[Illustration: THE MISSISSIPPI SCHEME: GARDENS OF THE HOTEL DESOISSONS, 1720. ]

MEMOIRS

OF

EXTRAORDINARY POPULAR DELUSIONS. 

VOLUME I. 

[Illustration: THE BUBBLERS' ARMS--PROSPERITY. ]

LONDON:

OFFICE OF THE NATIONAL ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY, 227 STRAND. 

1852. 

MEMOIRS

OF

EXTRAORDINARY POPULAR DELUSIONS

AND THE

MADNESS OF CROWDS. 

BY CHARLES MACKAY, LL. D. 

AUTHOR OF "EGERIA, " "THE SALAMANDRINE, " ETC. 

ILLUSTRATED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS. 

VOL. I. 

 N'en déplaise à ces fous nommés sages de Grèce, En ce monde il n'est point de parfaite sagesse; Tous les hommes sont fous, et malgré tous leurs soîns Ne diffèrent entre eux que du plus ou du moins. BOILEAU. 

LONDON:

OFFICE OF THE NATIONAL ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY, 227 STRAND. 

1852. 

LONDON:

PRINTED BY ROBSON, LEVEY, AND FRANKLYN, Great New Street, Fetter Lane. 

CONTENTS. 

THE MISSISSIPPI SCHEME. 

John Law; his birth and youthful career--Duel between Law andWilson--Law's escape from the King's Bench--The "Land-bank"--Law'sgambling propensities on the continent, and acquaintance with the Dukeof Orleans--State of France after the reign of Louis XIV. --Paper moneyinstituted in that country by Law--Enthusiasm of the French people atthe Mississippi Scheme--Marshal Villars--Stratagems employed andbribes given for an interview with Law--Great fluctuations inMississippi stock--Dreadful murders--Law created comptroller-generalof finances--Great sale for all kinds of ornaments in Paris--Financialdifficulties commence--Men sent out to work the mines on theMississippi, as a blind--Payment stopped at the bank--Law dismissedfrom the ministry--Payments made in specie--Law and the Regentsatirised in song--Dreadful crisis of the Mississippi Scheme--Law, almost a ruined man, flies to Venice--Death of the Regent--Law obligedto resort again to gambling--His death at Venice

THE SOUTH-SEA BUBBLE. 

Originated by Harley Earl of Oxford--Exchange Alley a scene of greatexcitement--Mr. Walpole--Sir John Blunt--Great demand forshares--Innumerable "Bubbles"--List of nefarious projects andbubbles--Great rise in South-sea stock--Sudden fall--General meetingof the directors--Fearful climax of the South-sea expedition--Itseffects on society--Uproar in the House of Commons--Escape ofKnight--Apprehension of Sir John Blunt--Recapture of Knight atTirlemont--His second escape--Persons connected with the schemeexamined--Their respective punishments--Concluding remarks

THE TULIPOMANIA. 

Conrad Gesner--Tulips brought from Vienna to England--Rage for thetulip among the Dutch--Its great value--Curious anecdote of a sailorand a tulip--Regular marts for tulips--Tulips employed as a means ofspeculation--Great depreciation in their value--End of the mania

THE ALCHYMISTS. 

Introductory remarks--Pretended antiquity of theart--Geber--Alfarabi--Avicenna--Albertus Magnus--ThomasAquinas--Artephius--Alain de Lisle--Arnold de Villeneuve--Pietrod'Apone--Raymond Lulli--Roger Bacon--Pope John XXII. --Jean deMeung--Nicholas Flamel--George Ripley--Basil Valentine--Bernard ofTrèves--Trithemius--The Maréchal de Rays--Jacques Coeur--Inferioradepts--Progress of the infatuation during the sixteenth andseventeenth centuries--Augurello--CorneliusAgrippa--Paracelsus--George Agricola--Denys Zachaire--Dr. Dee andEdward Kelly--The Cosmopolite--Sendivogius--The Rosicrucians--MichaelMayer--Robert Fludd--Jacob Böhmen--John Heydon--Joseph FrancisBorri--Alchymical writers of the seventeenth century--Delisle--AlbertAluys--Count de St. Germain--Cagliostro--Present state of the science

MODERN PROPHECIES. 

Terror of the approaching day of judgment--A comet the signal of thatday--The prophecy of Whiston--The people of Leeds greatly alarmed atthat event--The plague in Milan--Fortune-tellers andAstrologers--Prophecy concerning the overflow of the Thames--MotherShipton--Merlin--Heywood--Peter of Pontefract--RobertNixon--Almanac-makers

FORTUNE-TELLING. 

Presumption and weakness of man--Union of Fortune-tellers andAlchymists--Judicial astrology encouraged in England from the time ofElizabeth to William and Mary--Lilly the astrologer consulted by theHouse of Commons as to the cause of the Fire of London--Encouragementof the art in France and Germany--Nostradamus--Basil ofFlorence--Antiochus Tibertus--Kepler--Necromancy--Roger Bacon, Albertus Magnus, Arnold Villeneuve--Geomancy--Augury--Divination: listof various species of divination--Oneiro-criticism (interpretation ofdreams)--Omens

THE MAGNETISERS. 

The influence of imagination in curing diseases--Mineralmagnetisers--Paracelsus--Kircher the Jesuit--Sebastian Wirdig--WilliamMaxwell--The Convulsionaries of St. Medard--Father Hell--Mesmer, thefounder of Animal Magnetism--D'Eslon, his disciple--M. DePuysegur--Dr. Mainauduc's success in London--Holloway, Loutherbourg, Mary Pratt, &c. --Perkins's "Metallic Tractors"--Decline of the science

INFLUENCE OF POLITICS AND RELIGION ON THE HAIR AND BEARD. 

Early modes of wearing the hair and beard--Excommunication andoutlawry decreed against curls--Louis VII. 's submission thereto thecause of the long wars between England and France--Charles V. Of Spainand his courtiers--Peter the Great--His tax upon beards--Revival ofbeards and moustaches after the French Revolution of 1830--The King ofBavaria (1838) orders all civilians wearing moustaches to be arrestedand shaved--Examples from Bayeux tapestry

LIST OF ENGRAVINGS IN VOL. I. 

Frontispiece--Gardens of the Hotel de Soissons. (From a print in Mr. Hawkins' collection. )

Vignette--The Bubblers' Arms, Prosperity. (_Bubblers' Mirror, orEngland's Folly_. )

John Law. (From a rare print by Leon Schenk. 1720)

The Regent D'Orleans

Old Palais Royal from the Garden. (From a scarce print, _circa_1720)

Law's House; Rue de Quincampoix. (From Nodier's _Paris_)

Humpbacked Man hiring himself as a Table

Hôtel de Soissons. (From Nodier's _Paris_)

The Coach upset

Murder of a Broker by Count D'Horn

John Law as Atlas. (From _England under the House of Hanover_)

Caricature--Lucifer's new Row Barge

Procession of Miners for the Mississippi

The Chancellor D'Aguesseau

Caricature--Law in a Car drawn by Cocks

M. D'Argenson

Caricature--Neck or Nothing, or Downfall of the Mississippi Company

The South-Sea House. (From a print, _circa_ 1750)

Harley Earl of Oxford

Sir Robert Walpole

Cornhill. (Print, _circa_ 1720)

Stock-jobbing Card, or the Humours of Change Alley. 1720. (From the_Bubblers' Medley_)

Caricature--People climbing the Tree of Fortune. (From the_Bubblers' Medley_)

The Gateway to Merchant Tailors' Hall. (Gateway from old print)

Mr. Secretary Craggs

Caricature--Beggars on Horseback. (From the _Bubblers' Medley_)

Caricature--Britannia stript by a South-Sea Director

Caricature--The Brabant Screen. (Copied from a rare print of the time, in the collection of E. Hawkins, Esq. , F. S. A. )

Bonfires on Tower Hill

The Earl of Sunderland

Caricature--Emblematic Print of the South-Sea Scheme. (From a print byHogarth)

Caricature--Bubblers' Arms: Despair. (From _Bubblers' Mirror, orEngland's Glory_)

Conrad Gesner

The Alchymist. (From print after Teniers)

Albertus Magnus

Arnold de Villeneuve

Raymond Lulli

House of Jacques Coeur at Bourges. (From _Sommerard's Album_)

Cornelius Agrippa

Paracelsus

Dr. Dee

Dr. Dee's Show-stone and Magic Crystal. (Originals in the possessionof Lord Londesborough and British Museum)

Innspruck. (From Nodier's _Paris_)

House of Cagliostro (Rue de Clery, No. 278), Paris

Mother Shipton's House

Henry Andrews, the original "Francis Moore, physician"

Nostradamus. (From the frontispiece to a collection of his Prophecies, published at Amsterdam A. D. 1666)

Serlo clipping Henry I. 's hair

Peter the Great

Bayeux Tapestry

PREFACE. 

In reading the history of nations, we find that, like individuals, they have their whims and their peculiarities; their seasons ofexcitement and recklessness, when they care not what they do. We findthat whole communities suddenly fix their minds upon one object, andgo mad in its pursuit; that millions of people become simultaneouslyimpressed with one delusion, and run after it, till their attention iscaught by some new folly more captivating than the first. We see onenation suddenly seized, from its highest to its lowest members, with afierce desire of military glory; another as suddenly becoming crazedupon a religious scruple; and neither of them recovering its sensesuntil it has shed rivers of blood and sowed a harvest of groans andtears, to be reaped by its posterity. At an early age in the annals ofEurope its population lost their wits about the sepulchre of Jesus, and crowded in frenzied multitudes to the Holy Land; another age wentmad for fear of the devil, and offered up hundreds of thousands ofvictims to the delusion of witchcraft. At another time, the manybecame crazed on the subject of the philosopher's stone, and committedfollies till then unheard of in the pursuit. It was once thought avenial offence, in very many countries of Europe, to destroy an enemyby slow poison. Persons who would have revolted at the idea ofstabbing a man to the heart, drugged his pottage without scruple. Ladies of gentle birth and manners caught the contagion of murder, until poisoning, under their auspices, became quite fashionable. Somedelusions, though notorious to all the world, have subsisted for ages, flourishing as widely among civilised and polished nations as amongthe early barbarians with whom they originated, --that of duelling, forinstance, and the belief in omens and divination of the future, whichseem to defy the progress of knowledge to eradicate them entirely fromthe popular mind. Money, again, has often been a cause of the delusionof multitudes. Sober nations have all at once become desperategamblers, and risked almost their existence upon the turn of a pieceof paper. To trace the history of the most prominent of thesedelusions is the object of the present pages. Men, it has been wellsaid, think in herds; it will be seen that they go mad in herds, whilethey only recover their senses slowly, and one by one. 

Some of the subjects introduced may be familiar to the reader; but theAuthor hopes that sufficient novelty of detail will be found even inthese, to render them acceptable, while they could not be whollyomitted in justice to the subject of which it was proposed to treat. The memoirs of the South-Sea madness and the Mississippi delusion aremore complete and copious than are to be found elsewhere; and the samemay be said of the history of the Witch Mania, which contains anaccount of its terrific progress in Germany, a part of the subjectwhich has been left comparatively untouched by Sir Walter Scott in his_Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft_, the most important thathave yet appeared on this fearful but most interesting subject. 

Popular delusions began so early, spread so widely, and have lasted solong, that instead of two or three volumes, fifty would scarcelysuffice to detail their history. The present may be considered more ofa miscellany of delusions than a history--a chapter only in the greatand awful book of human folly which yet remains to be written, andwhich Porson once jestingly said he would write in five hundredvolumes! Interspersed are sketches of some lighter matters, --amusinginstances of the imitativeness and wrongheadedness of the people, rather than examples of folly and delusion. 

Religious matters have been purposely excluded as incompatible withthe limits prescribed to the present work; a mere list of them wouldalone be sufficient to occupy a volume. 

[Illustration: JOHN LAW. ]

MONEY MANIA. --THE MISSISSIPPI SCHEME. 

 Some in clandestine companies combine; Erect new stocks to trade beyond the line; With air and empty names beguile the town, And raise new credits first, then cry 'em down; Divide the empty nothing into shares, And set the crowd together by the ears. --_Defoe_. 

The personal character and career of one man are so intimately connectedwith the great scheme of the years 1719 and 1720, that a history of theMississippi madness can have no fitter introduction than a sketch of thelife of its great author John Law. Historians are divided in opinion as towhether they should designate him a knave or a madman. Both epithets wereunsparingly applied to him in his lifetime, and while the unhappyconsequences of his projects were still deeply felt. Posterity, however, has found reason to doubt the justice of the accusation, and to confessthat John Law was neither knave nor madman, but one more deceived thandeceiving, more sinned against than sinning. He was thoroughly acquaintedwith the philosophy and true principles of credit. He understood themonetary question better than any man of his day; and if his system fellwith a crash so tremendous, it was not so much his fault as that of thepeople amongst whom he had erected it. He did not calculate upon theavaricious frenzy of a whole nation; he did not see that confidence, likemistrust, could be increased almost _ad infinitum_, and that hope was asextravagant as fear. How was he to foretell that the French people, likethe man in the fable, would kill, in their frantic eagerness, the finegoose he had brought to lay them so many golden eggs? His fate was likethat which may be supposed to have overtaken the first adventurous boatmanwho rowed from Erie to Ontario. Broad and smooth was the river on which heembarked; rapid and pleasant was his progress; and who was to stay him inhis career? Alas for him! the cataract was nigh. He saw, when it was toolate, that the tide which wafted him so joyously along was a tide ofdestruction; and when he endeavoured to retrace his way, he found that thecurrent was too strong for his weak efforts to stem, and that he drewnearer every instant to the tremendous falls. Down he went over the sharprocks, and the waters with him. _He_ was dashed to pieces with his bark, but the waters, maddened and turned to foam by the rough descent, onlyboiled and bubbled for a time, and then flowed on again as smoothly asever. Just so it was with Law and the French people. He was the boatman, and they were the waters. 

John Law was born at Edinburgh in the year 1671. His father was theyounger son of an ancient family in Fife, and carried on the business of agoldsmith and banker. He amassed considerable wealth in his trade, sufficient to enable him to gratify the wish, so common among hiscountrymen, of adding a territorial designation to his name. He purchasedwith this view the estates of Lauriston and Randleston, on the Frith ofForth, on the borders of West and Mid Lothian, and was thenceforth knownas Law of Lauriston. The subject of our memoir, being the eldest son, wasreceived into his father's counting-house at the age of fourteen, and forthree years laboured hard to acquire an insight into the principles ofbanking as then carried on in Scotland. He had always manifested greatlove for the study of numbers, and his proficiency in the mathematics wasconsidered extraordinary in one of his tender years. At the age ofseventeen he was tall, strong, and well made; and his face, althoughdeeply scarred with the small-pox, was agreeable in its expression, andfull of intelligence. At this time he began to neglect his business, andbecoming vain of his person, indulged in considerable extravagance ofattire. He was a great favourite with the ladies, by whom he was calledBeau Law; while the other sex, despising his foppery, nicknamed himJessamy John. At the death of his father, which happened in 1688, hewithdrew entirely from the desk, which had become so irksome, and beingpossessed of the revenues of the paternal estate of Lauriston, heproceeded to London, to see the world. 

He was now very young, very vain, good-looking, tolerably rich, and quiteuncontrolled. It is no wonder that, on his arrival in the capital, heshould launch out into extravagance. He soon became a regular frequenterof the gaming-houses, and by pursuing a certain plan, based upon someabstruse calculation of chances, he contrived to gain considerable sums. All the gamblers envied him his luck, and many made it a point to watchhis play, and stake their money on the same chances. In affairs ofgallantry he was equally fortunate; ladies of the first rank smiledgraciously upon the handsome Scotchman--the young, the rich, the witty, and the obliging. But all these successes only paved the way for reverses. After he had been for nine years exposed to the dangerous attractions ofthe gay life he was leading, he became an irrecoverable gambler. As hislove of play increased in violence, it diminished in prudence. Greatlosses were only to be repaired by still greater ventures, and one unhappyday he lost more than he could repay without mortgaging his family estate. To that step he was driven at last. At the same time his gallantry broughthim into trouble. A love affair, or slight flirtation, with a lady of thename of Villiers, [1] exposed him to the resentment of a Mr. Wilson, bywhom he was challenged to fight a duel. Law accepted, and had the illfortune to shoot his antagonist dead upon the spot. He was arrested thesame day, and brought to trial for murder by the relatives of Mr. Wilson. He was afterwards found guilty, and sentenced to death. The sentence wascommuted to a fine, upon the ground that the offence only amounted tomanslaughter. An appeal being lodged by a brother of the deceased, Law wasdetained in the King's Bench, whence, by some means or other, which henever explained, he contrived to escape; and an action being institutedagainst the sheriffs, he was advertised in the Gazette, and a rewardoffered for his apprehension. He was described as "Captain John Law, aScotchman, aged twenty-six; a very tall, black, lean man; well shaped, above six feet high, with large pock-holes in his face; big nosed, andspeaking broad and loud. " As this was rather a caricature than adescription of him, it has been supposed that it was drawn up with a viewto favour his escape. He succeeded in reaching the Continent, where hetravelled for three years, and devoted much of his attention to themonetary and banking affairs of the countries through which he passed. Hestayed a few months in Amsterdam, and speculated to some extent in thefunds. His mornings were devoted to the study of finance and theprinciples of trade, and his evenings to the gaming-house. It is generallybelieved that he returned to Edinburgh in the year 1700. It is certainthat he published in that city his _Proposals and Reasons for constitutinga Council of Trade_. This pamphlet did not excite much attention. 

 [1] Miss Elizabeth Villiers, afterwards Countess of Orkney. 

In a short time afterwards he published a project for establishing what hecalled a Land-bank, [2] the notes issued by which were never to exceedthe value of the entire lands of the state, upon ordinary interest, orwere to be equal in value to the land, with the right to enter intopossession at a certain time. The project excited a good deal ofdiscussion in the Scottish Parliament, and a motion for the establishmentof such a bank was brought forward by a neutral party, called theSquadrone, whom Law had interested in his favour. The Parliamentultimately passed a resolution to the effect, that, to establish any kindof paper credit, so as to force it to pass, was an improper expedient forthe nation. 

 [2] The wits of the day called it a _sand-bank_, which would wreck the vessel of the state. 

Upon the failure of this project, and of his efforts to procure a pardonfor the murder of Mr. Wilson, Law withdrew to the Continent, and resumedhis old habits of gaming. For fourteen years he continued to roam about, in Flanders, Holland, Germany, Hungary, Italy, and France. He soon becameintimately acquainted with the extent of the trade and resources of each, and daily more confirmed in his opinion that no country could prosperwithout a paper currency. During the whole of this time he appears to havechiefly supported himself by successful play. At every gambling-house ofnote in the capitals of Europe he was known and appreciated as one betterskilled in the intricacies of chance than any other man of the day. It isstated in the _Biographie Universelle_ that he was expelled, first fromVenice, and afterwards from Genoa, by the magistrates, who thought him avisitor too dangerous for the youth of those cities. During his residencein Paris he rendered himself obnoxious to D'Argenson, thelieutenant-general of the police, by whom he was ordered to quit thecapital. This did not take place, however, before he had made theacquaintance, in the saloons, of the Duke de Vendôme, the Prince de Conti, and of the gay Duke of Orleans, the latter of whom was destined afterwardsto exercise so much influence over his fate. The Duke of Orleans waspleased with the vivacity and good sense of the Scottish adventurer, whilethe latter was no less pleased with the wit and amiability of a prince whopromised to become his patron. They were often thrown into each other'ssociety, and Law seized every opportunity to instil his financialdoctrines into the mind of one whose proximity to the throne pointed himout as destined, at no very distant date, to play an important part in thegovernment. 

[Illustration: THE REGENT OF FRANCE. ]

Shortly before the death of Louis XIV. , or, as some say, in 1708, Lawproposed a scheme of finance to Desmarets, the comptroller. Louis isreported to have inquired whether the projector were a Catholic, and onbeing answered in the negative, to have declined having any thing to dowith him. [3]

 [3] This anecdote, which is related in the correspondence of Madame de Bavière, Duchess of Orleans and mother of the Regent, is discredited by Lord John Russell in his _History of the principal States of Europe from the Peace of Utrecht_; for what reason he does not inform us. There is no doubt that Law proposed his scheme to Desmarets, and that Louis refused to hear of it. The reason given for the refusal is quite consistent with the character of that bigoted and tyrannical monarch. 

It was after this repulse that he visited Italy. His mind being stilloccupied with schemes of finance, he proposed to Victor Amadeus, duke ofSavoy, to establish his land-bank in that country. The duke replied thathis dominions were too circumscribed for the execution of so great aproject, and that he was by far too poor a potentate to be ruined. Headvised him, however, to try the king of France once more; for he wassure, if he knew any thing of the French character, that the people wouldbe delighted with a plan, not only so new, but so plausible. 

Louis XIV. Died in 1715, and the heir to the throne being an infant onlyseven years of age, the Duke of Orleans assumed the reins of government, as regent, during his minority. Law now found himself in a more favourableposition. The tide in his affairs had come, which, taken at the flood, wasto waft him on to fortune. The regent was his friend, already acquaintedwith his theory and pretensions, and inclined, moreover, to aid him in anyefforts to restore the wounded credit of France, bowed down to the earthby the extravagance of the long reign of Louis XIV. 

Hardly was that monarch laid in his grave ere the popular hatred, suppressed so long, burst forth against his memory. He who, during hislife, had been flattered with an excess of adulation, to which historyscarcely offers a parallel, was now cursed as a tyrant, a bigot, and aplunderer. His statues were pelted and disfigured; his effigies torn down, amid the execrations of the populace, and his name rendered synonymouswith selfishness and oppression. The glory of his arms was forgotten, andnothing was remembered but his reverses, his extravagance, and hiscruelty. 

The finances of the country were in a state of the utmost disorder. Aprofuse and corrupt monarch, whose profuseness and corruption wereimitated by almost every functionary, from the highest to the lowestgrade, had brought France to the verge of ruin. The national debt amountedto 3000 millions of livres, the revenue to 145 millions, and the expensesof government to 142 millions per annum; leaving only three millions topay the interest upon 3000 millions. The first care of the regent was todiscover a remedy for an evil of such magnitude, and a council was earlysummoned to take the matter into consideration. The Duke de St. Simon wasof opinion that nothing could save the country from revolution but aremedy at once bold and dangerous. He advised the regent to convoke thestates-general, and declare a national bankruptcy. The Duke de Noailles, aman of accommodating principles, an accomplished courtier, and totallyaverse from giving himself any trouble or annoyance that ingenuity couldescape from, opposed the project of St. Simon with all his influence. Herepresented the expedient as alike dishonest and ruinous. The regent wasof the same opinion, and this desperate remedy fell to the ground. 

The measures ultimately adopted, though they promised fair, onlyaggravated the evil. The first, and most dishonest measure was of noadvantage to the state. A recoinage was ordered, by which the currency wasdepreciated one-fifth; those who took a thousand pieces of gold or silverto the mint received back an amount of coin of the same nominal value, butonly four-fifths of the weight of metal. By this contrivance the treasurygained seventy-two millions of livres, and all the commercial operationsof the country were disordered. A trifling diminution of the taxessilenced the clamours of the people, and for the slight present advantagethe great prospective evil was forgotten. 

A Chamber of Justice was next instituted to inquire into the malversationsof the loan-contractors and the farmers of the revenues. Tax-collectorsare never very popular in any country, but those of France at this perioddeserved all the odium with which they were loaded. As soon as thesefarmers-general, with all their hosts of subordinate agents, called_maltôtiers_, [4] were called to account for their misdeeds, the mostextravagant joy took possession of the nation. The Chamber of Justice, instituted chiefly for this purpose, was endowed with very extensivepowers. It was composed of the presidents and councils of the parliament, the judges of the Courts of Aid and of Requests, and the officers of theChamber of Account, under the general presidence of the minister offinance. Informers were encouraged to give evidence against the offendersby the promise of one-fifth part of the fines and confiscations. A tenthof all concealed effects belonging to the guilty was promised to such asshould furnish the means of discovering them. 

 [4] From _maltôte_, an oppressive tax. 

The promulgation of the edict constituting this court caused a degree ofconsternation among those principally concerned, which can only beaccounted for on the supposition that their peculation had been enormous. But they met with no sympathy. The proceedings against them justifiedtheir terror. The Bastille was soon unable to contain the prisoners thatwere sent to it, and the gaols all over the country teemed with guilty orsuspected persons. An order was issued to all innkeepers and postmastersto refuse horses to such as endeavoured to seek safety in flight; and allpersons were forbidden, under heavy fines, to harbour them or favour theirevasion. Some were condemned to the pillory, others to the galleys, andthe least guilty to fine and imprisonment. One only, Samuel Bernard, arich banker and farmer-general of a province remote from the capital, wassentenced to death. So great had been the illegal profits of thisman, --looked upon as the tyrant and oppressor of his district, --that heoffered six millions of livres, or 250, 000l. Sterling, to be allowed toescape. 

His bribe was refused, and he suffered the penalty of death. Others, perhaps more guilty, were more fortunate. Confiscation, owing to theconcealment of their treasures by the delinquents, often produced lessmoney than a fine. The severity of the government relaxed, and fines, underthe denomination of taxes, were indiscriminately levied upon all offenders;but so corrupt was every department of the administration, that the countrybenefited but little by the sums which thus flowed into the treasury. Courtiers and courtiers' wives and mistresses came in for the chief shareof the spoils. One contractor had been taxed, in proportion to his wealthand guilt, at the sum of twelve millions of livres. The Count ----, a manof some weight in the government, called upon him, and offered to procure aremission of the fine if he would give him a hundred thousand crowns. "Vousêtes trop tard, mon ami, " replied the financier; "I have already made abargain with your wife for fifty thousand. "[5]

 [5] This anecdote is related by M. De la Hode, in his _Life of Philippe of Orleans_. It would have looked more authentic if he had given the names of the dishonest contractor and the still more dishonest minister. But M. De la Hode's book is liable to the same objection as most of the French memoirs of that and of subsequent periods. It is sufficient with most of them that an anecdote be _ben trovato_; the _vero_ is but matter of secondary consideration. 

About a hundred and eighty millions of livres were levied in this manner, of which eighty were applied in payment of the debts contracted by thegovernment. The remainder found its way into the pockets of the courtiers. Madame de Maintenon, writing on this subject, says, --"We hear every day ofsome new grant of the regent. The people murmur very much at this mode ofemploying the money taken from the peculators. " The people, who, after thefirst burst of their resentment is over, generally express a sympathy forthe weak, were indignant that so much severity should be used to so littlepurpose. They did not see the justice of robbing one set of rogues tofatten another. In a few months all the more guilty had been brought topunishment, and the Chamber of Justice looked for victims in humbler walksof life. Charges of fraud and extortion were brought against tradesmen ofgood character in consequence of the great inducements held out to commoninformers. They were compelled to lay open their affairs before thistribunal in order to establish their innocence. The voice of complaintresounded from every side; and at the expiration of a year the governmentfound it advisable to discontinue further proceedings. The Chamber ofJustice was suppressed, and a general amnesty granted to all against whomno charges had yet been preferred. 

In the midst of this financial confusion Law appeared upon the scene. Noman felt more deeply than the regent the deplorable state of the country, but no man could be more averse from putting his shoulders manfully to thewheel. He disliked business; he signed official documents without properexamination, and trusted to others what he should have undertaken himself. The cares inseparable from his high office were burdensome to him. He sawthat something was necessary to be done; but he lacked the energy to doit, and had not virtue enough to sacrifice his ease and his pleasures inthe attempt. No wonder that, with this character, he listened favourablyto the mighty projects, so easy of execution, of the clever adventurerwhom he had formerly known, and whose talents he appreciated. 

When Law presented himself at court he was most cordially received. Heoffered two memorials to the regent, in which he set forth the evils thathad befallen France, owing to an insufficient currency, at different timesdepreciated. He asserted that a metallic currency, unaided by a papermoney, was wholly inadequate to the wants of a commercial country, andparticularly cited the examples of Great Britain and Holland to shew theadvantages of paper. He used many sound arguments on the subject ofcredit, and proposed as a means of restoring that of Prance, then at solow an ebb among the nations, that he should be allowed to set up a bank, which should have the management of the royal revenues, and issue notesboth on that and on landed security. He further proposed that this bankshould be administered in the king's name, but subject to the control ofcommissioners to be named by the States-General. 

While these memorials were under consideration, Law translated into Frenchhis essay on money and trade, and used every means to extend through thenation his renown as a financier. He soon became talked of. The confidantsof the regent spread abroad his praise, and every one expected greatthings of Monsieur Lass. [6]

 [6] The French pronounced his name in this manner to avoid the ungallic sound, _aw_. After the failure of his scheme, the wags said the nation was _lasse de lui_, and proposed that he should in future be known by the name of Monsieur He_las_!

On the 5th of May, 1716, a royal edict was published, by which Law wasauthorised, in conjunction with his brother, to establish a bank under thename of Law and Company, the notes of which should be received in paymentof the taxes. The capital was fixed at six millions of livres, in twelvethousand shares of five hundred livres each, purchasable one fourth inspecie, and the remainder in _billets d'état_. It was not thoughtexpedient to grant him the whole of the privileges prayed for in hismemorials until experience should have shewn their safety and advantage. 

Law was now on the high road to fortune. The study of thirty years wasbrought to guide him in the management of his bank. He made all his notespayable at sight, and in the coin current at the time they were issued. This last was a master-stroke of policy, and immediately rendered hisnotes more valuable than the precious metals. The latter were constantlyliable to depreciation by the unwise tampering of the government. Athousand livres of silver might be worth their nominal value one day, andbe reduced one-sixth the next, but a note of Law's bank retained itsoriginal value. He publicly declared at the same time, that a bankerdeserved death if he made issues without having sufficient security toanswer all demands. The consequence was, that his notes advanced rapidlyin public estimation, and were received at one per cent more than specie. It was not long before the trade of the country felt the benefit. Languishing commerce began to lift up her head; the taxes were paid withgreater regularity and less murmuring; and a degree of confidence wasestablished that could not fail, if it continued, to become still moreadvantageous. In the course of a year, Law's notes rose to fifteen percent premium, while the _billets d'état_, or notes issued by thegovernment as security for the debts contracted by the extravagant LouisXIV. , were at a discount of no less than seventy-eight and a half percent. The comparison was too great in favour of Law not to attract theattention of the whole kingdom, and his credit extended itself day by day. Branches of his bank were almost simultaneously established at Lyons, Rochelle, Tours, Amiens, and Orleans. 

The regent appears to have been utterly astonished at his success, andgradually to have conceived the idea that paper, which could so aid ametallic currency, could entirely supersede it. Upon this fundamentalerror he afterwards acted. In the mean time, Law commenced the famousproject which has handed his name down to posterity. He proposed to theregent (who could refuse him nothing) to establish a company that shouldhave the exclusive privilege of trading to the great river Mississippi andthe province of Louisiana, on its western bank. The country was supposedto abound in the precious metals; and the company, supported by theprofits of their exclusive commerce, were to be the sole farmers of thetaxes and sole coiners of money. Letters patent were issued, incorporatingthe company, in August 1717. The capital was divided into two hundredthousand shares of five hundred livres each, the whole of which might bepaid in _billets d'état_, at their nominal value, although worth no morethan a hundred and sixty livres in the market. 

It was now that the frenzy of speculating began to seize upon the nation. Law's bank had effected so much good, that any promises for the futurewhich he thought proper to make were readily believed. The regent everyday conferred new privileges upon the fortunate projector. The bankobtained the monopoly of the sale of tobacco, the sole right of refinageof gold and silver, and was finally erected into the Royal Bank of France. Amid the intoxication of success, both Law and the regent forgot the maximso loudly proclaimed by the former, that a banker deserved death who madeissues of paper without the necessary funds to provide for them. As soonas the bank, from a private, became a public institution, the regentcaused a fabrication of notes to the amount of one thousand millions oflivres. This was the first departure from sound principles, and one forwhich Law is not justly blameable. While the affairs of the bank wereunder his control, the issues had never exceeded sixty millions. WhetherLaw opposed the inordinate increase is not known; but as it took place assoon as the bank was made a royal establishment, it is but fair to lay theblame of the change of system upon the regent. 

Law found that he lived under a despotic government; but he was not yetaware of the pernicious influence which such a government could exerciseupon so delicate a framework as that of credit. He discovered itafterwards to his cost, but in the meantime suffered himself to beimpelled by the regent into courses which his own reason must havedisapproved. With a weakness most culpable, he lent his aid in inundatingthe country with paper money, which, based upon no solid foundation, wassure to fall, sooner or later. The extraordinary present fortune dazzledhis eyes, and prevented him from seeing the evil day that would burst overhis head, when once, from any cause or other, the alarm was sounded. Theparliament were from the first jealous of his influence as a foreigner, and had, besides, their misgivings as to the safety of his projects. Ashis influence extended, their animosity increased. D'Aguesseau, thechancellor, was unceremoniously dismissed by the regent for his oppositionto the vast increase of paper money, and the constant depreciation of thegold and silver coin of the realm. This only served to augment the enmityof the parliament, and when D'Argenson, a man devoted to the interests ofthe regent, was appointed to the vacant chancellorship, and made at thesame time minister of finance, they became more violent than ever. Thefirst measure of the new minister caused a further depreciation of thecoin. In order to extinguish the _billets d'état_, it was ordered thatpersons bringing to the mint four thousand livres in specie and onethousand livres in _billets d'état_, should receive back coin to theamount of five thousand livres. D'Argenson plumed himself mightily uponthus creating five thousand new and smaller livres out of the fourthousand old and larger ones, being too ignorant of the true principles oftrade and credit to be aware of the immense injury he was inflicting uponboth. 

The parliament saw at once the impolicy and danger of such a system, andmade repeated remonstrances to the regent. The latter refused to entertaintheir petitions, when the parliament, by a bold and very unusual stretchof authority, commanded that no money should be received in payment butthat of the old standard. The regent summoned a _lit de justice_, andannulled the decree. The parliament resisted, and issued another. Againthe regent exercised his privilege, and annulled it, till the parliament, stung to fiercer opposition, passed another decree, dated August 12th, 1718, by which they forbade the bank of Law to have any concern, eitherdirect or indirect, in the administration of the revenue; and prohibitedall foreigners, under heavy penalties, from interfering, either in theirown names, or in that of others, in the management of the finances of thestate. The parliament considered Law to be the author of all the evil, andsome of the councillors, in the virulence of their enmity, proposed thathe should be brought to trial, and, if found guilty, be hung at the gatesof the Palais de Justice. 

[Illustration: PALAIS ROYAL FROM THE GARDEN. ]

Law, in great alarm, fled to the Palais Royal, and threw himself on theprotection of the regent, praying that measures might be taken to reducethe parliament to obedience. The regent had nothing so much at heart, bothon that account and because of the disputes that had arisen relative tothe legitimation of the Duke of Maine and the Count of Thoulouse, the sonsof the late king. The parliament was ultimately overawed by the arrest oftheir president and two of the councillors, who were sent to distantprisons. 

Thus the first cloud upon Law's prospects blew over: freed fromapprehension of personal danger, he devoted his attention to his famousMississippi project, the shares of which were rapidly rising, in spite ofthe parliament. At the commencement of the year 1719, an edict waspublished, granting to the Mississippi Company the exclusive privilege oftrading to the East Indies, China, and the South Seas, and to all thepossessions of the French East India Company, established by Colbert. TheCompany, in consequence of this great increase of their business, assumed, as more appropriate, the title of Company of the Indies, and created fiftythousand new shares. The prospects now held out by Law were mostmagnificent. He promised a yearly dividend of two hundred livres upon eachshare of five hundred, which, as the shares were paid for in _billetsd'état_ at their nominal value, but worth only 100 livres, was at the rateof about 120 per cent profit. 

[Illustration: LAW'S HOUSE; RUE DE QUINCAMPOIX. ]

The public enthusiasm, which had been so long rising, could not resist avision so splendid. At least three hundred thousand applications were madefor the fifty thousand new shares, and Law's house in the Rue deQuincampoix was beset from morning to night by the eager applicants. As itwas impossible to satisfy them all, it was several weeks before a list ofthe fortunate new stockholders could be made out, during which time thepublic impatience rose to a pitch of frenzy. Dukes, marquises, counts, with their duchesses, marchionesses, and countesses, waited in the streetsfor hours every day before Mr. Law's door to know the result. At last, toavoid the jostling of the plebeian crowd, which, to the number ofthousands, filled the whole thoroughfare, they took apartments in theadjoining houses, that they might be continually near the temple whencethe new Plutus was diffusing wealth. Every day the value of the old sharesincreased, and the fresh applications, induced by the golden dreams of thewhole nation, became so numerous that it was deemed advisable to create noless than three hundred thousand new shares, at five thousand livres each, in order that the regent might take advantage of the popular enthusiasm topay off the national debt. For this purpose, the sum of fifteen hundredmillions of livres was necessary. Such was the eagerness of the nation, that thrice the sum would have been subscribed if the government hadauthorised it. 

Law was now at the zenith of his prosperity, and the people were rapidlyapproaching the zenith of their infatuation. The highest and the lowestclasses were alike filled with a vision of boundless wealth. There was nota person of note among the aristocracy, with the exception of the Duke ofSt. Simon and Marshal Villars, who was not engaged in buying or sellingstock. People of every age and sex and condition in life speculated in therise and fall of the Mississippi bonds. The Rue de Quincampoix was thegrand resort of the jobbers, and it being a narrow, inconvenient street, accidents continually occurred in it, from the tremendous pressure of thecrowd. Houses in it, worth, in ordinary times, a thousand livres of yearlyrent, yielded as much as twelve or sixteen thousand. A cobbler, who had astall in it, gained about two hundred livres a day by letting it out, andfurnishing writing materials to brokers and their clients. The story goes, that a hunchbacked man who stood in the street gained considerable sums bylending his hump as a writing-desk to the eager speculators! The greatconcourse of persons who assembled to do business brought a still greaterconcourse of spectators. These again drew all the thieves and immoralcharacters of Paris to the spot, and constant riots and disturbances tookplace. At nightfall, it was often found necessary to send a troop ofsoldiers to clear the street. 

[Illustration: THE HUNCHBACK. ]

Law, finding the inconvenience of his residence, removed to the PlaceVendôme, whither the crowd of _agioteurs_ followed him. That spacioussquare soon became as thronged as the Rue de Quincampoix: from morning tonight it presented the appearance of a fair. Booths and tents were erectedfor the transaction of business and the sale of refreshments, and gamblerswith their roulette tables stationed themselves in the very middle of theplace, and reaped a golden, or rather a paper, harvest from the throng. The boulevards and public gardens were forsaken; parties of pleasure tooktheir walks in preference in the Place Vendôme, which became thefashionable lounge of the idle, as well as the general rendezvous of thebusy. The noise was so great all day, that the chancellor, whose court wassituated in the square, complained to the regent and the municipality, that he could not hear the advocates. Law, when applied to, expressed hiswillingness to aid in the removal of the nuisance, and for this purposeentered into a treaty with the Prince de Carignan for the Hôtel deSoissons, which had a garden of several acres in the rear. A bargain wasconcluded, by which Law became the purchaser of the hotel at an enormousprice, the prince reserving to himself the magnificent gardens as a newsource of profit. They contained some fine statues and several fountains, and were altogether laid out with much taste. As soon as Law was installedin his new abode, an edict was published, forbidding all persons to buy orsell stock any where but in the gardens of the Hôtel de Soissons. In themidst, among the trees, about five hundred small tents and pavilions wereerected, for the convenience of the stock-jobbers. Their various colours, the gay ribands and banners which floated from them, the busy crowds whichpassed continually in and out--the incessant hum of voices, the noise, themusic, and the strange mixture of business and pleasure on thecountenances of the throng, all combined to give the place an air ofenchantment that quite enraptured the Parisians. The Prince de Carignanmade enormous profits while the delusion lasted. Each tent was let at therate of five hundred livres a month; and, as there were at least fivehundred of them, his monthly revenue from this source alone must haveamounted to 250, 000 livres, or upwards of 10, 000l. Sterling. 

[Illustration: HOTEL DE SOISSONS. ]

The honest old soldier, Marshal Villars, was so vexed to see the follywhich had smitten his countrymen, that he never could speak with temper onthe subject. Passing one day through the Place Vendôme in his carriage, the choleric gentleman was so annoyed at the infatuation of the people, that he abruptly ordered his coachman to stop, and, putting his head outof the carriage window, harangued them for full half an hour on their"disgusting avarice. " This was not a very wise proceeding on his part. Hisses and shouts of laughter resounded from every side, and jokes withoutnumber were aimed at him. There being at last strong symptoms thatsomething more tangible was flying through the air in the direction of hishead, the marshal was glad to drive on. He never again repeated theexperiment. 

Two sober, quiet, and philosophic men of letters, M. De la Motte and theAbbé Terrason, congratulated each other, that they, at least, were freefrom this strange infatuation. A few days afterwards, as the worthy abbéwas coming out of the Hôtel de Soissons, whither he had gone to buy sharesin the Mississippi, whom should he see but his friend La Motte enteringfor the same purpose. "Ha!" said the abbé smiling, "is that _you_?" "Yes, "said La Motte, pushing past him as fast as he was able; "and can that be_you_?" The next time the two scholars met, they talked of philosophy, ofscience, and of religion, but neither had courage for a long time tobreathe one syllable about the Mississippi. At last, when it wasmentioned, they agreed that a man ought never to swear against his doingany one thing, and that there was no sort of extravagance of which even awise man was not capable. 

During this time, Law, the new Plutus, had become all at once the mostimportant personage of the state. The ante-chambers of the regent wereforsaken by the courtiers, Peers, judges, and bishops thronged to theHôtel de Soissons; officers of the army and navy, ladies of title andfashion, and every one to whom hereditary rank or public employ gave aclaim to precedence, were to be found waiting in his ante-chambers to begfor a portion of his India stock. Law was so pestered that he was unableto see one-tenth part of the applicants, and every manoeuvre thatingenuity could suggest was employed to gain access to him. Peers, whosedignity would have been outraged if the regent had made them wait half anhour for an interview, were content to wait six hours for the chance ofseeing Monsieur Law. Enormous fees were paid to his servants, if theywould merely announce their names. Ladies of rank employed theblandishments of their smiles for the same object; but many of them cameday after day for a fortnight before they could obtain an audience. WhenLaw accepted an invitation, he was sometimes so surrounded by ladies, allasking to have their names put down in his lists as shareholders in thenew stock, that, in spite of his well-known and habitual gallantry, he wasobliged to tear himself away _par force_. The most ludicrous stratagemswere employed to have an opportunity of speaking to him. One lady, who hadstriven in vain during several days, gave up in despair all attempts tosee him at his own house, but ordered her coachman to keep a strict watchwhenever she was out in her carriage, and if he saw Mr. Law coming, todrive against a post and upset her. The coachman promised obedience, andfor three days the lady was driven incessantly through the town, prayinginwardly for the opportunity to be overturned. At last she espied Mr. Law, and, pulling the string, called out to the coachman, "Upset us now! forGod's sake, upset us now!" The coachman drove against a post, the ladyscreamed, the coach was overturned, and Law, who had seen the _accident_, hastened to the spot to render assistance. The cunning dame was led intothe Hôtel de Soissons, where she soon thought it advisable to recover fromher fright, and, after apologising to Mr. Law, confessed her stratagem. Law smiled, and entered the lady in his books as the purchaser of aquantity of India stock. Another story is told of a Madame de Boucha, who, knowing that Mr. Law was at dinner at a certain house, proceeded thitherin her carriage, and gave the alarm of fire. The company started fromtable, and Law among the rest; but, seeing one lady making all haste intothe house towards him, while every body else was scampering away, hesuspected the trick, and ran off in another direction. 

[Illustration]

Many other anecdotes are related, which even though they may be a littleexaggerated, are nevertheless worth preserving, as shewing the spirit ofthat singular period. [7] The regent was one day mentioning, in thepresence of D'Argenson, the Abbé Dubois, and some other persons, that hewas desirous of deputing some lady, of the rank at least of a duchess, toattend upon his daughter at Modena; "but, " added he, "I do not exactlyknow where to find one. " "No!" replied one, in affected surprise; "I cantell you where to find every duchess in France: you have only to go to Mr. Law's; you will see them every one in his ante-chamber. "

 [7] The curious reader may find an anecdote of the eagerness of the French ladies to retain Law in their company, which will make him blush or smile according as he happens to be very modest or the reverse. It is related in the _Letters of Madame Charlotte Elizabeth de Bavière, Duchess of Orleans_, vol. Ii. P. 274. 

M. De Chirac, a celebrated physician, had bought stock at an unluckyperiod, and was very anxious to sell out. Stock, however, continued tofall for two or three days, much to his alarm. His mind was filled withthe subject, when he was suddenly called upon to attend a lady whoimagined herself unwell. He arrived, was shewn up stairs, and felt thelady's pulse. "It falls! it falls! good God! it falls continually!" saidhe musingly, while the lady looked up in his face all anxiety for hisopinion. "Oh, M. De Chirac, " said she, starting to her feet and ringingthe bell for assistance; "I am dying! I am dying! it falls! it falls! itfalls!" "What falls?" inquired the doctor in amazement. "My pulse! mypulse!" said the lady; "I must be dying. " "Calm your apprehensions, mydear madam, " said M. De Chirac; "I was speaking of the stocks. The truthis, I have been a great loser, and my mind is so disturbed, I hardly knowwhat I have been saying. "

The price of shares sometimes rose ten or twenty per cent in the course ofa few hours, and many persons in the humbler walks of life, who had risenpoor in the morning, went to bed in affluence. An extensive holder ofstock, being taken ill, sent his servant to sell two hundred and fiftyshares, at eight thousand livres each, the price at which they were thenquoted. The servant went, and, on his arrival in the Jardin de Soissons, found that in the interval the price had risen to ten thousand livres. Thedifference of two thousand livres on the two hundred and fifty shares, amounting to 500, 000 livres, or 20, 000l. Sterling, he very coollytransferred to his own use, and giving the remainder to his master, setout the same evening for another country. Law's coachman in a very shorttime made money enough to set up a carriage of his own, and requestedpermission to leave his service. Law, who esteemed the man, begged of himas a favour, that he would endeavour, before he went, to find a substituteas good as himself. The coachman consented, and in the evening brought twoof his former comrades, telling Mr. Law to choose between them, and hewould take the other. Cookmaids and footmen were now and then as lucky, and, in the full-blown pride of their easily-acquired wealth, made themost ridiculous mistakes. Preserving the language and manners of theirold, with the finery of their new station, they afforded continualsubjects for the pity of the sensible, the contempt of the sober, and thelaughter of every body. But the folly and meanness of the higher ranks ofsociety were still more disgusting. One instance alone, related by theDuke de St. Simon, will shew the unworthy avarice which infected the wholeof society. A man of the name of André, without character or education, had, by a series of well-timed speculations in Mississippi bonds, gainedenormous wealth in an incredibly short space of time. As St. Simonexpresses it, "he had amassed mountains of gold. " As he became rich, hegrew ashamed of the lowness of his birth, and anxious above all things tobe allied to nobility. He had a daughter, an infant only three years ofage, and he opened a negotiation with the aristocratic and needy family ofD'Oyse, that this child should, upon certain conditions, marry a member ofthat house. The Marquis D'Oyse, to his shame, consented, and promised tomarry her himself on her attaining the age of twelve, if the father wouldpay him down the sum of a hundred thousand crowns, and twenty thousandlivres every year until the celebration of the marriage. The marquis washimself in his thirty-third year. This scandalous bargain was duly signedand sealed, the stockjobber furthermore agreeing to settle upon hisdaughter, on the marriage-day, a fortune of several millions. The Duke ofBrancas, the head of the family, was present throughout the negotiation, and shared in all the profits. St. Simon, who treats the matter with thelevity becoming what he thought so good a joke, adds, "that people did notspare their animadversions on this beautiful marriage, " and furtherinforms us, "that the project fell to the ground some months afterwards bythe overthrow of Law, and the ruin of the ambitious Monsieur André. " Itwould appear, however, that the noble family never had the honesty toreturn the hundred thousand crowns. 

Amid events like these, which, humiliating though they be, partake largelyof the ludicrous, others occurred of a more serious nature. Robberies inthe streets were of daily occurrence, in consequence of the immense sums, in paper, which people carried about with them. Assassinations were alsofrequent. One case in particular fixed the attention of the whole ofFrance, not only on account of the enormity of the offence, but of therank and high connexions of the criminal. 

[Illustration]

The Count d'Horn, a younger brother of the Prince d'Horn, and related tothe noble families of D'Aremberg, De Ligne, and De Montmorency, was ayoung man of dissipated character, extravagant to a degree, andunprincipled as he was extravagant. In connexion with two other young menas reckless as himself, named Mille, a Piedmontese captain, and oneDestampes, or Lestang, a Fleming, he formed a design to rob a very richbroker, who was known, unfortunately for himself, to carry great sumsabout his person. The count pretended a desire to purchase of him a numberof shares in the Company of the Indies, and for that purpose appointed tomeet him in a _cabaret_, or low public-house, in the neighbourhood of thePlace Vendôme. The unsuspecting broker was punctual to his appointment; sowere the Count d'Horn and his two associates, whom he introduced as hisparticular friends. After a few moments' conversation, the Count d'Hornsuddenly sprang upon his victim, and stabbed him three times in the breastwith a poniard. The man fell heavily to the ground, and, while the countwas employed in rifling his portfolio of bonds in the Mississippi andIndian schemes to the amount of one hundred thousand crowns, Mille, thePiedmontese, stabbed the unfortunate broker again and again, to make sureof his death, But the broker did not fall without a struggle, and hiscries brought the people of the _cabaret_ to his assistance. Lestang, theother assassin, who had been set to keep watch at a staircase, sprang froma window and escaped; but Mille and the Count d'Horn were seized in thevery act. 

This crime, committed in open day, and in so public a place as a_cabaret_, filled Paris with consternation. The trial of the assassinscommenced on the following day; and the evidence being so clear, they wereboth found guilty, and condemned, to be broken alive on the wheel. Thenoble relatives of the Count d'Horn absolutely blocked tip theante-chambers of the regent, praying for mercy on the misguided youth, andalleging that he was insane. The regent avoided them as long as possible, being determined that, in a case so atrocious, justice should take itscourse. But the importunity of these influential suitors was not to beovercome so silently; and they at last forced themselves into the presenceof the regent, and prayed him to save their house the shame of a publicexecution. They hinted that the Princes d'Horn were allied to theillustrious family of Orleans; and added, that the regent himself would bedisgraced if a kinsman of his should die by the hands of a commonexecutioner. The regent, to his credit, was proof against all theirsolicitations, and replied to their last argument in the words ofCorneille:

 "Le crime fait la honte, et non pas l'échafaud:"

adding, that whatever shame there might be in the punishment he would verywillingly share with the other relatives. Day after day they renewed theirentreaties, but always with the same result. At last they thought, that ifthey could interest the Duke de St. Simon in their favour--a man, for whomthe regent felt sincere esteem--they might succeed in their object. Theduke, a thorough aristocrat, was as shocked as they were that a nobleassassin should die by the same death as a plebeian felon, and representedto the regent the impolicy of making enemies of so numerous, wealthy, andpowerful a family. He urged, too, that in Germany, where the family ofD'Aremberg had large possessions, it was the law, that no relative of aperson broken on the wheel could succeed to any public office or employuntil a whole generation had passed away. For this reason, he thought thepunishment of the guilty count might be transmuted into beheading, whichwas considered all over Europe as much less infamous. The regent was movedby this argument, and was about to consent, when Law, who felt peculiarlyinterested in the fate of the murdered man, confirmed him in his formerresolution to let the law take its course. 

The relatives of D'Horn were now reduced to the last extremity. The Princede Robec Montmorency, despairing of other methods, found means topenetrate into the dungeon of the criminal, and offering him a cup ofpoison, implored him to save them from disgrace. The Count d'Horn turnedaway his head, and refused to take it. Montmorency pressed him once more;and losing all patience at his continued refusal, turned on his heel, andexclaiming, "Die, then, as thou wilt, mean-spirited wretch! thou art fitonly to perish by the hands of the hangman!" left him to his fate. 

D'Horn himself petitioned the regent that he might be beheaded; but Law, who exercised more influence over his mind than any other person, with theexception of the notorious Abbé Dubois, his tutor, insisted that he couldnot in justice succumb to the self-interested views of the D'Horns. Theregent had from the first been of the same opinion; and within six daysafter the commission of their crime, D'Horn and Mille were broken on thewheel in the Place de Grève. The other assassin, Lestang, was neverapprehended. 

This prompt and severe justice was highly pleasing to the populace ofParis. Even M. De Quincampoix, as they called Law, came in for a share oftheir approbation for having induced the regent to shew no favour to apatrician. But the number of robberies and assassinations did notdiminish; no sympathy was shewn for rich jobbers when they were plundered. The general laxity of public morals, conspicuous enough before, wasrendered still more so by its rapid pervasion of the middle classes, whohad hitherto remained comparatively pure between the open vices of theclass above and the hidden crimes of the class below them. The perniciouslove of gambling diffused itself through society, and bore all public andnearly all private virtue before it. 

For a time, while confidence lasted, an impetus was given to trade whichcould not fail to be beneficial. In Paris especially the good results werefelt. Strangers flocked into the capital from every part, bent not onlyupon making money, but on spending it. The Duchess of Orleans, mother ofthe regent, computes the increase of the population during this time, fromthe great influx of strangers from all parts of the world, at 305, 000souls. The housekeepers were obliged to make up beds in garrets, kitchens, and even stables, for the accommodation of lodgers; and the town was sofull of carriages and vehicles of every description, that they wereobliged, in the principal streets, to drive at a foot-pace for fear ofaccidents. The looms of the country worked with unusual activity to supplyrich laces, silks, broad-cloth, and velvets, which being paid for inabundant paper, increased in price four-fold. Provisions shared thegeneral advance. Bread, meat, and vegetables were sold at prices greaterthan had ever before been known; while the wages of labour rose in exactlythe same proportion. The artisan who formerly gained fifteen sous per diemnow gained sixty. New houses were built in every direction; an illusoryprosperity shone over the land, and so dazzled the eyes of the wholenation, that none could see the dark cloud on the horizon announcing thestorm that was too rapidly approaching. 

Law himself, the magician whose wand had wrought so surprising a change, shared, of course, in the general prosperity. His wife and daughter werecourted by the highest nobility, and their alliance sought by the heirs ofducal and princely houses. He bought two splendid estates in differentparts of France, and entered into a negotiation with the family of theDuke de Sully for the purchase of the marquisate of Rosny. His religionbeing an obstacle to his advancement, the regent promised, if he wouldpublicly conform to the Catholic faith, to make him comptroller-general ofthe finances. Law, who had no more real religion than any other professedgambler, readily agreed, and was confirmed by the Abbé de Tencin in thecathedral of Melun, in presence of a great crowd of spectators[8]. Onthe following day he was elected honorary churchwarden of the parish ofSt. Roch, upon which occasion he made it a present of the sum of fivehundred thousand livres. His charities, always magnificent, were notalways so ostentatious. He gave away great sums privately, and no tale ofreal distress ever reached his ears in vain. 

 [8] The following squib was circulated on the occasion:

 "Foin de ton zèle séraphique, Malheureux Abbé de Tencin, Depuis que Law est Catholique, Tout le royaume est Capucin!"

 Thus somewhat weakly and paraphrastically rendered by Justandsond, in his translation of the _Memoirs of Louis XV. _:

 "Tencin, a curse on thy seraphic zeal, Which by persuasion hath contrived the means To make the Scotchman at our altars kneel, Since which we all are poor as Capucines!"

At this time he was by far the most influential person of the state. TheDuke of Orleans had so much confidence in his sagacity and the success ofhis plans, that he always consulted him upon every matter of moment. Hewas by no means unduly elevated by his prosperity, but remained the samesimple, affable, sensible man that he had shewn himself in adversity. Hisgallantry, which was always delightful to the fair objects of it, was of anature so kind, so gentlemanly, and so respectful, that not even a lovercould have taken offence at it. If upon any occasion he shewed anysymptoms of haughtiness, it was to the cringing nobles who lavished theiradulation upon him till it became fulsome. He often took pleasure inseeing how long he could make them dance attendance upon him for a singlefavour. To such of his own countrymen as by chance visited Paris, andsought an interview with him, he was, on the contrary, all politeness andattention. When Archibald Campbell, Earl of Islay, and afterwards Duke ofArgyle, called upon him in the Place Vendôme, he had to pass through anante-chamber crowded with persons of the first distinction, all anxious tosee the great financier, and have their names put down as first on thelist of some new subscription. Law himself was quietly sitting in hislibrary, writing a letter to the gardener at his paternal estate ofLauriston about the planting of some cabbages! The earl stayed for aconsiderable time, played a game of piquet with his countryman, and lefthim, charmed with his ease, good sense, and good breeding. 

[Illustration: LAW AS ATLAS. [9]]

 [9] From a print in a Dutch collection of satirical prints relating to the Mississippi Mania, entitled "Het groote Tafereel der Dwaasheid;" or, The great picture of Folly. The print of Atlas is styled, "L'Atlas actieux de Papier. " Law is calling in Hercules to aid him in supporting the globe. Quoted in Wright's _England under the House of Hanover_. 

Among the nobles who, by means of the public credulity at this time, gained sums sufficient to repair their ruined fortunes, may be mentionedthe names of the Dukes de Bourbon, de Guiche, de la Force, [10] deChaulnes, and d'Antin; the Marechal d'Estrées; the Princes de Rohan, dePoix, and de Léon. The Duke de Bourbon, son of Louis XIV. By Madame deMontespan, was peculiarly fortunate in his speculations in Mississippipaper. He rebuilt the royal residence of Chantilly in a style of unwontedmagnificence; and being passionately fond of horses, he erected a range ofstables, which were long renowned throughout Europe, and imported ahundred and fifty of the finest racers from England to improve the breedin France. He bought a large extent of country in Picardy, and becamepossessed of nearly all the valuable lands lying between the Oise and theSomme. 

 [10] The Duke de la Force gained considerable sums, not only by jobbing in the stocks, but in dealing in porcelain, spices, &c. It was debated for a length of time in the parliament of Paris whether he had not, in his quality of spice-merchant, forfeited his rank in the peerage. It was decided in the negative. A caricature of him was made, dressed as a street-porter, carrying a large bale of spices on his back, with the inscription, "Admirez LA FORCE. "

When fortunes such as these were gained, it is no wonder that Law shouldhave been almost worshipped by the mercurial population. Never was monarchmore flattered than he was. All the small poets and _littérateurs_ of theday poured floods of adulation upon him. According to them, he was thesaviour of the country, the tutelary divinity of France; wit was in allhis words, goodness in all his looks, and wisdom in all his actions. Sogreat a crowd followed his carriage whenever he went abroad, that theregent sent him a troop of horse as his permanent escort to clear thestreets before him. 

It was remarked at this time that Paris had never before been so full ofobjects of elegance and luxury. Statues, pictures, and tapestries wereimported in great quantities from foreign countries, and found a readymarket. All those pretty trifles in the way of furniture and ornamentwhich the French excel in manufacturing were no longer the exclusiveplaythings of the aristocracy, but were to be found in abundance in thehouses of traders and the middle classes in general. Jewellery of the mostcostly description was brought to Paris as the most favourable mart; amongthe rest, the famous diamond bought by the regent, and called by his name, and which long adorned the crown of France. It was purchased for the sumof two millions of livres, under circumstances which shew that the regentwas not so great a gainer as some of his subjects by the impetus whichtrade had received. When the diamond was first offered to him, he refusedto buy it, although he desired above all things to possess it, alleging ashis reason, that his duty to the country he governed would not allow himto spend so large a sum of the public money for a mere jewel. This validand honourable excuse threw all the ladies of the court into alarm, andnothing was heard for some days but expressions of regret that so rare agem should be allowed to go out of France, no private individual beingrich enough to buy it. The regent was continually importuned about it, butall in vain, until the Duke de St. Simon, who with all his ability wassomething of a twaddler, undertook the weighty business. His entreatiesbeing seconded by Law, the good-natured regent gave his consent, leavingto Law's ingenuity to find the means to pay for it. The owner tooksecurity for the payment of the sum of two millions of livres within astated period, receiving in the mean time the interest of five per centupon that amount, and being allowed, besides, all the valuable clippingsof the gem. St. Simon, in his _Memoirs_, relates with no littlecomplacency his share in this transaction. After describing the diamond tobe as large as a greengage, of a form nearly round, perfectly white, andwithout flaw, and weighing more than five hundred grains, he concludeswith a chuckle, by telling the world "that he takes great credit tohimself for having induced the regent to make so illustrious a purchase. "In other words, he was proud that he had induced him to sacrifice hisduty, and buy a bauble for himself at an extravagant price out of thepublic money. 

Thus the system continued to flourish till the commencement of the year1720. The warnings of the parliament, that too great a creation of papermoney would, sooner or later, bring the country to bankruptcy, weredisregarded. The regent, who knew nothing whatever of the philosophy offinance, thought that a system which had produced such good effects couldnever be carried to excess. If five hundred millions of paper had been ofsuch advantage, five hundred millions additional would be of still greateradvantage. This was the grand error of the regent, and which Law did notattempt to dispel. The extraordinary avidity of the people kept up thedelusion; and the higher the price of Indian and Mississippi stock, themore _billets de banque_ were issued to keep pace with it. The edificethus reared might not unaptly be compared to the gorgeous palace erectedby Potemkin, that princely barbarian of Russia, to surprise and please hisimperial mistress: huge blocks of ice were piled one upon another; ionicpillars, of chastest workmanship, in ice, formed a noble portico; and adome, of the same material, shone in the sun, which had just strengthenough to gild, but not to melt it. It glittered afar, like a palace ofcrystals and diamonds; but there came one warm breeze from the south, andthe stately building dissolved away, till none were able even to gather upthe fragments. So with Law and his paper system. No sooner did the breathof popular mistrust blow steadily upon it, than it fell to ruins, and nonecould raise it up again. 

The first slight alarm that was occasioned was early in 1720. The Princede Conti, offended that Law should have denied him fresh shares in Indiastock, at his own price, sent to his bank to demand payment in specie ofso enormous a quantity of notes, that three wagons were required for itstransport. Law complained to the regent, and urged on his attention themischief that would be done, if such an example found many imitators. Theregent was but too well aware of it, and, sending for the Prince de Conti, ordered him, under penalty of his high displeasure, to refund to the banktwo-thirds of the specie which he had withdrawn from it. The prince wasforced to obey the despotic mandate. Happily for Law's credit, De Contiwas an unpopular man: every body condemned his meanness and cupidity, andagreed that Law had been hardly treated. It is strange, however, that sonarrow an escape should not have made both Law and the regent more anxiousto restrict their issues. Others were soon found who imitated, frommotives of distrust, the example which had been set by De Conti inrevenge. The more acute stockjobbers imagined justly that prices could notcontinue to rise for ever. Bourdon and La Richardière, renowned for theirextensive operations in the funds, quietly and in small quantities at atime, converted their notes into specie, and sent it away to foreigncountries. They also bought as much as they could conveniently carry ofplate and expensive jewellery, and sent it secretly away to England or toHolland. Vermalet, a jobber, who sniffed the coming storm, procured goldand silver coin to the amount of nearly a million of livres, which hepacked in a farmer's cart, and covered over with hay and cow-dung. He thendisguised himself in the dirty smock-frock, or _blouse_, of a peasant, anddrove his precious load in safety into Belgium. From thence he soon foundmeans to transport it to Amsterdam. 

Hitherto no difficulty had been experienced by any class in procuringspecie for their wants. But this system could not long be carried onwithout causing a scarcity. The voice of complaint was heard on everyside, and inquiries being instituted, the cause was soon discovered. Thecouncil debated long on the remedies to be taken, and Law, being called onfor his advice, was of opinion, that an edict should be published, depreciating the value of coin five per cent below that of paper. Theedict was published accordingly; but failing of its intended effect, wasfollowed by another, in which the depreciation was increased to ten percent. The payments of the bank were at the same time restricted to onehundred livres in gold, and ten in silver. All these measures werenugatory to restore confidence in the paper, though the restriction ofcash payments within limits so extremely narrow kept up the credit of thebank. 

[Illustration: LUCIFER'S NEW ROW-BARGE. [11]]

 [11] "Lucifer's New Row-Barge" exhibits Law in a barge, with a host of emblematic figures representing the Mississippi follies. --_From a Print in Mr. Hawkins' Collection_. 

Notwithstanding every effort to the contrary, the precious metalscontinued to be conveyed to England and Holland. The little coin that wasleft in the country was carefully treasured, or hidden until the scarcitybecame so great, that the operations of trade could no longer be carriedon. In this emergency, Law hazarded the bold experiment of forbidding theuse of specie altogether. In February 1720 an edict was published, which, instead of restoring the credit of the paper, as was intended, destroyedit irrecoverably, and drove the country to the very brink of revolution. By this famous edict it was forbidden to any person whatever to have morethan five hundred livres (20l. ) of coin in his possession, under pain of aheavy fine, and confiscation of the sums found. It was also forbidden tobuy up jewellery, plate, and precious stones, and informers wereencouraged to make search for offenders, by the promise of one-half theamount they might discover. The whole country sent up a cry of distress atthis unheard-of tyranny. The most odious persecution daily took place. Theprivacy of families was violated by the intrusion of informers and theiragents. The most virtuous and honest were denounced for the crime ofhaving been seen with a _louis d'or_ in their possession. Servantsbetrayed their masters, one citizen became a spy upon his neighbour, andarrests and confiscations so multiplied, that the courts found adifficulty in getting through the immense increase of business thusoccasioned. It was sufficient for an informer to say that he suspected anyperson of concealing money in his house, and immediately'a search-warrantwas granted. Lord Stair, the English ambassador, said, that it was nowimpossible to doubt of the sincerity of Law's conversion to the Catholicreligion; he had established the _inquisition_, after having givenabundant evidence of his faith in _transubstantiation_, by turning so muchgold into paper. 

Every epithet that popular hatred could suggest was showered upon theregent and the unhappy Law. Coin, to any amount above five hundred livres, was an illegal tender, and nobody would take paper if he could help it. Noone knew to-day what his notes would be worth to-morrow. "Never, " saysDuclos, in his _Secret Memoirs of the Regency_, "was seen a morecapricious government--never was a more frantic tyranny exercised by handsless firm. It is inconceivable to those who were witnesses of the horrorsof those times, and who look back upon them now as on a dream, that asudden revolution did not break out--that Law and the regent did notperish by a tragical death. They were both held in horror, but the peopleconfined themselves to complaints; a sombre and timid despair, a stupidconsternation, had seized upon all, and men's minds were too vile even tobe capable of a courageous crime. " It would appear that, a one time, amovement of the people was organised. Seditious writings were posted upagainst the walls, and were sent, in hand-bills, to the houses of the mostconspicuous people. One of them, given in the _Mémoires de la Régence_, was to the following effect:--"Sir and madam, --This is to give you noticethat a St. Bartholomew's Day will be enacted again on Saturday and Sunday, if affairs do not alter. You are desired not to stir out, nor you, noryour servants. God preserve you from the flames! Give notice to yourneighbours. Dated, Saturday, May 25th, 1720. " The immense number of spieswith which the city was infested rendered the people mistrustful of oneanother, and beyond some trifling disturbances made in the evening by aninsignificant group, which was soon dispersed, the peace of the capitalwas not compromised. 

[Illustration]

The value of shares in the Louisiana, or Mississippi stock, had fallenvery rapidly, and few indeed were found to believe the tales that had oncebeen told of the immense wealth of that region. A last effort wastherefore tried to restore the public confidence in the Mississippiproject. For this purpose, a general conscription of all the poor wretchesin Paris was made by order of government. Upwards of six thousand of thevery refuse of the population were impressed, as if in time of war, andwere provided with clothes and tools to be embarked for New Orleans, towork in the gold mines alleged to abound there. They were paraded dayafter day through the streets with their pikes and shovels, and then sentoff in small detachments to the out-ports to be shipped for America. Two-thirds of them never reached their destination, but dispersedthemselves over the country, sold their tools for what they could get, andreturned to their old course of life. In less than three weeks afterwards, one-half of them were to be found again in Paris. The manoeuvre, however, caused a trifling advance in Mississippi stock. Many persons ofsuperabundant gullibility believed that operations had begun in earnest inthe new Golconda, and that gold and silver ingots would again be found inFrance. 

In a constitutional monarchy some surer means would have been found forthe restoration of public credit. In England, at a subsequent period, whena similar delusion had brought on similar distress, how different were themeasures taken to repair the evil; but in France, unfortunately, theremedy was left to the authors of the mischief. The arbitrary will of theregent, which endeavoured to extricate the country, only plunged it deeperinto the mire. All payments were ordered to be made in paper, and betweenthe 1st of February and the end of May, notes were fabricated to theamount of upwards of 1500 millions of livres, or 60, 000, 000l. Sterling. But the alarm once sounded, no art could make the people feel theslightest confidence in paper which was not exchangeable into metal. M. Lambert, the president of the parliament of Paris, told the regent to hisface that he would rather have a hundred thousand livres in gold or silverthan five millions in the notes of his bank. When such was the generalfeeling, the superabundant issues of paper but increased the evil, byrendering still more enormous the disparity between the amount of specieand notes in circulation. Coin, which it was the object of the regent todepreciate, rose in value on every fresh attempt to diminish it. InFebruary, it was judged advisable that the Royal Bank should beincorporated with the Company of the Indies. An edict to that effect waspublished and registered by the parliament. The state remained theguarantee for the notes of the bank, and no more were to be issued withoutan order in council. All the profits of the bank, since the time it hadbeen taken out of Law's hands and made a national institution, were givenover by the regent to the Company of the Indies. This measure had theeffect of raising for a short time the value of the Louisiana and othershares of the company, but it failed in placing public credit on anypermanent basis. 

A council of state was held in the beginning of May, at which Law, D'Argenson (his colleague in the administration of the finances), and allthe ministers were present. It was then computed that the total amount ofnotes in circulation was 2600 millions of livres, while the coin in thecountry was not quite equal to half that amount. It was evident to themajority of the council that some plan must be adopted to equalise thecurrency. Some proposed that the notes should be reduced to the value ofthe specie, while others proposed that the nominal value of the specieshould be raised till it was on an equality with the paper. Law is said tohave opposed both these projects, but failing in suggesting any other, itwas agreed that the notes should be depreciated one half. On the 21st ofMay, an edict was accordingly issued, by which it was decreed that theshares of the Company of the Indies, and the notes of the bank, shouldgradually diminish in value, till at the end of a year they should onlypass current for one-half of their nominal worth. The parliament refusedto register the edict--the greatest outcry was excited, and the state ofthe country became so alarming, that, as the only means of preservingtranquillity, the council of the regency was obliged to stultify its ownproceedings, by publishing within seven days another edict, restoring thenotes to their original value. 

On the same day (the 27th of May) the bank stopped payment in specie. Lawand D'Argenson were both dismissed from the ministry. The weak, vacillating, and cowardly regent threw the blame of all the mischief uponLaw, who, upon presenting himself at the Palais Royal, was refusedadmittance. At nightfall, however, he was sent for, and admitted into thepalace by a secret door, [12] when the regent endeavoured to console him, and made all manner of excuses for the severity with which in public hehad been compelled to treat him. So capricious was his conduct, that, twodays afterwards, he took him publicly to the opera, where he sat in theroyal box alongside of the regent, who treated him with markedconsideration in face of all the people. But such was the hatred againstLaw that the experiment had well nigh proved fatal to him. The mobassailed his carriage with stones just as he was entering his own door;and if the coachman had not made a sudden jerk into the court-yard, andthe domestics closed the gate immediately, he would, in all probability, have been dragged out and torn to pieces. On the following day, his wifeand daughter were also assailed by the mob as they were returning in theircarriage from the races. When the regent was informed of these occurrenceshe sent Law a strong detachment of Swiss guards, who were stationed nightand day in the court of his residence. The public indignation at lastincreased so much, that Law, finding his own house, even with this guard, insecure, took refuge in the Palais Royal, in the apartments of theregent. 

 [12] Duclos, _Memoires Secrets de la Régence_. 

The Chancellor, D'Aguesseau, who had been dismissed in 1718 for hisopposition to the projects of Law, was now recalled to aid in therestoration of credit. The regent acknowledged too late, that he hadtreated with unjustifiable harshness and mistrust one of the ablest, andperhaps the sole honest public man of that corrupt period. He had retiredever since his disgrace to his country house at Fresnes, where, in themidst of severe but delightful philosophic studies, he had forgotten theintrigues of an unworthy court. Law himself, and the Chevalier deConflans, a gentleman of the regent's household, were despatched in apost-chaise with orders to bring the ex-chancellor to Paris along withthem. D'Aguesseau consented to render what assistance he could, contraryto the advice of his friends, who did not approve that he should acceptany recal to office of which Law was the bearer. On his arrival in Paris, five counsellors of the parliament were admitted to confer with theCommissary of Finance; and on the 1st of June an order was publishedabolishing the law which made it criminal to amass coin to the amount ofmore than five hundred livres. Every one was permitted to have as muchspecie as he pleased. In order that the bank-notes might be withdrawn, twenty-five millions of new notes were created, on the security of therevenues of the city of Paris, at two-and-a-half per cent. The bank-noteswithdrawn were publicly burned in front of the Hôtel de Ville. The newnotes were principally of the value of ten livres each; and on the 10th ofJune the bank was re-opened, with a sufficiency of silver coin to give inchange for them. 

[Illustration: D'AGUESSEAU. ]

These measures were productive of considerable advantage. All thepopulation of Paris hastened to the bank to get coin for their smallnotes; and silver becoming scarce, they were paid in copper. Very fewcomplained that this was too heavy, although poor fellows might becontinually seen toiling and sweating along the streets, laden with morethan they could comfortably carry, in the shape of change for fiftylivres. The crowds around the bank were so great, that hardly a day passedthat some one was not pressed to death. On the 9th of July, the multitudewas so dense and clamorous that the guards stationed at the entrance ofthe Mazarin Gardens closed the gate and refused to admit any more. Thecrowd became incensed, and flung stones through the railings upon thesoldiers. The latter, incensed in their turn, threatened to fire upon thepeople. At that instant one of them was hit by a stone, and, taking uphis piece, he fired into the crowd. One man fell dead immediately, andanother was severely wounded. It was every instant expected that a generalattack would have been commenced upon the bank; but the gates of theMazarin Gardens being opened to the crowd, who saw a whole troop ofsoldiers, with their bayonets fixed ready to receive them, they contentedthemselves by giving vent to their indignation in groans and hisses. 

Eight days afterwards the concourse of people was so tremendous thatfifteen persons were squeezed to death at the doors of the bank. Thepeople were so indignant that they took three of the bodies on stretchersbefore them, and proceeded, to the number of seven or eight thousand, tothe gardens of the Palais Royal, that they might shew the regent themisfortunes that he and Law had brought upon the country. Law's coachman, who was sitting at the box of his master's carriage, in the court-yard ofthe palace, happened to have more zeal than discretion, and, not likingthat the mob should abuse his master, he said, loud enough to be overheardby several persons, that they were all blackguards, and deserved to behanged. The mob immediately set upon him, and thinking that Law was in thecarriage, broke it to pieces. The imprudent coachman narrowly escaped withhis life. No further mischief was done; a body of troops making theirappearance, the crowd quietly dispersed, after an assurance had been givenby the regent that the three bodies they had brought to shew him should bedecently buried at his own expense. The parliament was sitting at the timeof this uproar, and the president took upon himself to go out and see whatwas the matter. On his return he informed the councillors that Law'scarriage had been broken by the mob. All the members rose simultaneously, and expressed their joy by a loud shout, while one man, more zealous inhis hatred than the rest, exclaimed, "_And Law himself, is_ he _torn topieces?_"[13]

 [13] The Duchess of Orleans gives a different version of this story; but whichever be the true one, the manifestation of such feeling in a legislative assembly was not very creditable. She says that the president was so transported with joy, that he was seized with a rhyming fit, and, returning into the hall, exclaimed to the members:

 "_Messieurs! Messieurs! bonne nouvelle! Le carrosse de Lass est reduit en cannelle!_"

Much, undoubtedly, depended on the credit of the Company of the Indies, which was answerable for so great a sum to the nation. It was thereforesuggested in the council of the ministry, that any privileges which couldbe granted to enable it to fulfil its engagements, would be productive ofthe best results. With this end in view, it was proposed that theexclusive privilege of all maritime commerce should be secured to it, andan edict to that effect was published. But it was unfortunately forgottenthat by such a measure all the merchants of the country would be ruined. The idea of such an immense privilege was generally scouted by the nation, and petition on petition was presented to the parliament that they wouldrefuse to register the decree. They refused accordingly, and the regent, remarking that they did nothing but fan the flame of sedition, exiled themto Blois. At the intercession of D'Aguesseau, the place of banishment waschanged to Pontoise, and thither accordingly the councillors repaired, determined to set the regent at defiance. They made every arrangement forrendering their temporary exile as agreeable as possible. The presidentgave the most elegant suppers, to which he invited all the gayest andwittiest company of Paris. Every night there was a concert and ball forthe ladies. The usually grave and solemn judges and councillors joined incards and other diversions, leading for several weeks a life of the mostextravagant pleasure, for no other purpose than to shew the regent of howlittle consequence they deemed their banishment, and that, when theywilled it, they could make Pontoise a pleasanter residence than Paris. 

Of all the nations in the world the French are the most renowned forsinging over their grievances. Of that country it has been remarked withsome truth, that its whole history may be traced in its songs. When Law, by the utter failure of his best-laid plans, rendered himself obnoxious, satire of course seized hold upon him; and while caricatures of his personappeared in all the shops, the streets resounded with songs, in whichneither he nor the regent was spared. Many of these songs were far fromdecent; and one of them in particular counselled the application of allhis notes to the most ignoble use to which paper can be applied. But thefollowing, preserved in the letters of the Duchess of Orleans, was thebest and the most popular, and was to be heard for months in all the_carrefours_ in Paris. The application of the chorus is happy enough:

 Aussitôt que Lass arriva Dans notre bonne ville, Monsieur le Régent publia Que Lass serait utile Pour rétablir la nation. _La faridondaine! la faridondon!_ Mais il nous a tous enrichi, _Biribi!_ _A la façon de Barbari, _ _Mon ami!_

 Ce parpaillot, pour attirer Tout l'argent de la France, Songea d'abord à s'assurer De notre confiance. Il fit son abjuration, _La faridondaine! la faridondon!_ Mais le fourbe s'est converti, _Biribi!_ _A la façon de Barbari, _ _Mon ami!_

 Lass, le fils aîné de Satan Nous met tous à l'aumône, Il nous a pris tout notre argent Et n'en rend à personne. Mais le Régent, humain et bon, _La faridondaine! la faridondon!_ Nous rendra ce qu'on nous a pris, _Biribi!_ _A la façon de Barbari, _ _Mon ami!_

The following epigram is of the same date:

 _Lundi_, j'achetai des actions; _Mardi_, je gagnai des millions; _Mercredi_, j'arrangeai mon ménage, _Jeudi_, je pris un équipage, _Vendredi_, je m'en fus au bal, _Et Samedi_, à l'hôpital. 

Among the caricatures that were abundantly published, and that shewed asplainly as graver matters, that the nation had awakened to a sense of itsfolly, was one, a fac-simile of which is preserved in the _Mémoires de laRégence_. It was thus described by its author: "The 'Goddess of Shares, 'in her triumphal car, driven by the Goddess of Folly. Those who aredrawing the car are impersonations of the Mississippi, with his woodenleg, the South Sea, the Bank of England, the Company of the West ofSenegal, and of various assurances. Lest the car should not roll fastenough, the agents of these companies, known by their long fox-tails andtheir cunning looks, turn round the spokes of the wheels, upon which aremarked the names of the several stocks and their value, sometimes high andsometimes low, according to the turns of the wheel. Upon the ground arethe merchandise, day-books and ledgers of legitimate commerce, crushedunder the chariot of Folly. Behind is an immense crowd of persons, of allages, sexes, and conditions, clamoring after Fortune, and fighting witheach other to get a portion of the shares which she distributes sobountifully among them. In the clouds sits a demon, blowing bubbles ofsoap, which are also the objects of the admiration and cupidity of thecrowd, who jump upon one another's backs to reach them ere they burst. Right in the pathway of the car, and blocking up the passage, stands alarge building, with three doors, through one of which it must pass, if itproceeds farther, and all the crowd along with it. Over the first door arethe words, '_Hôpital des Foux_, ' over the second, '_Hôpital des Malades_, 'and over the third, '_Hôpital des Gueux_. '" Another caricature representedLaw sitting in a large cauldron, boiling over the flames of popularmadness, surrounded by an impetuous multitude, who were pouring all theirgold and silver into it, and receiving gladly in exchange the bits ofpaper which he distributed among them by handfuls. 

While this excitement lasted, Law took good care not to expose himselfunguarded in the streets. Shut up in the apartments of the regent, he wassecure from all attack; and whenever he ventured abroad, it was either_incognito_, or in one of the royal carriages, with a powerful escort. Anamusing anecdote is recorded of the detestation in which he was held bythe people, and the ill-treatment he would have met had he fallen intotheir hands. A gentleman of the name of Boursel was passing in hiscarriage down the Rue St. Antoine, when his farther progress was stayed bya hackney-coach that had blocked up the road. M. Boursel's servant calledimpatiently to the hackney-coachman to get out of the way, and, on hisrefusal, struck him a blow on the face. A crowd was soon drawn together bythe disturbance, and M. Boursel got out of the carriage to restore order. The hackney-coachman, imagining that he had now another assailant, bethought him of an expedient to rid himself of both, and called out asloudly as he was able, "Help! help! murder! murder! Here are Law and hisservant going to kill me! Help! help!" At this cry the people came out oftheir shops, armed with sticks and other weapons, while the mob gatheredstones to inflict summary vengeance upon the supposed financier. Happilyfor M. Boursel and his servant, the door of the church of the Jesuitsstood wide open, and, seeing the fearful odds against them, they rushedtowards it with all speed. They reached the altar, pursued by the people, and would have been ill-treated even there, if, finding the door openleading to the sacristy, they had not sprang through, and closed it afterthem. The mob were then persuaded to leave the church by the alarmed andindignant priests, and finding M. Boursel's carriage still in the streets, they vented their ill-will against it, and did it considerable damage. 

The twenty-five millions secured on the municipal revenues of the city ofParis, bearing so low an interest as two and a half per cent, were notvery popular among the large holders of Mississippi stock. The conversionof the securities was, therefore, a work of considerable difficulty; formany preferred to retain the falling paper of Law's Company, in the hopethat a favourable turn might take place. On the 15th of August, with aview to hasten the conversion, an edict was passed, declaring that allnotes for sums between one thousand and ten thousand livres, should notpass current, except for the purchase of annuities and bank accounts, orfor the payment of instalments still due on the shares of the company. 

In October following another edict was passed, depriving these notes ofall value whatever after the month of November next ensuing. Themanagement of the mint, the farming of the revenue, and all the otheradvantages and privileges of the India, or Mississippi Company, were takenfrom them, and they were reduced to a mere private company. This was thedeath-blow to the whole system, which had now got into the hands of itsenemies. Law had lost all influence in the Council of Finance, and thecompany, being despoiled of its immunities, could no longer hold out theshadow of a prospect of being able to fulfil its engagements. All thosesuspected of illegal profits at the time the public delusion was at itsheight, were sought out and amerced in heavy fines. It was previouslyordered that a list of the original proprietors should be made out, andthat such persons as still retained their shares should place them indeposit with the company, and that those who had neglected to complete theshares for which they had put down their names, should now purchase themof the company, at the rate of 13, 500 livres for each share of 500 livres. Rather than submit to pay this enormous sum for stock which was actuallyat a discount, the shareholders packed up all their portable effects, andendeavoured to find a refuge in foreign countries. Orders were immediatelyissued to the authorities at the ports and frontiers, to apprehend alltravellers who sought to leave the kingdom, and keep them in custody, until it was ascertained whether they had any plate or jewellery withthem, or were concerned in the late stock-jobbing. Against such few asescaped, the punishment of death was recorded, while the most arbitraryproceedings were instituted against those who remained. 

Law himself, in a moment of despair, determined to leave a country wherehis life was no longer secure. He at first only demanded permission toretire from Paris to one of his country-seats--a permission which theregent cheerfully granted. The latter was much affected at the unhappyturn affairs had taken, but his faith continued unmoved in the truth andefficacy of Law's financial system. His eyes were opened to his ownerrors; and during the few remaining years of his life he constantlylonged for an opportunity of again establishing the system upon a securerbasis. At Law's last interview with the prince, he is reported to havesaid, --"I confess that I have committed many faults. I committed thembecause I am a man, and all men are liable to error; but I declare to youmost solemnly that none of them proceeded from wicked or dishonestmotives, and that nothing of the kind will be found in the whole course ofmy conduct. "

[Illustration: LAW IN A CAR DRAWN BY COCKS. [14]]

 [14] Law in a car drawn by cocks; from _Het groote Tofereel der Dwaasheid_. 

Two or three days after his departure the regent sent him a very kindletter, permitting him to leave the kingdom whenever he pleased, andstating that he had ordered his passports to be made ready. He at the sametime offered him any sum of money he might require. Law respectfullydeclined the money, and set out for Brussels in a post-chaise belonging toMadame de Prie, the mistress of the Duke of Bourbon, escorted by sixhorse-guards. From thence he proceeded to Venice, where he remained forsome months, the object of the greatest curiosity to the people, whobelieved him to be the possessor of enormous wealth. No opinion, however, could be more erroneous. With more generosity than could have beenexpected from a man who during the greatest part of his life had been aprofessed gambler, he had refused to enrich himself at the expense of aruined nation. During the height of the popular frenzy for Mississippistock, he had never doubted of the final success of his projects in makingFrance the richest and most powerful nation of Europe. He invested all hisgains in the purchase of landed property in France--a sure proof of hisown belief in the stability of his schemes. He had hoarded no plate orjewellery, and sent no money, like the dishonest jobbers, to foreigncountries. His all, with the exception of one diamond, worth about five orsix thousand pounds sterling, was invested in the French soil; and when heleft that country, he left it almost a beggar. This fact alone ought torescue his memory from the charge of knavery, so often and so unjustlybrought against him. 

As soon as his departure was known, all his estates and his valuablelibrary were confiscated. Among the rest, an annuity of 200, 000 livres(8000l. Sterling) on the lives of his wife and children, which had beenpurchased for five millions of livres, was forfeited, notwithstanding thata special edict, drawn up for the purpose in the days of his prosperity, had expressly declared that it should never be confiscated for any causewhatever. Great discontent existed among the people that Law had beensuffered to escape. The mob and the parliament would have been pleased tohave seen him hanged. The few who had not suffered by the commercialrevolution rejoiced that the _quack_ had left the country; but all those(and they were by far the most numerous class) whose fortunes wereimplicated regretted that his intimate knowledge of the distress of thecountry, and of the causes that had led to it, had not been rendered moreavailable in discovering a remedy. 

At a meeting of the Council of Finance and the General Council of theRegency, documents were laid upon the table, from which it appeared thatthe amount of notes in circulation was 2700 millions. The regent wascalled upon to explain how it happened that there was a discrepancybetween the dates at which these issues were made and those of the edictsby which they were authorised. He might have safely taken the whole blameupon himself, but he preferred that an absent man should bear a share ofit; and he therefore stated that Law, upon his own authority, had issued1200 millions of notes at different times, and that he (the regent), seeing that the thing had been irrevocably done, had screened Law byantedating the decrees of the council which authorised the augmentation. It would have been more to his credit if he had told the whole truth whilehe was about it, and acknowledged that it was mainly through hisextravagance and impatience that Law had been induced to overstep thebounds of safe speculation. It was also ascertained that the nationaldebt, on the 1st of January 1721, amounted to upwards of 3100 millions oflivres, or more than 124, 000, 000l. Sterling, the interest upon which was3, 196, 000l. A commission, or _visa_, was forthwith appointed to examineinto all the securities of the state creditors, who were to be dividedinto five classes; the first four comprising those who had purchased theirsecurities with real effects, and, the latter comprising those who couldgive no proofs that the transactions they had entered into were real and_bonâ fide_. The securities of the latter were ordered to be destroyed, while those of the first four classes were subjected to a most rigid andjealous scrutiny. The result of the labours of the _visa_, was a report, in which they counselled the reduction of the interest upon thesesecurities to fifty-six millions of livres. They justified, this, adviceby a statement of the various acts of peculation and extortion which theyhad discovered; and an edict to that effect was accordingly published andduly registered by the parliaments of the kingdom. 

[Illustration: D'ARGENSON. ]

Another tribunal was afterwards established, under the title of the_Chambre de l'Arsenal_, which took cognisance of all the malversationscommitted in the financial departments of the government, during the lateunhappy period. A Master of Requests, named Falhonet, together with theAbbé Clement, and two clerks in their employ, had been concerned in diversacts of peculation to the amount of upwards of a million of livres. Thefirst two were sentenced to be beheaded, and the latter to be hanged; buttheir punishment was afterwards commuted into imprisonment for life in theBastille. Numerous other acts of dishonesty were discovered, and punished, by fine and imprisonment. 

D'Argenson shared with Law and the regent the unpopularity which hadalighted upon all those concerned in the Mississippi madness. He wasdismissed from his post of Chancellor to make room for D'Aguesseau; but heretained the title of Keeper of the Seals, and was allowed to attend thecouncils whenever he pleased. He thought it better, however, to withdrawfrom Paris, and live for a time a life of seclusion at his country-seat. But he was not formed for retirement; and becoming moody and discontented, he aggravated a disease under which he had long laboured, and died in lessthan a twelve-month. The populace of Paris so detested him, that theycarried their hatred even to his grave. As his funeral procession passedto the church of St. Nicholas du Chardonneret, the burying-place of hisfamily, it was beset by a riotous mob, and his two sons, who werefollowing as chief mourners, were obliged to drive as fast as they wereable down a by-street to escape personal violence. 

As regards Law, he for some time entertained a hope that he should berecalled to France, to aid in establishing its credit upon a firmer basis. The death of the regent in 1723, who expired suddenly as he was sitting bythe fireside conversing with his mistress, the Duchess de Phalaris, deprived him of that hope, and he was reduced to lead his former life ofgambling. He was more than once obliged to pawn his diamond, the soleremnant of his vast wealth, but successful play generally enabled him toredeem it. Being persecuted by his creditors at Rome, he proceeded toCopenhagen, where he received permission from the English ministry toreside in his native country, his pardon for the murder of Mr. Wilsonhaving been sent over to him in 1719. He was brought over in the admiral'sship--a circumstance which gave occasion for a short debate in the Houseof Lords. Earl Coningsby complained that a man who had renounced both hiscountry and his religion, should have been treated with such honour, andexpressed his belief that his presence in England, at a time when thepeople were so bewildered by the nefarious practices of the South-Seadirectors, would be attended with no little danger. He gave notice of amotion on the subject; but it was allowed to drop, no other member of theHouse having the slightest participation in his lordship's fears. Lawremained for about four years in England, and then proceeded to Venice, where he died in 1729, in very embarrassed circumstances. The followingepitaph was written at the time:

 "Ci gît cet Ecossais célébre, Ce calculateur sans égal, Qui, par les régles de l'algébre, A mis la France à l'hôpital. "

His brother, William Law, who had been concerned with him in theadministration both of the bank and the Louisiana Company, was imprisonedin the Bastille for alleged malversation, but no guilt was ever provedagainst him. He was liberated after fifteen months, and became the founderof a family, which is still known in France under the title of Marquisesof Lauriston. 

[Illustration: NECK OR NOTHING. [15]]

 [15] Neck or nothing, or downfall of the Mississippi Company. --_From a Print in Mr. Hawkins' Collection_. 

In the next chapter will be found an account of the madness which infectedthe people of England at the same time, and under very similarcircumstances, but which, thanks to the energies and good sense of aconstitutional government, was attended with results far less disastrousthan those which were seen in France. 

[Illustration: SOUTH-SEA HOUSE. ]

THE SOUTH-SEA BUBBLE. 

 At length corruption, like a general flood, Did deluge all; and avarice creeping on, Spread, like a low-born mist, and hid the sun. Statesmen and patriots plied alike the stocks, Peeress and butler shared alike the box; And judges jobbed, and bishops bit the town, And mighty dukes packed cards for half-a-crown: Britain was sunk in lucre's sordid charms. --_Pope_. 

The South-Sea Company was originated by the celebrated Harley Earl ofOxford, in the year 1711, with the view of restoring public credit, whichhad suffered by the dismissal of the Whig ministry, and of providing forthe discharge of the army and navy debentures, and other parts of thefloating debt, amounting to nearly ten millions sterling. A company ofmerchants, at that time without a name, took this debt upon themselves, and the government agreed to secure them for a certain period the interestof six per cent. To provide for this interest, amounting to 600, 000l. Perannum, the duties upon wines, vinegar, India goods, wrought silks, tobacco, whale-fins, and some other articles, were rendered permanent. Themonopoly of the trade to the South Seas was granted, and the company, being incorporated by act of parliament, assumed the title by which it hasever since been known. The minister took great credit to himself for hisshare in this transaction, and the scheme was always called by hisflatterers "the Earl of Oxford's masterpiece. "

[Illustration: HARLEY EARL OF OXFORD]

Even at this early period of its history the most visionary ideas wereformed by the company and the public of the immense riches of the easterncoast of South America. Every body had heard of the gold and silver minesof Peru and Mexico; every one believed them to be inexhaustible, and thatit was only necessary to send the manufactures of England to the coast tobe repaid a hundred fold in gold and silver ingots by the natives. Areport, industriously spread, that Spain was willing to concede four portson the coasts of Chili and Peru for the purposes of traffic, increased thegeneral confidence, and for many years the South-Sea Company's stock wasin high favour. 

Philip V. Of Spain, however, never had any intention of admitting theEnglish to a free trade in the ports of Spanish America. Negotiations wereset on foot, but their only result was the _assiento_ contract, or theprivilege of supplying the colonies with negroes for thirty years, and ofsending once a year a vessel, limited both as to tonnage and value ofcargo, to trade with Mexico, Peru, or Chili. The latter permission wasonly granted upon the hard condition, that the King of Spain should enjoyone-fourth of the profits, and a tax of five per cent on the remainder. This was a great disappointment to the Earl of Oxford and his party, whowere reminded much oftener than they found agreeable of the

 "_Parturiunt montes, nascitur ridiculus mus_. "

But the public confidence in the South-Sea Company was not shaken. TheEarl of Oxford declared that Spain would permit two ships, in addition tothe annual ship, to carry out merchandise during the first year; and alist was published, in which all the ports and harbours of these coastswere pompously set forth as open to the trade of Great Britain. The firstvoyage of the annual ship was not made till the year 1717, and in thefollowing year the trade was suppressed by the rupture with Spain. 

The king's speech, at the opening of the session of 1717, made pointedallusion to the state of public credit, and recommended that propermeasures should be taken to reduce the national debt. The two greatmonetary corporations, the South-Sea Company and the Bank of England, madeproposals to parliament on the 20th of May ensuing. The South-Sea Companyprayed that their capital stock of ten millions might be increased totwelve, by subscription or otherwise, and offered to accept five per centinstead of six upon the whole amount. The bank made proposals equallyadvantageous. The house debated for some time, and finally three acts werepassed, called the South-Sea Act, the Bank Act, and the General Fund Act. By the first, the proposals of the South-Sea Company were accepted, andthat body held itself ready to advance the sum of two millions towardsdischarging the principal and interest of the debt due by the state forthe four lottery funds, of the ninth and tenth years of Queen Anne. By thesecond act, the bank received a lower rate of interest for the sum of1, 775, 027l. 15s. Due to it by the state, and agreed to deliver up to becancelled as many exchequer bills as amounted to two millions sterling, and to accept of an annuity of one hundred thousand pounds, being afterthe rate of five per cent, the whole redeemable at one year's notice. Theywere further required to be ready to advance, in case of need, a sum notexceeding 2, 500, 000l. Upon the same terms of five per cent interest, redeemable by parliament. The General Fund Act recited the variousdeficiencies, which were to be made good by the aids derived from theforegoing sources. 

The name of the South-Sea Company was thus continually before the public. Though their trade with the South American States produced little or noaugmentation of their revenues, they continued to flourish as a monetarycorporation. Their stock was in high request, and the directors, buoyed upwith success, began to think of new means for extending their influence. The Mississippi scheme of John Law, which so dazzled and captivated theFrench people, inspired them with an idea that they could carry on thesame game in England. The anticipated failure of his plans did not divertthem from their intention. Wise in their own conceit, they imagined theycould avoid his faults, carry on their schemes for ever, and stretch thecord of credit to its extremest tension, without causing it to snapasunder. 

It was while Law's plan was at its greatest height of popularity, whilepeople were crowding in thousands to the Rue Quincampoix, and ruiningthemselves with frantic eagerness, that the South-Sea directors laidbefore parliament their famous plan for paying off the national debt. Visions of boundless wealth floated before the fascinated eyes of thepeople in the two most celebrated countries of Europe. The Englishcommenced their career of extravagance somewhat later than the French; butas soon as the delirium seized them, they were determined not to beoutdone. Upon the 22d of January, 1720, the House of Commons resolveditself into a committee of the whole house, to take into considerationthat part of the king's speech at the opening of the session which relatedto the public debts, and the proposal of the South-Sea Company towards theredemption and sinking of the same. The proposal set forth at greatlength, and under several heads, the debts of the state, amounting to30, 981, 712l. , which the company were anxious to take upon themselves, uponconsideration of five per cent per annum, secured to them until Midsummer1727; after which time, the whole was to become redeemable at the pleasureof the legislature, and the interest to be reduced to four per cent. Theproposal was received with great favour; but the Bank of England had manyfriends in the House of Commons, who were desirous that that body shouldshare in the advantages that were likely to accrue. On behalf of thiscorporation it was represented, that they had performed great and eminentservices to the state in the most difficult times, and deserved, at least, that if any advantage was to be made by public bargains of this nature, they should be preferred before a company that had never done any thingfor the nation. The further consideration of the matter was accordinglypostponed for five days. In the mean time, a plan was drawn up by thegovernors of the bank. The South-Sea Company, afraid that the bank mightoffer still more advantageous terms to the government than themselves, reconsidered their former proposal, and made some alterations in it, whichthey hoped would render it more acceptable. The principal change was astipulation that the government might redeem these debts at the expirationof four years, instead of seven, as at first suggested. The bank resolvednot to be outbidden in this singular auction, and the governors alsoreconsidered their first proposal, and sent in a new one. 

Thus, each corporation having made two proposals, the house began todeliberate. Mr. Robert Walpole was the chief speaker in favour of thebank, and Mr. Aislabie, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the principaladvocate on behalf of the South-Sea Company. It was resolved, on the 2d ofFebruary, that the proposals of the latter were most advantageous to thecountry. They were accordingly received, and leave was given to bring in abill to that effect. 

Exchange Alley was in a fever of excitement. The company's stock, whichhad been at a hundred and thirty the previous day, gradually rose to threehundred, and continued to rise with the most astonishing rapidity duringthe whole time that the bill in its several stages was under discussion. Mr. Walpole was almost the only statesman in the House who spoke outboldly against it. He warned them, in eloquent and solemn language, of theevils that would ensue. It countenanced, he said, "the dangerous practiceof stock-jobbing, and would divert the genius of the nation from trade andindustry. It would hold out a dangerous lure to decoy the unwary to theirruin, by making them part with the earnings of their labour for a prospectof imaginary wealth. The great principle of the project was an evil offirst-rate magnitude; it was to raise artificially the value of the stock, by exciting and keeping up a general infatuation, and by promisingdividends out of funds which could never be adequate to the purpose. " In aprophetic spirit he added, that if the plan succeeded, the directors wouldbecome masters of the government, form a new and absolute aristocracy inthe kingdom, and control the resolutions of the legislature. If it failed, which he was convinced it would, the result would bring general discontentand ruin upon the country. Such would be the delusion, that when the evilday came, as come it would, the people would start up, as from a dream, and ask themselves if these things could have been true. All his eloquencewas in vain. He was looked upon as a false prophet, or compared to thehoarse raven, croaking omens of evil. His friends, however, compared himto Cassandra, predicting evils which would only be believed when they camehome to men's hearths, and stared them in the face at their own boards. Although, in former times, the house had listened with the utmostattention to every word that fell from his lips, the benches becamedeserted when it was known that he would speak on the South-Sea question. 

[Illustration: SIR ROBERT WALPOLE]

The bill was two months in its progress through the House of Commons. During this time every exertion was made by the directors and theirfriends, and more especially by the chairman, the noted Sir John Blunt, toraise the price of the stock. The most extravagant rumours were incirculation. Treaties between England and Spain were spoken of, wherebythe latter was to grant a free trade to all her colonies; and the richproduce of the mines of Potosi-la-Paz was to be brought to England untilsilver should become almost as plentiful as iron. For cotton and woollengoods, with which we could supply them in abundance, the dwellers inMexico were to empty their golden mines. The company of merchants tradingto the South Seas would be the richest the world ever saw, and everyhundred pounds invested in it would produce hundreds per annum to thestockholder. At last the stock was raised by these means to near fourhundred; but, after fluctuating a good deal, settled at three hundred andthirty, at which price it remained when the bill passed the Commons by amajority of 172 against 55. 

In the House of Lords the bill was hurried through all its stages withunexampled rapidity. On the 4th of April it was read a first time; on the5th, it was read a second time; on the 6th, it was committed; and on the7th, was read a third time and passed. 

Several peers spoke warmly against the scheme; but their warnings fellupon dull, cold ears. A speculating frenzy had seized them as well as theplebeians. Lord North and Grey said the bill was unjust in its nature, andmight prove fatal in its consequences, being calculated to enrich the fewand impoverish the many. The Duke of Wharton followed; but, as he onlyretailed at second-hand the arguments so eloquently stated by Walpole inthe Lower House, he was not listened to with even the same attention thathad been bestowed upon Lord North and Grey. Earl Cowper followed on thesame side, and compared the bill to the famous horse of the siege of Troy. Like that, it was ushered in and received with great pomp and acclamationsof joy, but bore within it treachery and destruction. The Earl ofSunderland endeavoured to answer all objections; and on the question beingput, there appeared only seventeen peers against, and eighty-three infavour of the project. The very same day on which it passed the Lords, itreceived the royal assent, and became the law of the land. 

It seemed at that time as if the whole nation had turned stockjobbers. Exchange Alley was every day blocked up by crowds, and Cornhill wasimpassable for the number of carriages. Every body came to purchase stock. "Every fool aspired to be a knave. " In the words of a ballad published atthe time, and sung about the streets, [16]

 "Then stars and garters did appear Among the meaner rabble; To buy and sell, to see and hear The Jews and Gentiles squabble. 

 The greatest ladies thither came, And plied in chariots daily, Or pawned their jewels for a sum To venture in the Alley. "

 [16] _A South-Sea Ballad; or, Merry Remarks upon Exchange-Alley Bubbles. To a new Tune called "The Grand Elixir; or, the Philosopher's Stone discovered. "_

The inordinate thirst of gain that had afflicted all ranks of society wasnot to be slaked even in the South Sea. Other schemes, of the mostextravagant kind, were started. The share-lists were speedily filled up, and an enormous traffic carried on in shares, while, of course, everymeans were resorted to to raise them to an artificial value in the market. 

[Illustration: CORNHILL, 1720. ]

Contrary to all expectation, South-Sea stock fell when the bill receivedthe royal assent. On the 7th of April the shares were quoted at threehundred and ten, and on the following day at two hundred and ninety. Already the directors had tasted the profits of their scheme, and it wasnot likely that they should quietly allow the stock to find its naturallevel without an effort to raise it. Immediately their busy emissarieswere set to work. Every person interested in the success of the projectendeavoured to draw a knot of listeners around him, to whom he expatiatedon the treasures of the South American seas. Exchange Alley was crowdedwith attentive groups. One rumour alone, asserted with the utmostconfidence, had an immediate effect upon the stock. It was said that EarlStanhope had received overtures in France from the Spanish government toexchange Gibraltar and Port Mahon for some places on the coast of Peru, for the security and enlargement of the trade in the South Seas. Insteadof one annual ship trading to those ports, and allowing the king of Spaintwenty-five per cent out of the profits, the company might build andcharter as many ships as they pleased, and pay no per centage whatever toany foreign potentate. 

 "Visions of ingots danced before their eyes, "

and stock rose rapidly. On the 12th of April, five days after the bill hadbecome law, the directors opened their books for a subscription of amillion, at the rate of 300l. For every 100l. Capital. Such was theconcourse of persons of all ranks, that this first subscription was foundto amount to above two millions of original stock. It was to be paid atfive payments, of 60l. Each for every 100l. In a few days the stockadvanced to three hundred and forty, and the subscriptions were sold fordouble the price of the first payment. To raise the stock still higher, itwas declared, in a general court of directors, on the 21st of April, thatthe midsummer dividend should be ten per cent, and that all subscriptionsshould be entitled to the same. These resolutions answering the enddesigned, the directors, to improve the infatuation of the monied men, opened their books for a second subscription of a million, at four hundredper cent. Such was the frantic eagerness of people of every class tospeculate in these funds, that in the course of a few hours no less than amillion and a half was subscribed at that rate. 

In the mean time, innumerable joint-stock companies started up everywhere. They soon received the name of Bubbles, the most appropriate thatimagination could devise. The populace are often most happy in thenicknames they employ. None could be more apt than that of Bubbles. Someof them lasted for a week or a fortnight, and were no more heard of, whileothers could not even live out that short span of existence. Every eveningproduced new schemes, and every morning new projects. The highest of thearistocracy were as eager in this hot pursuit of gain as the most ploddingjobber in Cornhill. The Prince of Wales became governor of one company, and is said to have cleared 40, 000l. By his speculations. [17] The Duke ofBridgewater started a scheme for the improvement of London andWestminster, and the Duke of Chandos another. There were nearly a hundreddifferent projects, each more extravagant and deceptive than the other, Touse the words of the _Political State_, they were "set on foot andpromoted by crafty knaves, then pursued by multitudes of covetous fools, and at last appeared to be, in effect, what their vulgar appellationdenoted them to be--bubbles and mere cheats. " It was computed that nearone million and a half sterling was won and lost by these unwarrantablepractices, to the impoverishment of many a fool, and the enriching of manya rogue. 

 [17] Coxe's _Walpole_, Correspondence between Mr. Secretary Craggs and Earl Stanhope. 

Some of these schemes were plausible enough, and, had they been undertakenat a time when the public mind was unexcited, might have been pursued withadvantage to all concerned. But they were established merely with the viewof raising the shares in the market. The projectors took the firstopportunity of a rise to sell out, and next morning the scheme was at anend. Maitland, in his _History of London_, gravely informs us, that one ofthe projects which received great encouragement, was for the establishmentof a company "to make deal boards out of saw-dust. " This is no doubtintended as a joke; but there is abundance of evidence to shew that dozensof schemes, hardly a whit more reasonable, lived their little day, ruininghundreds ere they fell. One of them was for a wheel for perpetualmotion--capital one million; another was "for encouraging the breed ofhorses in England, and improving of glebe and church lands, and repairingand rebuilding parsonage and vicarage houses. " Why the clergy, who were somainly interested in the latter clause, should have taken so much interestin the first, is only to be explained on the supposition that the schemewas projected by a knot of the fox-hunting parsons, once so common inEngland. The shares of this company were rapidly subscribed for. But themost absurd and preposterous of all, and which shewed, more completelythan any other, the utter madness of the people, was one started by anunknown adventurer, entitled "_A company for carrying on an undertaking ofgreat advantage, but nobody to know what it is_. " Were not the fact statedby scores of credible witnesses, it would be impossible to believe thatany person could have been duped by such a project. The man of genius whoessayed this bold and successful inroad upon public credulity, merelystated in his prospectus that the required capital was half a million, infive thousand shares of 100l. Each, deposit 2l. Per share. Eachsubscriber, paying his deposit, would be entitled to 100l. Per annum pershare. How this immense profit was to be obtained, he did not condescendto inform them at that time, but promised that in a month full particularsshould be duly announced, and a call made for the remaining 98l. Of thesubscription. Next morning, at nine o'clock, this great man opened anoffice in Cornhill. Crowds of people beset his door, and when he shut upat three o'clock, he found that no less than one thousand shares had beensubscribed for, and the deposits paid. He was thus, in five hours, thewinner of 2000l. He was philosopher enough to be contented with hisventure, and set off the same evening for the Continent. He was neverheard of again. 

Well might Swift exclaim, comparing Change Alley to a gulf in the SouthSea:

 "Subscribers here by thousands float, And jostle one another down, Each paddling in his leaky boat, And here they fish for gold and drown. 

 Now buried in the depths below, Now mounted up to heaven again, They reel and stagger to and fro, At their wit's end, like drunken men. 

 Meantime, secure on Garraway cliffs, A savage race, by shipwrecks fed, Lie waiting for the foundered skiffs, And strip the bodies of the dead. "

Another fraud that was very successful was that of the "Globe _Permits_, "as they were called. They were nothing more than square pieces ofplaying-cards, on which was the impression of a seal, in wax, bearing thesign of the Globe Tavern, in the neighbourhood of Exchange Alley, with theinscription of "Sail-Cloth Permits. " The possessors enjoyed no otheradvantage from them than permission to subscribe at some future time to anew sail-cloth manufactory, projected by one who was then known to be aman of fortune, but who was afterwards involved in the peculation andpunishment of the South-Sea directors. These permits sold for as much assixty guineas in the Alley. 

Persons of distinction, of both sexes, were deeply engaged in all thesebubbles; those of the male sex going to taverns and coffee-houses to meettheir brokers, and the ladies resorting for the same purpose to the shopsof milliners and haberdashers. But it did not follow that all these peoplebelieved in the feasibility of the schemes to which they subscribed; itwas enough for their purpose that their shares would, by stock-jobbingarts, be soon raised to a premium, when they got rid of them with allexpedition to the really credulous. So great was the confusion of thecrowd in the alley, that shares in the same bubble were known to have beensold at the same instant ten per cent higher at one end of the alley thanat the other. Sensible men beheld the extraordinary infatuation of thepeople with sorrow and alarm. There were some both in and out ofparliament who foresaw clearly the ruin that was impending. Mr. Walpoledid not cease his gloomy forebodings. His fears were shared by all thethinking few, and impressed most forcibly upon the government. On the 11thof June, the day the parliament rose, the king published a proclamation, declaring that all these unlawful projects should be deemed publicnuisances, and prosecuted accordingly, and forbidding any broker, under apenalty of five hundred pounds, from buying or selling any shares in them. Notwithstanding this proclamation, roguish speculators still carried themon, and the deluded people still encouraged them. On the 12th of July, anorder of the Lords Justices assembled in privy council was published, dismissing all the petitions that had been presented for patents andcharters, and dissolving all the bubble companies. The following copy oftheir lordships' order, containing a list of all these nefarious projects, will not be deemed uninteresting at the present time, when, at periodicintervals, there is but too much tendency in the public mind to indulge insimilar practices:

 "At the Council Chamber, Whitehall, the 12th day of July, 1720. Present, their Excellencies the Lords Justices in Council. 

"Their Excellencies the Lords Justices, in council, taking intoconsideration the many inconveniences arising to the public from severalprojects set on foot for raising of joint-stock for various purposes, andthat a great many of his majesty's subjects have been drawn in to partwith their money on pretence of assurances that their petitions forpatents and charters to enable them to carry on the same would be granted:to prevent such impositions, their excellencies this day ordered the saidseveral petitions, together with such reports from the Board of Trade, andfrom his majesty's attorney and solicitor-general, as had been obtainedthereon, to be laid before them; and after mature consideration thereof, were pleased, by advice of his majesty's privy council, to order that thesaid petitions be dismissed, which are as follow:

"1. Petition of several persons, praying letters patent for carrying on afishing trade by the name of the Grand Fishery of Great Britain. 

"2. Petition of the Company of the Royal Fishery of England, prayingletters patent for such further powers as will effectually contribute tocarry on the said fishery. 

"3. Petition of George James, on behalf of himself and divers persons ofdistinction concerned in a national fishery, praying letters patent ofincorporation, to enable them to carry on the same. 

"4. Petition of several merchants, traders, and others, whose names arethereunto subscribed, praying to be incorporated for reviving and carryingon a whale fishery to Greenland and elsewhere. 

"5. Petition of Sir John Lambert and others thereto subscribing, on behalfof themselves and a great number of merchants, praying to be incorporatedfor carrying on a Greenland trade, and particularly a whale fishery inDavis's Straits. 

"6. Another petition for a Greenland trade. 

"7. Petition of several merchants, gentlemen, and citizens, praying to beincorporated for buying and building of ships to let or freight. 

"8. Petition of Samuel Antrim and others, praying for letters patent forsowing hemp and flax. 

"9. Petition of several merchants, masters of ships, sail-makers, andmanufacturers of sail-cloth, praying a charter of incorporation, to enablethem to carry on and promote the said manufactory by a joint-stock. 

"10. Petition of Thomas Boyd and several hundred merchants, owners andmasters of ships, sail-makers, weavers, and other traders, praying acharter of incorporation, empowering them to borrow money for purchasinglands, in order to the manufacturing sail-cloth and fine holland. 

"11. Petition on behalf of several persons interested in a patent grantedby the late King William and Queen Mary for the making of linen andsail-cloth, praying that no charter may be granted to any personswhatsoever for making sail-cloth, but that the privilege now enjoyed bythem may be confirmed, and likewise an additional power to carry on thecotton and cotton-silk manufactures. 

"12. Petition of several citizens, merchants, and traders in London, andothers, subscribers to a British stock for a general insurance from firein any part of England, praying to be incorporated for carrying on thesaid undertaking. 

"13. Petition of several of his majesty's loyal subjects of the city ofLondon and other parts of Great Britain, praying to be incorporated forcarrying on a general insurance from losses by fire within the kingdom ofEngland. 

"14. Petition of Thomas Surges and others his majesty's subjects theretosubscribing, in behalf of themselves and others, subscribers to a fund of1, 200, 000l. For carrying on a trade to his majesty's German dominions, praying to be incorporated by the name of the Harburg Company. 

"15. Petition of Edward Jones, a dealer in timber, on behalf of himselfand others, praying to be incorporated for the importation of timber fromGermany. 

"16. Petition of several merchants of London, praying a charter ofincorporation for carrying on a salt-work. 

"17. Petition of Captain Macphedris of London, merchant, on behalf ofhimself and several merchants, clothiers, hatters, dyers, and othertraders, praying a charter of incorporation empowering them to raise asufficient sum of money to purchase lands for planting and rearing a woodcalled madder, for the use of dyers. 

"18. Petition of Joseph Galendo of London, snuff-maker, praying a patentfor his invention to prepare and cure Virginia tobacco for snuff inVirginia, and making it into the same in all his majesty's dominions. "

LIST OF BUBBLES. 

The following Bubble-Companies were by the same order declared to beillegal, and abolished accordingly:

1. For the importation of Swedish iron. 

2. For supplying London with sea-coal. Capital, three millions. 

3. For building and rebuilding houses throughout all England Capital, three millions. 

4. For making of muslin. 

5. For carrying on and improving the British alum-works. 

6. For effectually settling the island of Blanco and Sal Tartagus. 

7. For supplying the town of Deal with fresh water. 

8. For the importation of Flanders lace. 

9. For improvement of lands in Great Britain. Capital, four millions. 

10. For encouraging the breed of horses in England, and improving of glebeand church lands, and for repairing and rebuilding parsonage and vicaragehouses. 

11. For making of iron and steel in Great Britain, 12. For improving the land in the county of Flint. Capital, one million. 

13. For purchasing lands to build on. Capital, two millions. 

14. For trading in hair. 

15. For erecting salt-works in Holy Island. Capital, two millions. 

16. For buying and selling estates, and lending money on mortgage. 

17. For carrying on an undertaking of great advantage; but nobody to knowwhat it is. 

18. For paving the streets of London. Capital, two millions. 

19. For furnishing funerals to any part of Great Britain. 

20. For buying and selling lands and lending money at interest. Capital, five millions. 

21. For carrying on the royal fishery of Great Britain. Capital, tenmillions. 

22. For assuring of seamen's wages. 

23. For erecting loan-offices for the assistance and encouragement of theindustrious. Capital, two millions. 

24. For purchasing and improving leaseable lands. Capital, four millions. 

25. For importing pitch and tar, and other naval stores, from NorthBritain and America. 

26. For the clothing, felt, and pantile trade. 

27. For purchasing and improving a manor and royalty in Essex. 

28. For insuring of horses. Capital, two millions. 

29. For exporting the woollen manufacture, and importing copper, brass, and iron. Capital, four millions. 

30. For a grand dispensary. Capital, three millions. 

31. For erecting mills and purchasing lead-mines. Capital, two millions. 

32. For improving the art of making soap. 

33. For a settlement on the island of Santa Cruz. 

34. For sinking pits and smelting lead ore in Derbyshire. 

35. For making glass bottles and other glass. 

36. For a wheel for perpetual motion. Capital, one million. 

37. For improving of gardens. 

38. For insuring and increasing children's fortunes. 

39. For entering and loading goods at the Custom-house, and fornegotiating business for merchants. 

40. For carrying on a woollen manufacture in the North of England. 

41. For importing walnut-trees from Virginia, Capital, two millions. 

42. For making Manchester stuffs of thread and cotton. 

43. For making Joppa and Castile soap. 

44. For improving the wrought-iron and steel manufactures of this kingdom. Capital four millions. 

45. For dealing in lace, hollands, cambrics, lawns, &c. Capital, twomillions. 

46. For trading in and improving certain commodities of the produce ofthis kingdom, &c. Capital three millions. 

47. For supplying the London markets with cattle. 

48. For making looking-glasses, coach-glasses, &c. Capital, two millions. 

49. For working the tin and lead mines in Cornwall and Derbyshire. 

50. For making rape-oil. 

51. For importing beaver fur. Capital, two millions. 

52. For making pasteboard and packing-paper. 

53. For importing of oils and other materials used in the woollenmanufacture. 

54. For improving and increasing the silk manufactures. 

55. For lending money on stock, annuities, tallies, &c. 

56. For paying pensions to widows and others, at a small discount. Capital, two millions. 

57. For improving malt liquors. Capital, four millions. 

58. For a grand American fishery. 

59. For purchasing and improving the fenny lands in Lincolnshire. Capital, two millions. 

60. For improving the paper manufacture of Great Britain. 

61. The Bottomry Company. 

62. For drying malt by hot air. 

63. For carrying on a trade in the river Oronooko. 

64. For the more effectual making of baize, in Colchester and other partsof Great Britain. 

65. For buying of naval stores, supplying the victualling, and paying thewages of the workmen. 

66. For employing poor artificers, and furnishing merchants and otherswith watches. 

67. For improvement of tillage and the breed of cattle. 

68. Another for the improvement of our breed in horses. 

69. Another for a horse-insurance. 

70. For carrying on the corn trade of Great Britain. 

71. For insuring to all masters and mistresses the losses they may sustainby servants. Capital, three millions. 

72. For erecting houses or hospitals for taking in and maintainingillegitimate children. Capital, two millions. 

73. For bleaching coarse sugars, without the use of fire or loss ofsubstance. 

74. For building turnpikes and wharfs in Great Britain. 

75. For insuring from thefts and robberies. 

76. For extracting silver from lead. 

77. For making china and delft ware. Capital, one million. 

78. For importing tobacco, and exporting it again to Sweden and the northof Europe. Capital, four millions. 

79. For making iron with pit coal. 

80. For furnishing the cities of London and Westminster with hay andstraw. Capital, three millions. 

81. For a sail and packing-cloth manufactory in Ireland. 

82. For taking up ballast. 

83. For buying and fitting out ships to suppress pirates. 

84. For the importation of timber from Wales. Capital, two millions. 

85. For rock-salt. 

86. For the transmutation of quicksilver into a malleable fine metal. 

[Illustration: CHANGE-ALLEY. [18]]

 [18] Stock-jobbing Card, or the humours of Change Alley. Copied from a print called _Bubblers' Medley_, published by Carrington Bowles. 

Besides these bubbles, many others sprang up daily, in-spite of thecondemnation of the government and the ridicule of the still sane portionof the public. The print-shops teemed with caricatures, and the newspaperswith epigrams and satires, upon the prevalent folly. An ingeniouscardmaker published a pack of South-Sea playing-cards, which are nowextremely rare, each card containing, besides the usual figures, of a verysmall size, in one corner, a caricature of a bubble-company, withappropriate verses underneath. One of the most famous bubbles was"Puckle's Machine Company, " for discharging round and square cannon-ballsand bullets, and making a total revolution in the art of war. Itspretensions to public favour were thus summed up on the eight of spades:

 "A rare invention to destroy the crowd Of fools at home instead of fools abroad. Fear not, my friends, this terrible machine, They're only wounded who have shares therein. "

[Illustration: TREE CARICATURE[19]]

 [19] Tree, surrounded by water; people climbing up the tree. One of a series of bubble cards, copied from the _Bubblers' Medley_, published by Carrington Bowles. 

The nine of hearts was a caricature of the English Copper and BrassCompany, with the following epigram:

 "The headlong-fool that wants to be a swopper Of gold and silver coin for English copper, May, in Change Alley, prove himself an ass, And give rich metal for adultrate brass. "

The eight of diamonds celebrated the company for the colonisation ofAcadia, with this doggrel:

 "He that is rich and wants to fool away A good round sum in North America, Let him subscribe himself a headlong sharer, And asses' ears shall honour him or bearer. "

And in a similar style every card of the pack exposed some knavish scheme, and ridiculed the persons who were its dupes. It was computed that thetotal amount of the sums proposed for carrying on these projects wasupwards of three hundred millions sterling. 

[Illustration: MERCHANT'S GATEWAY]

It is time, however, to return to the great South-Sea gulf, that swallowedthe fortunes of so many thousands of the avaricious and the credulous. Onthe 29th of May, the stock had risen as high as five hundred, and abouttwo-thirds of the government annuitants had exchanged the securities ofthe state for those of the South-Sea company. During the whole of themonth of May the stock continued to rise, and on the 28th it was quoted atfive hundred and fifty. In four days after this it took a prodigious leap, rising suddenly from five hundred and fifty to eight hundred and ninety. It was now the general opinion that the stock could rise no higher, andmany persons took that opportunity of selling out, with a view ofrealising their profits. Many noblemen and persons in the train of theking, and about to accompany him to Hanover, were also anxious to sellout. So many sellers, and so few buyers, appeared in the Alley on the 3dof June, that the stock fell at once from eight hundred and ninety to sixhundred and forty. The directors were alarmed, and gave their agentsorders to buy. Their efforts succeeded. Towards evening, confidence wasrestored, and the stock advanced to seven hundred and fifty. It continuedat this price, with some slight fluctuation, until the company closedtheir books on the 22d of June. 

It would be needless and uninteresting to detail the various arts employedby the directors to keep up the price of stock. It will be sufficient tostate that it finally rose to one thousand per cent. It was quoted at thisprice in, the commencement of August. The bubble was then full-blown, andbegan to quiver and shake preparatory to its bursting. 

Many of the government, annuitants expressed dissatisfaction against thedirectors. They accused them of partiality in making out the lists forshares in each subscription. Further uneasiness was occasioned by itsbeing generally known that Sir John Blunt the chairman, and some others, had sold out. During the whole of the month of August the stock fell, andon the 2d of September it was quoted at seven hundred only. 

The state of things now became alarming. To prevent, if possible, theutter extinction of public confidence in their proceedings, the directorssummoned a general court of the whole corporation, to meet in MerchantTailors' Hall on the 8th of September. By nine o'clock in the morning, theroom was filled to suffocation; Cheapside was blocked up by a crowd unableto gain admittance, and the greatest excitement prevailed. The directorsand their friends mustered in great numbers. Sir John Fellowes, thesub-governor, was called to the chair. He acquainted the assembly with thecause of their meeting; read to them the several resolutions of the courtof directors, and gave them an account of their proceedings; of the takingin the redeemable and unredeemable funds, and of the subscriptions inmoney. Mr. Secretary Craggs then made a short speech, wherein he commendedthe conduct of the directors, and urged that nothing could moreeffectually contribute to the bringing this scheme to perfection thanunion among themselves. He concluded with a motion for thanking the courtof directors for their prudent and skilful management, and for desiringthem to proceed in such manner as they should think most proper for theinterest and advantage of the corporation. Mr. Hungerford, who hadrendered himself very conspicuous in the House of Commons for his zeal inbehalf of the South-Sea company, and who was shrewdly suspected to havebeen a considerable gainer by knowing the right time to sell out, was verymagniloquent on this occasion. He said that he had seen the rise and fall, the decay and resurrection of many communities of this nature, but that, in his opinion, none had ever performed such wonderful things in so shorta time as the South-Sea company. They had done more than the crown, thepulpit, or the bench could do. They had reconciled all parties in onecommon interest; they had laid asleep, if not wholly extinguished, all thedomestic jars and animosities of the nation. By the rise of their stock, monied men had vastly increased their fortunes; country gentlemen had seenthe value of their lands doubled and trebled in their hands. They had atthe same time done good to the Church, not a few of the reverend clergyhaving got great sums by the project. In short, they had enriched thewhole nation, and he hoped they had not forgotten themselves. There wassome hissing at the latter part of this speech, which for the extravaganceof its eulogy was not far removed from satire; but the directors and theirfriends, and all the winners in the room, applauded vehemently. The Dukeof Portland spoke in a similar strain, and expressed his great wonder whyany body should be dissatisfied; of course, he was a winner by hisspeculations, and in a condition similar to that of the fat alderman in_Joe Miller's Jests_, who, whenever he had eaten a good dinner, folded hishands upon his paunch, and expressed his doubts whether there could be ahungry man in the world. 

[Illustration: MR. SECRETARY CRAGGS. ]

Several resolutions were passed at this meeting, but they had no effectupon the public. Upon the very same evening the stock fell to six hundredand forty, and on the morrow to five hundred and forty. Day after day itcontinued to fall, until it was as low as four hundred. In a letter datedSeptember 13th, from Mr. Broderick, M. P. , to Lord Chancellor Middleton, and published in Coxe's _Walpole_, the former says: "Various are theconjectures why the South-Sea directors have suffered the cloud to breakso early. I made no doubt but they would do so when they found it to theiradvantage. They have stretched credit so far beyond what it would bear, that specie proves insufficient to support it. Their most considerable menhave drawn out, securing themselves by the losses of the deluded, thoughtless numbers, whose understandings have been overruled by avariceand the hope of making mountains out of mole-hills. Thousands of familieswill be reduced to beggary. The consternation is inexpressible--the ragebeyond description, and the case altogether so desperate, that I do notsee any plan or scheme so much as thought of for averting the blow, sothat I cannot pretend to guess what is next to be done. " Ten daysafterwards, the stock still falling, he writes: "The company have yet cometo no determination, for they are in such a wood that they know not whichway to turn. By several gentlemen lately come to town, I perceive the veryname of a South-Sea-man grows abominable in every country. A great manygoldsmiths are already run off, and more will daily. I question whetherone-third, nay, one-fourth of them can stand it. From the very beginning, I founded my judgment of the whole affair upon the unquestionable maxim, that ten millions (which is more than our running cash) could notcirculate two hundred millions, beyond which our paper credit extended. That, therefore, whenever that should become doubtful, be the cause whatit would, our noble state machine must inevitably fall to the ground. "

On the 12th of September, at the earnest solicitation of Mr. SecretaryCraggs, several conferences were held between the directors of the SouthSea and the directors of the Bank. A report which was circulated, that thelatter had agreed to circulate six millions of the South-Sea company'sbonds, caused the stock to rise to six hundred and seventy; but in theafternoon, as soon as the report was known to be groundless, the stockfell again to five hundred and eighty; the next day to five hundred andseventy, and so gradually to four hundred. [20]

 [20] Gay (the poet), in that disastrous year, had a present from young Craggs of some South-Sea stock, and once supposed himself to be master of twenty thousand pounds. His friends persuaded him to sell his share, but he dreamed of dignity and splendour, and could not hear to obstruct his own fortune. He was then importuned to sell as much as would purchase a hundred a year for life, "which, " says Fenton, "will make you sure of a clean shirt and a shoulder of mutton every day. " This counsel was rejected; the profit and principal were lost, and Gay sunk under the calamity so low that his life became in danger. --_Johnson's Lives of the Poets_

The ministry were seriously alarmed at the aspect of affairs. Thedirectors could not appear in the streets without being insulted;dangerous riots were every moment apprehended. Despatches were sent off tothe king at Hanover, praying his immediate return. Mr. Walpole, who wasstaying at his country seat, was sent for, that he might employ his knowninfluence with the directors of the Bank of England to induce them toaccept the proposal made by the South-Sea company for circulating a numberof their bonds. 

The Bank was very unwilling to mix itself up with the affairs of thecompany; it dreaded being involved in calamities which it could notrelieve, and received all overtures with visible reluctance. But theuniversal voice of the nation called upon it to come to the rescue. Everyperson of note in commercial politics was called in to advise in theemergency. A rough draft of a contract drawn up by Mr. Walpole wasultimately adopted as the basis of further negotiations, and the publicalarm abated a little. 

On the following day, the 20th of September, a general court of theSouth-Sea company was held at Merchant Tailors' Hall, in which resolutionswere carried, empowering the directors to agree with the Bank of England, or any other persons, to circulate the company's bonds, or make any otheragreement with the Bank which they should think proper. One of thespeakers, a Mr. Pulteney, said it was most surprising to see theextraordinary panic which had seized upon the people. Men were running toand fro in alarm and terror, their imaginations filled with some greatcalamity, the form and dimensions of which nobody knew:

 "Black it stood as night-- Fierce as ten furies--terrible as hell. "

At a general court of the Bank of England held two days afterwards, thegovernor informed them of the several meetings that had been held on theaffairs of the South-Sea company, adding that the directors had not yetthought fit to come to any decision upon the matter. A resolution was thenproposed, and carried without a dissentient voice, empowering thedirectors to agree with those of the South Sea to circulate their bonds, to what sum, and upon what terms, and for what time, they might thinkproper. 

Thus both parties were at liberty to act as they might judge best for thepublic interest. Books were opened at the Bank for a subscription of threemillions for the support of public credit, on the usual terms of 15l. Percent deposit, 3l. Per cent premium, and 5l. Per cent interest. So greatwas the concourse of people in the early part of the morning, all eagerlybringing their money, that it was thought the subscription would be filledthat day; but before noon, the tide turned. In spite of all that could bedone to prevent it, the South-Sea company's stock fell rapidly. Theirbonds were in such discredit, that a run commenced upon the most eminentgoldsmiths and bankers, some of whom, having lent out great sums uponSouth-Sea stock, were obliged to shut up their shops and abscond. TheSword-blade company, who had hitherto been the chief cashiers of theSouth-Sea company, stopped payment. This being looked upon as but thebeginning of evil, occasioned a great run upon the Bank, who were nowobliged to pay out money much faster than they had received it upon thesubscription in the morning. The day succeeding was a holiday (the 29th ofSeptember), and the Bank had a little breathing time. They bore up againstthe storm; but their former rivals, the South-Sea company, were wreckedupon it. Their stock fell to one hundred and fifty, and gradually, aftervarious fluctuations, to one hundred and thirty-five. 

The Bank, finding they were not able to restore public confidence, andstem the tide of ruin, without running the risk of being swept away withthose they intended to save, declined to carry out the agreement intowhich they had partially entered. They were under no obligation whateverto continue; for the so-called Bank contract was nothing more than therough draught of an agreement, in which blanks had been left for severalimportant particulars, and which contained no penalty for their secession. "And thus, " to use the words of the Parliamentary History, "were seen, inthe space of eight months, the rise, progress, and fall of that mightyfabric, which, being wound up by mysterious springs to a wonderful height, had fixed the eyes and expectations of all Europe, but whose foundation, being fraud, illusion, credulity, and infatuation, fell to the ground assoon as the artful management of its directors was discovered. "

In the hey-day of its blood, during the progress of this dangerousdelusion, the manners of the nation became sensibly corrupted. Theparliamentary inquiry, set on foot to discover the delinquents, disclosedscenes of infamy, disgraceful alike to the morals of the offenders and theintellects of the people among whom they had arisen. It is a deeplyinteresting study to investigate all the evils that were the result. Nations, like individuals, cannot become desperate gamblers with impunity. Punishment is sure to overtake them sooner or later. A celebratedwriter[21] is quite wrong when he says, "that such an era as this is themost unfavourable for a historian; that no reader of sentiment andimagination can be entertained or interested by a detail of transactionssuch as these, which admit of no warmth, no colouring, no embellishment; adetail of which only serves to exhibit an inanimate picture of tastelessvice and mean degeneracy. " On the contrary, --and Smollett might havediscovered it, if he had been in the humour, --the subject is capable ofinspiring as much interest as even a novellist can desire. Is there nowarmth in the despair of a plundered people?--no life and animation in thepicture which might be drawn of the woes of hundreds of impoverished andruined families? of the wealthy of yesterday become the beggars of to-day?of the powerful and influential changed into exiles and outcasts, and thevoice of self-reproach and imprecation resounding from every corner of theland? Is it a dull or uninstructive picture to see a whole people shakingsuddenly off the trammels of reason, and running wild after a goldenvision, refusing obstinately to believe that it is not real, till, like adeluded hind running after an _ignis fatuus_, they are plunged into aquagmire? But in this false spirit has history too often been written. Theintrigues of unworthy courtiers to gain the favour of still more unworthykings, or the records of murderous battles and sieges, have been dilatedon, and told over and over again, with all the eloquence of style and allthe charms of fancy; while the circumstances which have most deeplyaffected the morals and welfare of the people have been passed over withbut slight notice, as dry and dull, and capable of neither warmth norcolouring. 

 [21] Smollett. 

[Illustration: CARICATURE. [22]]

 [22] Caricature, copied from _Bubblers' Medley_, published by Carrington Bowles. 

During the progress of this famous bubble, England presented a singularspectacle. The public mind was in a state of unwholesome fermentation. Menwere no longer satisfied with the slow but sure profits of cautiousindustry. The hope of boundless wealth for the morrow made them heedlessand extravagant for to-day. A luxury, till then unheard-of, wasintroduced, bringing in its train a corresponding laxity of morals. Theover-bearing insolence of ignorant men, who had arisen to sudden wealth bysuccessful gambling, made men of true gentility of mind and manners blushthat gold should have power to raise the unworthy in the scale of society. The haughtiness of some of these "cyphering cits, " as they were termed bySir Richard Steele, was remembered against them in the day of theiradversity. In the parliamentary inquiry, many of the directors sufferedmore for their insolence than for their peculation. One of them, who, inthe full-blown pride of an ignorant rich man, had said that he would feedhis horse upon gold, was reduced almost to bread and water for himself;every haughty look, every overbearing speech, was set down, and repaidthem a hundredfold in poverty and humiliation. 

The state of matters all over the country was so alarming, that George I. Shortened his intended stay in Hanover, and returned in all haste toEngland. He arrived on the 11th of November, and parliament was summonedto meet on the 8th of December. In the mean time, public meetings wereheld in every considerable town of the empire, at which petitions wereadopted, praying the vengeance of the legislature upon the South-Seadirectors, who, by their fraudulent practices, had brought the nation tothe brink of ruin. Nobody seemed to imagine that the nation itself was asculpable as the South-Sea company. Nobody blamed the credulity and avariceof the people, --the degrading lust of gain, which had swallowed up everynobler quality in the national character, or the infatuation which hadmade the multitude run their heads with such frantic eagerness into thenet held out for them by scheming projectors. These things were nevermentioned. The people were a simple, honest, hard-working people, ruinedby a gang of robbers, who were to be hanged, drawn, and quartered withoutmercy. 

This was the almost unanimous feeling of the country. The two Houses ofParliament were not more reasonable. Before the guilt of the South-Seadirectors was known, punishment was the only cry. The king, in his speechfrom the throne, expressed his hope that they would remember that alltheir prudence, temper, and resolution were necessary to find out andapply the proper remedy for their misfortunes. In the debate on the answerto the address, several speakers indulged in the most violent invectivesagainst the directors of the South-Sea project. The Lord Molesworth wasparticularly vehement. "It had been said by some, that there was no law topunish the directors of the South-Sea company, who were justly looked uponas the authors of the present misfortunes of the state. In his opinion, they ought upon this occasion to follow the example of the ancient Romans, who, having no law against parricide, because their legislators supposedno son could be so unnaturally wicked as to embrue his hands in hisfather's blood, made a law to punish this heinous crime as soon as it wascommitted. They adjudged the guilty wretch to be sown in a sack, andthrown alive into the Tiber. He looked upon the contrivers and executorsof the villanous South-Sea scheme as the parricides of their country, andshould be satisfied to see them tied in like manner in sacks, and throwninto the Thames. " Other members spoke with as much want of temper anddiscretion. Mr. Walpole was more moderate. He recommended that their firstcare should be to restore public credit. "If the city of London were onfire, all wise men would aid in extinguishing the flames, and preventingthe spread of the conflagration, before they inquired after the incendiaries. Public credit had received a dangerous wound, and lay bleeding, and theyought to apply a speedy remedy to it. It was time enough to punish theassassin afterwards. " On the 9th of December an address, in answer to hismajesty's speech, was agreed upon, after an amendment, which was carriedwithout a division, that words should be added expressive of thedetermination of the house not only to seek a remedy for the nationaldistresses, but to punish the authors of them. 

[Illustration: BRITANNIA STRIPT BY A SOUTH-SEA DIRECTOR. [23]]

 [23] Britannia stript by a South-Sea Director. From _Het groote Tafereel der Dwaasheid_. 

The inquiry proceeded rapidly. The directors were ordered to lay beforethe house a full account of all their proceedings. Resolutions were passedto the effect that the calamity was mainly owing to the vile arts ofstock-jobbers, and that nothing could tend more to the reestablishment ofpublic credit than a law to prevent this infamous practice. Mr. Walpolethen rose, and said, that "as he had previously hinted, he had spent sometime upon a scheme for restoring public credit, but that the execution ofit depending upon a position which had been laid down as fundamental, hethought it proper, before he opened out his scheme, to be informed whetherhe might rely upon that foundation. It was, whether the subscription ofpublic debts and encumbrances, money subscriptions, and other contracts, made with the South-Sea company, should remain in the present state?" Thisquestion occasioned an animated debate. It was finally agreed, by amajority of 259 against 117, that all these contracts should remain intheir present state, unless altered for the relief of the proprietors by ageneral court of the South-Sea company, or set aside by due course of law. On the following day, Mr. Walpole laid before a committee of the wholehouse his scheme for the restoration of public credit, which was, insubstance, to engraft nine millions of South-Sea stock into the Bank ofEngland, and the same sum into the East India company, upon certainconditions. The plan was favourably received by the house. After some fewobjections, it was ordered that proposals should be received from the twogreat corporations. They were both unwilling to lend their aid, and theplan met with a warm but fruitless opposition at the general courtssummoned for the purpose of deliberating upon it. They, however, ultimately agreed upon the terms on which they would consent to circulatethe South-Sea bonds, and their report being presented to the committee, abill was brought in under the superintendence of Mr. Walpole, and safelycarried through both Houses of Parliament. 

A bill was at the same time brought in for restraining the South-Seadirectors, governor, sub-governor, treasurer, cashier, and clerks fromleaving the kingdom for a twelvemonth, and for discovering their estatesand effects, and preventing them from transporting or alienating the same. All the most influential members of the House supported the bill. Mr. Shippen, seeing Mr. Secretary Craggs in his place, and believing theinjurious rumours that were afloat of that minister's conduct in theSouth-Sea business, determined to touch him to the quick. He said, he wasglad to see a British House of Commons resuming its pristine vigour andspirit, and acting with so much unanimity for the public good. It wasnecessary to secure the persons and estates of the South-Sea directors andtheir officers; "but, " he added, looking fixedly at Mr. Craggs as hespoke, "there were other men in high station, whom, in time, he would notbe afraid to name, who were no less guilty than the directors. " Mr. Craggsarose in great wrath, and said, that if the innuendo were directed againsthim, he was ready to give satisfaction to any man who questioned him, either in the House or out of it. Loud cries of order immediately arose onevery side. In the midst of the uproar, Lord Molesworth got up, andexpressed his wonder at the boldness of Mr. Craggs in challenging thewhole House of Commons. He, Lord Molesworth, though somewhat old, pastsixty, would answer Mr. Craggs whatever he had to say in the House, and hetrusted there were plenty of young men beside him, who would not be afraidto look Mr. Craggs in the face out of the House. The cries of order againresounded from every side; the members arose simultaneously; every bodyseemed to be vociferating at once. The speaker in vain called order. Theconfusion lasted several minutes, during which Lord Molesworth and Mr. Craggs were almost the only members who kept their seats. At last, thecall for Mr. Craggs became so violent, that he thought proper to submit tothe universal feeling of the House, and explain his unparliamentaryexpression. He said, that by giving satisfaction to the impugners of hisconduct in that House, he did not mean that he would fight, but that hewould explain his conduct. Here the matter ended, and the House proceededto debate in what manner they should conduct their inquiry into theaffairs of the South-Sea company, whether in a grand or a selectcommittee. Ultimately, a secret committee of thirteen was appointed, withpower to send for persons, papers, and records. 

The Lords were as zealous and as hasty as the Commons. The Bishop ofRochester said the scheme had been like a pestilence. The Duke of Whartonsaid the House ought to shew no respect of persons; that, for his part, hewould give up the dearest friend he had, if he had been engaged in theproject. The nation had been plundered in a most shameful and flagrantmanner, and he would go as far as any body in the punishment of theoffenders. Lord Stanhope said, that every farthing possessed by thecriminals, whether directors or not directors, ought to be confiscated, tomake good the public losses. 

During all this time the public excitement was extreme. We learn fromCoxe's _Walpole_, that the very name of a South-Sea director was thoughtto be synonymous with every species of fraud and villany. Petitions fromcounties, cities, and boroughs, in all parts of the kingdom, werepresented, crying for the justice due to an injured nation and thepunishment of the villanous peculators. Those moderate men, who would notgo to extreme lengths, even in the punishment of the guilty, were accusedof being accomplices, were exposed to repeated insults and virulentinvectives, and devoted, both in anonymous letters and public writings, tothe speedy vengeance of an injured people. The accusations against Mr. Aislabie, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Mr. Craggs, another member ofthe ministry, were so loud, that the House of Lords resolved to proceed atonce into the investigation concerning them. It was ordered, on the 21stof January, that all brokers concerned in the South-Sea scheme should laybefore the House an account of the stock or subscriptions bought or soldby them for any of the officers of the Treasury or Exchequer, or in trustfor any of them, since Michaelmas 1719. When this account was delivered, it appeared that large quantities of stock had been transferred to the useof Mr. Aislabie. Five of the South-Sea directors, including Mr. EdwardGibbon, the grandfather of the celebrated historian, were ordered into thecustody of the black rod. Upon a motion made by Earl Stanhope, it wasunanimously resolved, that the taking in or giving credit for stockwithout a valuable consideration actually paid or sufficiently secured; orthe purchasing stock by any director or agent of the South-Sea company, for the use or benefit of any member of the administration, or any memberof either House of Parliament, during such time as the South-Sea bill wasyet pending in parliament, was a notorious and dangerous corruption. Another resolution was passed a few days afterwards, to the effect thatseveral of the directors and officers of the company having, in aclandestine manner, sold their own stock to the company, had been guiltyof a notorious fraud and breach of trust, and had thereby mainly causedthe unhappy turn of affairs that had so much affected public credit. Mr. Aislabie resigned his office as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and absentedhimself from parliament, until the formal inquiry into his individualguilt was brought under the consideration of the legislature. 

In the mean time, Knight, the treasurer of the company, and who wasentrusted with all the dangerous secrets of the dishonest directors, packed up his books and documents, and made his escape from the country. He embarked in disguise, in a small boat on the river, and proceeding to avessel hired for the purpose, was safely conveyed to Calais. The Committeeof Secrecy informed the House of the circumstance, when it was resolvedunanimously that two addresses should be presented to the king; the firstpraying that he would issue a proclamation offering a reward for theapprehension of Knight; and the second, that he would give immediateorders to stop the ports, and to take effectual care of the coasts, toprevent the said Knight, or any other officers of the South-Sea company, from escaping out of the kingdom. The ink was hardly dry upon theseaddresses before they were carried to the king by Mr. Methuen, deputed bythe House for that purpose. The same evening a royal proclamation wasissued, offering a reward of two thousand pounds for the apprehension ofKnight. The Commons ordered the doors of the House to be locked, and thekeys to be placed on the table. General Ross, one of the members of theCommittee of Secrecy, acquainted them that they had already discovered atrain of the deepest villany and fraud that hell had ever contrived toruin a nation, which in due time they would lay before the House. In themean time, in order to a further discovery, the Committee thought ithighly necessary to secure the persons of some of the directors andprincipal South-Sea officers, and to seize their papers. A motion to thiseffect having been made, was carried unanimously. Sir Robert Chaplin, SirTheodore Janssen, Mr. Sawbridge, and Mr. F. Eyles, members of the House, and directors of the South-Sea company, were summoned to appear in theirplaces, and answer for their corrupt practices. Sir Theodore Janssen andMr. Sawbridge answered to their names, and endeavoured to exculpatethemselves. The House heard them patiently, and then ordered them towithdraw. A motion was then made, and carried _nemine contradicente_, thatthey had been guilty of a notorious breach of trust--had occasioned muchloss to great numbers of his majesty's subjects, and had highly prejudicedthe public credit. It was then ordered that, for their offence, theyshould be expelled the House, and taken into the custody of thesergeant-at-arms. Sir Robert Chaplin and Mr. Eyles, attending in theirplaces four days afterwards, were also expelled the House. It was resolvedat the same time to address the king to give directions to his ministersat foreign courts to make application for Knight, that he might bedelivered up to the English authorities, in case he took refuge in any oftheir dominions. The king at once agreed, and messengers were despatchedto all parts of the continent the same night. 

Among the directors taken into custody was Sir John Blunt, the man whompopular opinion has generally accused of having been the original authorand father of the scheme. This man, we are informed by Pope, in hisepistle to Allen Lord Bathurst, was a dissenter, of a most religiousdeportment, and professed to be a great believer. [24] He constantlydeclaimed against the luxury and corruption of the age, the partiality ofparliaments, and the misery of party spirit. He was particularly eloquentagainst avarice in great and noble persons. He was originally a scrivener, and afterwards became, not only a director, but the most active manager ofthe South-Sea company. Whether it was during his career in this capacitythat he first began to declaim against the avarice of the great, we arenot informed. He certainly must have seen enough of it to justify hisseverest anathema; but if the preacher had himself been free from the vicehe condemned, his declamations would have had a better effect. He wasbrought up in custody to the bar of the House of Lords, and underwent along examination. He refused to answer several important questions. Hesaid he had been examined already by a committee of the House of Commons, and as he did not remember his answers, and might contradict himself, herefused to answer before another tribunal. This declaration, in itself anindirect proof of guilt, occasioned some commotion in the House. He wasagain asked peremptorily whether he had ever sold any portion of the stockto any member of the administration, or any member of either House ofParliament, to facilitate the passing of the bill. He again declined toanswer. He was anxious, he said, to treat the House with all possiblerespect, but he thought it hard to be compelled to accuse himself. Afterseveral ineffectual attempts to refresh his memory, he was directed towithdraw. A violent discussion ensued between the friends and opponents ofthe ministry. It was asserted that the administration were no strangers tothe convenient taciturnity of Sir John Blunt. The Duke of Wharton made areflection upon the Earl Stanhope, which the latter warmly resented. Hespoke under great excitement, and with such vehemence as to cause a suddendetermination of blood to the head. He felt himself so ill that he wasobliged to leave the House and retire to his chamber. He was cuppedimmediately, and also let blood on the following morning, but with slightrelief. The fatal result was not anticipated. Towards evening he becamedrowsy, and turning himself on his face, expired. The sudden death of thisstatesman caused great grief to the nation. George I. Was exceedinglyaffected, and shut himself up for some hours in his closet, inconsolablefor his loss. 

 [24] "'God cannot love, ' says Blunt, with tearless eyes, 'The wretch he starves, and piously denies. ' . . . Much-injur'd Blunt! why bears he Britain's hate? A wizard told him in these words our fate: 'At length corruption, like a gen'ral flood, So long by watchful ministers withstood, Shall deluge all; and av'rice, creeping on, Spread like a low-born mist, and blot the sun; Statesman and patriot ply alike the stocks, Peeress and butler share alike the box, And judges job, and bishops bite the Town, And mighty dukes pack cards for half-a-crown: See Britain sunk in Lucre's forbid charms, And France reveng'd of Ann's and Edward's arms!' 'Twas no court-badge, great Scriv'ner! fir'd thy brain, Nor lordly luxury, nor city gain: No, 'twas thy righteous end, asham'd to see Senates degen'rate, patriots disagree, And nobly wishing party-rage to cease, To buy both sides, and give thy country peace. " _Pope's Epistle to Allen Lord Bathurst_. 

Knight, the treasurer of the company, was apprehended at Tirlemont, nearLiege, by one of the secretaries of Mr. Leathes, the British resident atBrussels, and lodged in the citadel of Antwerp. Repeated applications weremade to the court of Austria to deliver him up, but in vain. Knight threwhimself upon the protection of the states of Brabant, and demanded to betried in that country. It was a privilege granted to the states of Brabantby one of the articles of the _Joyeuse Entrée_, that every criminalapprehended in that country should be tried in that country. The statesinsisted on their privilege, and refused to deliver Knight to the Britishauthorities. The latter did not cease their solicitations; but in the meantime, Knight escaped from the citadel. 

[Illustration: BRABANT SCREEN. [25]]

 [25] The Brabant Screen. This caricature represents the Duchess of Kendal behind the "Brabant Screen, " supplying Mr. Knight with money to facilitate his escape; and is copied from a rare print of the time, in the collection of E. Hawkins, Esq. F. S. A. 

On the 16th of February the Committee of Secrecy made their first reportto the House. They stated that their inquiry had been attended withnumerous difficulties and embarrassments; every one they had examined hadendeavoured, as far as in him lay, to defeat the ends of justice. In someof the books produced before them, false and fictitious entries had beenmade; in others, there were entries of money with blanks for the name ofthe stockholders. There were frequent erasures and alterations, and insome of the books leaves were torn out. They also found that some books ofgreat importance had been destroyed altogether, and that some had beentaken away or secreted. At the very entrance into their inquiry, they hadobserved that the matters referred to them were of great variety andextent. Many persons had been entrusted with various parts in theexecution of the law, and under colour thereof had acted in anunwarrantable manner, in disposing of the properties of many thousands ofpersons amounting to many millions of money. They discovered that, beforethe South-Sea Act was passed, there was an entry in the company's books ofthe sum of 1, 259, 325l. , upon account of stock stated to have been sold tothe amount of 574, 500l. This stock was all fictitious, and had beendisposed of with a view to promote the passing of the bill. It was notedas sold on various days, and at various prices, from 150 to 325 per cent. Being surprised to see so large an account disposed of at a time when thecompany were not empowered to increase their capital, the Committeedetermined to investigate most carefully the whole transaction. Thegovernor, sub-governor, and several directors were brought before them, and examined rigidly. They found that, at the time these entries weremade, the company was not in possession of such a quantity of stock, having in their own right only a small quantity, not exceeding thirtythousand pounds at the utmost. Pursuing the inquiry, they found that thisamount of stock was to be esteemed as taken in or holden by the companyfor the benefit of the pretended purchasers, although no mutual agreementwas made for its delivery or acceptance at any certain time. No money waspaid down, nor any deposit or security whatever given to the company bythe supposed purchasers; so that if the stock had fallen, as might havebeen expected had the act not passed, they would have sustained no loss. If, on the contrary, the price of stock advanced (as it actually did bythe success of the scheme), the difference by the advanced price was to bemade good to them. Accordingly, after the passing of the act, the accountof stock was made up and adjusted with Mr. Knight, and the pretendedpurchasers were paid the difference out of the company's cash. Thisfictitious stock, which had been chiefly at the disposal of Sir JohnBlunt, Mr. Gibbon, and Mr. Knight, was distributed among several membersof the government and their connexions, by way of bribe, to facilitate thepassing of the bill. To the Earl of Sunderland was assigned 50, 000l. Ofthis stock; to the Duchess of Kendal, 10, 000l. ; to the Countess of Platen, 10, 000l. ; to her two nieces, 10, 000l. ; to Mr. Secretary Craggs, 30, 000l. ;to Mr. Charles Stanhope (one of the secretaries of the Treasury), 10, 000l. ; to the Sword-blade company, 50, 000l. It also appeared that Mr. Stanhope had received the enormous sum of 250, 000l. As the difference inthe price of some stock, through the hands of Turner, Caswall, and Co. , but that his name had been partly erased from their books, and altered toStangape. Aislabie, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, had made profitsstill more abominable. He had an account with the same firm, who were alsoSouth-Sea directors, to the amount of 794, 451l. He had, besides, advisedthe company to make their second subscription one million and a half, instead of a million, by their own authority, and without any warrant. Thethird subscription had been conducted in a manner as disgraceful. Mr. Aislabie's name was down for 70, 000l. ; Mr. Craggs, senior, for 659, 000l. ;the Earl of Sunderland's for 160, 000l. ; and Mr. Stanhope for 47, 000l. Thisreport was succeeded by six others, less important. At the end of thelast, the committee declared, that the absence of Knight, who had beenprincipally entrusted, prevented them from carrying on their inquiries. 

The first report was ordered to be printed, and taken into considerationon the next day but one succeeding. After a very angry and animateddebate, a series of resolutions were agreed to, condemnatory of theconduct of the directors, of the members of the parliament and of theadministration concerned with them; and declaring that they ought, eachand all, to make satisfaction out of their own estates for the injury theyhad done the public. Their practices were declared to be corrupt, infamous, and dangerous; and a bill was ordered to be brought in for therelief of the unhappy sufferers. 

[Illustration: BONFIRES ON TOWER HILL]

Mr. Charles Stanhope was the first person brought to account for his sharein these transactions. He urged in his defence that, for some years past, he had lodged all the money he was possessed of in Mr. Knight's hands, andwhatever stock Mr. Knight had taken in for him, he had paid a valuableconsideration for it. As for the stock that had been bought for him byTurner, Caswall, and Co. , he knew nothing about it. Whatever had been donein that matter was done without his authority, and he could not beresponsible for it. Turner and Co. Took the latter charge upon themselves;but it was notorious to every unbiassed and unprejudiced person that Mr. Stanhope was a gainer of the 250, 000l. Which lay in the hands of that firmto his credit. He was, however, acquitted by a majority of three only. Thegreatest exertions were made to screen him. Lord Stanhope, the son of theEarl of Chesterfield, went round to the wavering members, using all theeloquence he was possessed of to induce them either to vote for theacquittal, or to absent themselves from the House. Many weak-headedcountry gentlemen were led astray by his persuasions, and the result wasas already stated. The acquittal caused the greatest discontent throughoutthe country. Mobs of a menacing character assembled in different parts ofLondon; fears of riots were generally entertained, especially as theexamination of a still greater delinquent was expected by many to have asimilar termination. Mr. Aislabie, whose high office and deepresponsibilities should have kept him honest, even had native principlebeen insufficient, was very justly regarded as perhaps the greatestcriminal of all. His case was entered into on the day succeeding theacquittal of Mr. Stanhope. Great excitement prevailed, and the lobbies andavenues of the House were beset by crowds, impatient to know the result. The debate lasted the whole day. Mr. Aislabie found few friends: his guiltwas so apparent and so heinous that nobody had courage to stand up in hisfavour. It was finally resolved, without a dissentient voice, that Mr. Aislabie had encouraged and promoted the destructive execution of theSouth-Sea scheme with a view to his own exorbitant profit, and hadcombined with the directors in their pernicious practices, to the ruin ofthe public trade and credit of the kingdom: that he should for hisoffences be ignominiously expelled from the House of Commons, andcommitted a close prisoner to the Tower of London; that he should berestrained from going out of the kingdom for a whole year, or till the endof the next session of Parliament; and that he should make out a correctaccount of all his estate, in order that it might be applied to the reliefof those who had suffered by his mal-practices. 

This verdict caused the greatest joy. Though it was delivered at half-pasttwelve at night, it soon spread over the city. Several persons illuminatedtheir houses in token of their joy. On the following day, when Mr. Aislabie was conveyed to the Tower, the mob assembled on Tower-hill withthe intention of hooting and pelting him. Not succeeding in this, theykindled a large bonfire, and danced around it in the exuberance of theirdelight. Several bonfires were made in other places; London presented theappearance of a holiday, and people congratulated one another as if theyhad just escaped from some great calamity. The rage upon the acquittal ofMr. Stanhope had grown to such a height that none could tell where itwould have ended, had Mr. Aislabie met with the like indulgence. 

To increase the public satisfaction, Sir George Caswall, of the firm ofTurner, Caswall, and Co. , was expelled from the House on the followingday, committed to the Tower, and ordered to refund the sum of 250, 000l. 

[Illustration: EARL OF SUNDERLAND. ]

That part of the report of the Committee of Secrecy which related to theEarl of Sunderland was next taken into consideration. Every effort wasmade to clear his lordship from the imputation. As the case against himrested chiefly on the evidence extorted from Sir John Blunt, great painswere taken to make it appear that Sir John's word was not to be believed, especially in a matter affecting the honour of a peer and privycouncillor. All the friends of the ministry rallied around the earl, itbeing generally reported that a verdict of guilty against him would bringa Tory ministry into power. He was eventually acquitted by a majority of233 against 172; but the country was convinced of his guilt. The greatestindignation was every where expressed, and menacing mobs again assembledin London. Happily no disturbance took place. 

This was the day on which Mr. Craggs the elder expired. The morrow hadbeen appointed for the consideration of his case. It was very generallybelieved that he had poisoned himself. It appeared, however, that grieffor the loss of his son, one of the secretaries of the Treasury, who haddied five weeks previously of the small-pox, preyed much on his mind. Forthis son, dearly beloved, he had been amassing vast heaps of riches: hehad been getting money, but not honestly; and he for whose sake he hadbartered his honour and sullied his fame was now no more. The dread offurther exposure increased his trouble of mind, and ultimately brought onan apoplectic fit, in which he expired. He left a fortune of a million anda half, which was afterwards confiscated for the benefit of the sufferersby the unhappy delusion he had been so mainly instrumental in raising. 

One by one the case of every director of the company was taken intoconsideration. A sum amounting to two millions and fourteen thousandpounds was confiscated from their estates towards repairing the mischiefthey had done, each man being allowed a certain residue in proportion tohis conduct and circumstances, with which he might begin the world anew. Sir John Blunt was only allowed 5, 000l. Out of his fortune of upwards of183, 000l. ; Sir John Fellows was allowed 10, 000l. Out of 243, 000l. ; SirTheodore Janssen, 50, 000l. Out of 243, 000l. ; Mr. Edward Gibbon, 10, 000l. Out of 106, 000l. ; Sir John Lambert, 5000l. Out of 72, 000l. Others, lessdeeply involved, were treated with greater liberality. Gibbon, thehistorian, whose grandfather was the Mr. Edward Gibbon so severelymulcted, has given, in the _Memoirs of his Life and Writings_, aninteresting account of the proceedings in parliament at this time. He ownsthat he is not an unprejudiced witness; but, as all the writers from whichit is possible to extract any notice of the proceedings of thesedisastrous years were prejudiced on the other side, the statements of thegreat historian become of additional value. If only on the principle _audialteram partem_, his opinion is entitled to consideration. "In the year1716, " he says, "my grandfather was elected one of the directors of theSouth-Sea company, and his books exhibited the proof that before hisacceptance of that fatal office, he had acquired an independent fortune of60, 000l. But his fortune was overwhelmed in the shipwreck of the year1720, and the labours of thirty years were blasted in a single day. Of theuse or abuse of the South-Sea scheme, of the guilt or innocence of mygrandfather and his brother directors, I am neither a competent nor adisinterested judge. Yet the equity of modern times must condemn theviolent and arbitrary proceedings, which would have disgraced the cause ofjustice, and rendered injustice still more odious. No sooner had thenation awakened from its golden dream, than a popular and even aparliamentary clamour demanded its victims; but it was acknowledged on allsides, that the directors, however guilty, could not be touched by anyknown laws of the land. The intemperate notions of Lord Molesworth werenot literally acted on; but a bill of pains and penalties wasintroduced--a retro-active statute, to punish the offences which did notexist at the time they were committed. The legislature restrained thepersons of the directors, imposed an exorbitant security for theirappearance, and marked their character with a previous note of ignominy. They were compelled to deliver, upon oath, the strict value of theirestates, and were disabled from making any transfer or alienation of anypart of their property. Against a bill of pains and penalties, it is thecommon right of every subject to be heard by his counsel at the bar. Theyprayed to be heard. Their prayer was refused, and their oppressors, whorequired no evidence, would listen to no defence. It had been at firstproposed, that one-eighth of their respective estates should be allowedfor the future support of the directors; but it was especially urged that, in the various shades of opulence and guilt, such a proportion would betoo light for many, and for some might possibly be too heavy. Thecharacter and conduct of each man were separately weighed; but, instead ofthe calm solemnity of a judicial inquiry, the fortune and honour ofthirty-three Englishmen were made the topics of hasty conversation, thesport of a lawless majority; and the basest member of the committee, by amalicious word or a silent vote, might indulge his general spleen orpersonal animosity. Injury was aggravated by insult, and insult wasembittered by pleasantry. Allowances of 20l. Or 1s. Were facetiouslymoved. A vague report that a director had formerly been concerned inanother project, by which some unknown persons had lost their money, wasadmitted as a proof of his actual guilt. One man was ruined because he haddropped a foolish speech, that his horses should feed upon gold; another, because he was grown so proud, that one day, at the Treasury, he hadrefused a civil answer to persons much above him. All were condemned, absent and unheard, in arbitrary fines and forfeitures, which swept awaythe greatest part of their substance. Such bold oppression can scarcely beshielded by the omnipotence of parliament. My grandfather could not expectto be treated with more lenity than his companions. His Tory principlesand connexions rendered him obnoxious to the ruling powers. His name wasreported in a suspicious secret. His well-known abilities could not pleadthe excuse of ignorance or error. In the first proceedings against theSouth-Sea directors, Mr. Gibbon was one of the first taken into custody, and in the final sentence the measure of his fine proclaimed him eminentlyguilty. The total estimate, which he delivered on oath to the House ofCommons, amounted to 106, 543l. 5s. 6d. , exclusive of antecedentsettlements. Two different allowances of 15, 000l. And of 10, 000l. Weremoved for Mr. Gibbon; but on the question being put, it was carriedwithout a division for the smaller sum. On these ruins, with the skill andcredit of which parliament had not been able to despoil him, mygrandfather, at a mature age, erected the edifice of a new fortune. Thelabours of sixteen years were amply rewarded; and I have reason to believethat the second structure was not much inferior to the first. "

[Illustration: THE SOUTH-SEA BUBBLE. --CARICATURE BY HOGARTH. [26]]

 [26] Emblematic print of the South-Sea Scheme. By W. Hogarth. 

The next consideration of the legislature, after the punishment of thedirectors, was to restore public credit. The scheme of Walpole had beenfound insufficient, and had fallen into disrepute. A computation was madeof the whole capital stock of the South-Sea company at the end of the year1720. It was found to amount to thirty-seven millions eight hundredthousand pounds, of which the stock allotted to all the proprietors onlyamounted to twenty-four millions five hundred thousand pounds. Theremainder of thirteen millions three hundred thousand pounds belonged tothe company in their corporate capacity, and was the profit they had madeby the national delusion. Upwards of eight millions of this were takenfrom the company, and divided among the proprietors and subscribersgenerally, making a dividend of about 33l. 6s. 8d. Per cent. This was agreat relief. It was further ordered, that such persons as had borrowedmoney from the South-Sea company upon stock actually transferred andpledged at the time of borrowing to or for the use of the company, shouldbe free from all demands, upon payment of ten per cent of the sums soborrowed. They had lent about eleven millions in this manner, at a timewhen prices were unnaturally raised; and they now received back onemillion one hundred thousand, when prices had sunk to their ordinarylevel. 

But it was a long time before public credit was thoroughly restored. Enterprise, like Icarus, had soared too high, and melted the wax of herwings; like Icarus, she had fallen into a sea, and learned, whilefloundering in its waves, that her proper element was the solid ground. She has never since attempted so high a flight. 

In times of great commercial prosperity there has been a tendency toover-speculation on several occasions since then. The success of oneproject generally produces others of a similar kind. Popular imitativenesswill always, in a trading nation, seize hold of such successes, and drag acommunity too anxious for profits into an abyss from which extrication isdifficult. Bubble companies, of a kind similar to those engendered by theSouth-Sea project, lived their little day in the famous year of the panic, 1825. On that occasion, as in 1720, knavery gathered a rich harvest fromcupidity, but both suffered when the day of reckoning came. The schemes ofthe year 1836 threatened, at one time, results as disastrous; but theywere happily averted before it was too late. [27]

 [27] The South-Sea project remained until 1845 the greatest example in British history of the infatuation of the people for commercial gambling. The first edition of these volumes was published some time before the outbreak of the Great Railway Mania of that and the following year. 

[Illustration: BUBBLERS' ARMS--DESPAIR--FROM A PRINT IN THE COLLECTION OFE. HAWKINS, ESQ. ]

[Illustration: CONRAD GESNER. ]

THE TULIPOMANIA. 

 Quis furor, ô cives!--_Lucan_. 

The tulip, --so named, it is said, from a Turkish word, signifying aturban, --was introduced into western Europe about the middle of thesixteenth century. Conrad Gesner, who claims the merit of having broughtit into repute, --little dreaming of the commotion it was shortlyafterwards to make in the world, --says that he first saw it in the year1559, in a garden at Augsburg, belonging to the learned CounsellorHerwart, a man very famous in his day for his collection of rare exotics. The bulbs were sent to this gentleman by a friend at Constantinople, wherethe flower had long been a favourite. In the course of ten or eleven yearsafter this period, tulips were much sought after by the wealthy, especially in Holland and Germany. Rich people at Amsterdam sent for thebulbs direct to Constantinople, and paid the most extravagant prices forthem. The first roots planted in England were brought from Vienna in 1600. Until the year 1634 the tulip annually increased in reputation, until itwas deemed a proof of bad taste in any man of fortune to be without acollection of them. Many learned men, including Pompeius de Angelis andthe celebrated Lipsius of Leyden, the author of the treatise "DeConstantia, " were passionately fond of tulips. The rage for possessingthem soon caught the middle classes of society, and merchants andshopkeepers, even of moderate means, began to vie with each other in therarity of these flowers and the preposterous prices they paid for them. Atrader at Harlaem was known to pay one-half of his fortune for a singleroot, not with the design of selling it again at a profit, but to keep inhis own conservatory for the admiration of his acquaintance. 

One would suppose that there must have been some great virtue in thisflower to have made it so valuable in the eyes of so prudent a people asthe Dutch; but it has neither the beauty nor the perfume of therose--hardly the beauty of the "sweet, sweet-pea;" neither is it asenduring as either. Cowley, it is true, is loud in its praise. He says--

 "The tulip next appeared, all over gay, But wanton, full of pride, and full of play; The world can't shew a dye but here has place; Nay, by new mixtures, she can change her face; Purple and gold are both beneath her care, The richest needlework she loves to wear; Her only study is to please the eye, And to outshine the rest in finery. "

This, though not very poetical, is the description of a poet. Beckmann, inhis _History of Inventions_, paints it with more fidelity, and in prosemore pleasing than Cowley's poetry. He says, "There are few plants whichacquire, through accident, weakness, or disease, so many variegations asthe tulip. When uncultivated, and in its natural state, it is almost ofone colour, has large leaves, and an extraordinarily long stem. When ithas been weakened by cultivation, it becomes more agreeable in the eyes ofthe florist. The petals are then paler, smaller, and more diversified inhue; and the leaves acquire a softer green colour. Thus this masterpieceof culture, the more beautiful it turns, grows so much the weaker, sothat, with the greatest skill and most careful attention, it can scarcelybe transplanted, or even kept alive. "

Many persons grow insensibly attached to that which gives them a greatdeal of trouble, as a mother often loves her sick and ever-ailing childbetter than her more healthy offspring. Upon the same principle we mustaccount for the unmerited encomia lavished upon these fragile blossoms. In1634, the rage among the Dutch to possess them was so great that theordinary industry of the country was neglected, and the population, evento its lowest dregs, embarked in the tulip trade. As the mania increased, prices augmented, until, in the year 1635, many persons were known toinvest a fortune of 100, 000 florins in the purchase of forty roots. Itthen became necessary to sell them by their weight in _perits_, a smallweight less than a grain. A tulip of the species called _Admiral Liefken_, weighing 400 _perits_, was worth 4400 florins; an _Admiral Van der Eyck_, weighing 446 _perits_, was worth 1260 florins; a _Childer_ of 106 _perits_was worth 1615 florins; a _Viceroy_ of 400 _perits_, 3000 florins, and, most precious of all, a _Semper Augustus_, weighing 200 _perits_, wasthought to be very cheap at 5500 florins. The latter was much soughtafter, and even an inferior bulb might command a price of 2000 florins. Itis related that, at one time, early in 1636, there were only two roots ofthis description to be had in all Holland, and those not of the best. Onewas in the possession of a dealer in Amsterdam, and the other in Harlaem. So anxious were the speculators to obtain them, that one person offeredthe fee-simple of twelve acres of building-ground for the Harlaem tulip. That of Amsterdam was bought for 4600 florins, a new carriage, two greyhorses, and a complete suit of harness. Hunting, an industrious author ofthat day, who wrote a folio volume of one thousand pages upon thetulipomania, has preserved the folio wing list of the various articles, and their value, which were delivered for one single root of the rarespecies called the _Viceroy_:

 florins. Two lasts of wheat 448 Four lasts of rye 558 Four fat oxen 480 Eight fat swine 240 Twelve fat sheep 120 Two hogsheads of wine 70 Four tuns of beer 32 Two tuns of butter 192 One thousand lbs. Of cheese 120 A complete bed 100 A suit of clothes 80 A silver drinking-cup 60 ------ 2500

People who had been absent from Holland, and whose chance it was to returnwhen this folly was at its maximum, were sometimes led into awkwarddilemmas by their ignorance. There is an amusing instance of the kindrelated in Blainville's _Travels_. A wealthy merchant, who prided himselfnot a little on his rare tulips, received upon one occasion a veryvaluable consignment of merchandise from the Levant. Intelligence of itsarrival was brought him by a sailor, who presented himself for thatpurpose at the counting-house, among bales of goods of every description. The merchant, to reward him for his news, munificently made him a presentof a fine red herring for his breakfast. The sailor had, it appears, agreat partiality for onions, and seeing a bulb very like an onion lyingupon the counter of this liberal trader, and thinking it, no doubt, verymuch out of its place among silks and velvets, he slily seized anopportunity and slipped it into his pocket, as a relish for his herring. He got clear off with his prize, and proceeded to the quay to eat hisbreakfast. Hardly was his back turned when the merchant missed hisvaluable _Semper Augustus_, worth three thousand florins, or about 280l. Sterling. The whole establishment was instantly in an uproar; search wasevery where made for the precious root, but it was not to be found. Greatwas the merchant's distress of mind. The search was renewed, but againwithout success. At last some one thought of the sailor. 

The unhappy merchant sprang into the street at the bare suggestion. Hisalarmed household followed him. The sailor, simple soul! had not thoughtof concealment. He was found quietly sitting on a coil of ropes, masticating the last morsel of his "_onion_". Little did he dream that hehad been eating a breakfast whose cost might have regaled a whole ship'screw for a twelvemonth; or, as the plundered merchant himself expressedit, "might have sumptuously feasted the Prince of Orange and the wholecourt of the Stadtholder. " Anthony caused pearls to be dissolved in wineto drink the health of Cleopatra; Sir Richard Whittington was as foolishlymagnificent in an entertainment to King Henry V. ; and Sir Thomas Greshamdrank a diamond dissolved in wine to the health of Queen Elizabeth, whenshe opened the Royal Exchange; but the breakfast of this roguish Dutchmanwas as splendid as either. He had an advantage, too, over his wastefulpredecessors: _their_ gems did not improve the taste or the wholesomenessof _their_ wine, while _his_ tulip was quite delicious with his redherring. The most unfortunate part of the business for him was, that heremained in prison for some months on a charge of felony preferred againsthim by the merchant. 

Another story is told of an English traveller, which is scarcely lessludicrous. This gentleman, an amateur botanist, happened to see atulip-root lying in the conservatory of a wealthy Dutchman. Being ignorantof its quality, he took out his penknife, and peeled off its coats, withthe view of making experiments upon it. When it was by this means reducedto half its size, he cut it into two equal sections, making all the timemany learned remarks on the singular appearances of the unknown bulb. Suddenly, the owner pounced upon him, and, with fury in his eyes, askedhim if he knew what he had been doing? "Peeling a most extraordinaryonion, " replied the philosopher. "_Hundert tausend duyvel!_" said theDuchman; "it's an _Admiral Van der Eyck_. " "Thank you, " replied thetraveller, taking out his note-book to make a memorandum of the same; "arethese admirals common in your country?" "Death and the devil!" said theDutchman, seizing the astonished man of science by the collar; "comebefore the syndic, and you shall see. " In spite of his remonstrances, thetraveller was led through the streets followed by a mob of persons. Whenbrought into the presence of the magistrate, he learned, to hisconsternation, that the root upon which he had been experimentalising wasworth four thousand florins; and, notwithstanding all he could urge inextenuation, he was lodged in prison until he found securities for thepayment of this sum. 

The demand for tulips of a rare species increased so much in the year1636, that regular marts for their sale were established on the StockExchange of Amsterdam, in Rotterdam, Harlaem, Leyden, Alkmar, Hoorn, andother towns. Symptoms of gambling now became, for the first time, apparent. The stock-jobbers, ever on the alert for a new speculation, dealt largely in tulips, making use of all the means they so well knew howto employ, to cause fluctuations in prices. At first, as in all thesegambling mania, confidence was at its height, and every body gained. Thetulip-jobbers speculated in the rise and fall of the tulip stocks, andmade large profits by buying when prices fell, and selling out when theyrose. Many individuals grew suddenly rich. A golden bait hung temptinglyout before the people, and one after the other, they rushed to thetulip-marts, like flies around a honey-pot. Every one imagined that thepassion for tulips would last for ever, and that the wealthy from everypart of the world would send to Holland, and pay whatever prices wereasked for them. The riches of Europe would be concentrated on the shoresof the Zuyder Zee, and poverty banished from the favoured clime ofHolland. Nobles, citizens, farmers, mechanics, sea-men, footmen, maid-servants, even chimney-sweeps and old clothes-women, dabbled intulips. People of all grades converted their property into cash, andinvested it in flowers. Houses and lands were offered for sale atruinously low prices, or assigned in payment of bargains made at thetulip-mart. Foreigners became smitten with the same frenzy, and moneypoured into Holland from all directions. The prices of the necessaries oflife rose again by degrees: houses and lands, horses and carriages, andluxuries of every sort, rose in value with them, and for some monthsHolland seemed the very antechamber of Plutus. The operations of the tradebecame so extensive and so intricate, that it was found necessary to drawup a code of laws for the guidance of the dealers. Notaries and clerkswere also appointed, who devoted themselves exclusively to the interestsof the trade. The designation of public notary was hardly known in sometowns, that of tulip-notary usurping its place. In the smaller towns, where there was no exchange, the principal tavern was usually selected asthe "show-place, " where high and low traded in tulips, and confirmed theirbargains over sumptuous entertainments. These dinners were sometimesattended by two or three hundred persons, and large vases of tulips, infull bloom, were placed at regular intervals upon the tables andsideboards for their gratification during the repast. 

At last, however, the more prudent began to see that this folly could notlast for ever. Rich people no longer bought the flowers to keep them intheir gardens, but to sell them again at cent per cent profit. It was seenthat somebody must lose fearfully in the end. As this conviction spread, prices fell, and never rose again. Confidence was destroyed, and auniversal panic seized upon the dealers. _A_ had agreed to purchase ten_Semper Augustines_ from _B_, at four thousand florins each, at six weeksafter the signing of the contract. _B_ was ready with the flowers at theappointed time; but the price had fallen to three or four hundred florins, and _A_ refused either to pay the difference or receive the tulips. Defaulters were announced day after day in all the towns of Holland. Hundreds who, a few months previously, had begun to doubt that there wassuch a thing as poverty in the land, suddenly found themselves thepossessors of a few bulbs, which nobody would buy, even though theyoffered them at one quarter of the sums they had paid for them. The cry ofdistress resounded every where, and each man accused his neighbour. Thefew who had contrived to enrich themselves hid their wealth from theknowledge of their fellow-citizens, and invested it in the English orother funds. Many who, for a brief season, had emerged from the humblerwalks of life, were cast back into their original obscurity. Substantialmerchants were reduced almost to beggary, and many a representative of anoble line saw the fortunes of his house ruined beyond redemption. 

When the first alarm subsided, the tulip-holders in the several towns heldpublic meetings to devise what measures, were best to be taken to restorepublic credit. It was generally agreed, that deputies should be sent fromall parts to Amsterdam, to consult with the government upon some remedyfor the evil. The government at first refused to interfere, but advisedthe tulip-holders to agree to some plan among themselves. Several meetingswere held for this purpose; but no measure could be devised likely to givesatisfaction to the deluded people, or repair even a slight portion of themischief that had been done. The language of complaint and reproach was inevery body's mouth, and all the meetings were of the most stormycharacter. At last, however, after much bickering and ill-will, it wasagreed, at Amsterdam, by the assembled deputies, that all contracts madein the height of the mania, or prior to the month of November 1636, shouldbe declared null and void, and that, in those made after that date, purchasers should be freed from their engagements, on paying ten per centto the vendor. This decision gave no satisfaction. The vendors who hadtheir tulips on hand were, of course, discontented, and those who hadpledged themselves to purchase, thought themselves hardly treated. Tulipswhich had, at one time, been worth six thousand florins, were now to beprocured for five hundred; so that the composition of ten per cent was onehundred florins more than the actual value. Actions for breach of contractwere threatened in all the courts of the country; but the latter refusedto take cognisance of gambling transactions. 

The matter was finally referred to the Provincial Council at the Hague, and it was confidently expected that the wisdom of this body would inventsome measure by which credit should be restored. Expectation was on thestretch for its decision, but it never came. The members continued todeliberate week after week, and at last, after thinking about it for threemonths, declared that they could offer no final decision until they hadmore information. They advised, however, that, in the mean time, everyvendor should, in the presence of witnesses, offer the tulips _in natura_to the purchaser for the sums agreed upon. If the latter refused to takethem, they might be put up for sale by public auction, and the originalcontractor held responsible for the difference between the actual and thestipulated price. This was exactly the plan recommended by the deputies, and which was already shewn to be of no avail. There was no court inHolland which would enforce payment. The question was raised in Amsterdam, but the judges unanimously refused to interfere, on the ground that debtscontracted in gambling were no debts in law. 

Thus the matter rested. To find a remedy was beyond the power of thegovernment. Those who were unlucky enough to have had stores of tulips onhand at the time of the sudden reaction were left to bear their ruin asphilosophically as they could; those who had made profits were allowed tokeep them; but the commerce of the country suffered a severe shock, fromwhich it was many years ere it recovered. 

The example of the Dutch was imitated to some extent in England. In theyear 1636 tulips were publicly sold in the Exchange of London, and thejobbers exerted themselves to the utmost to raise them to the fictitiousvalue they had acquired in Amsterdam. In Paris also the jobbers strove tocreate a tulipomania. In both cities they only partially succeeded. However, the force of example brought the flowers into great favour, andamongst a certain class of people tulips have ever since been prized morehighly than any other flowers of the field. The Dutch are still notoriousfor their partiality to them, and continue to pay higher prices for themthan any other people. As the rich Englishman boasts of his finerace-horses or his old pictures, so does the wealthy Dutchman vaunt him ofhis tulips. 

In England, in our day, strange as it may appear, a tulip will producemore money than an oak. If one could be found, _rara in terris_, and blackas the black swan of Juvenal, its price would equal that of a dozen acresof standing corn. In Scotland, towards the close of the seventeenthcentury, the highest price for tulips, according to the authority of awriter in the supplement to the third edition of the _EncyclopediaBritannica_, was ten guineas. Their value appears to have diminished fromthat time till the year 1769, when the two most valuable species inEngland were the _Don Quevedo_ and the _Valentinier_, the former of whichwas worth two guineas and the latter two guineas and a half. These pricesappear to have been the minimum. In the year 1800, a common price wasfifteen guineas for a single bulb. In 1835, a bulb of the species calledthe Miss Fanny Kemble was sold by public auction in London forseventy-five pounds. Still more remarkable was the price of a tulip in thepossession of a gardener in the King's Road, Chelsea;--in his cataloguesit was labelled at two hundred guineas. 

[Illustration]

THE ALCHYMISTS;

or

Searchers for the Philosopher's Stone and the Water of Life. 

 _Mercury_ (_loquitur_). The mischief a secret any of them know, above the consuming of coals and drawing of usquebaugh! howsoever they may pretend, under the specious names of Geber, Arnold, Lulli, or bombast of Hohenheim, to commit miracles in art, and treason against nature! As if the title of philosopher, that creature of glory, were to be fetched out of a furnace! I am their crude and their sublimate, their precipitate and their unctions; their male and their female, sometimes their hermaphrodite--what they list to style me! They will calcine you a grave matron, as it might be a mother of the maids, and spring up a young virgin out of her ashes, as fresh as a phoenix; lay you an old courtier on the coals, like a sausage or a bloat-herring, and, after they have broiled him enough, blow a soul into him with a pair of bellows! See, they begin to muster again, and draw their forces out against me! The genius of the place defend me!--BEN JONSON'S _Masque: Mercury vindicated from the Alchymists_. 

Dissatisfaction with his lot seems to be the characteristic of man in allages and climates. So far, however, from being an evil, as at first mightbe supposed, it has been the great civiliser of our race; and has tended, more than any thing else, to raise us above the condition of the brutes. But the same discontent which has been the source of all improvement, hasbeen the parent of no small progeny of follies and absurdities; to tracethese latter is our present object. Vast as the subject appears, it iseasily reducible within such limits as will make it comprehensive withoutbeing wearisome, and render its study both instructive and amusing. 

Three causes especially have excited the discontent of mankind; and, byimpelling us to seek for remedies for the irremediable, have bewildered usin a maze of madness and error. These are death, toil, and ignorance ofthe future--the doom of man upon this sphere, and for which he shews hisantipathy by his love of life, his longing for abundance, and his cravingcuriosity to pierce the secrets of the days to come. The first has ledmany to imagine that they might find means to avoid death, or failing inthis, that they might, nevertheless, so prolong existence as to reckon itby centuries instead of units. From this sprang the search, so longcontinued and still pursued, for the _elixir vitæ_, or _water of life_, which has led thousands to pretend to it and millions to believe in it. From the second sprang the search for the philosopher's stone, which wasto create plenty by changing all metals into gold; and from the third, thefalse sciences of astrology, divination, and their divisions ofnecromancy, chiromancy, augury, with all their train of signs, portents, and omens. 

In tracing the career of the erring philosophers, or the wilful cheats, who have encouraged or preyed upon the credulity of mankind, it willsimplify and elucidate the subject, if we divide it into three classes:the first comprising alchymists, or those in general who have devotedthemselves to the discovering of the philosopher's stone and the water oflife; the second comprising astrologers, necromancers, sorcerers, geomancers, and all those who pretended to discover futurity; and thethird consisting of the dealers in charms, amulets, philters, universal-panacea mongers, touchers for the evil, seventh sons of aseventh son, sympathetic powder compounders, homoeopathists, animalmagnetisers, and all the motley tribe of quacks, empirics, and charlatans. 

But in narrating the career of such men, it will be found that many ofthem united several or all of the functions just mentioned; that thealchymist was a fortune-teller, or a necromancer--that he pretended tocure all maladies by touch or charm, and to work miracles of every kind. In the dark and early ages of European history this is more especially thecase. Even as we advance to more recent periods, we shall find greatdifficulty in separating the characters. The alchymist seldom confinedhimself strictly to his pretended science--the sorcerer and necromancer totheirs, or the medical charlatan to his. Beginning with alchymy, someconfusion of these classes is unavoidable; but the ground will clear forus as we advance. 

Let us not, in the pride of our superior knowledge, turn with contemptfrom the follies of our predecessors. The study of the errors into whichgreat minds have fallen in the pursuit of truth can never beuninstructive. As the man looks back to the days of his childhood and hisyouth, and recalls to his mind the strange notions and false opinions thatswayed his actions at that time, that he may wonder at them; so shouldsociety, for its edification, look back to the opinions which governed theages fled. He is but a superficial thinker who would despise and refuse tohear of them merely because they are absurd. No man is so wise but that hemay learn some wisdom from his past errors, either of thought or action;and no society has made such advances as to be capable of no improvementfrom the retrospect of its past folly and credulity. And not only is sucha study instructive: he who reads for amusement only will find no chapterin the annals of the human mind more amusing than this. It opens out thewhole realm of fiction--the wild, the fantastic, and the wonderful, andall the immense variety of things "that are not, and cannot be; but thathave been imagined and believed. "

 * * * * *

For more than a thousand years the art of alchymy captivated many noblespirits, and was believed in by millions. Its origin is involved inobscurity. Some of its devotees have claimed for it an antiquity coevalwith the creation of man himself, others, again, would trace it no furtherback than the time of Noah. Vincent de Beauvais argues, indeed, that allthe antediluvians must have possessed a knowledge of alchymy; andparticularly cites Noah as having been acquainted with the _elixir vitæ_, or he could not have lived to so prodigious an age, and have begottenchildren when upwards of five hundred. Lenglet du Fresnoy, in his _Historyof the Hermetic Philosophy_, says, "Most of them pretended that Shem, orChem, the son of Noah, was an adept in the art, and thought it highlyprobable that the words _chemistry_ and _alchymy_ are both derived fromhis name. " Others say, the art was derived from the Egyptians, amongstwhom it was first founded by Hermes Trismegistus. Moses, who is lookedupon as a first-rate alchymist, gained his knowledge in Egypt; but he keptit all to himself, and would not instruct the children of Israel in itsmysteries. All the writers upon alchymy triumphantly cite the story of thegolden calf, in the 32d chapter of Exodus, to prove that this greatlawgiver was an adept, and could make or unmake gold at his pleasure. Itis recorded, that Moses was so wrath with the Israelites for theiridolatry, "that he took the calf which they had made, and burned it in thefire, and ground it to powder, and strewed it upon the water, and made thechildren of Israel drink of it. " This, say the alchymists, he never couldhave done had he not been in possession of the philosopher's stone; by noother means could he have made the powder of gold float upon the water. But we must leave this knotty point for the consideration of the adepts inthe art, if any such there be, and come to more modern periods of itshistory. The Jesuit, Father Martini, in his _Historia Sinica_, says, itwas practised by the Chinese two thousand five hundred years before thebirth of Christ; but his assertion, being unsupported, is worth nothing. It would appear, however, that pretenders to the art of making gold andsilver existed in Rome in the first centuries after the Christian era, andthat, when discovered, they were liable to punishment as knaves andimpostors. At Constantinople, in the fourth century, the transmutation ofmetals was very generally believed in, and many of the Greek ecclesiasticswrote treatises upon the subject. Their names are preserved, and somenotice of their works given, in the third volume of Langlet du Fresnoy's_History of the Hermetic Philosophy_. Their notion appears to have been, that all metals were composed of two substances; the one, metallic earth;and the other, a red inflammable matter, which they called sulphur. Thepure union of these substances formed gold; but other metals were mixedwith and contaminated by various foreign ingredients. The object of thephilosopher's stone was to dissolve or neutralise all these ingredients, by which iron, lead, copper, and all metals would be transmuted into theoriginal gold. Many learned and clever men wasted their time, theirhealth, and their energies, in this vain pursuit; but for severalcenturies it took no great hold upon the imagination of the people. Thehistory of the delusion appears, in a manner, lost from this time till theeighth century, when it appeared amongst the Arabians. From this period itbecomes easier to trace its progress. A master then appeared, who was longlooked upon as the father of the science, and whose name is indissolublyconnected with it. 

GEBER. 

Of this philosopher, who devoted his life to the study of alchymy, but fewparticulars are known. He is thought to have lived in the year 730. Histrue name was Abou Moussah Djafar, to which was added Al Sofi, or "TheWise, " and he was born at Houran, in Mesopotamia. [28] Some have thoughthe was a Greek, others a Spaniard, and others a prince of Hindostan; butof all the mistakes which have been made respecting him, the mostludicrous was that made by the French translator of Sprenger's _History ofMedicine_, who thought, from the sound of his name, that he was a German, and rendered it as the "Donnateur, " or Giver. No details of his life areknown; but it is asserted, that he wrote more than five hundred works uponthe philosopher's stone and the water of life. He was a great enthusiastin his art, and compared the incredulous to little children shut up in anarrow room, without windows or aperture, who, because they saw nothingbeyond, denied the existence of the great globe itself. He thought that apreparation of gold would cure all maladies, not only in man, but in theinferior animals and plants. He also imagined that all the metals labouredunder disease, with the exception of gold, which was the only one inperfect health. He affirmed, that the secret of the philosopher's stonehad been more than once discovered; but that the ancient and wise men whohad hit upon it would never, by word or writing, communicate it to men, because of their unworthiness and incredulity. [29] But the life of Geber, though spent in the pursuit of this vain chimera, was not altogetheruseless. He stumbled upon discoveries which he did not seek; and scienceis indebted to him for the first mention of corrosive sublimate, the redoxide of mercury, nitric acid, and the nitrate of silver. [30]

 [28] _Biographie Universelle_. 

 [29] His sum "of perfection, " or instructions to students to aid them in the laborious search for the stone and elixir, has been translated into most of the languages of Europe. An English translation, by a great enthusiast in alchymy, one Richard Russell, was published in London in 1686. The preface is dated eight years previously from the house of the alchymist, "at the Star, in Newmarket, in Wapping, near the Dock. " His design in undertaking the translation was, as he informs us, to expose the false pretences of the many ignorant pretenders to the science who abounded in his day. 

 [30] Article, Geber, _Biographie Universelle_. 

For more than two hundred years after the death of Geber, the Arabianphilosophers devoted themselves to the study of alchymy, joining with itthat of astrology. Of these the most celebrated was

ALFARABI. 

Alfarabi flourished at the commencement of the tenth century, and enjoyedthe reputation of being one of the most learned men of his age. He spenthis life in travelling from country to country, that he might gather theopinions of philosophers upon the great secrets of nature. No dangerdismayed him; no toil wearied him of the pursuit. Many sovereignsendeavoured to retain him at their courts; but he refused to rest until hehad discovered the great object of his life--the art of preserving it forcenturies, and of making gold as much as he needed. This wandering mode oflife at last proved fatal to him. He had been on a visit to Mecca, not somuch for religious as for philosophical purposes, when, returning throughSyria, he stopped at the court of the Sultan Seifeddoulet, who wasrenowned as the patron of learning. He presented himself in his travellingattire in the presence of that monarch and his courtiers; and, withoutinvitation, coolly sat himself down on the sofa beside the prince. Thecourtiers and wise men were indignant; and the sultan, who did not knowthe intruder, was at first inclined to follow their example. He turned toone of his officers, and ordered him to eject the presumptuous strangerfrom the room; but Alfarabi, without moving, dared them to lay hands uponhim; and, turning himself calmly to the prince, remarked, that he did notknow who was his guest, or he would treat him with honour, not withviolence. The sultan, instead of being still further incensed, as manypotentates would have been, admired his coolness; and, requesting him tosit still closer to him on the sofa, entered into a long conversation withhim upon science and divine philosophy. All the court were charmed withthe stranger. Questions for discussion were propounded, on all of which heshewed superior knowledge. He convinced every one who ventured to disputewith him; and spoke so eloquently upon the science of alchymy, that he wasat once recognised as only second to the great Geber himself. One of thedoctors present inquired whether a man who knew so many sciences wasacquainted with music? Alfarabi made no reply, but merely requested that alute should be brought him. The lute was brought; and he played suchravishing and tender melodies, that all the court were melted into tears. He then changed his theme, and played airs so sprightly, that he set thegrave philosophers, sultan and all, dancing as fast as their legs couldcarry them. He then sobered them again by a mournful strain, and made themsob and sigh as if broken-hearted. The sultan, highly delighted with hispowers, entreated him to stay, offering him every inducement that wealth, power, and dignity could supply; but the alchymist resolutely refused, itbeing decreed, he said, that he should never repose till he had discoveredthe philosopher's stone. He set out accordingly the same evening, and wasmurdered by some thieves in the deserts of Syria. His biographers give nofurther particulars of his life beyond mentioning that he wrote severalvaluable treatises on his art, all of which, however, have been lost. Hisdeath happened in the year 954. 

AVICENNA. 

Avicenna, whose real name was Ebn Cinna, another great alchymist, was bornat Bokhara in 980. His reputation as a physician and a man skilled in allsciences was so great, that the Sultan Magdal Douleth resolved to try hispowers in the great science of government. He was accordingly made GrandVizier of that prince, and ruled the state with some advantage; but in ascience still more difficult, he failed completely. He could not rule hisown passions, but gave himself up to wine and women, and led a life ofshameless debauchery. Amid the multifarious pursuits of business andpleasure, he nevertheless found time to write seven treatises upon thephilosopher's stone, which were for many ages looked upon as of greatvalue by pretenders to the art. It is rare that an eminent physician asAvicenna appears to have been, abandons himself to sensual gratification;but so completely did he become enthralled in the course of a few years, that he was dismissed from his high office, and died shortly afterwards ofpremature old age and a complication of maladies, brought on bydebauchery. His death took place in the year 1036. After his time fewphilosophers of any note in Arabia are heard of as devoting themselves tothe study of alchymy; but it began shortly afterwards to attract greaterattention in Europe. Learned men in France, England, Spain, and Italy, expressed their belief in the science, and many devoted their wholeenergies to it. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries especially, it wasextensively pursued, and some of the brightest names of that age areconnected with it. Among the most eminent of them are

ALBERTUS MAGNUS AND THOMAS AQUINAS. 

The first of these philosophers was born in the year 1193, of a noblefamily at Lawingen, in the Duchy of Neuburg, on the Danube. For the firstthirty years of his life he appeared remarkably dull and stupid, and itwas feared by every one that no good could come of him. He entered aDominican monastery at an early age; but made so little progress in hisstudies, that he was more than once upon the point of abandoning them indespair, but he was endowed with extraordinary perseverance. As headvanced to middle age, his mind expanded, and he learned whatever heapplied himself to with extreme facility. So remarkable a change was notin that age to be accounted for but by a miracle. It was asserted andbelieved that the Holy Virgin, touched with his great desire to becomelearned and famous, took pity upon his incapacity, and appeared to him inthe cloister where he sat almost despairing, and asked him whether hewished to excel in philosophy or divinity. He chose philosophy, to thechagrin of the Virgin, who reproached him in mild and sorrowful accentsthat he had not made a better choice. She, however, granted his request, that he should become the most excellent philosopher of the age; but setthis drawback to his pleasure, that he should relapse, when at the heightof his fame, into his former incapacity and stupidity. Albertus never tookthe trouble to contradict the story, but prosecuted his studies with suchunremitting zeal, that his reputation speedily spread over all Europe. Inthe year 1244, the celebrated Thomas Aquinas placed himself under histuition. Many extraordinary stories are told of the master and his pupil. While they paid all due attention to other branches of science, they neverneglected the pursuit of the philosopher's stone and the _elixir vitæ_. Although they discovered neither, it was believed that Albert had seizedsome portion of the secret of life, and found means to animate a brazenstatue, upon the formation of which, under proper conjunctions of theplanets, he had been occupied many years of his life. He and ThomasAquinas completed it together, endowed it with the faculty of speech, andmade it perform the functions of a domestic servant. In this capacity itwas exceedingly useful; but, through some defect in the machinery, itchattered much more than was agreeable to either philosopher. Variousremedies were tried to cure it of its garrulity, but in vain; and one day, Thomas Aquinas was so enraged at the noise it made when he was in themidst of a mathematical problem, that he seized a ponderous hammer andsmashed it to pieces. [31] He was sorry afterwards for what he had done, and was reproved by his master for giving way to his anger, so unbecomingin a philosopher. They made no attempt to re-animate the statue. 

 [31] Naudé, _Apologie des Grands Hommes accusés de Magie_, chap. Xviii. 

[Illustration: ALBERTUS MAGNUS. ]

Such stories as these shew the spirit of the age. Every great man whoattempted to study the secrets of nature was thought a magician; and it isnot to be wondered at that, when philosophers themselves pretended todiscover an elixir for conferring immortality, or a red stone which was tocreate boundless wealth, that popular opinion should have enhanced upontheir pretensions, and have endowed them with powers still moremiraculous. It was believed of Albertus Magnus that he could even changethe course of the seasons, a feat which the many thought less difficultthan the discovery of the grand elixir. Albertus was desirous of obtaininga piece of ground on which to build a monastery in the neighbourhood ofCologne. The ground belonged to William Count of Holland and King of theRomans, who for some reason or other did not wish to part with it. Albertus is reported to have gained it by the following extraordinarymethod: He invited the prince as he was passing through Cologne to amagnificent entertainment prepared for him and all his court. The princeaccepted it, and repaired with a lordly retinue to the residence of thesage. It was in the midst of winter, the Rhine was frozen over, and thecold was so bitter, that the knights could not sit on horseback withoutrunning the risk of losing their toes by the frost. Great, therefore, wastheir surprise, on arriving at Albert's house, to find that the repast wasspread in his garden, in which the snow had drifted to the depth ofseveral feet. The earl in high dudgeon remounted his steed, but Albert atlast prevailed upon him to take his seat at the table. He had no soonerdone so, than the dark clouds rolled away from the sky--a warm sun shoneforth--the cold north wind veered suddenly round and blew a mild breezefrom the south--the snows melted away--the ice was unbound upon thestreams, and the trees put forth their green leaves and theirfruit--flowers sprang up beneath their feet, while larks, nightingales, blackbirds, cuckoos, thrushes, and every sweet song-bird sang hymns fromevery tree. The earl and his attendants wondered greatly; but they atetheir dinner, and in recompense for it, Albert got his piece of ground tobuild a convent on. He had not, however, shewn them all his power. Immediately that the repast was over, he gave the word, and dark cloudsobscured the sun--the snow fell in large flakes--the singing-birds felldead--the leaves dropped from the trees, and the winds blew so cold andhowled so mournfully, that the guests wrapped themselves up in their thickcloaks, and retreated into the house to warm themselves at the blazingfire in Albert's kitchen. [32]

 [32] Lenglet, _Histoire de la Philosophie Hermétique_. See also Godwin's _Lives of the Necromancers_. 

Thomas Aquinas also could work wonders as well as his master. It isrelated of him that he lodged in a street at Cologne, where he was muchannoyed by the incessant clatter made by the horses' hoofs, as they wereled through it daily to exercise by their grooms. He had entreated thelatter to select some other spot, where they might not disturb aphilosopher; but the grooms turned a deaf ear to all his solicitations. Inthis emergency he had recourse to the aid of magic. He constructed a smallhorse of bronze, upon which he inscribed certain cabalistic characters, and buried it at midnight in the midst of the highway. The next morning atroop of grooms came riding along as usual; but the horses, as theyarrived at the spot where the magic horse was buried, reared and plungedviolently--their nostrils distended with terror--their manes grew erect, and the perspiration ran down their sides in streams. In vain the ridersapplied the spur--in vain they coaxed or threatened, the animals would notpass the spot. On the following day their success was no better. They wereat length compelled to seek another spot for their exercise, and ThomasAquinas was left in peace. [33]

 [33] Naudé, _Apologie des Grands Hommes accusés de Magie_, chap. Xvii. 

Albertus Magnus was made Bishop of Ratisbon in 1259; but he occupied thesee only four years, when he resigned, on the ground that its dutiesoccupied too much of the time which he was anxious to devote tophilosophy. He died in Cologne in 1280, at the advanced age ofeighty-seven. The Dominican writers deny that he ever sought thephilosopher's stone, but his treatise upon minerals sufficiently provesthat he did. 

ARTEPHIUS. 

Artephius, a name noted in the annals of alchymy, was born in the earlypart of the twelfth century. He wrote two famous treatises; the one uponthe philosopher's stone, and the other on the art of prolonging humanlife. In the latter he vaunts his great qualifications for instructingmankind on such a matter, as he was at that time in the thousand andtwenty-fifth year of his age! He had many disciples who believed in hisextreme age, and who attempted to prove that he was Apollonius of Tyana, who lived soon after the advent of Jesus Christ, and the particulars ofwhose life and pretended miracles have been so fully described byPhilostratus. He took good care never to contradict a story which so muchincreased the power he was desirous of wielding over his fellow-mortals. On all convenient occasions, he boasted of it; and having an excellentmemory, a fertile imagination, and a thorough knowledge of all existinghistory, he was never at a loss for an answer when questioned as to thepersonal appearance, the manners, or the character of the great men ofantiquity. He also pretended to have found the philosopher's stone; andsaid that, in search of it, he had descended to hell, and seen the devilsitting on a throne of gold, with a legion of imps and fiends around him. His works on alchymy have been translated into French, and were publishedin Paris in 1609 or 1610. 

ALAIN DE LISLE. 

Contemporary with Albertus Magnus was Alain de Lisle of Flanders, who wasnamed, from his great learning, the "universal doctor. " He was thought topossess a knowledge of all the sciences, and, like Artephius, to havediscovered the _elixir vitæ_. He became one of the friars of the abbey ofCiteaux, and died in 1298, aged about one hundred and ten years. It wassaid of him that he was at the point of death when in his fiftieth year, but that the fortunate discovery of the elixir enabled him to add sixtyyears to his existence. He wrote a commentary on the prophecies of Merlin. 

ARNOLD DE VILLENEUVE. 

This philosopher has left a much greater reputation. He was born in theyear 1245, and studied medicine with great success in the university ofParis. He afterwards travelled for twenty years in Italy and Germany, where he made acquaintance with Pietro d'Apone, a man of a character akinto his own, and addicted to the same pursuits. As a physician, he wasthought, in his own lifetime, to be the most able the world had ever seen. Like all the learned men of that day, he dabbled in astrology and alchymy, and was thought to have made immense quantities of gold from lead andcopper. When Pietro d'Apone was arrested in Italy, and brought to trial asa sorcerer, a similar accusation was made against Arnold; but he managedto leave the country in time, and escape the fate of his unfortunatefriend. He lost some credit by predicting the end of the world, butafterwards regained it. The time of his death is not exactly known; but itmust have been prior to the year 1311, when Pope Clement V. Wrote acircular letter to all the clergy of Europe who lived under his obedience, praying them to use their utmost efforts to discover the famous treatiseof Arnold on _The Practice of Medicine_. The author had promised, duringhis lifetime, to make a present of the work to the Holy See, but diedwithout fulfilling it. 

[Illustration: ARNOLD DE VILLENEUVE. ]

In a very curious work by Monsieur Longeville Harcouet, entitled _TheHistory of the Persons who have lived several centuries and then grownyoung again_, there is a receipt, said to have been given by Arnold deVilleneuve, by means of which any one might prolong his life for a fewhundred years or so. In the first place, say Arnold and Monsieur Harcouet, "the person intending so to prolong his life must rub himself well, two orthree times a week, with the juice or marrow of cassia (_moëlle de lacasse_). Every night, upon going to bed, he must put upon his heart aplaster, composed of a certain quantity of oriental saffron, redrose-leaves, sandal-wood, aloes, and amber, liquified in oil of roses andthe best white wax. In the morning, he must take it off, and enclose itcarefully in a leaden box till the next night, when it must be againapplied. If he be of a sanguine temperament, he shall take sixteenchickens; if phlegmatic, twenty-five; and if melancholy, thirty, which heshall put into a yard where the air and the water are pure. Upon these heis to feed, eating one a day; but previously the chickens are to befattened by a peculiar method, which will impregnate their flesh with thequalities that are to produce longevity in the eater. Being deprived ofall other nourishment till they are almost dying of hunger, they are to befed upon broth made of serpents and vinegar, which broth is to bethickened with wheat and bran. " Various ceremonies are to be performed inthe cooking of this mess, which those may see in the book of M. Harcouetwho are at all interested in the matter; and the chickens are to be fedupon it for two months. They are then fit for table, and are to be washeddown with moderate quantities of good white wine or claret. This regimenis to be followed regularly every seven years, and any one may live to beas old as Methuselah! It is right to state that M. Harcouet has but littleauthority for attributing this precious composition to Arnold ofVilleneuve. It is not found in the collected works of that philosopher;but was first brought to light by a M. Poirier, at the commencement of thesixteenth century, who asserted that he had discovered it in MS. In theundoubted writing of Arnold. 

PIETRO D'APONE. 

This unlucky sage was born at Apone, near Padua, in the year 1250. Likehis friend Arnold de Villeneuve, he was an eminent physician, and apretender to the arts of astrology and alchymy. He practised for manyyears in Paris, and made great wealth by killing and curing, and tellingfortunes. In an evil day for him, he returned to his own country, with thereputation of being a magician of the first order. It was universallybelieved that he had drawn seven evil spirits from the infernal regions, whom he kept enclosed in seven crystal vases until he required theirservices, when he sent them forth to the ends of the earth to execute hispleasure. One spirit excelled in philosophy; a second, in alchymy; athird, in astrology; a fourth, in physic; a fifth, in poetry; a sixth, inmusic; and the seventh, in painting: and whenever Pietro wished forinformation or instruction in any of these arts, he had only to go to hiscrystal vase and liberate the presiding spirit. Immediately all thesecrets of the art were revealed to him; and he might, if it pleased him, excel Homer in poetry, Apelles in painting, or Pythagoras himself inphilosophy. Although he could make gold out of brass, it was said of himthat he was very sparing of his powers in that respect, and kept himselfconstantly supplied with money by other and less creditable means. Whenever he disbursed gold, he muttered a certain charm, known only tohimself, and next morning the gold was safe again in his own possession. The trader to whom he gave it might lock it in his strong box and have itguarded by a troop of soldiers, but the charmed metal flew back to its oldmaster. Even if it were buried in the earth, or thrown into the sea, thedawn of the next morning would behold it in the pockets of Pietro. Fewpeople, in consequence, liked to have dealings with such a personage, especially for gold. Some, bolder than the rest, thought that his powerdid not extend over silver; but, when they made the experiment, they foundthemselves mistaken. Bolts and bars could not restrain it, and itsometimes became invisible in their very hands, and was whisked throughthe air to the purse of the magician. He necessarily acquired a very badcharacter; and, having given utterance to some sentiments regardingreligion which were the very reverse of orthodox, he was summoned beforethe tribunals of the Inquisition to answer for his crimes as a heretic anda sorcerer. He loudly protested his innocence, even upon the rack, wherehe suffered more torture than nature could support. He died in prison erehis trial was concluded, but was afterwards found guilty. His bones wereordered to be dug up and publicly burned. He was also burned in effigy inthe streets of Padua. 

RAYMOND LULLI. 

[Illustration: RAYMOND LULLI. ]

While Arnold de Villeneuve and Pietro d'Apone flourished in France andItaly, a more celebrated adept than either appeared in Spain. This wasRaymond Lulli, a name which stands in the first rank among the alchymists. Unlike many of his predecessors, he made no pretensions to astrology ornecromancy; but, taking Geber for his model, studied intently the natureand composition of metals, without reference to charms, incantations, orany foolish ceremonies. It was not, however, till late in life that hecommenced his study of the art. His early and middle age were spent in adifferent manner, and his whole history is romantic in the extreme. He wasborn of an illustrious family, in Majorca, in the year 1235. When thatisland was taken from the Saracens by James I. King of Aragon, in 1230, the father of Raymond, who was originally of Catalonia, settled there, andreceived a considerable appointment from the crown. Raymond married at anearly age; and, being fond of pleasure, he left the solitudes of hisnative isle, and passed over with his bride into Spain. He was made GrandSeneschal at the court of King James, and led a gay life for severalyears. Faithless to his wife, he was always in the pursuit of some newbeauty, till his heart was fixed at last by the lovely but unkind Ambrosiade Castello. This lady, like her admirer, was married; but, unlike him, was faithful to her vows, and treated all his solicitations with disdain. Raymond was so enamoured, that repulse only increased his flame; helingered all night under her windows, wrote passionate verses in herpraise, neglected his affairs, and made himself the butt of all thecourtiers. One day, while watching under her lattice, he by chance caughtsight of her bosom, as her neckerchief was blown aside by the wind. Thefit of inspiration came over him, and he sat down and composed some tenderstanzas upon the subject, and sent them to the lady. The fair Ambrosia hadnever before condescended to answer his letters; but she replied to this. She told him that she could never listen to his suit; that it wasunbecoming in a wise man to fix his thoughts, as he had done, on any otherthan his God; and entreated him to devote himself to a religious life, andconquer the unworthy passion which he had suffered to consume him. She, however, offered, if he wished it, to shew him the _fair_ bosom which hadso captivated him. Raymond was delighted. He thought the latter part ofthis epistle but ill corresponded with the former, and that Ambrosia, inspite of the good advice she gave him, had at last relented, and wouldmake him as happy as he desired. He followed her about from place toplace, entreating her to fulfil her promise: but still Ambrosia was cold, and implored him with tears to importune her no longer; for that she nevercould be his, and never would, if she were free to-morrow. "What meansyour letter, then?" said the despairing lover. "I will shew you!" repliedAmbrosia, who immediately uncovered her bosom, and exposed to the eyes ofher horror-stricken admirer a large cancer which had extended to bothbreasts. She saw that he was shocked; and, extending her hand to him, sheprayed him once more to lead a religious life, and set his heart upon theCreator, and not upon the creature. He went home an altered man. He threwup, on the morrow, his valuable appointment at the court, separated fromhis wife, and took a farewell of his children, after dividing one-half ofhis ample fortune among them. The other half he shared among the poor. Hethen threw himself at the foot of a crucifix, and devoted himself to theservice of God, vowing, as the most acceptable atonement for his errors, that he would employ the remainder of his days in the task of convertingthe Mussulmans to the Christian religion. In his dreams he saw JesusChrist, who said to him, "Raymond! Raymond! follow me!" The vision wasthree times repeated, and Raymond was convinced that it was an intimationdirect from heaven. Having put his affairs in order, he set out on apilgrimage to the shrine of St. James of Compostello, and afterwards livedfor ten years in solitude amid the mountains of Aranda. Here he learnedthe Arabic, to qualify himself for his mission of converting theMahometans. He also studied various sciences, as taught in the works ofthe learned men of the East, and first made acquaintance with the writingsof Geber, which were destined to exercise so much influence over hisfuture life. 

At the end of this probation, and when he had entered his fortieth year, he emerged from his solitude into more active life. With some remains ofhis fortune, which had accumulated during his retirement, he founded acollege for the study of Arabic, which was approved of by the pope, withmany commendations upon his zeal and piety. At this time he narrowlyescaped assassination from an Arabian youth whom he had taken into hisservice. Raymond had prayed to God, in some of his accesses of fanaticism, that he might suffer martyrdom in his holy cause. His servant hadoverheard him: and, being as great a fanatic as his master, he resolved togratify his wish, and punish him, at the same time, for the curses whichhe incessantly launched against Mahomet and all who believed in him, bystabbing him to the heart. He therefore aimed a blow at his master as hesat one day at table; but the instinct of self-preservation being strongerthan the desire of martyrdom, Raymond grappled with his antagonist, andoverthrew him. He scorned to take his life himself; but handed him over tothe authorities of the town, by whom he was afterwards found dead in hisprison. 

After this adventure Raymond travelled to Paris, where he resided for sometime, and made the acquaintance of Arnold de Villeneuve. From him heprobably received some encouragement to search for the philosopher'sstone, as he began from that time forth to devote less of his attention toreligious matters, and more to the study of alchymy. Still he never lostsight of the great object for which he lived--the conversion of theMahometans--and proceeded to Rome, to communicate personally with PopeJohn XXI. On the best measures to be adopted for that end. The Pope gavehim encouragement in words, but failed to associate any other persons withhim in the enterprise which he meditated. Raymond, therefore, set out forTunis alone, and was kindly received by many Arabian philosophers, who hadheard of his fame as a professor of alchymy. If he had stuck to alchymywhile in their country, it would have been well for him; but he begancursing Mahomet, and got himself into trouble. While preaching thedoctrines of Christianity in the great bazaar of Tunis, he was arrestedand thrown into prison. He was shortly afterwards brought to trial, andsentenced to death. Some of his philosophic friends interceded hard forhim, and he was pardoned upon condition that he left Africa immediatelyand never again set foot in it. If he was found there again, no matterwhat his object might be, or whatever length of time might intervene, hisoriginal sentence would be carried into execution. Raymond was not at allsolicitous of martyrdom when it came to the point, whatever he might havebeen when there was no danger, and he gladly accepted his life upon theseconditions, and left Tunis with the intention of proceeding to Rome. Heafterwards changed his plan, and established himself at Milan, where, fora length of time, he practised alchymy, and some say astrology, with greatsuccess. 

Most writers who believed in the secrets of alchymy, and who have noticedthe life of Raymond Lulli, assert, that while in Milan, he receivedletters from Edward King of England, inviting him to settle in his states. They add that Lulli gladly accepted the invitation, and had apartmentsassigned for his use in the Tower of London, where he refined much gold;superintended the coinage of "rose-nobles, " and made gold out of iron, quicksilver, lead, and pewter, to the amount of six millions. The writersin the _Biographie Universelle_, an excellent authority in general, denythat Raymond was ever in England, and say, that in all these stories ofhis wondrous powers as an alchymist, he has been mistaken for anotherRaymond, a Jew of Tarragona. Naudé, in his _Apologie_, says, simply, "thatsix millions were given by Raymond Lulli to King Edward, to make waragainst the Turks and other infidels:" not that he transmuted so muchmetal into gold; but, as he afterwards adds, that he advised Edward to laya tax upon wool, which produced that amount. To shew that Raymond went toEngland, his admirers quote a work attributed to him, _De TransmutationeAnimæ Metallorum_, in which he expressly says that he was in England atthe intercession of the king. [34] The hermetic writers are not agreedwhether it was Edward I. Or Edward II. Who invited him over; but, byfixing the date of his journey in 1312, they make it appear that it wasEdward II. Edmond Dickenson, in his work on the _Quintessences of thePhilosophers_, says, that Raymond worked in Westminster Abbey, where, along time after his departure, there was found in the cell which he hadoccupied a great quantity of golden dust, of which the architects made agreat profit. In the biographical sketch of John Cremer, Abbot ofWestminster, given by Lenglet, it is said that it was chiefly through hisinstrumentality that Raymond came to England. Cremer had been himself forthirty years occupied in the vain search for the philosopher's stone, whenhe accidentally met Raymond in Italy, and endeavoured to induce him tocommunicate his grand secret. Raymond told him that he must find it forhimself, as all great alchymists had done before him. Cremer, on hisreturn to England, spoke to King Edward in high terms of the wonderfulattainments of the philosopher, and a letter of invitation was forthwithsent him. Robert Constantinus, in the _Nomenclator Scriptorum Medicorum_, published in 1515, says, that after a great deal of research, he foundthat Raymond Lulli resided for some time in London, and that he actuallymade gold, by means of the philosopher's stone, in the Tower; that he hadseen the golden pieces of his coinage, which were still named in Englandthe nobles of Raymond, or rose-nobles. Lulli himself appears to haveboasted that he made gold; for, in his well-known _Testamentum_, he statesthat he converted no less than fifty thousand pounds weight ofquicksilver, lead, and pewter into that metal. [35] It seems highlyprobable that the English king, believing in the extraordinary powers ofthe alchymist, invited him to England to make test of them, and that hewas employed in refining gold and in coining. Camden, who is not credulousin matters like these, affords his countenance to the story of his coinageof nobles; and there is nothing at all wonderful in the fact of a manfamous for his knowledge of metals being employed in such a capacity. Raymond was, at this time, an old man, in his seventy-seventh year, andsomewhat in his dotage. He was willing enough to have it believed that hehad discovered the grand secret, and supported the rumour rather thancontradicted it. He did not long remain in England, but returned to Rometo carry out the projects which were nearer to his heart than theprofession of alchymy. He had proposed them to several successive popeswith little or no success. The first was a plan for the introduction ofthe oriental languages into all the monasteries of Europe; the second, forthe reduction into one of all the military orders, that, being united, they might move more efficaciously against the Saracens; and the third, that the sovereign pontiff should forbid the works of Averroes to be readin the schools, as being more favourable to Mahometanism than toChristianity. The pope did not receive the old man with much cordiality;and, after remaining for about two years in Rome, he proceeded once moreto Africa, alone and unprotected, to preach the Gospel of Jesus. He landedat Bona in 1314, and so irritated the Mahometans by cursing their prophet, that they stoned him, and left him for dead on the sea-shore. He was foundsome hours afterwards by a party of Genoese merchants, who conveyed him onboard their vessel, and sailed towards Majorca. The unfortunate man stillbreathed, but could not articulate. He lingered in this state for somedays, and expired just as the vessel arrived within sight of his nativeshores. His body was conveyed with great pomp to the church of St. Eulalia, at Palma, where a public funeral was instituted in his honour. Miracles were afterwards said to have been worked at his tomb. 

 [34] Vidimus omnia ista _dum ad Angliam transiimus, propter intercessionem domini Regis Edoardi illustrissimi_. 

 [35] Converti una vice in aurum ad L millia pondo argenti vivi, plumbi, et stanni. --_Lullii Testamentum_. 

Thus ended the career of Raymond Lulli, one of the most extraordinary menof his age; and, with the exception of his last boast about the sixmillions of gold, the least inclined to quackery of any of the professorsof alchymy. His writings were very numerous, and include nearly fivehundred volumes, upon grammar, rhetoric, morals, theology, politics, civiland canon law, physics, metaphysics, astronomy, medicine, and chemistry. 

ROGER BACON. 

The powerful delusion of alchymy seized upon a mind still greater thanthat of Raymond Lulli. Roger Bacon firmly believed in the philosopher'sstone, and spent much of his time in search of it. His example helped torender all the learned men of the time more convinced of itspracticability, and more eager in the pursuit. He was born at Ilchester, in the county of Somerset, in the year 1214. He studied for some time inthe University of Oxford, and afterwards in that of Paris, in which hereceived the degree of doctor of divinity. Returning to England in 1240, he became a monk of the order of St. Francis. He was by far the mostlearned man of his age; and his acquirements were so much above thecomprehension of his contemporaries, that they could only account for themby supposing that he was indebted for them to the devil. Voltaire has notinaptly designated him "De l'or encrouté de toutes les ordures de sonsiècle;" but the crust of superstition that enveloped his powerful mind, though it may have dimmed, could not obscure the brightness of his genius. To him, and apparently to him only, among all the inquiring spirits of thetime, were known the properties of the concave and convex lens. He alsoinvented the magic lantern; that pretty plaything of modern days, whichacquired for him a reputation that embittered his life. In a history ofalchymy, the name of this great man cannot be omitted, although unlikemany others of whom we shall have occasion to speak, he only made itsecondary to other pursuits. The love of universal knowledge that filledhis mind, would not allow him to neglect one branch of science, of whichneither he nor the world could yet see the absurdity. He made ample amendsfor his time lost in this pursuit by his knowledge in physics and hisacquaintance with astronomy. The telescope, burning-glasses, andgunpowder, are discoveries which may well carry his fame to the remotesttime, and make the world blind to the one spot of folly--the diagnosis ofthe age in which he lived, and the circumstances by which he wassurrounded. His treatise on the _Admirable Power of Art and Nature in theProduction of the Philosopher's Stone_ was translated into French byGirard de Tormes, and published at Lyons in 1557. His _Mirror of Alchymy_was also published in French in the same year, and in Paris in 1612, withsome additions from the works of Raymond Lulli. A complete list of all thepublished treatises upon the subject may be seen in Lenglet du Fresnoy. 

POPE JOHN XXII. 

This prelate is said to have been the friend and pupil of Arnold deVilleneuve, by whom he was instructed in all the secrets of alchymy. Tradition asserts of him, that he made great quantities of gold, and diedas rich as Croesus. He was born at Cahors, in the province of Guienne, inthe year 1244. He was a very eloquent preacher, and soon reached highdignity in the Church. He wrote a work on the transmutation of metals, andhad a famous laboratory at Avignon. He issued two bulls against thenumerous pretenders to the art, who had sprung up in every part ofChristendom; from which it might be inferred that he was himself free fromthe delusion. The alchymists claim him, however, as one of the mostdistinguished and successful professors of their art, and say that hisbulls were not directed against the real adepts, but the false pretenders. They lay particular stress upon these words in his bull, "Spondent, quasnon exhibent, divitias, _pauperes_ alchymistæ. " These, it is clear, theysay, relate only to _poor_ alchymists, and therefore false ones. He diedin the year 1344, leaving in his coffers a sum of eighteen millions offlorins. Popular belief alleged that he had made, and not amassed, thistreasure; and alchymists complacently cite this as a proof that thephilosopher's stone was not such a chimera as the incredulous pretended. They take it for granted that John really left this money, and ask by whatpossible means he could have accumulated it. Replying to their ownquestion, they say triumphantly, "His book shews it was by alchymy, thesecrets of which he learned from Arnold de Villeneuve and Raymond Lulli. But he was as prudent as all other hermetic philosophers. Whoever wouldread his book to find out his secret, would employ all his labour in vain;the pope took good care not to divulge it. " Unluckily for their owncredit, all these gold-makers are in the same predicament; their greatsecret loses its worth most wonderfully in the telling, and therefore theykeep it snugly to themselves. Perhaps they thought that, if everybodycould transmute metals, gold would be so plentiful that it would be nolonger valuable, and that some new art would be requisite to transmute itback again into steel and iron. If so, society is much indebted to themfor their forbearance. 

JEAN DE MEUNG. 

All classes of men dabbled in the art at this time; the last mentioned wasa pope, the one of whom we now speak was a poet. Jean de Meung, thecelebrated author of the _Roman de la Rose_, was born in the year 1279 or1280, and was a great personage at the courts of Louis X. , Philip theLong, Charles IV. , and Philip de Valois. His famous poem of the _Roman dela Rose_, which treats of every subject in vogue at that day, necessarilymakes great mention of alchymy. Jean was a firm believer in the art, andwrote, besides his Roman, two shorter poems, the one entitled _TheRemonstrance of Nature to the wandering Alchymist_ and _The Reply of theAlchymist to Nature_. Poetry and alchymy were his delight, and priests andwomen were his abomination. A pleasant story is related of him and theladies of the court of Charles IV. He had written the following libellouscouplet upon the fair sex:

 "Toutes êtes, serez, ou fûtes, De fait ou de volonté, putains; Et qui très bien vous chercherait, Toutes putains vous trouverait. "[36]

 [36] These verses are but a coarser expression of the slanderous line of Pope, that "every woman is at heart a rake. "

This naturally gave great offence; and being perceived one day in theking's antechamber, by some ladies who were waiting for an audience, theyresolved to punish him. To the number of ten or twelve, they armedthemselves with canes and rods, and surrounding the unlucky poet, calledupon the gentlemen present to strip him naked, that they might wreak justvengeance upon him, and lash him through the streets of the town. Some ofthe lords present were in no wise loath, and promised themselves greatsport from his punishment. But Jean de Meung was unmoved by their threats, and stood up calmly in the midst of them, begging them to hear him first, and then, if not satisfied, they might do as they liked with him. Silencebeing restored, he stood upon a chair, and entered on his defence. Heacknowledged that he was the author of the obnoxious verses, but deniedthat they bore reference to all womankind. He only meant to speak of thevicious and abandoned, whereas those whom he saw around him were patternsof virtue, loveliness, and modesty. If, however, any lady present thoughtherself aggrieved, he would consent to be stripped, and she might lash himtill her arms were wearied. It is added, that by this means Jean escapedhis flogging, and that the wrath of the fair ones immediately subsided. The gentlemen present were, however, of opinion, that if every lady in theroom whose character corresponded with the verses had taken him at hisword; the poet would in all probability have been beaten to death. All hislife long he evinced a great animosity towards the priesthood, and hisfamous poem abounds with passages reflecting upon their avarice, cruelty, and immorality. At his death he left a large box, filled with some weightymaterial, which he bequeathed to the Cordeliers, as a peace-offering, forthe abuse he had lavished upon them. As his practice of alchymy was wellknown, it was thought the box was filled with gold and silver, and theCordeliers congratulated each other on their rich acquisition. When itcame to be opened, they found to their horror that it was filled only with_slates_, scratched with hieroglyphic and cabalistic characters. Indignantat the insult, they determined to refuse him Christian burial, on pretencethat he was a sorcerer. He was, however, honourably buried in Paris, thewhole court attending his funeral. 

NICHOLAS FLAMEL. 

The story of this alchymist, as handed down by tradition, and enshrined inthe pages of Lenglet da Fresnoy, is not a little marvellous. He was bornat Pontoise, of a poor but respectable family, at the end of thethirteenth, or beginning of the fourteenth century. Having no patrimony, he set out for Paris at an early age, to try his fortune as a publicscribe. He had received a good education, was well skilled in the learnedlanguages, and was an excellent penman. He soon procured occupation as aletter-writer and copyist, and used to sit at the corner of the Rue deMarivaux, and practise his calling; but he hardly made profit enough tokeep body and soul together. To mend his fortunes he tried poetry; butthis was a more wretched occupation still. As a transcriber he had atleast gained bread and cheese; but his rhymes were not worth a crust. Hethen tried painting with as little success; and as a last resource, beganto search for the philosopher's stone and tell fortunes. This was ahappier idea; he soon increased in substance, and had wherewithal to livecomfortably. He therefore took unto himself his wife Petronella, and beganto save money; but continued to all outward appearance as poor andmiserable as before. In the course of a few years, he became desperatelyaddicted to the study of alchymy, and thought of nothing but thephilosopher's stone, the elixir of life, and the universal alkahest. Inthe year 1257, he bought by chance an old book for two florins, which soonbecame his sole study. It was written with a steel instrument upon thebark of trees, and contained twenty-one, or as he himself always expressedit, three times seven, leaves. The writing was very elegant and in theLatin language. Each seventh leaf contained a picture and no writing. Onthe first of these was a serpent swallowing rods; on the second, a crosswith a serpent crucified; and on the third, the representation of adesert, in the midst of which was a fountain, with serpents crawling fromside to side. It purported to be written by no less a personage than"Abraham, patriarch, Jew, prince, philosopher, priest, Levite, andastrologer;" and invoked curses upon any one who should cast eyes upon it, without being "a sacrificer or a scribe. " Nicholas Flamel never thought itextraordinary that Abraham should have known Latin, and was convinced thatthe characters on his book had been traced by the hands of that greatpatriarch himself. He was at first afraid to read it, after he becameaware of the curse it contained; but he got over that difficulty byrecollecting that, although he was not a sacrificer, he had practised as ascribe. As he read he was filled with admiration, and found that it was aperfect treatise upon the transmutation of metals. All the processes wereclearly explained; the vessels, the retorts, the mixtures, and the propertimes and seasons for experiment. But as ill-luck would have it, thepossession of the philosopher's stone, or prime agent in the work, waspresupposed. This was a difficulty which was not to be got over. It waslike telling a starving man how to cook a beef-steak, instead of givinghim the money to buy one. But Nicholas did not despair, and set aboutstudying the hieroglyphics and allegorical representations with which thebook abounded. He soon convinced himself that it had been one of thesacred books of the Jews, and that it was taken from the temple ofJerusalem on its destruction by Titus. The process of reasoning by whichhe arrived at this conclusion is not stated. 

From some expression in the treatise, he learned that the allegoricaldrawings on the fourth and fifth leaves enshrined the secret of thephilosopher's stone, without which all the fine Latin of the directionswas utterly unavailing. He invited all the alchymists and learned men ofParis to come and examine them, but they all departed as wise as theycame. Nobody could make any thing either of Nicholas or his pictures; andsome even went so far as to say that his invaluable book was not worth afarthing. This was not to be borne; and Nicholas resolved to discover thegreat secret by himself, without troubling the philosophers. He found onthe first page of the fourth leaf, the picture of Mercury attacked by anold man resembling Saturn or Time. The latter had an hour-glass on hishead, and in his hand a scythe, with which he aimed a blow at Mercury'sfeet. The reverse of the leaf represented a flower growing on a mountaintop, shaken rudely by the wind, with a blue stalk, red and white blossoms, and leaves of pure gold. Around it were a great number of dragons andgriffins. On the first page of the fifth leaf was a fine garden, in themidst of which was a rose-tree in full bloom, supported against the trunkof a gigantic oak. At the foot of this there bubbled up a fountain ofmilk-white water, which, forming a small stream, flowed through thegarden, and was afterwards lost in the sands. On the second page was aking, with a sword in his hand, superintending a number of soldiers, who, in execution of his orders, were killing a great multitude of youngchildren, spurning the prayers and tears of their mothers, who tried tosave them from destruction. The blood of the children was carefullycollected by another party of soldiers, and put into a large vessel, inwhich two allegorical figures of the sun and moon were bathing themselves. 

For twenty-one years poor Nicholas wearied himself with the study of thesepictures, but still he could make nothing of them. His wife Petronella atlast persuaded him to find out some learned rabbi; but there was no rabbiin Paris learned enough to be of any service to him. The Jews met butsmall encouragement to fix their abode in France, and all the chiefs ofthat people were located in Spain. To Spain accordingly Nicholas Flamelrepaired. He left his book in Paris, for fear, perhaps, that he might berobbed of it on the road; and telling his neighbours that he was going ona pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James of Compostello, he trudged on foottowards Madrid in search of a rabbi. He was absent two years in thatcountry, and made himself known to a great number of Jews, descendants ofthose who had been expelled from France in the reign of Philip Augustus. The believers in the philosopher's stone give the following account of hisadventures: They say that at Leon he made the acquaintance of a convertedJew, named Cauches, a very learned physician, to whom he explained thetitle and nature of his little book. The doctor was transported with joyas soon as he heard it named, and immediately resolved to accompanyNicholas to Paris, that he might have a sight of it. The two set outtogether; the doctor on the way entertaining his companion with thehistory of his book, which, if the genuine book he thought it to be, fromthe description he had heard of it, was in the handwriting of Abrahamhimself, and had been in the possession of personages no lessdistinguished than Moses, Joshua, Solomon, and Esdras. It contained allthe secrets of alchymy and of many other sciences, and was the mostvaluable book that had ever existed in this world. The doctor was himselfno mean adept, and Nicholas profited greatly by his discourse, as in thegarb of poor pilgrims they wended their way to Paris, convinced of theirpower to turn every old shovel in that capital into pure gold. But, unfortunately, when they reached Orleans, the doctor was taken dangerouslyill. Nicholas watched by his bedside, and acted the double part of aphysician and nurse to him; but he died after a few days, lamenting withhis last breath that he had not lived long enough to see the preciousvolume. Nicholas rendered the last honours to his body; and with asorrowful heart, and not one _sou_ in his pocket, proceeded home to hiswife Petronella. He immediately recommenced the study of his pictures; butfor two whole years he was as far from understanding them as ever. Atlast, in the third year, a glimmer of light stole over his understanding. He recalled some expression of his friend the doctor, which had hithertoescaped his memory, and he found that all his previous experiments hadbeen conducted on a wrong basis. He recommenced them now with renewedenergy, and at the end of the year had the satisfaction to see all histoils rewarded. On the 13th January 1382, says Lenglet, he made aprojection on mercury, and had some very excellent silver. On the 25thApril following, he converted a large quantity of mercury into gold, andthe great secret was his. 

Nicholas was now about eighty years of age, and still a hale and stout oldman. His friends say that by a simultaneous discovery of the elixir oflife, he found means to keep death at a distance for another quarter of acentury; and that he died in 1415, at the age of 116. In this interval hemade immense quantities of gold, though to all outward appearance he wasas poor as a mouse. At an early period of his changed fortune, he had, like a worthy man, taken counsel with his old wife Petronella, as to thebest use he could make of his wealth. Petronella replied, that asunfortunately they had no children, the best thing he could do, was tobuild hospitals and endow churches. Nicholas thought so too, especiallywhen he began to find that his elixir could not keep off death, and thatthe grim foe was making rapid advances upon him. He richly endowed thechurch of St. Jacques de la Boucherie, near the Rue de Marivaux, where hehad all his life resided, besides seven others in different parts of thekingdom. He also endowed fourteen hospitals, and built three chapels. 

The fame of his great wealth and his munificent benefactions soon spreadover all the country, and he was visited, among others, by the celebrateddoctors of that day, Jean Gerson, Jean de Courtecuisse, and Pierred'Ailli. They found him in his humble apartment, meanly clad, and eatingporridge out of an earthen vessel; and with regard to his secret, asimpenetrable as all his predecessors in alchymy. His fame reached the earsof the king, Charles VI. , who sent M. De Cramoisi, the Master of Requests, to find out whether Nicholas had indeed discovered the philosopher'sstone. But M. De Cramoisi took nothing by his visit; all his attempts tosound the alchymist were unavailing, and he returned to his royal masterno wiser than he came. It was in this year, 1414, that he lost hisfaithful Petronella. He did not long survive her, but died in thefollowing year, and was buried with great pomp by the grateful priests ofSt. Jacques de la Boucherie. 

The great wealth of Nicholas Flamel is undoubted, as the records ofseveral churches and hospitals in France can testify. That he practisedalchymy is equally certain, as he left behind several works upon thesubject. Those who knew him well, and who were incredulous about thephilosopher's stone, give a satisfactory solution of the secret of hiswealth. They say that he was always a miser and a usurer; that his journeyto Spain was undertaken with very different motives from those pretendedby the alchymists; that, in fact, he went to collect debts due from Jewsin that country to their brethren in Paris, and that he charged acommission of fully cent per cent in consideration of the difficulty ofcollecting and the dangers of the road; that when he possessed thousands, he lived upon almost nothing; and was the general money-lender, atenormous profits, to all the dissipated young men at the French court. 

Among the works written by Nicholas Flamel on the subject of alchymy is_The Philosophic Summary_, a poem, reprinted in 1735, as an appendix tothe third volume of the _Roman de la Rose_. He also wrote three treatisesupon natural philosophy, and an alchymic allegory, entitled _Le Désirdésiré_. Specimens of his writing, and a fac-simile of the drawings in hisbook of Abraham, may be seen in Salmon's _Bibliothèque des PhilosophesChimiques_. The writer of the article _Flamel_ in the _BiographieUniverselle_ says, that for a hundred years after the death of Flamel, many of the adepts believed that he was still alive, and that he wouldlive for upwards of six hundred years. The house he formerly occupied, atthe corner of the Rue de Marivaux, has been often taken by credulousspeculators, and ransacked from top to bottom, in the hopes that goldmight be found. A report was current in Paris, not long previous to theyear 1816, that some lodgers had found in the cellars several jars filledwith a dark-coloured ponderous matter. Upon the strength of the rumour, abeliever in all the wondrous tales told of Nicholas Flamel bought thehouse, and nearly pulled it to pieces in ransacking the walls andwainscoting for hidden gold. He got nothing for his pains, however, andhad a heavy bill to pay to restore his dilapidations. 

GEORGE RIPLEY. 

While alchymy was thus cultivated on the continent of Europe, it was notneglected in the isles of Britain. Since the time of Roger Bacon, it hadfascinated the imagination of many ardent men in England. In the year 1404an act of parliament was passed declaring the making of gold and silver tobe felony. Great alarm was felt at that time lest any alchymist shouldsucceed in his projects, and perhaps bring ruin upon the state byfurnishing boundless wealth to some designing tyrant, who would make useof it to enslave his country. This alarm appears to have soon subsided;for, in the year 1455, King Henry VI. , by advice of his council andparliament, granted four successive patents and commissions to severalknights, citizens of London, chemists, monks, mass-priests, and others, tofind out the philosopher's stone and elixir, "to the great benefit, " saidthe patent, "of the realm, and the enabling of the king to pay all thedebts of the crown in real gold and silver. " Prinn, in his _Aurum Reginæ_, observes, as a note to this passage, that the king's reason for grantingthis patent to ecclesiastics was, that "they were such good artists intransubstantiating bread and wine in the eucharist, and therefore the morelikely to be able to effect the transmutation of baser metals intobetter. " No gold, of course, was ever made; and next year the king, doubting very much of the practicability of the thing, took furtheradvice, and appointed a commission of ten learned men and persons ofeminence to judge and certify to him whether the transmutation of metalswere a thing practicable or no. It does not appear whether the commissionever made any report upon the subject. 

In the succeeding reign an alchymist appeared who pretended to havediscovered the secret. This was George Ripley, the canon of Bridlington, in Yorkshire. He studied for twenty years in the universities of Italy, and was a great favourite with Pope Innocent VIII. , who made him one ofhis domestic chaplains, and master of the ceremonies in his household. Returning to England in 1477, he dedicated to King Edward IV. His famouswork, _The Compound of Alchymy_; or, _the Twelve Gates leading to theDiscovery of the Philosopher's Stone_. These gates he described to becalcination, solution, separation, conjunction, putrefaction, congelation, cibation, sublimation, fermentation, exaltation, multiplication, andprojection; to which he might have added botheration, the most importantprocess of all. He was very rich, and allowed it to be believed that hecould make gold out of iron. Fuller, in his _Worthies of England_, saysthat an English gentleman of good credit reported, that in his travelsabroad he saw a record in the island of Malta which declared that Ripleygave yearly to the knights of that island, and of Rhodes, the enormous sumof one hundred thousand pounds sterling to enable them to carry on the waragainst the Turks. In his old age he became an anchorite near Boston, andwrote twenty-five volumes upon the subject of alchymy, the most importantof which is the _Duodecim Portarum_ already mentioned. Before he died, heseems to have acknowledged that he had mis-spent his life in this vainstudy, and requested that all men, when they met with any of his books, would burn them, or afford them no credit, as they had been written merelyfrom his opinion, and not from proof; and that subsequent trial had mademanifest to him that they were false and vain. [37]

 [37] Fuller's _Worthies of England_. 

BASIL VALENTINE. 

Germany also produced many famous alchymists in the fifteenth century, thechief of whom are Basil Valentine, Bernard of Trèves, and the AbbotTrithemius. Basil Valentine was born at Mayence, and was made prior of St. Peter's, at Erfurt, about the year 1414. It was known, during his life, that he diligently sought the philosopher's stone, and that he had writtensome works upon the process of transmutation. They were thought for manyyears to be lost, but were, after his death, discovered enclosed in thestone-work of one of the pillars in the Abbey. They were twenty-one innumber, and are fully set forth in the third volume of Lenglet's _Historyof the Hermetic Philosophy_. The alchymists asserted that heaven itselfconspired to bring to light these extraordinary works; and that the pillarin which they were enclosed was miraculously shattered by a thunderbolt;and that as soon as the manuscripts were liberated, the pillar closed upagain of its own accord!

BERNARD OF TREVES. 

The life of this philosopher is a remarkable instance of talent andperseverance misapplied. In the search of his chimera nothing could daunthim. Repeated disappointment never diminished his hopes; and from the ageof fourteen to that of eighty-five he was incessantly employed among thedrugs and furnaces of his laboratory, wasting his life with the view ofprolonging it, and reducing himself to beggary in the hopes of growingrich. 

He was born at either Trèves or Padua in the year 1406. His father is saidby some to have been a physician in the latter city, and by others to havebeen Count of the Marches of Trèves, and one of the most wealthy nobles ofhis country. At all events, whether noble or physician, he was a rich man, and left his son a magnificent estate. At the age of fourteen he firstbecame enamoured of the science of alchymy, and read the Arabian authorsin their own language. He himself has left a most interesting record ofhis labours and wanderings, from which the following particulars arechiefly extracted. The first book which fell into his hands was that ofthe Arabian philosopher Rhazes, from the reading of which he imagined thathe had discovered the means of augmenting gold a hundredfold. For fouryears he worked in his laboratory, with the book of Rhazes continuallybefore him. At the end of that time, he found that he had spent no lessthan eight hundred crowns upon his experiment, and had got nothing butfire and smoke for his pains. He now began to lose confidence in Rhazes, and turned to the works of Geber. He studied him assiduously for twoyears; and being young, rich, and credulous, Was beset by all thealchymists of the town, who kindly assisted him in spending his money. Hedid not lose his faith in Geber, or patience with his hungry assistants, until he had lost two thousand crowns--a very considerable sum in thosedays. 

Among all the crowd of pretended men of science who surrounded him, therewas but one as enthusiastic and as disinterested as himself. With thisman, who was a monk of the order of St. Francis, he contracted an intimatefriendship, and spent nearly all his time. Some obscure treatises ofRupecissa and Sacrobosco having fallen into their hands, they werepersuaded, from reading them, that highly rectified spirits of wine wasthe universal alkahest, or dissolvent, which would aid them greatly in theprocess of transmutation. They rectified the alcohol thirty times, tillthey made it so strong as to burst the vessels which contained it. Afterthey had worked three years, and spent three hundred crowns in the liquor, they discovered that they were on the wrong track. They next tried alumand copperas; but the great secret still escaped them. They afterwardsimagined that there was a marvellous virtue in all excrement, especiallythe human, and actually employed more than two years in experimentalisingupon it with mercury, salt, and molten lead! Again the adepts flockedaround him from far and near to aid him with their counsels. He receivedthem all hospitably, and divided his wealth among them so generously andunhesitatingly, that they gave him the name of the "Good Trevisan, " bywhich he is still often mentioned in works that treat on alchymy. Fortwelve years he led this life, making experiments every day upon some newsubstance, and praying to God night and morning that he might discover thesecret of transmutation. 

In this interval he lost his friend the monk, and was joined by amagistrate of the city of Trèves, as ardent as himself in the search. Hisnew acquaintance imagined that the ocean was the mother of gold, and thatsea-salt would change lead or iron into the precious metals. Bernardresolved to try; and, transporting his laboratory to a house on the shoresof the Baltic, he worked upon salt for more than a year, melting it, sublimating it, crystallising it, and occasionally drinking it, for thesake of other experiments. Still the strange enthusiast was not whollydiscouraged, and his failure in one trial only made him the more anxiousto attempt another. 

He was now approaching the age of fifty, and had as yet seen nothing ofthe world. He therefore determined to travel through Germany, Italy, France, and Spain. Wherever he stopped he made inquiries whether therewere any alchymists in the neighbourhood. He invariably sought them out;and if they were poor, relieved, and if affluent, encouraged them. AtCiteaux he became acquainted with one Geoffrey Leuvier, a monk of thatplace, who persuaded him that the essence of egg-shells was a valuableingredient. He tried, therefore, what could be done; and was onlyprevented from wasting a year or two on the experiment by the opinions ofan attorney, at Berghem, in Flanders, who said that the great secretresided in vinegar and copperas. He was not convinced of the absurdity ofthis idea until he had nearly poisoned himself. He resided in France forabout five years, when, hearing accidentally that one Master Henry, confessor to the Emperor Frederic III. , had discovered the philosopher'sstone, he set out for Germany to pay him a visit. He had, as usual, surrounded himself with a set of hungry dependants, several of whomdetermined to accompany him. He had not heart to refuse them, and hearrived at Vienna with five of them. Bernard sent a polite invitation tothe confessor, and gave him a sumptuous entertainment, at which werepresent nearly all the alchymists of Vienna. Master Henry franklyconfessed that he had not discovered the philosopher's stone, but that hehad all his life been employed in searching for it, and would so continuetill he found it, or died. This was a man after Bernard's own heart, andthey vowed with each other an eternal friendship. It was resolved, atsupper, that each alchymist present should contribute a certain sumtowards raising forty-two marks of gold, which, in five days, it wasconfidently asserted by Master Henry, would increase, in his furnace, fivefold. Bernard, being the richest man, contributed the lion's share, ten marks of gold, Master Henry five, and the others one or two a-piece, except the dependants of Bernard, who were obliged to borrow their quotafrom their patron. The grand experiment was duly made; the golden markswere put into a crucible, with a quantity of salt, copperas, aquafortis, egg-shells, mercury, lead, and dung. The alchymists watched this preciousmess with intense interest, expecting that it would agglomerate into onelump of pure gold. At the end of three weeks they gave up the trial, uponsome excuse that the crucible was not strong enough, or that somenecessary ingredient was wanting. Whether any thief had put his hands intothe crucible is not known, but it is alleged that the gold found thereinat the close of the experiment was worth only sixteen marks, instead ofthe forty-two, which were put there at the beginning. 

Bernard, though he made no gold at Vienna, made away with a veryconsiderable quantity. He felt the loss so acutely, that he vowed to thinkno more of the philosopher's stone. This wise resolution he kept for twomonths; but he was miserable. He was in the condition of the gambler, whocannot resist the fascination of the game while he has a coin remaining, but plays on with the hope of retrieving former losses, till hope forsakeshim, and he can live no longer. He returned once more to his belovedcrucibles, and resolved to prosecute his journey in search of aphilosopher who had discovered the secret, and would communicate it to sozealous and persevering an adept as himself. From Vienna he travelled toRome, and from Rome to Madrid. Taking ship at Gibraltar, he proceeded toMessina; from Messina to Cyprus; from Cyprus to Greece; from Greece toConstantinople; and thence into Egypt, Palestine, and Persia. Thesewanderings occupied him about eight years. From Persia he made his wayback to Messina, and from thence into France. He afterwards passed overinto England, still in search of his great chimera; and this occupied fouryears more of his life. He was now growing both old and poor; for he wassixty-two years of age, and had been obliged to sell a great portion ofhis patrimony to provide for his expenses. His journey to Persia had costupwards of thirteen thousand crowns, about one-half of which had beenfairly melted in his all-devouring furnaces; the other half was lavishedupon the sycophants that he made it his business to search out in everytown he stopped at. 

On his return to Trèves he found, to his sorrow, that, if not an actualbeggar, he was not much better. His relatives looked upon him as a madman, and refused even to see him. Too proud to ask for favours from any one, and still confident that, some day or other, he would be the possessor ofunbounded wealth, he made up his mind to retire to the island of Rhodes, where he might, in the mean time, hide his poverty from the eyes of theworld. Here he might have lived unknown and happy; but, as ill luck wouldhave it, he fell in with a monk as mad as himself upon the subject oftransmutation. They were, however, both so poor that they could not affordto buy the proper materials to work with. They kept up each other'sspirits by learned discourses on the hermetic philosophy, and in thereading of all the great authors who had written upon the subject. Thusdid they nurse their folly, as the good wife of Tam O'Shanter did herwrath, "to keep it warm. " After Bernard had resided about a year inRhodes, a merchant, who knew his family, advanced him the sum of eightthousand florins, upon the security of the last-remaining acres of hisformerly large estate. Once more provided with funds, he recommenced hislabours with all the zeal and enthusiasm of a young man. For three yearshe hardly stepped out of his laboratory: he ate there, and slept there, and did not even give himself time to wash his hands and clean his beard, so intense was his application. It is melancholy to think that suchwonderful perseverance should have been wasted in so vain a pursuit, andthat energies so unconquerable should have had no worthier field to strivein. Even when he had fumed away his last coin, and had nothing left inprospective to keep his old age from starvation, hope never forsook him. He still dreamed of ultimate success, and sat down a grey-headed man ofeighty, to read over all the authors on the hermetic mysteries, from Geberto his own day, lest he should have misunderstood some process, which itwas not yet too late to recommence. The alchymists say, that he succeededat last, and discovered the secret of transmutation in his eighty-secondyear. They add that he lived three years afterwards to enjoy his wealth. He lived, it is true, to this great age, and made a valuablediscovery--more valuable than gold or gems. He learned, as he himselfinforms us, just before he had attained his eighty-third year, that thegreat secret of philosophy was contentment with our lot. Happy would ithave been for him if he had discovered it sooner, and before he becamedecrepit, a beggar, and an exile!

He died at Rhodes, in the year 1490, and all the alchymists of Europe sangelegies over him, and sounded his praise as the "good Trevisan. " He wroteseveral treatises upon his chimera, the chief of which are, the _Book ofChemistry_, the _Verbum dimissum_, and an essay _De Natura Ovi_. 

TRITHEMIUS. 

The name of this eminent man has become famous in the annals of alchymy, although he did but little to gain so questionable an honour. He was bornin the year 1462, at the village of Trittheim, in the electorate ofTrèves. His father was John Heidenberg, a vine-grower, in easycircumstances, who, dying when his son was but seven years old, left himto the care of his mother. The latter married again very shortlyafterwards, and neglected the poor boy, the offspring of her firstmarriage. At the age of fifteen he did not even know his letters, and was, besides, half starved, and otherwise ill-treated by his step-father; butthe love of knowledge germinated in the breast of the unfortunate youth, and he learned to read at the house of a neighbour. His father-in-law sethim to work in the vineyards, and thus occupied all his days; but thenights were his own. He often stole out unheeded, when all the householdwere fast asleep, poring over his studies in the fields, by the light ofthe moon; and thus taught himself Latin and the rudiments of Greek. He wassubjected to so much ill-usage at home, in consequence of this love ofstudy, that he determined to leave it. Demanding the patrimony which hisfather had left him, he proceeded to Trèves; and assuming the name ofTrithemius, from that of his native village of Trittheim, lived there forsome months under the tuition of eminent masters, by whom he was preparedfor the university. At the age of twenty, he took it into his head that heshould like to see his mother once more; and he set out on foot from thedistant university for that purpose. On his arrival near Spannheim, latein the evening of a gloomy winter's day, it came on to snow so thickly, that he could not proceed onwards to the town. He therefore took refugefor the night in a neighbouring monastery; but the storm continued severaldays, the roads became impassable, and the hospitable monks would not hearof his departure. He was so pleased with them and their manner of life, that he suddenly resolved to fix his abode among them, and renounce theworld. They were no less pleased with him, and gladly received him as abrother. In the course of two years, although still so young, he wasunanimously elected their abbot. The financial affairs of theestablishment had been greatly neglected, the walls of the building werefalling into ruin, and every thing was in disorder. Trithemius, by hisgood management and regularity, introduced a reform in every branch ofexpenditure. The monastery was repaired, and a yearly surplus, instead ofa deficiency, rewarded him for his pains. He did not like to see the monksidle, or occupied solely between prayers for their business, and chess fortheir relaxation. He, therefore, set them to work to copy the writings ofeminent authors. They laboured so assiduously, that, in the course of afew years, their library, which had contained only about forty volumes, was enriched with several hundred valuable manuscripts, comprising many ofthe classical Latin authors, besides the works of the early fathers, andthe principal historians, and philosophers of more modern date. Heretained the dignity of Abbot of Spannheim for twenty-one years, when themonks, tired of the severe discipline he maintained, revolted against him, and chose another abbot in his place. He was afterwards made Abbot of St. James, in Wurzburg, where he died in 1516. 

During his learned leisure at Spannheim, he wrote several works upon theoccult sciences, the chief of which are an essay on geomancy, ordivination by means of lines and circles on the ground; another uponsorcery; a third upon alchymy; and a fourth upon the government of theworld by its presiding angels, which was translated into English, andpublished by the famous William Lilly in 1647. 

It has been alleged by the believers in the possibility of transmutation, that the prosperity of the abbey of Spannheim, while under hissuperintendence, was owing more to the philosopher's stone than to wiseeconomy. Trithemius, in common with many other learned men, has beenaccused of magic; and a marvellous story is told of his having raised fromthe grave the form of Mary of Burgundy, at the intercession of her widowedhusband, the Emperor Maximilian. His work on steganographia, or cabalisticwriting, was denounced to the Count Palatine, Frederic II. , as magical anddevilish; and it was by him taken from the shelves of his library andthrown into the fire. Trithemius is said to be the first writer who makesmention of the wonderful story of the devil and Dr. Faustus, the truth ofwhich he firmly believed. He also recounts the freaks of a spirit named_Hudekin_, by whom he was at times tormented. [38]

 [38] _Biographie Universelle. _

THE MARECHAL DE RAYS. 

One of the greatest encouragers of alchymy in the fifteenth century wasGilles de Laval, Lord of Rays and a Marshal of France. His name and deedsare little known; but in the annals of crime and folly, they might claimthe highest and worst pre-eminence. Fiction has never invented any thingwilder or more horrible than his career; and were not the details but toowell authenticated by legal and other documents which admit no doubt, thelover of romance might easily imagine they were drawn to please him fromthe stores of the prolific brain, and not from the page of history. 

He was born about the year 1420, of one of the noblest families ofBrittany. His father dying when Gilles had attained his twentieth year, hecame into uncontrolled possession, at that early age, of a fortune whichthe monarchs of France might have envied him. He was a near kinsman of theMontmorencys, the Roncys, and the Craons; possessed fifteen princelydomains, and had an annual revenue of about three hundred thousand livres. Besides this, he was handsome, learned, and brave. He distinguishedhimself greatly in the wars of Charles VII. , and was rewarded by thatmonarch with the dignity of a marshal of France. But he was extravagantand magnificent in his style of living, and accustomed from his earliestyears to the gratification of every wish and passion; and this, at last, led him from vice to vice and from crime to crime, till a blacker namethan his is not to be found in any record of human iniquity. 

In his castle of Champtocé he lived with all the splendour of an easterncaliph. He kept up a troop of two hundred horsemen to accompany himwherever he went; and his excursions for the purposes of hawking andhunting were the wonder of all the country around, so magnificent were thecaparisons of his steeds and the dresses of his retainers. Day and nighthis castle was open all the year round to comers of every degree. He madeit a rule to regale even the poorest beggar with wine and hippocrass. Every day an ox was roasted whole in his spacious kitchens, besides sheep, pigs, and poultry sufficient to feed five hundred persons. He was equallymagnificent in his devotions. His private chapel at Champtocé was the mostbeautiful in France, and far surpassed any of those in the richly-endowedcathedrals of Notre Dame in Paris, of Amiens, of Beauvais, or of Rouen. Itwas hung with cloth of gold and rich velvet. All the chandeliers were ofpure gold curiously inlaid with silver. The great crucifix over the altarwas of solid silver, and the chalices and incense-burners were of puregold. He had besides a fine organ, which he caused to be carried from onecastle to another on the shoulders of six men, whenever he changed hisresidence. He kept up a choir of twenty-five young children of both sexes, who were instructed in singing by the first musicians of the day. Themaster of his chapel he called a bishop, who had under him his deans, arch-deacons, and vicars, each receiving great salaries; the bishop fourhundred crowns a year, and the rest in proportion. 

He also maintained a whole troop of players, including ten dancing girlsand as many ballad-singers, besides morris-dancers, jugglers, andmountebanks of every description. The theatre on which they performed wasfitted up without any regard to expense, and they played mysteries ordanced the morris-dance every evening for the amusement of himself andhousehold, and such strangers as were sharing his prodigal hospitality. 

At the age of twenty-three he married Catherine, the wealthy heiress ofthe house of Touars, for whom he refurnished his castle at an expense of ahundred thousand crowns. His marriage was the signal for new extravagance, and he launched out more madly than ever he had done before; sending forfine singers or celebrated dancers from foreign countries to amuse him andhis spouse; and instituting tilts and tournaments in his great court-yardalmost every week for all the knights and nobles of the province ofBrittany. The Duke of Brittany's court was not half so splendid as that ofthe Maréchal de Rays. His utter disregard for wealth was so well known, that he was made to pay three times its value for every thing hepurchased. His castle was filled with needy parasites and panderers to hispleasures, amongst whom he lavished rewards with an unsparing hand. Butthe ordinary round of sensual gratification ceased at last to afford himdelight; he was observed to be more abstemious in the pleasures of thetable, and to neglect the beauteous dancing girls who used formerly tooccupy so much of his attention. He was sometimes gloomy and reserved, andthere was an unnatural wildness in his eye which gave indications ofincipient madness. Still his discourse was as reasonable as ever, hisurbanity to the guests that flocked from far and near to Champtocésuffered no diminution; and learned priests, when they conversed with him, thought to themselves that few of the nobles of France were so wellinformed as Gilles de Laval. But dark rumours spread gradually over thecountry; murder, and, if possible, still more atrocious deeds were hintedat; and it was remarked that many young children of both sexes suddenlydisappeared, and were never afterwards heard of. One or two had beentraced to the castle of Champtocé, and had never been seen to leave it;but no one dared to accuse openly so powerful a man as the Maréchal deRays. Whenever the subject of the lost children was mentioned in hispresence, he manifested the greatest astonishment at the mystery whichinvolved their fate, and indignation against those who might be guilty ofkidnapping them. Still the world was not wholly deceived; his name becameas formidable to young children as that of the devouring ogre in fairytales, and they were taught to go miles round, rather than pass under theturrets of Champtocé. 

In the course of a few years, the reckless extravagance of the marshaldrained him of all his funds, and he was obliged to put up some of hisestates for sale. The Duke of Brittany entered into a treaty with him forthe valuable seignory of Ingrande; but the heirs of Gilles implored theinterference of Charles VII. To stay the sale. Charles immediately issuedan edict, which was confirmed by the provincial Parliament of Brittany, forbidding him to alienate his paternal estates. Gilles had no alternativebut to submit. He had nothing to support his extravagance but hisallowance as a marshal of France, which did not cover the one-tenth of hisexpenses. A man of his habits and character could not retrench hiswasteful expenditure, and live reasonably; he could not dismiss without apang his horsemen, his jesters, his morris-dancers, his choristers, andhis parasites, or confine his hospitality to those who really needed it. Notwithstanding his diminished resources, he resolved to live as he hadlived before, and turn alchymist, that he might make gold out of iron, andbe still the wealthiest and most magnificent among the nobles of Brittany. 

In pursuance of this determination, he sent to Paris, Italy, Germany, andSpain, inviting all the adepts in the science to visit him at Champtocé. The messengers he despatched on this mission were two of his most needyand unprincipled dependants, Gilles de Sillé and Roger de Bricqueville. The latter, the obsequious panderer to his most secret and abominablepleasures, he had entrusted with the education of his motherless daughter, a child but five years of age, with permission that he might marry her atthe proper time to any person he chose, or to himself if he liked itbetter. This man entered into the new plans of his master with great zeal, and introduced to him one Prelati, an alchymist of Padua, and a physicianof Poitou, who was addicted to the same pursuits. 

The marshal caused a splendid laboratory to be fitted up for them, and thethree commenced the search for the philosopher's stone. They were soonafterwards joined by another pretended philosopher, named Anthony Palermo, who aided in their operations for upwards of a year. They all faredsumptuously at the marshal's expense, draining him of the ready money hepossessed, and leading him on from day to day with the hope that theywould succeed in the object of their search. From time to time newaspirants from the remotest parts of Europe arrived at his castle, and formonths he had upwards of twenty alchymists at work, trying to transmutecopper into gold; and wasting the gold which was still his own in drugsand elixirs. 

But the Lord of Rays was not a man to abide patiently their lingeringprocesses. Pleased with their comfortable quarters, they jogged on fromday to day, and would have done so for years, had they been permitted. Buthe suddenly dismissed them all, with the exception of the Italian Prelati, and the physician of Poitou. These he retained to aid him to discover thesecret of the philosopher's stone by a bolder method. The Poitousan hadpersuaded him that the devil was the great depository of that and allother secrets, and that he would raise him before Gilles, who might enterinto any contract he pleased with him. Gilles expressed his readiness, andpromised to give the devil any thing but his soul, or do any deed that thearch-enemy might impose upon him. Attended solely by the physician, heproceeded at midnight to a wild-looking place in a neighbouring forest;the physician drew a magic circle around them on the sward, and mutteredfor half an hour an invocation to the evil spirit to arise at his bidding, and disclose the secrets of alchymy. Gilles looked on with intenseinterest, and expected every moment to see the earth open, and deliver tohis gaze the great enemy of mankind. At last the eyes of the physicianbecame fixed, his hair stood on end, and he spoke, as if addressing thefiend. But Gilles saw nothing except his companion. At last the physicianfell down on the sward as if insensible. Gilles looked calmly on to seethe end. After a few minutes the physician arose, and asked him if he hadnot seen how angry the devil looked? Gilles replied that he had seennothing; upon which his companion informed him that Beelzebub had appearedin the form of a wild leopard, growled at him savagely, and said nothing;and that the reason why the marshal had neither seen nor heard him was, that he hesitated in his own mind as to devoting himself entirely to theservice. De Rays owned that he had indeed misgivings, and inquired whatwas to be done to make the devil speak out, and unfold his secret? Thephysician replied, that some person must go to Spain and Africa to collectcertain herbs which only grew in those countries, and offered to gohimself, if De Rays would provide the necessary funds. De Rays at onceconsented; and the physician set out on the following day with all thegold that his dupe could spare him. The marshal never saw his face again. 

But the eager Lord of Champtocé could not rest. Gold was necessary for hispleasures; and unless by supernatural aid, he had no means of procuringany further supplies. The physician was hardly twenty leagues on hisjourney, before Gilles resolved to make another effort to force the devilto divulge the art of gold-making. He went out alone for that purpose; butall his conjurations were of no effect. Beelzebub was obstinate, and wouldnot appear. Determined to conquer him if he could, he unbosomed himself tothe Italian alchymist, Prelati. The latter offered to undertake thebusiness, upon condition that De Rays did not interfere in theconjurations, and consented besides to furnish him with all the charms andtalismans that might be required. He was further to open a vein in hisarm, and sign with his blood a contract that "he would work the devil'swill in all things, " and offer up to him a sacrifice of the heart, lungs, hands, eyes, and blood of a young child. The grasping monomaniac made nohesitation, but agreed at once to the disgusting terms proposed to him. Onthe following night, Prelati went out alone, and after having been absentfor three or four hours, returned to Gilles, who sat anxiously awaitinghim. Prelati then informed him that he had seen the devil in the shape ofa handsome youth of twenty. He further said, that the devil desired to becalled _Barron_ in all future invocations; and had shewn him a greatnumber of ingots of pure gold, buried under a large oak in theneighbouring forest, all of which, and as many more as he desired, shouldbecome the property of the Maréchal de Rays if he remained firm, and brokeno condition of the contract. Prelati further shewed him a small casket ofblack dust, which would turn iron into gold; but as the process was verytroublesome, he advised that they should be contented with the ingots theyfound under the oak tree, and which would more than supply all the wantsthat the most extravagant imagination could desire. They were not, however, to attempt to look for the gold till a period of seven timesseven weeks, or they would find nothing but slates and stones for theirpains. Gilles expressed the utmost chagrin and disappointment, and at oncesaid that he could not wait for so long a period; if the devil were notmore, prompt Prelati might tell him that the Maréchal de Rays was not tobe trifled with, and would decline all further communication with him. Prelati at last persuaded him to wait seven times seven days. They thenwent at midnight with picks and shovels to dig up the ground under theoak, where they found nothing to reward them but a great quantity ofslates, marked with hieroglyphics. It was now Prelati's turn to be angry;and he loudly swore that the devil was nothing but a liar and a cheat. Themarshal joined cordially in the opinion, but was easily persuaded by thecunning Italian to make one more trial. He promised at the same time thathe would endeavour on the following night to discover the reason why thedevil had broken his word. He went out alone accordingly, and on hisreturn informed his patron that he had seen Barron, who was exceedinglyangry that they had not waited the proper time ere they looked for theingots. Barron had also said, that the Maréchal de Rays could hardlyexpect any favours from him, at a time when he must know that he had beenmeditating a pilgrimage to the Holy Land to make atonement for his sins. The Italian had doubtless surmised this from some incautious expression ofhis patron, for de Rays frankly confessed that there were times when, sickof the world and all its pomps and vanities, he thought of devotinghimself to the service of God. 

In this manner the Italian lured on from month to month his credulous andguilty patron, extracting from him all the valuables he possessed, andonly waiting a favourable opportunity to decamp with his plunder. But theday of retribution was at hand for both. Young girls and boys continued todisappear in the most mysterious manner; and the rumours against the ownerof Champtocé grew so loud and distinct, that the Church was compelled tointerfere. Representations were made by the Bishop of Nantes to the Dukeof Brittany, that it would be a public scandal if the accusations againstthe Maréchal de Rays were not inquired into. He was arrested accordinglyin his own castle, along with his accomplice Prelati, and thrown into adungeon at Nantes to await his trial. 

The judges appointed to try him were the Bishop of Nantes Chancellor ofBrittany, the Vicar of the Inquisition in France, and the celebratedPierre l'Hôpital, the President of the provincial Parliament. The offenceslaid to his charge were, sorcery, sodomy, and murder. Gilles, on the firstday of his trial, conducted himself with the utmost insolence. He bravedthe judges on the judgment-seat, calling them simoniacs and persons ofimpure life, and said he would rather be hanged by the neck like a dogwithout trial, than plead either guilty or not guilty before suchcontemptible miscreants. But his confidence forsook him as the trialproceeded, and he was found guilty on the clearest evidence of all thecrimes laid to his charge. It was proved that he took insane pleasure instabbing the victims of his lust and in observing the quivering of theirflesh, and the fading lustre of their eyes as they expired. The confessionof Prelati first made the judges acquainted with this horrid madness, andGilles himself confirmed it before his death. Nearly a hundred children ofthe villagers around his two castles of Champtocé and Machecoue, had beenmissed within three years, the greater part, if not all, of whom wereimmolated to the lust or the cupidity of this monster. He imagined that hethus made the devil his friend, and that his recompense would be thesecret of the philosopher's stone. 

Gilles and Prelati were both condemned to be burned alive. At the place ofexecution they assumed the air of penitence and religion. Gilles tenderlyembraced Prelati, saying, "_Farewell, friend Francis! In this world weshall never meet again; but let us place our hopes in God; we shall seeeach other in Paradise_. " Out of consideration for his high rank andconnexions, the punishment of the marshal was so far mitigated, that hewas not burned alive like Prelati. He was first strangled, and then throwninto the flames: his body, when half consumed, was given over to hisrelatives for interment, while that of the Italian was burned to ashes, and then scattered to the winds. [39]

 [39] For full details of this extraordinary trial, see Lobineau's _Nouvelle Histoire de Bretagne_, and D'Argentré's work on the same subject. The character and life of Gilles de Rays are believed to have suggested the famous Blue Beard of the nursery tale. 

JACQUES COEUR. 

This remarkable pretender to the secret of the philosopher's stone wascontemporary with the last mentioned. He was a great personage at thecourt of Charles VII. , and in the events of his reign played a prominentpart. From a very humble origin he rose to the highest honours of thestate, and amassed enormous wealth by peculation and plunder of thecountry which he should have served. It was to hide his delinquencies inthis respect, and to divert attention from the real source of his riches, that he boasted of having discovered the art of transmuting the inferiormetals into gold and silver. 

His father was a goldsmith in the city of Bourges; but so reduced incircumstances towards the latter years of his life, that he was unable topay the necessary fees to procure his son's admission into the guild. Young Jacques became, however, a workman in the Royal Mint of Bourges, in1428, and behaved himself so well, and shewed so much knowledge ofmetallurgy, that he attained rapid promotion in that establishment. He hadalso the good fortune to make the acquaintance of the fair Agnes Sorel, bywhom he was patronised and much esteemed. Jacques had now three things inhis favour--ability, perseverance, and the countenance of the king'smistress. Many a man succeeds with but one of these to help him forward;and it would have been strange indeed if Jacques Coeur, who had them all, should have languished in obscurity. While still a young man, he was mademaster of the mint, in which he had been a journeyman, and installed atthe same time into the vacant office of grand treasurer of the royalhousehold. 

He possessed an extensive knowledge of finance, and turned it wonderfullyto his own advantage, as soon as he became entrusted with extensive funds. He speculated in articles of the first necessity, and made himself popularby buying up grain, honey, wines, and other produce, till there was ascarcity, when he sold it again at enormous profit. Strong in the royalfavour, he did not hesitate to oppress the poor by continual acts offorestalling and monopoly. As there is no enemy so bitter as the estrangedfriend, so of all the tyrants and tramplers upon the poor, there is noneso fierce and reckless as the upstart that sprang from their ranks. Theoffensive pride of Jacques Coeur to his inferiors was the theme ofindignant reproach in his own city, and his cringing humility to thoseabove him was as much an object of contempt to the aristocrats into whosesociety he thrust himself. But Jacques did not care for the former, and tothe latter he was blind. He continued his career till he became therichest man in France, and so useful to the king that no importantenterprise was set on foot until he had been consulted. He was sent, in1446, on an embassy to Genoa, and in the following year to Pope NicholasV. In both these missions he acquitted himself to the satisfaction of hissovereign, and was rewarded with a lucrative appointment, in addition tothose which he already held. 

In the year 1449, the English in Normandy, deprived of their greatgeneral, the Duke of Bedford, broke the truce with the French king, andtook possession of a small town belonging to the Duke of Brittany. Thiswas the signal for the recommencement of a war, in which the Frenchregained possession of nearly the whole province. The money for this warwas advanced, for the most part, by Jacques Coeur. When Rouen yielded tothe French, and Charles made his triumphal entry into that city, accompanied by Dunois and his most famous generals, Jacques was among themost brilliant of his _cortège_. His chariot and horses vied with those ofthe king in the magnificence of their trappings; and his enemies said ofhim that he publicly boasted that he alone had driven out the English, andthat the valour of the troops would have been nothing without his gold. 

Dunois appears, also, to have been partly of the same opinion. Withoutdisparaging the courage of the army, he acknowledged the utility of theable financier, by whose means they had been fed and paid, and constantlyafforded him his powerful protection. 

When peace returned, Jacques again devoted himself to commerce, and fittedup several galleys to trade with the Genoese. He also bought large estatesin various parts of France; the chief of which were the baronies of St. Fargeau, Meneton, Salone, Maubranche, Meaune, St. Gerant de Vaux, and St. Aon de Boissy; the earldoms or counties of La Palisse, Champignelle, Beaumont, and Villeneuve la Genêt, and the marquisate of Toucy. He alsoprocured for his son, Jean Coeur, who had chosen the Church for hisprofession, a post no less distinguished than that of Archbishop ofBourges. 

Every body said that so much wealth could not have been honestly acquired;and both rich and poor longed for the day that should humble the pride ofthe man, whom the one class regarded as an upstart and the other as anoppressor. Jacques was somewhat alarmed at the rumours that were afloatrespecting him, and of dark hints that he had debased the coin of therealm and forged the king's seal to an important document, by which he haddefrauded the state of very considerable sums. To silence these rumours, he invited many alchymists from foreign countries to reside with him, andcirculated a counter rumour, that he had discovered the secret of thephilosopher's stone. He also built a magnificent house in his native city, over the entrance of which he caused to be sculptured the emblems of thatscience. Some time afterwards he built another, no less splendid, atMontpellier, which he inscribed in a similar manner. He also wrote atreatise upon the hermetic philosophy, in which he pretended that he knewthe secret of transmuting metals. 

[Illustration: HOUSE OF JACQUES COEUR, BOURGES. ]

But all these attempts to disguise his numerous acts of peculation provedunavailing; and he was arrested in 1452, and brought to trial on severalcharges. Upon one only, which the malice of his enemies invented to ruinhim, was he acquitted; which was, that he had been accessory to the death, by poison, of his kind patroness, Agnes Sorel. Upon the others he wasfound guilty, and sentenced to be banished the kingdom, and to pay theenormous fine of four hundred thousand crowns. It was proved that he hadforged the king's seal; that in his capacity of master of the mint ofBourges, he had debased, to a very great extent, the gold and silver coinof the realm; and that he had not hesitated to supply the Turks with armsand money to enable them to carry on war against their Christianneighbours, for which service he had received the most munificentrecompenses. Charles VII. Was deeply grieved at his condemnation, andbelieved to the last that he was innocent. By his means the fine wasreduced within a sum which Jacques Coeur could pay. After remaining forsome time in prison, he was liberated, and left France with a large sum ofmoney, part of which, it was alleged, was secretly paid him by Charles outof the produce of his confiscated estates. He retired to Cyprus, where hedied about 1460, the richest and most conspicuous personage of the island. 

The writers upon alchymy all claim Jacques Coeur as a member of theirfraternity, and treat as false and libellous the more rational explanationof his wealth which the records of his trial afford. Pierre Borel, in his_Antiquités Gauloises_, maintains the opinion that Jacques was an honestman, and that he made his gold out of lead and copper by means of thephilosopher's stone. The alchymic adepts in general were of the sameopinion; but they found it difficult to persuade even his contemporariesof the fact. Posterity is still less likely to believe it. 

INFERIOR ADEPTS OF THE FOURTEENTH AND FIFTEENTH CENTURIES. 

Many other pretenders to the secrets of the philosopher's stone appearedin every country in Europe, during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The possibility of transmutation was so generally admitted, that everychemist was more or less an alchymist. Germany, Holland, Italy, Spain, Poland, France, and England produced thousands of obscure adepts, whosupported themselves, in the pursuit of their chimera, by the moreprofitable resources of astrology and divination. The monarchs of Europewere no less persuaded than their subjects of the possibility ofdiscovering the philosopher's stone. Henry VI. And Edward IV. Of Englandencouraged alchymy. In Germany, the Emperors Maximilian, Rudolph, andFrederic II. Devoted much of their attention to it; and every inferiorpotentate within their dominions imitated their example. It was a commonpractice in Germany, among the nobles and petty sovereigns, to invite analchymist to take up his residence among them, that they might confine himin a dungeon till he made gold enough to pay millions for his ransom. Manypoor wretches suffered perpetual imprisonment in consequence. A similarfate appears to have been intended by Edward II. For Raymond Lulli, who, upon the pretence that he was thereby honoured, was accommodated withapartments in the Tower of London. He found out in time the trick that wasabout to be played him, and managed to make his escape; some of hisbiographers say, by jumping into the Thames, and swimming to a vessel thatlay waiting to receive him. In the sixteenth century, the same system waspursued, as will be shewn more fully in the life of Seton the Cosmopolite. 

The following is a catalogue of the chief authors upon alchymy, whoflourished during this epoch, and whose lives and adventures are eitherunknown or are unworthy of more detailed notice. John Dowston, anEnglishman, lived in 1315, and wrote two treatises on the philosopher'sstone. Richard, or, as some call him, Robert, also an Englishman, lived in1330, and wrote a work entitled _Correctorium Alchymiæ_, which was muchesteemed till the time of Paracelsus. In the same year lived Peter ofLombardy, who wrote what he called a _Complete Treatise upon the HermeticScience_, an abridgment of which was afterwards published by Lacini, amonk of Calabria. In 1330 the most famous alchymist of Paris was oneOdomare, whose work, _De Practica Magistri_, was for a long time ahand-book among the brethren of the science. John de Rupecissa, a Frenchmonk of the order of St. Francis, flourished in 1357, and pretended to bea prophet as well as an alchymist. Some of his prophecies were sodisagreeable to Pope Innocent VI. , that the pontiff determined to put astop to them, by locking up the prophet in the dungeons of the Vatican. Itis generally believed that he died there, though there is no evidence ofthe fact. His chief works are, the _Book of Light_, the _Five Essences_, the _Heaven of Philosophers_, and his grand work, _De ConfectioneLapidis_. He was not thought a shining light among the adepts. Ortholaniwas another pretender, of whom nothing is known, but that he exercised thearts of alchymy and astrology at Paris, shortly before the time ofNicholas Flamel. His work on the practice of alchymy was written in thatcity in 1358. Isaac of Holland wrote, it is supposed, about this time; andhis son also devoted himself to the science. Nothing worth repeating isknown of their lives. Boerhaave speaks with commendation of many passagesin their works, and Paracelsus esteemed them highly: the chief are, _DeTriplici Ordine Elixiris et Lapidis Theoria_, printed at Berne in 1608;and _Mineralia Opera, seu de Lapide Philosophico_, printed at Middleburgin 1600. They also wrote eight other works upon the same subject. Koffstky, a Pole, wrote an alchymical treatise, entitled _The Tincture ofMinerals_, about the year 1488. In this list of authors a royal name mustnot be forgotten. Charles VI. Of France, one of the most credulous princesof the day, whose court absolutely swarmed with alchymists, conjurers, astrologers, and quacks of every description, made several attempts todiscover the philosopher's stone, and thought he knew so much about it, that he determined to enlighten the world with a treatise; it is calledthe _Royal Work of Charles VI. Of France, and the Treasure of Philosophy_. It is said to be the original from which Nicholas Flamel took the idea ofhis _Désir désiré_. Lenglet du Fresnoy says it is very allegorical, andutterly incomprehensible. For a more complete list of the hermeticphilosophers of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the reader isreferred to the third volume of Lenglet's History, already quoted. 

 * * * * *

PROGRESS OF THE INFATUATION DURING THE SIXTEENTH AND SEVENTEENTHCENTURIES. --PRESENT STATE OF THE SCIENCE. 

During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the search for thephilosopher's stone was continued by thousands of the enthusiastic and thecredulous; but a great change was introduced during this period. Theeminent men who devoted themselves to the study totally changed itsaspect, and referred to the possession of their wondrous stone and elixir, not only the conversion of the base into the precious metals, but thesolution of all the difficulties of other sciences. They pretended that byits means man would be brought into closer communion with his Maker; thatdisease and sorrow would be banished from the world; and that "themillions of spiritual beings who walk the earth unseen" would be renderedvisible, and become the friends, companions, and instructors of mankind. In the seventeenth century more especially, these poetical and fantasticdoctrines excited the notice of Europe; and from Germany, where they hadbeen first disseminated by Rosencreutz, spread into France and England, and ran away with the sound judgment of many clever but too enthusiasticsearchers for the truth. Paracelsus, Dee, and many others of less note, were captivated by the grace and beauty of the new mythology, which wasarising to adorn the literature of Europe. Most of the alchymists of thesixteenth century, although ignorant of the Rosicrucians as a sect, were, in some degree, tinctured with their fanciful tenets: but before we speakmore fully of these poetical visionaries, it will be necessary to resumethe history of the hermetic folly, and trace the gradual change that stoleover the dreams of the adepts. It will be seen that the infatuationincreased rather than diminished as the world grew older. 

AUGURELLO. 

Among the alchymists who were born in the fifteenth, and distinguishedthemselves in the sixteenth century, the first in point of date is JohnAurelio Augurello. He was born at Rimini in 1441, and became professor ofthe _belles lettres_ at Venice and Trevisa. He was early convinced of thetruth of the hermetic science, and used to pray to God that he might behappy enough to discover the philosopher's stone. He was continuallysurrounded by the paraphernalia of chemistry, and expended all his wealthin the purchase of drugs and metals. He was also a poet, but of less meritthan pretensions. His _Chrysopeia_, in which he pretended to teach the artof making gold, he dedicated to Pope Leo X. , in the hope that the pontiffwould reward him handsomely for the compliment; but the pope was too gooda judge of poetry to be pleased with the worse than mediocrity of hispoem, and too good a philosopher to approve of the strange doctrines whichit inculcated; he was, therefore, far from gratified at the dedication. Itis said, that when Augurello applied to him for a reward, the pope, withgreat ceremony and much apparent kindness and cordiality, drew an emptypurse from his pocket, and presented it to the alchymist, saying, thatsince he was able to make gold, the most appropriate present that could bemade him, was a purse to put it in. This scurvy reward was all that thepoor alchymist ever got either for his poetry or his alchymy. He died in astate of extreme poverty, in the eighty-third year of his age. 

CORNELIUS AGRIPPA. 

This alchymist has left a distinguished reputation. The mostextraordinary tales were told and believed of his powers. He could turniron into gold by his mere word. All the spirits of the air and demons ofthe earth were under his command, and bound to obey him in everything. Hecould raise from the dead the forms of the great men of other days, andmake them appear, "in their habit as they lived, " to the gaze of thecurious who had courage enough to abide their presence. 

[Illustration: CORNELIUS AGRIPPA. ]

He was born at Cologne in 1486, and began at an early age the study ofchemistry and philosophy. By some means or other, which have never beenvery clearly explained, he managed to impress his contemporaries with agreat idea of his wonderful attainments. At the early age of twenty, sogreat was his reputation as an alchymist, that the principal adepts ofParis wrote to Cologne, inviting him to settle in France, and aid themwith his experience in discovering the philosopher's stone. Honours pouredupon him in thick succession; and he was highly esteemed by all thelearned men of his time. Melancthon speaks of him with respect andcommendation. Erasmus also bears testimony in his favour; and the generalvoice of his age proclaimed him a light of literature and an ornament tophilosophy. Some men, by dint of excessive egotism, manage to persuadetheir contemporaries that they are very great men indeed: they publishtheir acquirements so loudly in people's ears, and keep up their ownpraises so incessantly, that the world's applause is actually taken bystorm. Such seems to have been the case with Agrippa. He called himself asublime theologian, an excellent jurisconsult, an able physician, a greatphilosopher, and a successful alchymist. The world at last took him at hisword; and thought that a man who talked so big, must have some merit torecommend him, --that it was, indeed, a great trumpet which sounded soobstreperous a blast. He was made secretary to the Emperor Maximilian, whoconferred upon him the title of chevalier, and gave him the honorarycommand of a regiment. He afterwards became professor of Hebrew and the_belles lettres_ at the University of Dôle, in France; but quarrellingwith the Franciscan monks upon some knotty points of divinity, he wasobliged to quit the town. He took refuge in London, where he taught Hebrewand cast nativities, for about a year. From London he proceeded to Pavia, and gave lectures upon the writings, real or supposed, of HermesTrismegistus; and might have lived there in peace and honour, had he notagain quarrelled with the clergy. By their means his position became sodisagreeable that he was glad to accept an offer made him by themagistracy of Metz, to become their syndic and advocate-general. Here, again, his love of disputation made him enemies: the theological wiseacresof that city asserted that St. Ann had three husbands, in which opinionthey were confirmed by the popular belief of the day. Agrippa needlesslyran foul of this opinion, or prejudice as he called it, and thereby lostmuch of his influence. Another dispute, more creditable to his character, occurred soon after, and sank him for ever in the estimation of theMetzians. Humanely taking the part of a young girl who was accused ofwitchcraft, his enemies asserted that he was himself a sorcerer, andraised such a storm over his head, that he was forced to fly the city. After this he became physician to Louisa de Savoy, mother of King FrancisI. This lady was curious to know the future, and required her physician tocast her nativity. Agrippa replied that he would not encourage such idlecuriosity. The result was, he lost her confidence, and was forthwithdismissed. If it had been through his belief in the worthlessness ofastrology, that he had made his answer, we might admire his honest andfearless independence; but when it is known that, at the very same time, he was in the constant habit of divination and fortune-telling, and thathe was predicting splendid success, in all his undertakings, to theConstable of Bourbon, we can only wonder at his thus estranging a powerfulfriend through mere petulance and perversity. 

He was about this time invited, both by Henry VIII. Of England, andMargaret of Austria, governess of the Low Countries, to fix his residencein their dominions. He chose the service of the latter, by whose influencehe was made historiographer to the Emperor Charles V. Unfortunately forAgrippa, he never had stability enough to remain long in one position, andoffended his patrons by his restlessness and presumption. After the deathof Margaret he was imprisoned at Brussels, on a charge of sorcery. He wasreleased after a year; and quitting the country, experienced manyvicissitudes. He died in great poverty in 1534, aged forty-eight years. 

While in the service of Margaret of Austria, he resided principally atLouvain, in which city he wrote his famous work on the _Vanity andNothingness of Human Knowledge_. He also wrote to please his royalmistress, a treatise upon the _Superiority of the Female Sex_, which hededicated to her in token of his gratitude for the favours she had heapedupon him. The reputation he left behind him in these provinces was anything but favourable. A great number of the marvellous tales that are toldof him relate to this period of his life. It was said, that the gold whichhe paid to the traders with whom he dealt, always looked remarkablybright, but invariably turned into pieces of slate and stone in the courseof four-and-twenty hours. Of this spurious gold he was believed to havemade large quantities by the aid of the devil, who, it would appear fromthis, had but a very superficial knowledge of alchymy, and much less thanthe Maréchal de Rays gave him credit for. The Jesuit Delrio, in his bookon magic and sorcery, relates a still more extraordinary story of him. Oneday, Agrippa left his house at Louvain, and intending to be absent forsome time, gave the key of his study to his wife, with strict orders thatno one should enter it during his absence. The lady herself, strange as itmay appear, had no curiosity to pry into her husband's secrets, and neveronce thought of entering the forbidden room; but a young student, who hadbeen accommodated with an attic in the philosopher's house, burned with afierce desire to examine the study; hoping, perchance, that he mightpurloin some book or implement which would instruct him in the art oftransmuting metals. The youth, being handsome, eloquent, and, above all, highly complimentary to the charms of the lady, she was persuaded withoutmuch difficulty to lend him the key, but gave him strict orders not toremove any thing. The student promised implicit obedience, and enteredAgrippa's study. The first object that caught his attention was a large_grimoire_, or book of spells, which lay open on the philosopher's desk. He sat himself down immediately and began to read. At the first word heuttered, he fancied he heard a knock at the door. He listened, but all wassilent. Thinking that his imagination had deceived him, he read on, whenimmediately a louder knock was heard, which so terrified him, that hestarted to his feet. He tried to say "Come in, " but his tongue refused itsoffice, and he could not articulate a sound. He fixed his eyes upon thedoor, which, slowly opening, disclosed a stranger of majestic form, butscowling features, who demanded sternly, why he was summoned? "I did notsummon you, " said the trembling student. "You did!" said the stranger, advancing angrily; "and the demons are not to be invoked in vain. " Thestudent could make no reply; and the demon, enraged that one of theuninitiated should have summoned him out of mere presumption, seized himby the throat and strangled him. When Agrippa returned, a few daysafterwards, he found his house beset with devils. Some of them weresitting on the chimney-pots, kicking up their legs in the air; whileothers were playing at leapfrog on the very edge of the parapet. His studywas so filled with them, that he found it difficult to make his way to hisdesk. When, at last, he had elbowed his way through them, he found hisbook open, and the student lying dead upon the floor. He saw immediatelyhow the mischief had been done; and dismissing all the inferior imps, asked the principal demon how he could have been so rash as to kill theyoung man. The demon replied, that he had been needlessly invoked by aninsulting youth, and could do no less than kill him for his presumption. Agrippa reprimanded him severely, and ordered him immediately to reanimatethe dead body, and walk about with it in the market-place for the whole ofthe afternoon. The demon did so; the student revived, and putting his armthrough that of his unearthly murderer, walked very lovingly with him insight of all the people. At sunset, the body fell down again, cold andlifeless as before, and was carried by the crowd to the hospital, it beingthe general opinion that he had expired in a fit of apoplexy. Hisconductor immediately disappeared. When the body was examined, marks ofstrangulation were found on the neck, and prints of the long claws of thedemon on various parts of it. These appearances, together with a story, which soon obtained currency, that the companion of the young man hadvanished in a cloud of flame and smoke, opened people's eyes to the truth. The magistrates of Louvain instituted inquiries, and the result was, thatAgrippa was obliged to quit the town. 

Other authors besides Delrio relate similar stories of this philosopher. The world in those days was always willing enough to believe in tales ofmagic and sorcery; and when, as in Agrippa's case, the alleged magiciangave himself out for such, and claimed credit for the wonders he worked, it is not surprising that the age should have allowed his pretensions. Itwas dangerous boasting, which sometimes led to the stake or the gallows, and therefore was thought to be not without foundation. Paulus Jovius, inhis _Eulogia Doctorum Virorum_, says, that the devil, in the shape of alarge black dog, attended Agrippa wherever he went. Thomas Nash, in his_Adventures of Jack Wilton_, relates, that, at the request of Lord Surrey, Erasmus, and some other learned men, Agrippa called up from the grave manyof the great philosophers of antiquity; among others, Tully, whom hecaused to re-deliver his celebrated oration for Roscius. He also shewedLord Surrey, when in Germany, an exact resemblance in a glass of hismistress, the fair Geraldine. She was represented on a couch weeping forthe absence of her lover. Lord Surrey made a note of the exact time atwhich he saw this vision, and ascertained afterwards that his mistress wasactually so employed at the very minute. To Thomas Lord Cromwell, Agripparepresented King Henry VIII. Hunting in Windsor Park, with the principallords of his court; and to please the Emperor Charles V. He summoned KingDavid and King Solomon from the tomb. 

Naudé, in his "_Apology for the great Men who have been falsely suspectedof Magic_, " takes a great deal of pains to clear Agrippa from theimputations cast upon him by Delrio, Paulus Jovius, and other suchignorant and prejudiced scribblers. Such stories demanded refutation inthe days of Naudé, but they may now be safely left to decay in their ownabsurdity. That they should have attached, however, to the memory of a manwho claimed the power of making iron obey him when he told it to becomegold, and who wrote such a work as that upon magic, which goes by hisname, is not at all surprising. 

PARACELSUS. 

This philosopher, called by Naudé "the zenith and rising sun of all thealchymists, " was born at Einsiedeln, near Zurich, in the year 1493. Histrue name was Hohenheim; to which, as he himself informs us, were prefixedthe baptismal names of Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastes Paracelsus. Thelast of these he chose for his common designation while he was yet a boy;and rendered it, before he died, one of the most famous in the annals ofhis time. His father, who was a physician, educated his son for the samepursuit. The latter was an apt scholar, and made great progress. By chancethe work of Isaac Hollandus fell into his hands, and from that time hebecame smitten with the mania of the philosopher's stone. All his thoughtshenceforth were devoted to metallurgy; and he travelled into Sweden thathe might visit the mines of that country, and examine the ores while theyyet lay in the bowels of the earth. He also visited Trithemius at themonastery of Spannheim, and obtained instructions from him in the scienceof alchymy. Continuing his travels, he proceeded through Prussia andAustria into Turkey, Egypt, and Tartary, and thence returning toConstantinople, learned, as he boasted, the art of transmutation, andbecame possessed of the _elixir vitæ_. He then established himself as aphysician in his native Switzerland at Zurich, and commenced writing worksupon alchymy and medicine, which immediately fixed the attention ofEurope. Their great obscurity was no impediment to their fame; for theless the author was understood, the more the demonologists, fanatics, andphilosopher's-stone hunters seemed to appreciate him. His fame as aphysician kept pace with that which he enjoyed as an alchymist, owing tohis having effected some happy cures by means of mercury and opium, --drugsunceremoniously condemned by his professional brethren. In the year 1526, he was chosen professor of physics and natural philosophy in theUniversity of Basle, where his lectures attracted vast numbers ofstudents. He denounced the writings of all former physicians as tending tomislead; and publicly burned the works of Galen and Avicenna, as quacksand impostors. He exclaimed, in presence of the admiring andhalf-bewildered crowd, who assembled to witness the ceremony, that therewas more knowledge in his shoe-strings than in the writings of thesephysicians. Continuing in the same strain, he said, all the Universitiesin the world were full of ignorant quacks; but that he, Paracelsus, overflowed with wisdom. "You will all follow my new system, " said he, withfurious gesticulations, "Avicenna, Galen, Rhazis, Montagnana, Memé, --youwill all follow me, ye professors of Paris, Montpellier, Germany, Cologne, and Vienna! and all ye that dwell on the Rhine and the Danube, --ye thatinhabit the isles of the sea; and ye also, Italians, Dalmatians, Athenians, Arabians, Jews, --ye will all follow my doctrines, for I am themonarch of medicine!"

[Illustration: PARACELSUS. ]

But he did not long enjoy the esteem of the good citizens of Basle. It issaid that he indulged in wine so freely, as not unfrequently to be seen inthe streets in a state of intoxication. This was ruinous for a physician, and his good fame decreased rapidly. His ill fame increased in stillgreater proportion, especially when he assumed the airs of a sorcerer. Heboasted of the legions of spirits at his command; and of one especially, which he kept imprisoned in the hilt of his sword. Wetteras, who livedtwenty-seven months in his service, relates that he often threatened toinvoke a whole army of demons, and shew him the great authority which hecould exercise over them. He let it be believed that the spirit in hissword had custody of the elixir of life, by means of which he could makeany one live to be as old as the antediluvians. He also boasted that hehad a spirit at his command, called "Azoth, " whom he kept imprisoned in ajewel; and in many of the old portraits he is represented with a jewel, inscribed with the word "Azoth, in his hand. "

If a sober prophet has little honour in his own country, a drunken one hasstill less. Paracelsus found it at last convenient to quit Basle, andestablish himself at Strasbourg. The immediate cause of this change ofresidence was as follows. A citizen lay at the point of death, and wasgiven over by all the physicians of the town. As a last resourceParacelsus was called in, to whom the sick man promised a magnificentrecompense, if, by his means, he were cured. Paracelsus gave him two smallpills, which the man took, and rapidly recovered. When he was quite well, Paracelsus sent for his fee; but the citizen had no great opinion of thevalue of a cure which had been so speedily effected. He had no notion ofpaying a handful of gold for two pills, although they had saved his life, and he refused to pay more than the usual fee for a single visit. Paracelsus brought an action against him, and lost it. This result soexasperated him, that he left Basle in high dudgeon. He resumed hiswandering life, and travelled in Germany and Hungary, supporting himselfas he went on the credulity and infatuation of all classes of society. Hecast nativities--told fortunes--aided those who had money to throw awayupon the experiment, to find the philosopher's stone--prescribed remediesfor cows and pigs, and aided in the recovery of stolen goods. Afterresiding successively at Nuremburg, Augsburg, Vienna, and Mindelheim, heretired in the year 1541 to Saltzbourg, and died in a state of abjectpoverty in the hospital of that town. 

If this strange charlatan found hundreds of admirers during his life, hefound thousands after his death. A sect of Paracelsists sprang up inFrance and Germany, to perpetuate the extravagant doctrines of theirfounder upon all the sciences, and upon alchymy in particular. The chiefleaders were Bodenstein and Dorneus. The following is a summary of hisdoctrine, founded upon the supposed existence of the philosopher's stone;it is worth preserving from its very absurdity, and is altogetherunparalleled in the history of philosophy. First of all, he maintainedthat the contemplation of the perfection of the Deity sufficed to procureall wisdom and knowledge; that the Bible was the key to the theory of alldiseases, and that it was necessary to search into the Apocalypse to knowthe signification of magic medicine. The man who blindly obeyed the willof God, and who succeeded in identifying himself with the celestialintelligences, possessed the philosopher's stone--he could cure alldiseases, and prolong life to as many centuries as he pleased; it being bythe very same means that Adam and the antediluvian patriarchs prolongedtheirs. Life was an emanation from the stars--the sun governed the heart, and the moon the brain. Jupiter governed the liver, Saturn the gall, Mercury the lungs, Mars the bile, and Venus the loins. In the stomach ofevery human being there dwelt a demon, or intelligence, that was a sort ofalchymist in his way, and mixed, in their due proportions, in hiscrucible, the various aliments that were sent into that grand laboratory, the belly. [40] He was proud of the title of magician, and boasted thathe kept up a regular correspondence with Galen from hell; and that heoften summoned Avicenna from the same regions to dispute with him on thefalse notions he had promulgated respecting alchymy, and especiallyregarding potable gold and the elixir of life. He imagined that gold couldcure ossification of the heart, and, in fact, all diseases, if it weregold which had been transmuted from an inferior metal by means of thephilosopher's stone, and if it were applied under certain conjunctions ofthe planets. The mere list of the works in which he advances these franticimaginings, which he called a doctrine, would occupy several pages. 

 [40] See the article "Paracelsus, " by the learned Renaudin, in the _Biographie Universelle_. 

GEORGE AGRICOLA. 

This alchymist was born in the province of Misnia, in 1494. His real namewas _Bauer_, meaning a husbandman, which, in accordance with the commonfashion of his age, he latinised into Agricola. From his early youth, hedelighted in the visions of the hermetic science. Ere he was sixteen, helonged for the great elixir which was to make him live for seven hundredyears, and for the stone which was to procure him wealth to cheer him inhis multiplicity of days. He published a small treatise upon the subjectat Cologne, in 1531, which obtained him the patronage of the celebratedMaurice duke of Saxony. After practising for some years as a physician atJoachimsthal, in Bohemia, he was employed by Maurice as superintendent ofthe silver mines of Chemnitz. He led a happy life among the miners, makingvarious experiments in alchymy while deep in the bowels of the earth. Heacquired a great knowledge of metals, and gradually got rid of hisextravagant notions about the philosopher's stone. The miners had no faithin alchymy; and they converted him to their way of thinking, not only inthat but in other respects. From their legends, he became firmly convincedthat the bowels of the earth were inhabited by good and evil spirits, andthat firedamp and other explosions sprang from no other causes than themischievous propensities of the latter. He died in the year 1555, leavingbehind him the reputation of a very able and intelligent man. 

DENIS ZACHAIRE. 

Autobiography, written by a wise man who was once a fool, is not only themost instructive, but the most delightful of reading. Denis Zachaire, analchymist of the sixteenth century, has performed this task, and left arecord of his folly and infatuation in pursuit of the philosopher's stone, which well repays perusal. He was born in the year 1510, of an ancientfamily in Guienne, and was early sent to the university of Bordeaux, underthe care of a tutor to direct his studies. Unfortunately his tutor was asearcher for the grand elixir, and soon rendered his pupil as mad ashimself upon the subject. With this introduction, we will allow DenisZachaire to speak for himself, and continue his narrative in his ownwords: "I received from home, " says he, "the sum of two hundred crowns forthe expenses of myself and master; but before the end of the year, all ourmoney went away in the smoke of our furnaces. My master, at the same time, died of a fever, brought on by the parching heat of our laboratory, fromwhich he seldom or never stirred, and which was scarcely less hot than thearsenal of Venice. His death was the more unfortunate for me, as myparents took the opportunity of reducing my allowance, and sending me onlysufficient for my board and lodging, instead of the sum I required tocontinue my operations in alchymy. 

"To meet this difficulty and get out of leading-strings, I returned homeat the age of twenty-five, and mortgaged part of my property for fourhundred crowns. This sum was necessary to perform an operation of thescience, which had been communicated to me by an Italian at Toulouse, andwho, as he said, had proved its efficacy. I retained this man in myservice, that we might see the end of the experiment. I then, by means ofstrong distillations, tried to calcinate gold and silver; but all mylabour was in vain. The weight of the gold I drew out of my furnace wasdiminished by one-half since I put it in, and my four hundred crowns werevery soon reduced to two hundred and thirty. I gave twenty of these to myItalian, in order that he might travel to Milan, where the author of thereceipt resided, and ask him the explanation of some passages which wethought obscure. I remained at Toulouse all the winter, in the hope of hisreturn; but I might have remained there till this day if I had waited forhim, for I never saw his face again. 

"In the succeeding summer there was a great plague, which forced me toquit the town. I did not, however, lose sight of my work. I went toCahors, where I remained six months, and made the acquaintance of an oldman, who was commonly known to the people as 'the Philosopher;' a namewhich, in country places, is often bestowed upon people whose only meritis, that they are less ignorant than their neighbours. I shewed him mycollection of alchymical receipts, and asked his opinion upon them. Hepicked out ten or twelve of them, merely saying that they were better thanthe others. When the plague ceased, I returned to Toulouse, andrecommenced my experiments in search of the stone. I worked to such effectthat my four hundred crowns were reduced to one hundred and seventy. 

"That I might continue my work on a safer method, I made acquaintance, in1537, with a certain abbé who resided in the neighbourhood. He was smittenwith the same mania as myself, and told me that one of his friends, whohad followed to Rome in the retinue of the Cardinal d'Armagnac, had senthim from that city a new receipt which could not fail to transmute ironand copper, but which would cost two hundred crowns. I provided half thismoney, and the abbé the rest; and we began to operate at our jointexpense. As we required spirits of wine for our experiment, I bought a tunof excellent _vin de Gaillac_. I extracted the spirit, and rectified itseveral times. We took a quantity of this, into which we put four marks ofsilver and one of gold that had been undergoing the process of calcinationfor a month. We put this mixture cleverly into a sort of horn-shapedvessel, with another to serve as a retort; and placed the whole apparatusupon our furnace to produce congelation. This experiment lasted a year;but, not to remain idle, we amused ourselves with many other lessimportant operations. We drew quite as much profit from these as from ourgreat work. 

"The whole of the year 1537 passed over without producing any changewhatever; in fact we might have waited till doomsday for the congelationof our spirits of wine. However, we made a projection with it upon someheated quicksilver; but all was in vain. Judge of our chagrin, especiallyof that of the abbé, who had already boasted to all the monks of hismonastery, that they had only to bring the large pump which stood in acorner of the cloister, and he would convert it into gold: but this illluck did not prevent us from persevering. I once more mortgaged mypaternal lands for four hundred crowns, the whole of which I determined todevote to a renewal of my search for the great secret. The abbécontributed the same sum; and with these eight hundred crowns I proceededto Paris, a city more abounding with alchymists than any other in theworld, resolved never to leave it until I had either found thephilosopher's stone or spent all my money. This journey gave the greatestoffence to all my relations and friends, who, imagining that I was fittedto be a great lawyer, were anxious that I should establish myself in thatprofession. For the sake of quietness, I pretended, at last, that such wasmy object. 

"After travelling for fifteen days, I arrived in Paris on the 9th ofJanuary 1539. I remained for a month almost unknown; but I had no soonerbegun to frequent the amateurs of the science, and visited the shops ofthe furnace-makers, than I had the acquaintance of more than a hundredoperative alchymists, each of whom had a different theory and a differentmode of working. Some of them preferred cementation; others sought theuniversal alkahest or dissolvent; and some of them boasted the greatefficacy of the essence of emery. Some of them endeavoured to extractmercury from other metals, to fix it afterwards; and, in order that eachof us should be thoroughly acquainted with the proceedings of the others, we agreed to meet somewhere every night and report progress. We metsometimes at the house of one, and sometimes in the garret of another; notonly on week days, but on Sundays and the great festivals of the Church. 'Ah!' one used to say, 'if I had the means of recommencing thisexperiment, I should do something. ' 'Yes, ' said another, 'if my cruciblehad not cracked, I should have succeeded before now;' while a thirdexclaimed, with a sigh, 'If I had but had a round copper vessel ofsufficient strength, I would have fixed mercury with silver. ' There wasnot one among them who had not some excuse for his failure; but I was deafto all their speeches. I did not want to part with my money to any ofthem, remembering how often I had been the dupe of such promises. 

"A Greek at last presented himself; and with him I worked a long timeuselessly upon nails made of cinnabar or vermilion. I was also acquaintedwith a foreign gentleman newly arrived in Paris, and often accompanied himto the shops of the goldsmiths to sell pieces of gold and silver, theproduce, as he said, of his experiments. I stuck closely to him for a longtime, in the hope that he would impart his secret. He refused for a longtime, but acceded at last on my earnest entreaty, and I found that it wasnothing more than an ingenious trick. I did not fail to inform my friendthe abbé, whom I had left at Toulouse, of all my adventures; and sent him, among other matters, a relation of the trick by which this gentlemanpretended to turn lead into gold. The abbé still imagined that I shouldsucceed at last, and advised me to remain another year in Paris, where Ihad made so good a beginning. I remained there three years; but, notwithstanding all my efforts, I had no more success than I had hadelsewhere. 

"I had just got to the end of my money, when I received a letter from theabbé, telling me to leave every thing, and join him immediately atToulouse. I went accordingly, and found that he had received letters fromthe king of Navarre (grandfather of Henry IV. ). This prince was a greatlover of philosophy, full of curiosity, and had written to the abbé that Ishould visit him at Pau; and that he would give me three or four thousandcrowns if I would communicate the secret I had learned from the foreigngentleman. The abbé's ears were so tickled with the four thousand crowns, that he let me have no peace night or day until he had fairly seen me onthe road to Pau. I arrived at that place in the month of May 1542. Iworked away, and succeeded, according to the receipt I had obtained. WhenI had finished to the satisfaction of the king, he gave me the reward thatI expected. Although he was willing enough to do me further service, hewas dissuaded from it by the lords of his court; even by many of those whohad been most anxious that I should come. He sent me then about mybusiness, with many thanks; saying, that if there was any thing in hiskingdom which he could give me--such as the produce of confiscations orthe like--he should be most happy. I thought I might stay long enough forthese prospective confiscations, and never get them at last; and Itherefore determined to go back to my friend the abbé. 

"I learned that, on the road between Pau and Toulouse, there resided amonk who was very skilful in all matters of natural philosophy. On myreturn, I paid him a visit. He. Pitied me very much, and advised me, withmuch warmth and kindness of expression, not to amuse myself any longerwith such experiments as these, which were all false and sophistical; butthat I should read the good books of the old philosophers, where I mightnot only find the true matter of the science of alchymy, but learn alsothe exact order of operations which ought to be followed. I very muchapproved of this wise advice; but before I acted upon it, I went back tomy abbé of Toulouse, to give him ail account of the eight hundred crownswhich we had had in common, and, at the same time, share with him suchreward as I had received from the king of Navarre. If he was littlesatisfied with the relation of my adventures since our first separation, he appeared still less satisfied when I told him I had formed a resolutionto renounce the search for the philosopher's stone. The reason was that hethought me a good artist. Of our eight hundred crowns, there remained butone hundred and seventy-six. When I quitted the abbé, I went to my ownhouse with the intention of remaining there, till I had read all the oldphilosophers, and of then proceeding to Paris. 

"I arrived in Paris on the day after All Saints, of the year 1546, anddevoted another year to the assiduous study of great authors. Amongothers, the _Turba Philosophorum_ of the Good Trevisan, the _Remonstranceof Nature to the Wandering Alchymist_, by Jean de Meung, and severalothers of the best books; but, as I had no right principles, I did notwell know what course to follow. 

"At last I left my solitude, not to see my former acquaintances, theadepts and operators, but to frequent the society of true philosophers. Among them I fell into still greater uncertainties; being, in fact, completely bewildered by the variety of operations which they shewed me. Spurred on, nevertheless, by a sort of frenzy or inspiration, I threwmyself into the works of Raymond Lulli and of Arnold de Villeneuve. Thereading of these, and the reflections I made upon them, occupied me foranother year, when I finally determined on the course I should adopt. Iwas obliged to wait, however, until I had mortgaged another veryconsiderable portion of my patrimony. This business was not settled untilthe beginning of Lent, 1549, when I commenced my operations. I laid in astock of all that was necessary, and began to work the day after Easter. It was not, however, without some disquietude and opposition from myfriends who came about me; one asking me what I was going to do, andwhether I had not already spent money enough upon such follies? Anotherassured me that, if I bought so much charcoal, I should strengthen thesuspicion already existing, that I was a coiner of base money. Anotheradvised me to purchase some place in the magistracy, as I was already aDoctor of Laws. My relations spoke in terms still more annoying to me, andeven threatened that, if I continued to make such a fool of myself, theywould send a posse of police-officers into my house, and break all myfurnaces and crucibles into atoms. I was wearied almost to death by thiscontinued persecution; but I found comfort in my work and in the progressof my experiment, to which I was very attentive, and which went on bravelyfrom day to day. About this time, there was a dreadful plague in Paris, which interrupted all intercourse between man and man, and left me as muchto myself as I could desire. I soon had the satisfaction to remark theprogress and succession of the three colours which, according to thephilosophers, always prognosticate the approaching perfection of the work. I observed them distinctly, one after the other; and next year, beingEaster Sunday, 1550, I made the great trial. Some common quicksilver, which I put into a small crucible on the fire, was, in less than an hour, converted into very good gold. You may judge how great was my joy, but Itook care not to boast of it. I returned thanks to God for the favour hehad shewn me, and prayed that I might only be permitted to make such useof it as would redound to his glory. 

"On the following day, I went towards Toulouse to find, the abbé, inaccordance with a mutual promise, that we should communicate ourdiscoveries to each other. On my way, I called in to see the sage monk whohad assisted me with his counsels; but I had the sorrow to learn that theywere both dead. After this, I would not return to my own home, but retiredto another place, to await one of my relations whom I had left in chargeof my estate. I gave him orders to sell all that belonged to me, as wellmovable as immovable--to pay my debts with the proceeds, and divide allthe rest among those in any way related to me who might stand in need ofit, in order that they might enjoy some share of the good fortune whichhad befallen me. There was a great deal of talk in the neighbourhood aboutmy precipitate retreat; the wisest of my acquaintance imagining that, broken down and ruined by my mad expenses, I sold my little remainingproperty, that I might go and hide my shame in distant countries. 

"My relative already spoken of rejoined me on the 1st of July, afterhaving performed all the business I had entrusted him with. We took ourdeparture together, to seek a land of liberty. We first retired toLausanne, in Switzerland, when, after remaining there for some time, weresolved to pass the remainder of our days in some of the most celebratedcities of Germany, living quietly and without splendour. "

Thus ends the story of Denis Zachaire, as written by himself. He has notbeen so candid at its conclusion as at its commencement, and has left theworld in doubt as to his real motives for pretending that he haddiscovered the philosopher's stone. It seems probable that the sentence heputs into the mouths of his wisest acquaintances was the true reason ofhis retreat; that he was, in fact, reduced to poverty, and hid his shamein foreign countries. Nothing further is known of his life, and his realname has never yet been discovered. He wrote a work on alchymy, entitled_The true Natural Philosophy of Metals_. 

DR. DEE AND EDWARD KELLY. 

John Dee and Edward Kelly claim to be mentioned together, having been solong associated in the same pursuits, and undergone so many strangevicissitudes in each other's society. Dee was altogether a wonderful man, and had he lived in an age when folly and superstition were less rife, hewould, with the same powers which he enjoyed, have left behind him abright and enduring reputation. He was born in London in the year 1527, and very early manifested a love for study. At the age of fifteen he wassent to Cambridge, and delighted so much in his books, that he passedregularly eighteen hours every day among them. Of the other six, hedevoted four to sleep and two for refreshment. Such intense applicationdid not injure his health, and could not fail to make him one of the firstscholars of his time. Unfortunately, however, he quitted the mathematicsand the pursuits of true philosophy, to indulge in the unprofitablereveries of the occult sciences. He studied alchymy, astrology, and magic, and thereby rendered himself obnoxious to the authorities at Cambridge. Toavoid persecution, he was at last obliged to retire to the university ofLouvain; the rumours of sorcery that were current respecting him renderinghis longer stay in England not altogether without danger. He found atLouvain many kindred spirits who had known Cornelius Agrippa while heresided among them, and by whom he was constantly entertained with thewondrous deeds of that great master of the hermetic mysteries. From theirconversation he received much encouragement to continue the search for thephilosopher's stone, which soon began to occupy nearly all his thoughts. 

[Illustration: DR. DEE. ]

He did not long remain on the Continent, but returned to England in 1551, being at that time in the twenty-fourth year of his age. By the influenceof his friend Sir John Cheek, he was kindly received at the court of KingEdward VI. , and rewarded (it is difficult to say for what) with a pensionof one hundred crowns. He continued for several years to practise inLondon as an astrologer; casting nativities, telling fortunes, andpointing out lucky and unlucky days. During the reign of Queen Mary he gotinto trouble, being suspected of heresy, and charged with attemptingMary's life by means of enchantments. He was tried for the latter offence, and acquitted; but was retained in prison on the former charge, and leftto the tender mercies of Bishop Bonner. He had a very narrow escape frombeing burned in Smithfield, but he somehow or other contrived to persuadethat fierce bigot that his orthodoxy was unimpeachable, and was set atliberty in 1555. 

On the accession of Elizabeth, a brighter day dawned upon him. During herretirement at Woodstock, her servants appear to have consulted him as tothe time of Mary's death, which circumstance no doubt first gave rise tothe serious charge for which he was brought to trial. They now came toconsult him more openly as to the fortunes of their mistress; and RobertDudley, the celebrated Earl of Leicester, was sent by command of the Queenherself to know the most auspicious day for her coronation. So great wasthe favour he enjoyed, that, some years afterwards, Elizabeth condescendedto pay him a visit at his house in Mortlake, to view his museum ofcuriosities, and when he was ill, sent her own physician to attend uponhim. 

Astrology was the means whereby he lived, and he continued to practise itwith great assiduity; but his heart was in alchymy. The philosopher'sstone and the elixir of life haunted his daily thoughts and his nightlydreams. The Talmudic mysteries, which he had also deeply studied, impressed him with the belief, that he might hold converse with spiritsand angels, and learn from them all the mysteries of the universe. Holdingthe same idea as the then obscure sect of the Rosicrucians, some of whomhe had perhaps encountered in his travels in Germany, he imagined that, bymeans of the philosopher's stone, he could summon these kindly spirits athis will. By dint of continually brooding upon the subject, hisimagination became so diseased, that he at last persuaded himself that anangel appeared to him, and promised to be his friend and companion as longas he lived. He relates that, one day, in November 1582, while he wasengaged in fervent prayer, the window of his museum looking towards thewest suddenly glowed with a dazzling light, in the midst of which, in allhis glory, stood the great angel Uriel. Awe and wonder rendered himspeechless; but the angel smiling graciously upon him, gave him a crystal, of a convex form, and told him that whenever he wished to hold conversewith the beings of another sphere, he had only to gaze intently upon it, and they would appear in the crystal, and unveil to him all the secrets offuturity. [41] Thus saying, the angel disappeared. Dee found fromexperience of the crystal that it was necessary that all the faculties ofthe soul should be concentrated upon it, otherwise the spirits did notappear. He also found that he could never recollect the conversations hehad with the angels. He therefore determined to communicate the secret toanother person, who might converse with the spirit while he (Dee) sat inanother part of the room, and took down in writing the revelations whichthey made. 

 [41] The "crystal" alluded to appears to have been a black stone, or piece of polished coal. The following account of it is given, in the supplement to Granger's _Biographical History_. "The black stone into which Dee used to call his spirits was in the collection of the Earls of Peterborough, from whence it came to Lady Elizabeth Germaine. It was next the property of the late Duke of Argyle, and is now Mr. Walpole's. It appears upon examination to be nothing more than a polished piece of cannel coal; but this is what Butler means when he says, 'Kelly did all his feats upon The devil's looking-glass--a stone. '"

[Illustration: SHEW-STONE OF DR. DEE, IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM. ]

He had at this time in his service, as his assistant, one Edward Kelly, who, like himself, was crazy upon the subject of the philosopher's stone. There was this difference, however, between them, that, while Dee was moreof an enthusiast than an impostor, Kelly was more of an impostor than anenthusiast. In early life he was a notary, and had the misfortune to loseboth his ears for forgery. This mutilation, degrading enough in any man, was destructive to a philosopher; Kelly, therefore, lest his wisdom shouldsuffer in the world's opinion, wore a black skull-cap, which, fittingclose to his head, and descending over both his cheeks, not only concealedhis loss, but gave him a very solemn and oracular appearance. So well didhe keep his secret, that even Dee, with whom he lived so many years, appears never to have discovered it. Kelly, with this character, was justthe man to carry on any piece of roguery for his own advantage, or tonurture the delusions of his master for the same purpose. No sooner didDee inform him of the visit he had received from the glorious Uriel, thanKelly expressed such a fervour of belief, that Dee's heart glowed withdelight. He set about consulting his crystal forthwith, and on the 2d ofDecember, 1581, the spirits appeared, and held a very extraordinarydiscourse with Kelly, which Dee took down in writing. The curious readermay see this farrago of nonsense among the Harleian Mss. In the BritishMuseum. The later consultations were published in a folio volume, in 1659, by Dr. Meric Casaubon, under the title of _A true and faithful Relation ofwhat passed between Dr. John Dee and some Spirits; tending, had itsucceeded, to a general Alteration of most States and Kingdoms in theWorld_. [42]

 [42] Lilly the astrologer, in his _Life_, written by himself, frequently tells of prophecies delivered by the angels in a manner similar to the angels of Dr. Dee. He says, "The prophecies were not given vocally by the angels, but by inspection of the crystal in types and figures, or by apparition the circular way; where, at some distance, the angels appear, representing by forms, shapes, and creatures, what is demanded. It is very rare, yea even in our days, " quoth that wiseacre, "for any operator or master to hear the angels speak articulately: when they do speak, _it is like, the Irish, much in the throat_!"

The fame of these wondrous colloquies soon spread over the country, andeven reached the Continent. Dee at the same time pretended to be inpossession of the _elixir vitæ_, which he stated he had found among theruins of Glastonbury Abbey, in Somersetshire. People flocked from far andnear to his house at Mortlake to have their nativities cast, in preferenceto visiting astrologers of less renown. They also longed to see a man who, according to his own account, would never die. Altogether, he carried on avery profitable trade, but spent so much in drugs and metals to work outsome peculiar process of transmutation, that he never became rich. 

About this time there came into England a wealthy polish nobleman, namedAlbert Laski, Count Palatine of Siradz. His object was principally, hesaid, to visit the court of Queen Elizabeth, the fame of whose glory andmagnificence had reached him in distant Poland. Elizabeth received thisflattering stranger with the most splendid hospitality, and appointed herfavourite Leicester to shew him all that was worth seeing in England. Hevisited all the curiosities of London and Westminster, and from thenceproceeded to Oxford and Cambridge, that he might converse with some of thegreat scholars whose writings shed lustre upon the land of their birth. Hewas very much disappointed at not finding Dr. Dee among them, and told theEarl of Leicester that he would not have gone to Oxford if he had knownthat Dee was not there. The earl promised to introduce him to the greatalchymist on their return to London, and the Pole was satisfied. A fewdays afterwards, the earl and Laski being in the antechamber of the Queen, awaiting an audience of her majesty, Dr. Dee arrived on the same errand, and was introduced to the Pole. [43] An interesting conversation ensued, which ended by the stranger inviting himself to dine with the astrologerat his house at Mortlake. Dee returned home in some tribulation, for hefound he had not money enough, without pawning his plate, to entertainCount Laski and his retinue in a manner becoming their dignity. In thisemergency he sent off an express to the Earl of Leicester, stating franklythe embarrassment he laboured under, and praying his good offices inrepresenting the matter to her majesty. Elizabeth immediately sent him apresent of twenty pounds. 

 [43] Albert Laski, son of Jaroslav, was Palatine of Siradz, and afterwards of Sendomir, and chiefly contributed to the election of Henry of Valois, the Third of France, to the throne of Poland, and was one of the delegates who went to France in order to announce to the new monarch his elevation to the sovereignty of Poland. After the deposition of Henry, Albert Laski voted for Maximilian of Austria. In 1583 he visited England, when Queen Elizabeth received him with great distinction. The honours which were shewn him during his visit to Oxford, by the especial command of the Queen, were equal to those rendered to sovereign princes. His extraordinary prodigality rendered his enormous wealth insufficient to defray his expenses, and he therefore became a zealous adept in alchymy, and took from England to Poland with him two known alchymists. --Count Valerian Krasinski's _Historical Sketch of the Reformation in Poland_. 

On the appointed day Count Laski came, attended by a numerous retinue, andexpressed such open and warm admiration of the wonderful attainments ofhis host, that Dee turned over in his own mind how he could bindirretrievably to his interests a man who seemed so well inclined to becomehis friend. Long acquaintance with Kelly had imbued him with all theroguery of that personage, and he resolved to make the Pole pay dearly forhis dinner. He found out before many days that he possessed great estatesin his own country, as well as great influence, but that an extravagantdisposition had reduced him to temporary embarrassment. He also discoveredthat he was a firm believer in the philosopher's stone and the water oflife. He was therefore just the man upon whom an adventurer might fastenhimself. Kelly thought so too; and both of them set to work to weave aweb, in the meshes of which they might firmly entangle the rich andcredulous stranger. They went very cautiously about it; first throwing outobscure hints of the stone and the elixir, and finally of the spirits, bymeans of whom they could turn over the pages of the book of futurity, andread the awful secrets inscribed therein. Laski eagerly implored that hemight be admitted to one of their mysterious interviews with Uriel and theangels; but they knew human nature too well to accede at once to therequest. To the count's entreaties they only replied by hints of thedifficulty or impropriety of summoning the spirits in the presence of astranger, or of one who might perchance have no other motive than thegratification of a vain curiosity; but they only meant to whet the edge ofhis appetite by this delay, and would have been sorry indeed if the counthad been discouraged. To shew how exclusively the thoughts both of Dee andKelly were fixed upon their dupe at this time, it is only necessary toread the introduction to their first interview with the spirits, relatedin the volume of Dr. Casaubon. The entry made by Dee, under the date ofthe 25th of May, 1583, says, that when the spirit appeared to them, "I[John Dee] and E. K. [Edward Kelly] sat together, conversing of that noblePolonian Albertus Laski, his great honour here with us obtained, and ofhis great liking among all sorts of the people. " No doubt they werediscussing how they might make the most of the "noble Polonian, " andconcocting the fine story with which they afterwards excited hiscuriosity, and drew him firmly within their toils. "Suddenly, " says Dee, as they were thus employed, "there seemed to come out of the oratory aspiritual creature, like a pretty girl of seven or nine years of age, attired on her head, with her hair rolled up before and hanging downbehind, with a gown of silk, of changeable red and green, and with atrain. She seemed to play up and down, and seemed to go in and out behindthe books; and as she seemed to go between them, the books displacedthemselves, and made way for her. "

With such tales as these they lured on the Pole from day to day, and atlast persuaded him to be a witness of their mysteries. Whether they playedoff any optical delusions upon him, or whether, by the force of a strongimagination, he deluded himself, does not appear, but certain it is thathe became a complete tool in their hands, and consented to do whateverthey wished him. Kelly, at these interviews, placed himself at a certaindistance from the wondrous crystal, and gazed intently upon it, while Deetook his place in a corner, ready to set down the prophecies as they wereuttered by the spirits. In this manner they prophesied to the Pole that heshould become the fortunate possessor of the philosopher's stone; that heshould live for centuries, and be chosen King of Poland, in which capacityhe should gain many great victories over the Saracens, and make his nameillustrious over all the earth. For this purpose it was necessary, however, that Laski should leave England, and take them with him, togetherwith their wives and families; that he should treat them all sumptuously, and allow them to want for nothing. Laski at once consented; and veryshortly afterwards they were all on the road to Poland. 

It took them upwards of four months to reach the count's estates in theneighbourhood of Cracow. In the mean time, they led a pleasant life, andspent money with an unsparing hand. When once established in the count'spalace, they commenced the great hermetic operation of transmuting ironinto gold. Laski provided them with all necessary materials, and aidedthem himself with his knowledge of alchymy; but, somehow or other, theexperiment always failed at the very moment it ought to have succeeded, and they were obliged to recommence operations on a grander scale. But thehopes of Laski were not easily extinguished. Already, in idea, thepossessor of countless millions, he was not to be cast down for fear ofpresent expenses. He thus continued from day to day, and from month tomonth, till he was at last obliged to sell a portion of hisdeeply-mortgaged estates to find aliment for the hungry crucibles of Deeand Kelly, and the no less hungry stomachs of their wives and families. Itwas not till ruin stared him in the face that he awoke from his dream ofinfatuation, too happy, even then, to find that he had escaped utterbeggary. Thus restored to his senses, his first thought was how to ridhimself of his expensive visitors. Not wishing to quarrel with them, heproposed that they should proceed to Prague, well furnished with lettersof recommendation to the Emperor Rudolph. Our alchymists too plainly sawthat nothing more was to be made of the almost destitute Count Laski. Without hesitation, therefore, they accepted the proposal, and set outforthwith to the imperial residence. They had no difficulty, on theirarrival at Prague, in obtaining an audience of the emperor. They found himwilling enough to believe that such a thing as the philosopher's stoneexisted, and flattered themselves that they had made a favourableimpression upon him; but, from some cause or other--perhaps the look oflow cunning and quackery upon the face of Kelly--the emperor conceived novery high opinion of their abilities. He allowed them, however, to remainfor some months at Prague, feeding themselves upon the hope that he wouldemploy them; but the more he saw of them, the less he liked them; and, when the pope's nuncio represented to him that he ought not to countenancesuch heretic magicians, he gave orders that they should quit his dominionswithin four-and-twenty hours. It was fortunate for them that so littletime was given them; for, had they remained six hours longer, the nunciohad received orders to procure a perpetual dungeon or the stake for them. 

Not knowing well whither to direct their steps, they resolved to return toCracow, where they had still a few friends; but, by this time, the fundsthey had drawn from Laski were almost exhausted, and they were many daysobliged to go dinnerless and supperless. They had great difficulty to keeptheir poverty a secret from the world; but they managed to bear privationwithout murmuring, from a conviction that if the fact were known, it wouldmilitate very much against their pretensions. Nobody would believe thatthey were possessors of the philosopher's stone, if it were once suspectedthat they did not know how to procure bread for their subsistence. Theystill gained a little by casting nativities, and kept starvation at arm'slength, till a new dupe, rich enough for their purposes, dropped intotheir toils, in the shape of a royal personage. Having procured anintroduction to Stephen king of Poland, they predicted to him that theEmperor Rudolph would shortly be assassinated, and that the Germans wouldlook to Poland for his successor. As this prediction was not preciseenough to satisfy the king, they tried their crystal again, and a spiritappeared who told them that the new sovereign of Germany would be Stephenof Poland. Stephen was credulous enough to believe them, and was oncepresent when Kelly held his mystic conversations with the shadows of hiscrystal. He also appears to have furnished them with money to carry ontheir experiments in alchymy; but he grew tired, at last, of their brokenpromises and their constant drains upon his pocket, and was on the pointof discarding them with disgrace, when they met with another dupe, to whomthey eagerly transferred their services. This was Count Rosenberg, anobleman of large estates at Trebona in Bohemia. So comfortable did theyfind themselves in the palace of this munificent patron, that theyremained nearly four years with him, faring sumptuously, and having analmost unlimited command of his money. The count was more ambitious thanavaricious: he had wealth enough, and did not care for the philosopher'sstone on account of the gold, but of the length of days it would bringhim. They had their predictions, accordingly, all ready framed to suit hischaracter. They prophesied that he should be chosen king of Poland; andpromised, moreover, that he should live for five hundred years to enjoyhis dignity, provided always that he found them sufficient money to carryon their experiments. 

But now, while fortune smiled upon them, while they revelled in therewards of successful villany, retributive justice came upon them in ashape they had not anticipated. Jealousy and mistrust sprang up betweenthe two confederates, and led to such violent and frequent quarrels, thatDee was in constant fear of exposure. Kelly imagined himself a muchgreater personage than Dee; measuring, most likely, by the standard ofimpudent roguery; and was displeased that on all occasions, and from allpersons, Dee received the greater share of honour and consideration. Heoften threatened to leave Dee to shift for himself; and the latter, whohad degenerated into the mere tool of his more daring associate, wasdistressed beyond measure at the prospect of his desertion. His mind wasso deeply imbued with superstition, that he believed the rhapsodies ofKelly to be, in a great measure, derived from his intercourse with angels;and he knew not where, in the whole world, to look for a man of depth andwisdom enough to succeed him. As their quarrels every day became more andmore frequent, Dee wrote letters to Queen Elizabeth to secure a favourablereception on his return to England, whither he intended to proceed ifKelly forsook him. He also sent her a round piece of silver, which hepretended he had made of a portion of brass cut out of a warming-pan. Heafterwards sent her the warming-pan also, that she might convince herselfthat the piece of silver corresponded exactly with the hole which was cutinto the brass. While thus preparing for the worst, his chief desire wasto remain in Bohemia with Count Rosenberg, who treated him well, andreposed much confidence in him. Neither had Kelly any great objection toremain; but a new passion had taken possession of his breast, and he waslaying deep schemes to gratify it. His own wife was ill-favoured andill-natured; Dee's was comely and agreeable; and he longed to make anexchange of partners without exciting the jealousy or shocking themorality of Dee. This was a difficult matter; but to a man like Kelly, whowas as deficient in rectitude and right feeling as he was full ofimpudence and ingenuity, the difficulty was not insurmountable. He hadalso deeply studied the character and the foibles of Dee; and he took hismeasures accordingly. The next time they consulted the spirits, Kellypretended to be shocked at their language, and refused to tell Dee whatthey had said. Dee insisted, and was informed that they were henceforth tohave their wives in common. Dee, a little startled, inquired whether thespirits might not mean that they were to live in common harmony andgood-will? Kelly tried again, with apparent reluctance, and said thespirits insisted upon the literal interpretation. The poor fanatic Deeresigned himself to their will; but it suited Kelly's purpose to appearcoy a little longer. He declared that the spirits must be spirits not ofgood, but of evil; and refused to consult them any more. He thereupon tookhis departure, saying that he would never return. 

Dee, thus left to himself, was in sore trouble and distress of mind. Heknew not on whom to fix as the successor to Kelly for consulting thespirits; but at last chose his son Arthur, a boy of eight years of age. Heconsecrated him to this service with great ceremony, and impressed uponthe child's mind the dignified and awful nature of the duties he wascalled upon to perform; but the poor boy had neither the imagination, thefaith, nor the artifice of Kelly. He looked intently upon the crystal ashe was told; but could see nothing and hear nothing. At last, when hiseyes ached, he said he could see a vague indistinct shadow, but nothingmore. Dee was in despair. The deception had been carried on so long, thathe was never so happy as when he fancied he was holding converse withsuperior beings; and he cursed the day that had put estrangement betweenhim and his dear friend Kelly. This was exactly what Kelly had foreseen;and, when he thought the doctor had grieved sufficiently for his absence, he returned unexpectedly, and entered the room where the little Arthur wasin vain endeavouring to distinguish something in the crystal. Dee, inentering this circumstance in his journal, ascribes this sudden return toa "miraculous fortune" and a "divine fate;" and goes on to record thatKelly immediately saw the spirits which had remained invisible to littleArthur. One of these spirits reiterated the previous command, that theyshould have their wives in common. Kelly bowed his head and submitted; andDee, in all humility, consented to the arrangement. 

This was the extreme depth of the wretched man's degradation. In thismanner they continued to live for three or four months, when, new quarrelsbreaking out, they separated once more. This time their separation wasfinal. Kelly, taking the _elixir_ which he had found in Glastonbury Abbey, proceeded to Prague, forgetful of the abrupt mode in which he hadpreviously been expelled from that city. Almost immediately after hisarrival, he was seized by order of the Emperor Rudolph, and thrown intoprison. He was released after some months' confinement, and continued forfive years to lead a vagabond life in Germany, telling fortunes at oneplace, and pretending to make gold at another. He was a second time throwninto prison, on a charge of heresy and sorcery; and he then resolved, ifever he obtained his liberty, to return to England. He soon discoveredthat there was no prospect of this, and that his imprisonment was likelyto be for life. He twisted his bed-clothes into a rope, one stormy nightin February 1595, and let himself down from the window of his dungeon, situated at the top of a very high tower. Being a corpulent man, the ropegave way, and he was precipitated to the ground. He broke two of his ribsand both his legs; and was otherwise so much injured, that he expired afew days afterwards. 

Dee, for a while, had more prosperous fortune. The warming-pan he had sentto Queen Elizabeth was not without effect. He was rewarded soon afterKelly had left him with an invitation to return to England. His pride, which had been sorely humbled, sprang up again to its pristine dimensions, and he set out from Bohemia with a train of attendants becoming anambassador. How he procured the money does not appear, unless from theliberality of the rich Bohemian Rosenberg, or perhaps from his plunder. Hetravelled with three coaches for himself and family, and three wagons tocarry his baggage. Each coach had four horses, and the whole train wasprotected by a guard of four and twenty soldiers. This statement may bedoubted; but it is on the authority of Dee himself, who made it on oathbefore the commissioners appointed by Elizabeth to inquire into hiscircumstances. On his arrival in England he had an audience of the queen, who received him kindly as far as words went, and gave orders that heshould not be molested in his pursuits of chemistry and philosophy. A manwho boasted of the power to turn baser metals into gold, could not, thought Elizabeth, be in want of money; and she therefore gave him no moresubstantial marks of her approbation than her countenance and protection. 

Thrown thus unexpectedly upon his own resources, Dee began in earnest thesearch for the philosopher's stone. He worked incessantly among hisfurnaces, retorts, and crucibles, and almost poisoned himself withdeleterious fumes. He also consulted his miraculous crystal; but thespirits appeared not to him. He tried one Bartholomew to supply the placeof the invaluable Kelly; but he being a man of some little probity, and ofno imagination at all, the spirits would not hold any communication withhim. Dee then tried another pretender to philosophy, of the name ofHickman, but had no better fortune. The crystal had lost its power sincethe departure of its great high priest. From this quarter, then, Dee couldget no information on the stone or elixir of the alchymists, and all hisefforts to discover them by other means were not only fruitless butexpensive. He was soon reduced to great distress, and wrote piteousletters to the queen praying relief. He represented that, after he leftEngland with Count Laski, the mob had pillaged his house at Mortlake, accusing him of being a necromancer and a wizard; and had broken all hisfurniture, burned his library, consisting of four thousand rare volumes, and destroyed all the philosophical instruments and curiosities in hismuseum. For this damage he claimed compensation; and furthermore stated, that, as he had come to England by the queen's command, she ought to paythe expenses of his journey. Elizabeth sent him small sums of money atvarious times; but Dee still continuing his complaints, a commission wasappointed to inquire into his circumstances. He finally obtained a smallappointment as Chancellor of St. Paul's cathedral, which he exchanged, in1595, for the wardenship of the college at Manchester. He remained in thiscapacity till 1602 or 1603, when, his strength and intellect beginning tofail him, he was compelled to resign. He retired to his old dwelling atMortlake, in a state not far removed from actual want, supporting himselfas a common fortune-teller, and being often obliged to sell or pawn hisbooks to procure a dinner. James I. Was often applied to on his behalf, but he refused to do any thing for him. It may be said to the discredit ofthis king, that the only reward he would grant the indefatigable Stowe, inhis days of old age and want, was the royal permission to beg; but no onewill blame him for neglecting such a quack as John Dee. He died in 1608, in the eighty-first year of his age, and was buried at Mortlake. 

THE COSMOPOLITE. 

Many disputes have arisen as to the real name of the alchymist who wroteseveral works under the above designation. The general opinion is that hewas a Scotsman named Seton, and that by a fate very common to alchymistswho boasted too loudly of their powers of transmutation, he ended his daysmiserably in a dungeon, into which he was thrown by a German potentateuntil he made a million of gold to pay his ransom. By some he has beenconfounded with Michael Sendivog, or Sendivogius, a Pole, a professor ofthe same art, who made a great noise in Europe at the commencement of theseventeenth century. Lenglet du Fresnoy, who is in general well informedwith respect to the alchymists, inclines to the belief that thesepersonages were distinct; and gives the following particulars of theCosmopolite, extracted from George Morhoff, in his _Epistola adLangelottum_, and other writers. 

About the year 1600, one Jacob Haussen, a Dutch pilot, was shipwrecked onthe coast of Scotland. A gentleman, named Alexander Seton, put off in aboat, and saved him from drowning, and afterwards entertained himhospitably for many weeks at his house on the shore. Haussen saw that hewas addicted to the pursuits of chemistry, but no conversation on thesubject passed between them at the time. About a year and a halfafterwards, Haussen being then at home at Enkhuysen, in Holland, receiveda visit from his former host. He endeavoured to repay the kindness thathad been shewn him; and so great a friendship arose between them thatSeton, on his departure, offered to make him acquainted with the greatsecret of the philosopher's stone. In his presence the Scotsman transmuteda great quantity of base metal into pure gold, and gave it him as a markof his esteem. Seton then took leave of his friend, and travelled intoGermany. At Dresden he made no secret of his wonderful powers, having, itis said, performed transmutation successfully before a great assemblage ofthe learned men of that city. The circumstance coming to the ears of theDuke or Elector of Saxony, he gave orders for the arrest of the alchymist. He caused him to be imprisoned in a high tower, and set a guard of fortymen to watch that he did not escape, and that no strangers were admittedto his presence. The unfortunate Seton received several visits from theelector, who used every art of persuasion to make him divulge his secret. Seton obstinately refused either to communicate his secret, or to make anygold for the tyrant; on which he was stretched upon the rack, to see ifthe argument of torture would render him more tractable. The result wasstill the same; neither hope of reward nor fear of anguish could shakehim. For several months he remained in prison, subjected alternately to asedative and a violent regimen, till his health broke, and he wasted awayalmost to a skeleton. 

There happened at that time to be in Dresden a learned Pole, named MichaelSendivogius, who had wasted a good deal of his time and substance in theunprofitable pursuits of alchymy. He was touched with pity for the hardfate, and admiration for the intrepidity of Seton; and determined, ifpossible, to aid him in escaping from the clutch of his oppressor. Herequested the elector's permission to see the alchymist, and obtained itwith some difficulty. He found him in a state of great wretchedness, shutup from the light of day in a noisome dungeon, and with no better couch orfare than those allotted to the worst of criminals. Seton listened eagerlyto the proposal of escape, and promised the generous Pole that he wouldmake him richer than an eastern monarch if by his means he were liberated. Sendivogius immediately commenced operations; he sold some property whichhe possessed near Cracow, and with the proceeds led a merry life atDresden. He gave the most elegant suppers, to which he regularly invitedthe officers of the guard, and especially those who did duty at the prisonof the alchymist. He insinuated himself at last into their confidence, andobtained free ingress to his friend as often as he pleased; pretendingthat he was using his utmost endeavours to conquer his obstinacy and wormhis secret out of him. When their project was ripe, a day was fixed uponfor the grand attempt; and Sendivogius was ready with a post-chariot toconvey him with all speed into Poland. By drugging some wine which hepresented to the guards of the prison, he rendered them so drowsy that heeasily found means to scale a wall unobserved, with Seton, and effect hisescape. Seton's wife was in the chariot awaiting him, having safely in herpossession a small packet of a black powder, which was, in fact, thephilosopher's stone, or ingredient for the transmutation of iron andcopper into gold. They all arrived in safety at Cracow; but the frame ofSeton was so wasted by torture of body and starvation, to say nothing ofthe anguish of mind he had endured, that he did not long survive. He diedin Cracow, in 1603 or 1604, and was buried under the cathedral church ofthat city. Such is the story related of the author of the various workswhich bear the name of the Cosmopolite. A list of them may be found in thethird volume of the _History of the Hermetic Philosophy_. 

SENDIVOGIUS. 

On the death of Seton, Sendivogius married his widow, hoping to learn fromher some of the secrets of her deceased lord in the art of transmutation. The ounce of black powder stood him, however, in better service; for thealchymists say, that by its means he converted great quantities ofquicksilver into the purest gold. It is also said that he performed thisexperiment successfully before the Emperor Rudolph II. , at Prague; andthat the emperor, to commemorate the circumstance, caused a marble tabletto be affixed to the wall of the room in which it was performed, bearingthis inscription, "Faciat hoc quispiam alius, quod fecit SendivogiusPolonus. " M. Desnoyers, secretary to the Princess Mary of Gonzaga, Queenof Poland, writing from Warsaw in 1651, says that he saw this tablet, which existed at that time, and was often visited by the curious. 

The after-life of Sendivogius is related in a Latin memoir of him by oneBrodowski, his steward; and is inserted by Pierre Borel in his _Treasureof Gaulish Antiquities_. The Emperor Rudolph, according to this authority, was so well pleased with his success, that he made him one of hiscouncillors of state, and invited him to fill a station in the royalhousehold and inhabit the palace. But Sendivogius loved his liberty, andrefused to become a courtier. He preferred to reside on his ownpatrimonial estate of Gravarna, where, for many years, he exercised aprincely hospitality. His philosophic powder, which, his steward says, wasred, and not black, he kept in a little box of gold; and with one grain ofit he could make five hundred ducats, or a thousand rix-dollars. Hegenerally made his projection upon quicksilver. When he travelled, he gavethis box to his steward, who hung it round his neck by a gold chain nexthis skin. But the greatest part of the powder he used to hide in a secretplace cut into the step of his chariot. He thought that, if attacked atany time by robbers, they would not search such a place as that. When heanticipated any danger, he would dress himself in his valet's clothes, and, mounting the coach-box, put the valet inside. He was induced to takethese precautions, because it was no secret that he possessed thephilosopher's stone; and many unprincipled adventurers were on the watchfor an opportunity to plunder him. A German prince, whose name Brodowskihas not thought fit to chronicle, served him a scurvy trick, which everafterwards put him on his guard. This prince went on his knees toSendivogius, and entreated him in the most pressing terms to satisfy hiscuriosity, by converting some quicksilver into gold before him. Sendivogius, wearied by his importunity, consented, upon a promise ofinviolable secrecy. After his departure, the prince called a Germanalchymist, named Muhlenfels, who resided in his house, and told him allthat had been done. Muhlenfels entreated that he might have a dozenmounted horsemen at his command, that he might instantly ride after thephilosopher, and either rob him of all his powder, or force from him thesecret of making it. The prince desired nothing better; Muhlenfels, beingprovided with twelve men well mounted and armed, pursued Sendivogius inhot haste. He came up with him at a lonely inn by the road-side, just ashe was sitting down to dinner. He at first endeavoured to persuade him todivulge the secret; but finding this of no avail, he caused hisaccomplices to strip the unfortunate Sendivogius and tie him naked to oneof the pillars of the house. He then took from him his golden box, containing a small quantity of the powder; a manuscript book on thephilosopher's stone; a golden medal, with its chain, presented to him bythe Emperor Rudolph; and a rich cap, ornamented with diamonds, of thevalue of one hundred thousand rix-dollars. With this booty he decamped, leaving Sendivogius still naked and firmly bound to the pillar. Hisservants had been treated in a similar manner; but the people of the innreleased them all as soon as the robbers were out of sight. 

Sendivogius proceeded to Prague, and made his complaint to the emperor. Anexpress was instantly sent off to the prince, with orders that he shoulddeliver up Muhlenfels and all his plunder. The prince, fearful of theemperor's wrath, caused three large gallows to be erected in hiscourt-yard; on the highest of which he hanged Muhlenfels, with anotherthief on each side of him. He thus propitiated the emperor, and got rid ofan ugly witness against himself. He sent back, at the same time, thebejewelled hat, the medal and chain, and the treatise upon thephilosopher's stone, which had been stolen from Sendivogius. As regardedthe powder, he said he had not seen it, and knew nothing about it. 

This adventure made Sendivogius more prudent; he would no longer performthe process of transmutation before any strangers, however highlyrecommended. He pretended also to be very poor; and sometimes lay in bedfor weeks together, that people might believe he was suffering from somedangerous malady, and could not therefore, by any possibility, be theowner of the philosopher's stone. He would occasionally coin false money, and pass it off as gold; preferring to be esteemed a cheat rather than asuccessful alchymist. 

Many other extraordinary tales are told of this personage by his stewardBrodowski, but they are not worth repeating. He died in 1636, aged upwardsof eighty, and was buried in his own chapel at Gravarna. Several worksupon alchymy have been published under his name. 

THE ROSICRUCIANS. 

It was during the time of the last-mentioned author that the sect of theRosicrucians first began to create a sensation in Europe. The influencewhich they exercised upon opinion during their brief career, and thepermanent impression which they have left upon European literature, claimfor them especial notice. Before their time, alchymy was but a grovellingdelusion; and theirs is the merit of having spiritualised and refined it. They also enlarged its sphere, and supposed the possession of thephilosopher's stone to be, not only the means of wealth, but of health andhappiness, and the instrument by which man could command the services ofsuperior beings, control the elements to his will, defy the obstructionsof time and space, and acquire the most intimate knowledge of all thesecrets of the universe. Wild and visionary as they were, they were notwithout their uses; if it were only for having purged the superstitions ofEurope of the dark and disgusting forms with which the monks had peopledit, and substituted, in their stead, a race of mild, graceful, andbeneficent beings. 

They are said to have derived their name from Christian Rosencreutz, or"Rose-cross, " a German philosopher, who travelled in the Holy Land towardsthe close of the fourteenth century. While dangerously ill at a placecalled Damcar, he was visited by some learned Arabs, who claimed him astheir brother in science, and unfolded to him, by inspiration, all thesecrets of his past life, both of thought and of action. They restored himto health by means of the philosopher's stone, and afterwards instructedhim in all their mysteries. He returned to Europe in 1401, being then onlytwenty-three years of age; and drew a chosen number of his friends aroundhim, whom he initiated into the new science, and bound by solemn oaths tokeep it secret for a century. He is said to have lived eighty-three yearsafter this period, and to have died in 1484. 

Many have denied the existence of such a personage as Rosencreutz, andhave fixed the origin of this sect at a much later epoch. The firstdawning of it, they say, is to be found in the theories of Paracelsus andthe dreams of Dr. Dee, who, without intending it, became the actual, though never the recognised founders of the Rosicrucian philosophy. It isnow difficult, and indeed impossible, to determine whether Dee andParacelsus obtained their ideas from the then obscure and unknownRosicrucians, or whether the Rosicrucians did but follow and improve uponthem. Certain it is, that their existence was never suspected till theyear 1605, when they began to excite attention in Germany. No sooner weretheir doctrines promulgated, than all the visionaries, Paracelsists, andalchymists, flocked around their standard, and vaunted Rosencreutz as thenew regenerator of the human race. Michael Mayer, a celebrated physicianof that day, and who had impaired his health and wasted his fortune insearching for the philosopher's stone, drew up a report of the tenets andordinances of the new fraternity, which was published at Cologne, in theyear 1615. They asserted, in the first place, "that the meditations oftheir founders surpassed every thing that had ever been imagined since thecreation of the world, without even excepting the revelations of theDeity; that they were destined to accomplish the general peace andregeneration of man before the end of the world arrived; that theypossessed all wisdom and piety in a supreme degree; that they possessedall the graces of nature, and could distribute them among the rest ofmankind according to their pleasure; that they were subject to neitherhunger, nor thirst, nor disease, nor old age, nor to any otherinconvenience of nature; that they knew by inspiration, and at the firstglance, every one who was worthy to be admitted into their society; thatthey had the same knowledge then which they would have possessed if theyhad lived from the beginning of the world, and had been always acquiringit; that they had a volume in which they could read all that ever was orever would be written in other books till the end of time; that they couldforce to, and retain in their service the most powerful spirits anddemons; that, by the virtue of their songs, they could attract pearls andprecious stones from the depths of the sea or the bowels of the earth;that God had covered them with a thick cloud, by means of which they couldshelter themselves from the malignity of their enemies, and that theycould thus render themselves invisible from all eyes; that the first eightbrethren of the 'Rose-cross' had power to cure all maladies; that, bymeans of the fraternity, the triple diadem of the pope would be reducedinto dust; that they only admitted two sacraments, with the ceremonies ofthe primitive Church, renewed by them; that they recognised the FourthMonarchy and the Emperor of the Romans as their chief and the chief of allChristians; that they would provide him with more gold, their treasuresbeing inexhaustible, than the King of Spain had ever drawn from the goldenregions of Eastern and Western Ind. " This was their confession of faith. Their rules of conduct were six in number, and as follow:

First. That, in their travels, they should gratuitously cure all diseases. 

Secondly. That they should always dress in conformity to the fashion ofthe country in which they resided. 

Thirdly. That they should, once every year, meet together in the placeappointed by the fraternity, or send in writing an available excuse. 

Fourthly. That every brother, whenever he felt inclined to die, shouldchoose a person worthy to succeed him. 

Fifthly. That the words "Rose-cross" should be the marks by which theyshould recognise each other. 

Sixthly. That their fraternity should be kept secret for six times twentyyears. 

They asserted that these laws had been found inscribed in a golden book inthe tomb of Rosencreutz, and that the six times twenty years from hisdeath expired in 1604. They were consequently called upon from that timeforth to promulgate their doctrine for the welfare of mankind[44]. 

 [44] The following legend of the tomb of Rosencreutz, written by Eustace Budgell, appears in No. 379 of the _Spectator_:--"A certain person, having occasion to dig somewhat deep in the ground where this philosopher lay interred, met with a small door, having a wall on each side of it. His curiosity, and the hope of finding some hidden treasure, soon prompted him to force open the door. He was immediately surprised by a sudden blaze of light, and discovered a very fair vault. At the upper end of it was a statue of a man in armour, sitting by a table, and leaning on his left arm. He held a truncheon in his right hand, and had a lamp burning before him. The man had no sooner set one foot within the vault, than the statue, erecting itself from its leaning posture, stood bolt upright; and, upon the fellow's advancing another step, lifted up the truncheon in his right hand. The man still ventured a third step; when the statue, with a furious blow, broke the lamp into a thousand pieces, and left his guest in sudden darkness. Upon the report of this adventure, the country people came with lights to the sepulchre, and discovered that the statue, which was made of brass, was nothing more than a piece of clock-work; that the floor of the vault was all loose, and underlaid with several springs, which, upon any man's entering, naturally produced that which had happened. 

 "Rosicreucius, say his disciples, made use of this method to shew the world that he had re-invented the ever-burning lamps of the ancients, though he was resolved no one should reap any advantage from the discovery. "

For eight years these enthusiasts made converts in Germany, but theyexcited little or no attention in other parts of Europe. At last they madetheir appearance in Paris, and threw all the learned, all the credulous, and all the lovers of the marvellous into commotion. In the beginning ofMarch 1623, the good folks of that city, when they arose one morning, weresurprised to find all their walls placarded with the following singularmanifesto:

"_We, the deputies of the principal College of the Brethren of theRose-cross, have taken up our abode, visible and invisible, in this city, by the grace of the Most High, towards whom are turned the hearts of thejust. We shew and teach without books or signs, and speak all sorts oflanguages in the countries where we dwell, to draw mankind, our fellows, from error and from death_. "

For a long time this strange placard was the sole topic of conversation inall public places. Some few wondered, but the greater number only laughedat it. In the course of a few weeks two books were published, which raisedthe first alarm respecting this mysterious society, whose dwelling-placeno one knew, and no members of which had ever been seen. The first wascalled a history of _The frightful Compacts entered into between the Deviland the pretended 'Invisibles;' with their damnable Instructions, thedeplorable Ruin of their Disciples, and their miserable end_. The otherwas called an _Examination of the new and unknown Cabala of the Brethrenof the Rose-cross, who have lately inhabited the City of Paris; with theHistory of their Manners, the Wonders worked by them, and many otherparticulars_. 

These books sold rapidly. Every one was anxious to know something of thisdreadful and secret brotherhood. The _badauds_ of Paris were so alarmedthat they daily expected to see the arch-enemy walking _in propriapersona_ among them. It was said in these volumes that the Rosicruciansociety consisted of six-and-thirty persons in all, who had renouncedtheir baptism and hope of resurrection. That it was not by means of goodangels, as they pretended, that they worked their prodigies; but that itwas the devil who gave them power to transport themselves from one end ofthe world to the other with the rapidity of thought; to speak alllanguages; to have their purses always full of money, however much theymight spend; to be invisible, and penetrate into the most secret places, in spite of fastenings of bolts and bars; and to be able to tell the pastand future. These thirty-six brethren were divided into bands orcompanies: six of them only had been sent on the mission to Paris, six toItaly, six to Spain, six to Germany, four to Sweden, and two intoSwitzerland, two into Flanders, two into Lorraine, and two into FrancheComté. It was generally believed that the missionaries to France residedsomewhere in the Marais du Temple. That quarter of Paris soon acquired abad name, and people were afraid to take houses in it, lest they should beturned out by the six invisibles of the Rose-cross. It was believed by thepopulace, and by many others whose education should have taught thembetter, that persons of a mysterious aspect used to visit the inns andhotels of Paris, and eat of the best meats and drink of the best wines, and then suddenly melt away into thin air when the landlord came with thereckoning. That gentle maidens, who went to bed alone, often awoke in thenight and found men in bed with them, of shape more beautiful than theGrecian Apollo, who immediately became invisible when an alarm was raised. It was also said that many persons found large heaps of gold in theirhouses without knowing from whence they came. All Paris was in alarm. Noman thought himself secure of his goods, no maiden of her virginity, orwife of her chastity, while these Rosicrucians were abroad. In the midstof the commotion, a second placard was issued to the following effect:

"_If any one desires to see the brethren of the Rose-cross from curiosityonly, he will never communicate with us. But if his_ will _really induceshim to inscribe his name in the register of our brotherhood, we, who canjudge of the thoughts of all men, will convince him of the truth of ourpromises. For this reason we do not publish to the world the place of ourabode. Thought alone, in unison with the sincere_ will _of those whodesire to know us, is sufficient to make us known to them, and them tous. _"

Though the existence of such a society as that of the Rose-cross wasproblematical, it was quite evident that somebody or other was concernedin the promulgation of these placards, which were stuck up on every wallin Paris. The police endeavoured in vain to find out the offenders, andtheir want of success only served to increase the perplexity of thepublic. The Church very soon took up the question; and the Abbé Gaultier, a Jesuit, wrote a book to prove that, by their enmity to the pope, theycould be no other than disciples of Luther, sent to promulgate his heresy. Their very name, he added, proved that they were heretics; a _cross_surmounted by a _rose_ being the heraldic device of the arch-hereticLuther. One Garasse said they were a confraternity of drunken impostors;and that their name was derived from the garland of roses, in the form ofa cross, hung over the tables of taverns in Germany as the emblem ofsecrecy, and from whence was derived the common saying, when one mancommunicated a secret to another, that it was said "under the rose. "Others interpreted the letters F. R. C. To mean, not Brethren of theRose-cross, but _Fratres Roris Cocti_, or Brothers of Boiled Dew; andexplained this appellation by alleging that they collected largequantities of morning dew, and boiled it, in order to extract a veryvaluable ingredient in the composition of the philosopher's stone and thewater of life. 

The fraternity thus attacked defended themselves as well as they wereable. They denied that they used magic of any kind, or that they consultedthe devil. They said they were all happy; that they had lived more than acentury, and expected to live many centuries more; and that the intimateknowledge which they possessed of all nature was communicated to them byGod himself as a reward for their piety and utter devotion to his service. Those were in error who derived their name from a cross of roses, orcalled them drunkards. To set the world right on the first point, theyreiterated that they derived their name from Christian Rosencreutz, theirfounder; and to answer the latter charge, they repeated that they knew notwhat thirst was, and had higher pleasures than those of the palate. Theydid not desire to meddle with the politics or religion of any man or setof men, although they could not help denying the supremacy of the pope, and looking upon him as a tyrant. Many slanders, they said, had beenrepeated respecting them, the most unjust of which was, that they indulgedin carnal appetites, and, under the cloak of their invisibility, creptinto the chambers of beautiful maidens. They asserted, on the contrary, that the first vow they took on entering the society was a vow ofchastity, and that any one among them who transgressed in that particularwould immediately lose all the advantages he enjoyed, and be exposed oncemore to hunger, woe, disease, and death, like other men. So strongly didthey feel on the subject of chastity, that they attributed the fall ofAdam solely to his want of this virtue. Besides defending themselves inthis manner, they entered into a further confession of their faith. Theydiscarded for ever all the old tales of sorcery and witchcraft, andcommunion with the devil. They said there were no such horrid, unnatural, and disgusting beings as the incubi and succubi, and the innumerablegrotesque imps that men had believed in for so many ages. Man was notsurrounded with enemies like these, but with myriads of beautiful andbeneficent beings, all anxious to do him service. The air was peopled withsylphs, the water with undines or naiads, the bowels of the earth withgnomes, and the fire with salamanders. All these beings were the friendsof man, and desired nothing so much as that men should purge themselves ofall uncleanness, and thus be enabled to see and converse with them. Theypossessed great power, and were unrestrained by the barriers of space orthe obstructions of matter. But man was in one particular their superior. He had an immortal soul, and they had not. They might, however, becomesharers in man's immortality if they could inspire one of that race withthe passion of love towards them. Hence it was the constant endeavour ofthe female spirits to captivate the admiration of men, and of the malegnomes, sylphs, salamanders, and undines to be beloved by a woman. Theobject of this passion, in returning their love, imparted a portion ofthat celestial fire, the soul; and from that time forth the beloved becameequal to the lover, and both, when their allotted course was run, enteredtogether into the mansions of felicity. These spirits, they said, watchedconstantly over mankind by night and day. Dreams, omens, and presentimentswere all their works, and the means by which they gave warning of theapproach of danger. But though so well inclined to befriend man for theirown sakes, the want of a soul rendered them at times capricious andrevengeful; they took offence on slight causes, and heaped injuriesinstead of benefits on the heads of those who extinguished the light ofreason that was in them by gluttony, debauchery, and other appetites ofthe body. 

The excitement produced in Paris by the placards of the brotherhood andthe attacks of the clergy wore itself away after a few months. The storiescirculated about them became at last too absurd even for that age ofabsurdity, and men began to laugh once more at those invisible gentlemenand their fantastic doctrines. Gabriel Naudé at that conjuncture broughtout his _Avis à la France sur les Frères de la Rose-croix_, in which hevery successfully exposed the folly of the new sect. This work, though notwell written, was well timed. It quite extinguished the Rosicrucians ofFrance; and after that year little more was heard of them. Swindlers indifferent parts of the country assumed the name at times to cloak theirdepredations; and now and then one of them was caught and hanged for histoo great ingenuity in enticing pearls and precious stones from thepockets of other people into his own, or for passing off lumps of gildedbrass for pure gold, made by the agency of the philosopher's stone. Withthese exceptions, oblivion shrouded them. 

The doctrine was not confined to a sphere so narrow as France alone; itstill nourished in Germany, and drew many converts in England. The lattercountries produced two great masters in the persons of Jacob Böhmen andRobert Fludd--pretended philosophers, of whom it is difficult to say whichwas the more absurd and extravagant. It would appear that the sect wasdivided into two classes--the brothers _Roseæ Crucis_, who devotedthemselves to the wonders of this sublunary sphere, and the brothers_Aureæ Crucis_, who were wholly occupied in the contemplation of thingsdivine. Fludd belonged to the first class, and Böhmen to the second. Fluddmay be called the father of the English Rosicrucians, and as such merits aconspicuous niche in the temple of Folly. 

He was born in the year 1574 at Milgate, in Kent, and was the son of SirThomas Fludd, Treasurer of War to Queen Elizabeth. He was originallyintended for the army; but he was too fond of study, and of a dispositiontoo quiet and retiring, to shine in that sphere. His father would nottherefore press him to adopt a course of life for which he was unsuited, and encouraged him in the study of medicine, for which he early manifesteda partiality. At the age of twenty-five he proceeded to the continent; andbeing fond of the abstruse, the marvellous, and the incomprehensible, hebecame an ardent disciple of the school of Paracelsus, whom he looked uponas the regenerator not only of medicine, but of philosophy. He remainedsix years in Italy, France, and Germany, storing his mind with fantasticnotions, and seeking the society of enthusiasts and visionaries. On hisreturn to England in 1605, he received the degree of Doctor of Medicinefrom the University of Oxford, and began to practise as a physician inLondon. 

He soon made himself conspicuous. He latinised his name from Robert Fluddinto Robertus à Fluctibus, and began the promulgation of many strangedoctrines. He avowed his belief in the philosopher's stone, the water oflife, and the universal alkahest; and maintained that there were but twoprinciples of all things, --which were, condensation, the boreal ornorthern virtue; and rarefaction, the southern or austral virtue. A numberof demons, he said, ruled over the human frame, whom he arranged in theirplaces in a rhomboid. Every disease had its peculiar demon who producedit, which demon could only be combated by the aid of the demon whose placewas directly opposite to his in the rhomboidal figure. Of his medicalnotions we shall have further occasion to speak in another part of thisbook, when we consider him in his character as one of the first foundersof the magnetic delusion, and its offshoot, animal magnetism, which hascreated so much sensation in our own day. 

As if the doctrines already mentioned were not wild enough, he joined theRosicrucians as soon as they began to make a sensation in Europe, andsucceeded in raising himself to high consideration among them. Thefraternity having been violently attacked by several German authors, andamong others by Libavius, Fludd volunteered a reply, and published, in1616, his defence of the Rosicrucian philosophy, under the title of the_Apologia compendiaria Fraternitatem de Rosea-cruce suspicionis et infamiæmaculis aspersam abluens_. This work immediately procured him great renownupon the Continent, and he was henceforth looked upon as one of thehigh-priests of the sect. Of so much importance was he considered, thatKeppler and Gassendi thought it necessary to refute him; and the latterwrote a complete examination of his doctrine. Mersenne also, the friend ofDescartes, and who had defended that philosopher when accused of havingjoined the Rosicrucians, attacked Dr. à Fluctibus, as he preferred to becalled, and shewed the absurdity of the brothers of the Rose-cross ingeneral, and of Dr. à Fluctibus in particular. Fluctibus wrote a longreply, in which he called Mersenne an ignorant calumniator, and reiteratedthat alchymy was a profitable science, and the Rosicrucians worthy to bethe regenerators of the world. This book was published at Frankfort, andwas entitled _Summum Bonum, quod est Magiæ, Cabalæ, Alchimiæ, Fratrum, Roseæ-Crucis verorum, et adversus Mersenium Calumniatorem_. Besides this, he wrote several other works upon alchymy, a second answer to Libaviusupon the Rosicrucians, and many medical works. He died in London in 1637. 

After his time there was some diminution of the sect in England. Theyexcited but little attention, and made no effort to bring themselves intonotice. Occasionally some obscure and almost incomprehensible work madeits appearance, to shew the world that the folly was not extinguished. Eugenius Philalethes, a noted alchymist, who has veiled his real nameunder this assumed one, translated _The Fame and Confession of theBrethren of the Rosie Cross_, which was published in London in 1652. A fewyears afterwards, another enthusiast, named John Heydon, wrote two workson the subject: the one entitled _The Wise Man's Crown, or the Glory ofthe Rosie Cross_; and the other, _The Holy Guide, leading the way to uniteArt and Nature with the Rosie Crosse uncovered_. Neither of theseattracted much notice. A third book was somewhat more successful; it wascalled _A new Method of Rosicrucian Physic; by John Heydon, the servant ofGod and the Secretary of Nature_. A few extracts will shew the ideas ofthe English Rosicrucians about this period. Its author was an attorney, "practising (to use his own words) at Westminster Hall all term times aslong as he lived, and in the vacations devoting himself to alchymical andRosicrucian meditation. " In his preface, called by him an Apologue for anEpilogue, he enlightens the public upon the true history and tenets of hissect. Moses, Elias, and Ezekiel were, he says, the most ancient masters ofthe Rosicrucian philosophy. Those few then existing in England and therest of Europe, were as the eyes and ears of the great king of theuniverse, seeing and hearing all things; seraphically illuminated;companions of the holy company of unbodied souls and immortal angels;turning themselves, Proteus-like, into any shape, and having the power ofworking miracles. The most pious and abstracted brethren could slack theplague in cities, silence the violent winds and tempests, calm the rage ofthe sea and rivers, walk in the air, frustrate the malicious aspect ofwitches, cure all diseases, and turn all metals into gold. He had known inhis time two famous brethren of the Rosie Cross, named Walfourd andWilliams, who had worked miracles in his sight, and taught him manyexcellent predictions of astrology and earthquakes. "I desired one ofthese to tell me, " says he, "whether my complexion were capable of thesociety of my good genius. 'When I see you again, ' said he (which was whenhe pleased to come to me, for I knew not where to go to him), 'I will tellyou. ' When I saw him afterwards, he said, 'You should pray to God; for agood and holy man can offer no greater or more acceptable service to Godthan the oblation of himself--his soul. ' He said also, that the good geniiwere the benign eyes of God, running to and fro in the world, and withlove and pity beholding the innocent endeavours of harmless andsingle-hearted men, ever ready to do them good and to help them. "

Heydon held devoutly true that dogma of the Rosicrucians which said thatneither eating nor drinking was necessary to men. He maintained that anyone might exist in the same manner as that singular people dwelling nearthe source of the Ganges, of whom mention was made in the travels of hisnamesake, Sir Christopher Heydon, who had no mouths, and therefore couldnot eat, but lived by the breath of their nostrils; except when they tooka far journey, and then they mended their diet with the smell of flowers. He said that in really pure air "there was a fine foreign fatness, " withwhich it was sprinkled by the sunbeams, and which was quite sufficient forthe nourishment of the generality of mankind. Those who had enormousappetites, he had no objection to see take animal food, since they couldnot do without it; but he obstinately insisted that there was no necessitywhy they should _eat_ it. If they put a plaster of nicely-cooked meat upontheir epigastrium, it would be sufficient for the wants of the most robustand voracious! They would by that means let in no diseases, as they did atthe broad and common gate, the mouth, as any one might see by example ofdrink; for all the while a man sat in water, he was never athirst. He hadknown, he said, many Rosicrucians, who by applying wine in this manner, had fasted for years together. In fact, quoth Heydon, we may easily fastall our life, though it be three hundred years, without any kind of meat, and so cut off all danger of disease. 

This "sage philosopher" further informed his wondering contemporaries thatthe chiefs of the doctrine always carried about with them to their placeof meeting their symbol, called the R. C. Which was an ebony cross, flourished and decked with roses of gold; the cross typifying Christ'ssufferings upon the cross for our sins, and the roses of gold the gloryand beauty of his Resurrection. This symbol was carried alternately toMecca, Mount Calvary, Mount Sinai, Haran, and to three other places, whichmust have been in mid-air, called _Cascle_, _Apamia_ and _ChaulateauVirissa Caunuch_, where the Rosicrucian brethren met when they pleased, and made resolution of all their actions. They always took their pleasuresin one of these places, where they resolved all questions of whatsoeverhad been done, was done, or should be done in the world, from thebeginning to the end thereof. "And these, " he concludes, "are the mencalled Rosicrucians!"

Towards the end of the seventeenth century, more rational ideas tookpossession of the sect, which still continued to boast of a few members. They appear to have considered that contentment was the true philosopher'sstone, and to have abandoned the insane search for a mere phantom of theimagination. Addison, in _The Spectator_, [45] gives an account of hisconversation with a Rosicrucian; from which it may be inferred that thesect had grown wiser in their deeds, though in their talk they were asfoolish as ever. "I was once, " says he, "engaged in discourse with aRosicrucian about the great secret. He talked of the secret as of a spiritwhich lived within an emerald, and converted every thing that was near itto the highest perfection that it was capable of. 'It gives a lustre, 'says he, 'to the sun, and water to the diamond. It irradiates every metal, and enriches lead with all the properties of gold. It heightens smoke intoflame, flame into light, and light into glory. ' He further added, 'that asingle ray of it dissipates pain and care and melancholy from the personon whom it falls. In short, ' says he, 'its presence naturally changesevery place into a kind of heaven. ' After he had gone on for some time inthis unintelligible cant, I found that he jumbled natural and moral ideastogether into the same discourse, and that his great secret was nothingelse but content. "

 [45] No. 574. Friday, July 30th, 1714. 

JACOB BÖHMEN. 

It is now time to speak of Jacob Böhmen, who thought he could discover thesecret of the transmutation of metals in the Bible, and who invented astrange heterogeneous doctrine of mingled alchymy and religion, andfounded upon it the sect of the Aurea-crucians. He was born at Görlitz, inUpper Lusatia, in 1575, and followed till his thirtieth year theoccupation of a shoemaker. In this obscurity he remained, with thecharacter of a visionary and a man of unsettled mind, until thepromulgation of the Rosicrucian philosophy in his part of Germany, towardthe year 1607 or 1608. From that time he began to neglect his leather, andburied his brain under the rubbish of metaphysics. The works of Paracelsusfell into his hands; and these, with the reveries of the Rosicrucians, socompletely engrossed his attention, that he abandoned his tradealtogether, sinking, at the same time, from a state of comparativeindependence into poverty and destitution. But he was nothing daunted bythe miseries and privations of the flesh; his mind was fixed upon thebeings of another sphere, and in thought he was already the new apostle ofthe human race. In the year 1612, after a meditation of four years, hepublished his first work, entitled _Aurora, or the Rising of the Sun_;embodying the ridiculous notions of Paracelsus, and worse confounding theconfusion of that writer. The philosopher's stone might, he contended, bediscovered by a diligent search of the Old and New Testaments, and moreespecially of the Apocalypse, which alone contained all the secrets ofalchymy. He contended that the divine grace operated by the same rules, and followed the same methods, that the divine providence observed in thenatural world; and that the minds of men were purged from their vices andcorruptions in the very same manner that metals were purified from theirdross, namely, by fire. 

Besides the sylphs, gnomes, undines, and salamanders, he acknowledgedvarious ranks and orders of demons. He pretended to invisibility andabsolute chastity. He also said that, if it pleased him, he could abstainfor years from meat and drink, and all the necessities of the body. It isneedless, however, to pursue his follies any further. He was reprimandedfor writing this work by the magistrates of Görlitz, and commanded toleave the pen alone and stick to his wax, that his family might not becomechargeable to the parish. He neglected this good advice, and continued hisstudies; burning minerals and purifying metals one day, and mystifying theWord of God on the next. He afterwards wrote three other works, assublimely ridiculous as the first. The one was entitled _Metallurgia_, andhas the slight merit of being the least obscure of his compositions. Another was called _The Temporal Mirror of Eternity_; and the last his_Theosophy revealed_, full of allegories and metaphors, "All strange and geason, Devoid of sense and ordinary reason. "

Böhmen died in 1624, leaving behind him a considerable number of admiringdisciples. Many of them became, during the seventeenth century, asdistinguished for absurdity as their master; amongst whom may be mentionedGifftheil, Wendenhagen, John Jacob Zimmermann, and Abraham Frankenberg. Their heresy rendered them obnoxious to the Church of Rome; and many ofthem suffered long imprisonment and torture for their faith. One, namedKuhlmann, was burned alive at Moscow, in 1684, on a charge of sorcery. Böhmen's works were translated into English, and published, many yearsafterwards, by an enthusiast named William Law. 

MORMIUS. 

Peter Mormius, a notorious alchymist and contemporary of Böhmen, endeavoured, in 1630, to introduce the Rosicrucian philosophy intoHolland. He applied to the States-General to grant him a public audience, that he might explain the tenets of the sect, and disclose a plan forrendering Holland the happiest and richest country on the earth, by meansof the philosopher's stone and the service of the elementary spirits. TheStates-General wisely resolved to have nothing to do with him. Hethereupon determined to shame them by printing his book, which he did atLeyden the same year. It was entitled _The Book of the most Hidden Secretsof Nature_, and was divided into three parts; the first treating of"perpetual motion;" the second of the "transmutation of metals;" and thethird of the "universal medicine. " He also published some German worksupon the Rosicrucian philosophy, at Frankfort, in 1617. 

Poetry and romance are deeply indebted to the Rosicrucians for many agraceful creation. The literature of England, France, and Germany containshundreds of sweet fictions, whose machinery has been borrowed from theirday-dreams. The "delicate Ariel" of Shakspeare stands pre-eminent amongthe number. From the same source Pope drew the airy tenants of Belinda'sdressing-room, in his charming _Rape of the Lock_; and La Motte Fouqué, the beautiful and capricious water-nymph Undine, around whom he has thrownmore grace and loveliness, and for whose imaginary woes he has excitedmore sympathy, than ever were bestowed on a supernatural being. Sir WalterScott also endowed the White Lady of Avenel with many of the attributes ofthe undines or water-sprites. German romance and lyrical poetry teem withallusions to sylphs, gnomes, undines, and salamanders; and the French havenot been behind in substituting them, in works of fiction, for the morecumbrous mythology of Greece and Rome. The sylphs, more especially, havebeen the favourites of the bards, and have become so familiar to thepopular mind as to be, in a manner, confounded with that other race ofideal beings, the fairies, who can boast of an antiquity much morevenerable in the annals of superstition. Having these obligations to theRosicrucians, no lover of poetry can wish, however absurd they were, thatsuch a sect of philosophers had never existed. 

BORRI. 

Just at the time that Michael Mayer was making known to the world theexistence of such a body as the Rosicrucians, there was born in Italy aman who was afterwards destined to become the most conspicuous member ofthe fraternity. The alchymic mania never called forth the ingenuity of amore consummate or more successful impostor than Joseph Francis Borri. Hewas born in 1616, according to some authorities, and in 1627 according toothers, at Milan; where his father, the Signor Branda Borri, practised asa physician. At the age of sixteen Joseph was sent to finish his educationat the Jesuits' college in Rome, where he distinguished himself by hisextraordinary memory. He learned every thing to which he applied himselfwith the utmost ease. In the most voluminous works no fact was too minutefor his retention, and no study was so abstruse but that he could masterit; but any advantages he might have derived from this facility wereneutralised by his ungovernable passions and his love of turmoil anddebauchery. He was involved in continual difficulty, as well with theheads of the college as with the police of Rome, and acquired so bad acharacter that years could not remove it. By the aid of his friends heestablished himself as a physician in Rome, and also obtained somesituation in the pope's household. In one of his fits of studiousness hegrew enamoured of alchymy, and determined to devote his energies to thediscovery of the philosopher's stone. Of unfortunate propensities he hadquite sufficient, besides this, to bring him to poverty. His pleasureswere as expensive as his studies, and both were of a nature to destroy hishealth and ruin his fair fame. At the age of thirty-seven he found that hecould not live by the practice of medicine, and began to look about forsome other employment. He became, in 1653, private secretary to theMarquis di Mirogli, the minister of the Archduke of Innsprück at the courtof Rome. He continued in this capacity for two years; leading, however, the same abandoned life as heretofore, frequenting the society ofgamesters, debauchees, and loose women, involving himself in disgracefulstreet quarrels, and alienating the patrons who were desirous to befriendhim. 

All at once a sudden change was observed in his conduct. The abandonedrake put on the outward sedateness of a philosopher; the scoffing sinnerproclaimed that he had forsaken his evil ways, and would live thencefortha model of virtue. To his friends this reformation was as pleasing as itwas unexpected; and Borri gave obscure hints that it had been broughtabout by some miraculous manifestation of a superior power. He pretendedthat he held converse with beneficent spirits; that the secrets of God andnature were revealed to him; and that he had obtained possession of thephilosopher's stone. Like his predecessor, Jacob Böhmen, he mixed upreligious questions with his philosophical jargon, and took measures fordeclaring himself the founder of a new sect. This, at Rome itself, and inthe very palace of the pope, was a hazardous proceeding; and Borri justawoke to a sense of it in time to save himself from the dungeons of theCastle of St. Angelo. He fled to Innsprück, where he remained about ayear, and then returned to his native city of Milan. 

[Illustration: INNSPRUCK. ]

The reputation of his great sanctity had gone before him; and he foundmany persons ready to attach themselves to his fortunes. All who weredesirous of entering into the new communion took an oath of poverty, andrelinquished their possessions for the general good of the fraternity. Borri told them that he had received from the archangel Michael a heavenlysword, upon the hilt of which were engraven the names of the sevencelestial intelligences. "Whoever shall refuse, " said he, "to enter intomy new sheepfold shall be destroyed by the papal armies, of whom God haspredestined me to be the chief. To those who follow me all joy shall begranted. I shall soon bring my chemical studies to a happy conclusion, bythe discovery of the philosopher's stone, and by this means we shall allhave as much gold as we desire. I am assured of the aid of the angelichosts, and more especially of the archangel Michael's. When I began towalk in the way of the spirit, I had a vision of the night, and wasassured by an angelic voice that I should become a prophet. In sign of itI saw a palm-tree, surrounded with all the glory of paradise. The angelscome to me whenever I call, and reveal to me all the secrets of theuniverse. The sylphs and elementary spirits obey me, and fly to theuttermost ends of the world to serve me, and those whom I delight tohonour. " By force of continually repeating such stories as these, Borrisoon found himself at the head of a very considerable number of adherents. As he figures in these pages as an alchymist, and not as a religioussectarian, it will be unnecessary to repeat the doctrines which he taughtwith regard to some of the dogmas of the Church of Rome, and which exposedhim to the fierce resentment of the papal authority. They were to the fullas ridiculous as his philosophical pretensions. As the number of hisfollowers increased, he appears to have cherished the idea of becoming oneday a new Mahomet, and of founding, in his native city of Milan, amonarchy and religion of which he should be the king and the prophet. Hehad taken measures, in the year 1658, for seizing the guards at all thegates of that city, and formally declaring himself the monarch of theMilanese. Just as he thought the plan ripe for execution, it wasdiscovered. Twenty of his followers were arrested, and he himself managed, with the utmost difficulty, to escape to the neutral territory ofSwitzerland, where the papal displeasure could not reach him. 

The trial of his followers commenced forthwith, and the whole of them weresentenced to various terms of imprisonment. Borri's trial proceeded in hisabsence, and lasted for upwards of two years. He was condemned to death asa heretic and sorcerer in 1661, and was burned in effigy in Rome by thecommon hangman. 

Borri, in the mean time, lived quietly in Switzerland, indulging himselfin railing at the Inquisition and its proceedings. He afterwards went toStrasbourg, intending to fix his residence in that town. He was receivedwith great cordiality, as a man persecuted for his religious opinions, andwithal a great alchymist. He found that sphere too narrow for his aspiringgenius, and retired in the same year to the more wealthy city ofAmsterdam. He there hired a magnificent house, established an equipagewhich eclipsed in brilliancy those of the richest merchants, and assumedthe title of Excellency. Where he got the money to live in this expensivestyle was long a secret: the adepts in alchymy easily explained it, aftertheir fashion. Sensible people were of opinion that he had come by it in aless wonderful manner; for it was remembered that among his unfortunatedisciples in Milan, there were many rich men, who, in conformity with oneof the fundamental rules of the sect, had given up all their earthlywealth into the hands of their founder. In whatever manner the money wasobtained, Borri spent it in Holland with an unsparing hand, and was lookedup to by the people with no little respect and veneration. He performedseveral able cures, and increased his reputation so much that he wasvaunted as a prodigy. He continued diligently the operations of alchymy, and was in daily expectation that he should succeed in turning theinferior metals into gold. This hope never abandoned him, even in theworst extremity of his fortunes; and in his prosperity it led him into themost foolish expenses: but he could not long continue to live somagnificently upon the funds he had brought from Italy; and thephilosopher's stone, though it promised all for the wants of the morrow, never brought any thing for the necessities of to-day. He was obliged in afew months to retrench, by giving up his large house, his gilded coach andvaluable blood-horses, his liveried domestics, and his luxuriousentertainments. With this diminution of splendour came a diminution ofrenown. His cures did not appear so miraculous, when he went out on footto perform them, as they had seemed when "his Excellency" had driven to apoor man's door in his carriage with six horses. He sank from a prodigyinto an ordinary man. His great friends shewed him the cold shoulder, andhis humble flatterers carried their incense to some other shrine. Borrinow thought it high time to change his quarters. With this view heborrowed money wherever he could get it, and succeeded in obtaining twohundred thousand florins from a merchant named De Meer, to aid, as hesaid, in discovering the water of life. He also obtained six diamonds ofgreat value, on pretence that he could remove the flaws from them withoutdiminishing their weight. With this booty he stole away secretly by night, and proceeded to Hamburgh. 

On his arrival in that city, he found the celebrated Christina, theex-queen of Sweden. He procured an introduction to her, and requested herpatronage in his endeavour to discover the philosopher's stone. She gavehim some encouragement; but Borri, fearing that the merchants ofAmsterdam, who had connexions in Hamburgh, might expose his delinquenciesif he remained in the latter city, passed over to Copenhagen, and soughtthe protection of Frederick III. , the king of Denmark. 

This prince was a firm believer in the transmutation of metals. Being inwant of money, he readily listened to the plans of an adventurer who hadboth eloquence and ability to recommend him. He provided Borri with themeans to make experiments, and took a great interest in the progress ofhis operations. He expected every month to possess riches that would buyPeru; and, when he was disappointed, accepted patiently the excuses ofBorri, who, upon every failure, was always ready with some plausibleexplanation. He became in time much attached to him; and defended him fromthe jealous attacks of his courtiers, and the indignation of those whowere grieved to see their monarch the easy dupe of a charlatan. Borriendeavoured, by every means in his power, to find aliment for this goodopinion. His knowledge of medicine was useful to him in this respect, andoften stood between him and disgrace. He lived six years in this manner atthe court of Frederick; but that monarch dying in 1670 he was left withouta protector. 

As he had made more enemies than friends in Copenhagen, and had nothing tohope from the succeeding sovereign, he sought an asylum in anothercountry. He went first to Saxony; but met so little encouragement, andencountered so much danger from the emissaries of the Inquisition, that hedid not remain there many months. Anticipating nothing but persecution inevery country that acknowledged the spiritual authority of the pope, heappears to have taken the resolution to dwell in Turkey, and turnMussulman. On his arrival at the Hungarian frontier, on his way toConstantinople, he was arrested on suspicion of being concerned in theconspiracy of the Counts Nadasdi and Frangipani, which had just beendiscovered. In vain he protested his innocence, and divulged his real nameand profession. He was detained in prison, and a letter despatched to theEmperor Leopold, to know what should be done with him. The star of hisfortunes was on the decline. The letter reached Leopold at an unluckymoment. The pope's nuncio was closeted with his majesty; and he no soonerheard the name of Joseph Francis Borri, than he demanded him as a prisonerof the Holy See. The request was complied with; and Borri, closelymanacled, was sent under an escort of soldiers to the prison of theInquisition at Rome. He was too much of an impostor to be deeply tingedwith fanaticism, and was not unwilling to make a public recantation of hisheresies, if he could thereby save his life. When the proposition was madeto him, he accepted it with eagerness. His punishment was to be commutedinto the hardly less severe one of perpetual imprisonment; but he was toohappy to escape the clutch of the executioner at any price, and he madethe _amende honorable_ in face of the assembled multitudes of Rome on the27th of October 1672. He was then transferred to the prisons of the Castleof St. Angelo, where he remained till his death, twenty-three yearsafterwards. It is said that, towards the close of his life, considerableindulgence was granted him; that he was allowed to have a laboratory, andto cheer the solitude of his dungeon by searching for the philosopher'sstone. Queen Christina, during her residence at Rome, frequently visitedthe old man, to converse with him upon chemistry and the doctrines of theRosicrucians. She even obtained permission that he should leave his prisonoccasionally for a day or two, and reside in her palace, she beingresponsible for his return to captivity. She encouraged him to search forthe great secret of the alchymists, and provided him with money for thepurpose. It may well be supposed that Borri benefited most by thisacquaintance, and that Christina got nothing but experience. It is notsure that she gained even that; for until her dying day she was convincedof the possibility of finding the philosopher's stone, and ready to assistany adventurer either zealous or impudent enough to pretend to it. 

After Borri had been about eleven years in confinement, a small volume waspublished at Cologne, entitled _The Key of the Cabinet of the ChevalierJoseph Francis Borri, in which are contained many curious Letters uponChemistry and other Sciences, written by him, together with a Memoir ofhis Life_. This book contained a complete exposition of the Rosicrucianphilosophy, and afforded materials to the Abbé de Villars for hisinteresting _Count de Gabalis_, which excited so much attention at theclose of the seventeenth century. 

Borri lingered in the prison of St. Angelo till 1695, when he died, in hiseightieth year. Besides _The Key of the Cabinet_, written originally inCopenhagen, in 1666, for the edification of King Frederick III. , hepublished a work upon alchymy and the secret sciences, under the title of_The Mission of Romulus to the Romans_. 

INFERIOR ALCHYMISTS OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 

Besides the pretenders to the philosopher's stone whose lives have beenalready narrated, this and the preceding century produced a great numberof writers, who inundated literature with their books upon the subject. Infact, most of the learned men of that age had some faith in it. VanHelmont, Borrichius, Kircher, Boerhaave, and a score of others, though notprofessed alchymists, were fond of the science, and countenanced itsprofessors. Helvetius, the grandfather of the celebrated philosopher ofthe same name, asserts that he saw an inferior metal turned into gold by astranger, at the Hague, in 1666. He says, that, sitting one day in hisstudy, a man, who was dressed as a respectable burgher of North Holland, and very modest and simple in his appearance, called upon him, with theintention of dispelling his doubts relative to the philosopher's stone. Heasked Helvetius if he thought he should know that rare gem if he saw it. To which Helvetius replied, that he certainly should not. The burgherimmediately drew from his pocket a small ivory box, containing threepieces of metal, of the colour of brimstone, and extremely heavy; andassured Helvetius, that of them he could make as much as twenty tons ofgold. Helvetius informs us, that he examined them very attentively; andseeing that they were very brittle, he took the opportunity to scrape offa small portion with his thumb-nail. He then returned them to thestranger, with an entreaty that he would perform the process oftransmutation before him. The stranger replied, that he was not allowed todo so, and went away. After his departure, Helvetius procured a crucibleand a portion of lead, into which, when in a state of fusion, he threw thestolen grain from the philosopher's stone. He was disappointed to findthat the grain evaporated altogether, leaving the lead in its originalstate. 

Some weeks afterwards, when he had almost forgotten the subject, hereceived another visit from the stranger. He again entreated him toexplain the processes by which he pretended to transmute lead. Thestranger at last consented, and informed him, that one grain wassufficient; but that it was necessary to envelope it in a ball of waxbefore throwing it on the molten metal; otherwise its extreme volatilitywould cause it to go off in vapour. They tried the experiment, andsucceeded to their heart's content. Helvetius repeated the experimentalone, and converted six ounces of lead into very pure gold. 

The fame of this event spread all over the Hague, and all the notablepersons of the town flocked to the study of Helvetius to convincethemselves of the fact. Helvetius performed the experiment again, in thepresence of the Prince of Orange, and several times afterwards, until heexhausted the whole of the powder he had received from the stranger, fromwhom it is necessary to state, he never received another visit; nor did heever discover his name or condition. In the following year, Helvetiuspublished his _Golden Calf_, [46] in which he detailed the abovecircumstances. 

 [46] "Vitulus Aureus quem Mundus adorat et orat, in quo tractatur de naturæ miraculo transmutandi metalla. " _Hagæ_, 1667. 

About the same time, the celebrated Father Kircher published his_Subterranean World_, in which he called the alchymists a congregation ofknaves and impostors, and their science a delusion. He admitted that hehad himself been a diligent labourer in the field, and had only come tothis conclusion after mature consideration and repeated fruitlessexperiments. All the alchymists were in arms immediately, to refute thisformidable antagonist. One Solomon de Blauenstein was the first to grapplewith him, and attempted to convict him of wilful misrepresentation, byrecalling to his memory the transmutations by Sendivogius, before theEmperor Frederick III. And the Elector of Mayence, all performed within arecent period. Zwelfer and Glauber also entered into the dispute, andattributed the enmity of Father Kircher to spite and jealousy againstadepts who had been more successful than himself. 

It was also pretended that Gustavus Adolphus transmuted a quantity ofquicksilver into pure gold. The learned Borrichius relates, that he sawcoins which had been struck of this gold; and Lenglet du Fresnoy deposesto the same circumstance. In the _Travels of Monconis_ the story is toldin the following manner: "A merchant of Lubeck, who carried on but littletrade, but who knew how to change lead into very good gold, gave the Kingof Sweden a lingot which he had made, weighing at least one hundredpounds. The king immediately caused it to be coined into ducats; andbecause he knew positively that its origin was such as had been stated tohim, he had his own arms graven upon the one side, and emblematicalfigures of Mercury and Venus on the other. I (continued Monconis) have oneof these ducats in my possession; and was credibly informed that, afterthe death of the Lubeck merchant, who had never appeared very rich, a sumof no less than one million seven hundred thousand crowns was found in hiscoffers. "[47]

 [47] _Voyages de Monconis_, tome ii. P. 379. 

Such stories as these, confidently related by men high in station, tendedto keep up the infatuation of the alchymists in every country of Europe. It is astonishing to see the number of works which were written upon thesubject during the seventeenth century alone, and the number of clever menwho sacrificed themselves to the delusion. Gabriel de Castaigne, a monk ofthe order of St. Francis, attracted so much notice in the reign of LouisXIII. , that that monarch secured him in his household, and made him hisGrand Almoner. He pretended to find the elixir of life, and Louis expectedby his means to have enjoyed the crown for a century. Van Helmont alsopretended to have once performed with success the process of transmutingquicksilver, and was in consequence invited by the Emperor Rudolph II. Tofix his residence at the court of Vienna. Glauber, the inventor of thesalts which still bear his name, and who practised as a physician atAmsterdam about the middle of the seventeenth century, established apublic school in that city for the study of alchymy, and gave lectureshimself upon the science. John Joachim Becher of Spire acquired greatreputation at the same period, and was convinced that much gold might bemade out of flint-stones by a peculiar process, and the aid of that grandand incomprehensible substance the philosopher's stone. He made aproposition to the Emperor Leopold of Austria to aid him in theseexperiments; but the hope of success was too remote, and the presentexpense too great, to tempt that monarch, and he therefore gave Bechermuch of his praise, but none of his money. Becher afterwards tried theStates-General of Holland with no better success. 

With regard to the innumerable tricks by which impostors persuaded theworld that they had succeeded in making gold, and of which so many storieswere current about this period, a very satisfactory report was read by M. Geoffroy the elder, at the sitting of the Royal Academy of Sciences atParis, on the 15th of April, 1722. As it relates principally to thealchymic cheats of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the followingabridgment of it may not be out of place in this portion of our history. The instances of successful transmutation were so numerous, and apparentlyso well authenticated, that nothing short of so able an exposure as thatof M. Geoffroy could disabuse the public mind. The trick to which theyoftenest had recourse was to use a double-bottomed crucible, the undersurface being of iron or copper, and the upper one of wax, painted toresemble the same metal. Between the two they placed as much gold orsilver dust as was necessary for their purpose. They then put in theirlead, quicksilver, or other ingredients, and placed their pot upon thefire. Of course, when the experiment was concluded, they never failed tofind a lump of gold at the bottom. The same result was produced in manyother ways. Some of them used a hollow wand, filled with gold or silverdust, and stopped at the ends with wax or butter. With this they stirredthe boiling metal in their crucibles, taking care to accompany theoperation with many ceremonies, to divert attention from the real purposeof the manoeuvre. They also drilled holes in lumps of lead, into whichthey poured molten gold, and carefully closed the aperture with theoriginal metal. Sometimes they washed a piece of gold with quicksilver. When in this state, they found no difficulty in palming it off upon theuninitiated as an inferior metal, and very easily transmuted it into finesonorous gold again with the aid of a little aquafortis. 

Others imposed by means of nails, half iron and half gold or silver. Theypretended that they really transmuted the precious half from iron, bydipping it in a strong alcohol. M. Geoffroy produced several of thesenails to the Academy of Sciences, and shewed how nicely the two parts weresoldered together. The golden or silver half was painted black to resembleiron, and the colour immediately disappeared when the nail was dipped intoaquafortis. A nail of this description was, for a long time, in thecabinet of the Grand Duke of Tuscany. Such also, said M. Geoffroy, was theknife presented by a monk to Queen Elizabeth of England; the blade ofwhich was half gold and half steel. Nothing at one time was more commonthan to see coins, half gold and half silver, which had been operated uponby alchymists, for the same purposes of trickery. In fact, says M. Geoffroy, in concluding his long report, there is every reason to believethat all the famous histories which have been handed down to us about thetransmutation of metals into gold or silver, by means of the powder ofprojection or philosophical elixirs, are founded upon some successfuldeception of the kind above narrated. These pretended philosophersinvariably disappeared after the first or second experiment, or theirpowders or elixirs have failed to produce their effect, either becauseattention being excited they have found no opportunity to renew the trickwithout being discovered, or because they have not had sufficient golddust for more than one trial. 

The disinterestedness of these would-be philosophers looked, at firstsight, extremely imposing. Instances were not rare in which theygenerously abandoned all the profits of their transmutations--even thehonour of the discovery. But this apparent disinterestedness was one ofthe most cunning of their manoeuvres. It served to keep up the popularexpectation; it seemed to shew the possibility of discovering thephilosopher's stone, and provided the means of future advantages, whichthey were never slow to lay hold of--such as entrances into royalhouseholds, maintenance at the public expense, and gifts from ambitiouspotentates, too greedy after the gold they so easily promised. 

It now only remains to trace the progress of the delusion from thecommencement of the eighteenth century until the present day. It will beseen that, until a very recent period, there were but slight signs of areturn to reason. 

JEAN DELISLE. 

In the year 1705, there was much talk in France of a blacksmith, namedDelisle, who had discovered the philosopher's stone, and who went aboutthe country turning lead into gold. He was a native of Provence, fromwhich place his fame soon spread to the capital. His early life isinvolved in obscurity; but Lenglet du Fresnoy has industriously collectedsome particulars of his later career, which possess considerable interest. He was a man without any education, and had been servant in his youth toan alchymist, from whom he learned many of the tricks of the fraternity. The name of his master has never been discovered; but it is pretended thathe rendered himself in some manner obnoxious to the government of LouisXIV. , and was obliged, in consequence, to take refuge in Switzerland. Delisle accompanied him as far as Savoy, and there, it is said, set uponhim in a solitary mountain-pass, and murdered and robbed him. He thendisguised himself as a pilgrim, and returned to France. At a lonely inn, by the road-side, where he stopped for the night, he became acquaintedwith a woman, named Aluys; and so sudden a passion was enkindled betwixtthem, that she consented to leave all, follow him, and share his good orevil fortune wherever he went. They lived together for five or six yearsin Provence, without exciting any attention, apparently possessed of adecent independence. At last, in 1706, it was given out that he was thepossessor of the philosopher's stone; and people from far and near cameflocking to his residence, at the Château de la Palu, at Sylanez, nearBarjaumont, to witness the wealth he could make out of pumps andfire-shovels. The following account of his operations is given in a letteraddressed by M. De Cerisy, the Prior of Châteauneuf, in the Diocese ofRiez, in Provence, to the Vicar of St. Jacques du Hautpas, at Paris, anddated the 18th of November, 1706:

"I have something to relate to you, my dear cousin, which will beinteresting to you and your friends. The philosopher's stone, which somany persons have looked upon as a chimera, is at last found. It is a mannamed Delisle, of the parish of Sylanez, and residing within a quarter ofa league of me, that has discovered this great secret. He turns lead intogold, and iron into silver, by merely heating these metals red hot, andpouring upon them in that state some oil and powder he is possessed of; sothat it would not be impossible for any man to make a million a day, if hehad sufficient of this wondrous mixture. Some of the pale gold which hehad made in this manner, he sent to the jewellers of Lyons, to have theiropinion on its quality. He also sold twenty pounds weight of it to amerchant of Digne, named Taxis. All the jewellers say they never saw suchfine gold in their lives. He makes nails, part gold, part iron, and partsilver. He promised to give me one of them, in a long conversation which Ihad with him the other day, by order of the Bishop of Senés, who saw hisoperations with his own eyes, and detailed all the circumstances to me. 

"The Baron and Baroness de Rheinwald shewed me a lingot of gold made outof pewter before their eyes by M. Delisle. My brother-in-law Sauveur, whohas wasted fifty years of his life in this great study, brought me theother day a nail which he had seen changed into gold by Delisle, and fullyconvinced me that all his previous experiments were founded on anerroneous principle. This excellent workman received, a short time ago, avery kind letter from the superintendent of the royal household, which Iread. He offered to use all his influence with the ministers to preventany attempts upon his liberty, which has twice been attacked by the agentsof government. It is believed that the oil he makes use of, is gold orsilver reduced to that state. He leaves it for a long time exposed to therays of the sun. He told me that it generally took him six months to makeall his preparations. I told him that, apparently, the king wanted to seehim. He replied that he could not exercise his art in every place, as acertain climate and temperature were absolutely necessary to his success. The truth is, that this man appears to have no ambition. He only keeps twohorses and two men-servants. Besides, he loves his liberty, has nopoliteness, and speaks very bad French; but his judgment seems to besolid. He was formerly no more than a blacksmith, but excelled in thattrade without having been taught it. All the great lords and seigneursfrom far and near come to visit him, and pay such court to him, that itseems more like idolatry than any thing else. Happy would France be ifthis man would discover his secret to the king, to whom the superintendenthas already sent some lingots! But the happiness is too great to be hopedfor; for I fear that the workman and his secret will expire together. There is no doubt that this discovery will make a great noise in thekingdom, unless the character of the man, which I have just depicted toyou, prevent it. At all events, posterity will hear of him. "

In another letter to the same person, dated the 27th of January 1707, M. De Cerisy says, "My dear cousin, I spoke to you in my last letter of thefamous alchymist of Provence, M. Delisle. A good deal of that was onlyhearsay, but now I am enabled to speak from my own experience. I have inmy possession a nail, half iron and half silver, which I made myself. Thatgreat and admirable workman also bestowed a still greater privilege uponme--he allowed me turn a piece of lead which I had brought with me intopure gold, by means of his wonderful oil and powder. All the country havetheir eyes upon this gentleman; some deny loudly, others are incredulous;but those who have seen acknowledge the truth. I have read the passportthat has been sent to him from court, with orders that he should presenthimself at Paris early in the spring. He told me that he would gowillingly, and that it was himself who fixed the spring for his departure;as he wanted to collect his materials, in order that, immediately on hisintroduction to the king, he might make an experiment worthy of hismajesty, by converting a large quantity of lead into the finest gold. Isincerely hope that he will not allow his secret to die with him, but thathe will communicate it to the king. As I had the honour to dine with himon Thursday last, the 20th of this month, being seated at his side, I toldhim in a whisper that he could, if he liked, humble all the enemies ofFrance. He did not deny it, but began to smile. In fact, this man is themiracle of art. Sometimes he employs the oil and powder mixed, sometimesthe powder only; but in so small a quantity that, when the lingot which Imade was rubbed all over with it, it did not shew at all. "

This soft-headed priest was by no means the only person in theneighbourhood who lost his wits in hopes of the boundless wealth held outby this clever impostor. Another priest, named De Lions, a chanter in thecathedral of Grenoble, writing on the 30th January 1707, says: "M. Mesnard, the curate of Montier, has written to me, stating that there is aman, about thirty-five years of age, named Delisle, who turns lead andiron into gold and silver; and that this transmutation is so veritable andso true, that the goldsmiths affirm that his gold and silver are thepurest and finest they ever saw. For five years this man was looked uponas a madman or a cheat; but the public mind is now disabused with respectto him. He now resides with M. De la Palu, at the château of the samename. M. De la Palu is not very easy in his circumstances, and wants moneyto portion his daughters, who have remained single till middle age, no manbeing willing to take them without a dowry. M. Delisle has promised tomake them the richest girls in the province before he goes to court, having been sent for by the king. He has asked for a little time beforehis departure, in order that he may collect powder enough to make severalquintals of gold before the eyes of his majesty, to whom he intends topresent them. The principal matter of his wonderful powder is composed ofsimples, principally the herbs _Lunaria major_ and _minor_. There is agood deal of the first planted by him in the gardens of La Palu; and hegets the other from the mountains that stretch about two leagues fromMontier. What I tell you now is not a mere story invented for yourdiversion: M. Mesnard can bring forward many witnesses to its truth; amongothers, the Bishop of Senés, who saw these surprising operationsperformed; and M. De Cerisy, whom you know well. Delisle transmutes hismetals in public. He rubs the lead or iron with his powder, and puts itover burning charcoal. In a short time it changes colour; the lead becomesyellow, and is found to be converted into excellent gold; the iron becomeswhite, and is found to be pure silver. Delisle is altogether an illiterateperson. M. De St. Auban endeavoured to teach him to read and write, but heprofited very little by his lessons. He is unpolite, fantastic, and adreamer, and acts by fits and starts. "

Delisle, it would appear, was afraid of venturing to Paris. He knew thathis sleight of hand would be too narrowly watched in the royal presence;and upon some pretence or other he delayed the journey for more than twoyears. Desmarets, the Minister of Finance to Louis XIV. , thinking the"philosopher" dreaded foul play, twice sent him a safe conduct under theking's seal; but Delisle still refused. Upon this, Desmarets wrote to theBishop of Senés for his real opinion as to these famous transmutations. The following was the answer of that prelate:

 "Copy of a report addressed to M. Desmarets, Comptroller-General of the Finances to His Majesty Louis XIV. , by the Bishop of Senés, dated March 1709. 

"SIR, --A twelvemonth ago, or a little more, I expressed to you my joy athearing of your elevation to the ministry; I have now the honour to writeyou my opinion of the Sieur Delisle, who has been working at thetransmutation of metals in my diocese. I have, during the last two years, spoken of him several times to the Count de Pontchartrain, because heasked me; but I have not written to you, sir, or to M. De Chamillart, because you neither of you requested my opinion upon the subject. Now, however, that you have given me to understand that you wish to know mysentiments on the matter, I will unfold myself to you in all sincerity, for the interests of the king and the glory of your ministry. 

"There are two things about the Sieur Delisle which, in my opinion, shouldbe examined without prejudice: the one relates to his secret; the other, to his person; that is to say, whether his transmutations are real, andwhether his conduct has been regular. As regards the secret of thephilosopher's stone, I deemed it impossible, for a long time; and for morethan three years I was more mistrustful of the pretensions of this SieurDelisle than of any other person. During this period I afforded him nocountenance; I even aided a person, who was highly recommended to me by aninfluential family of this province, to prosecute Delisle for some offenceor other which it was alleged he had committed. But this person, in hisanger against him, having told me that he had himself been several timesthe bearer of gold and silver to the goldsmiths of Nice, Aix, and Avignon, which had been transmuted by Delisle from lead and iron, I began to wavera little in my opinions respecting him. I afterwards met Delisle at thehouse of one of my friends. To please me, the family asked Delisle tooperate before me, to which he immediately consented. I offered him someiron nails, which he changed into silver in the chimney-place before sixor seven credible witnesses. I took the nails thus transmuted, and sentthem by my almoner to Imbert, the jeweller of Aix, who, having subjectedthem to the necessary trial, returned them to me, saying they were verygood silver. Still, however, I was not quite satisfied. M. DePontchartrain having hinted to me, two years previously, that I should doa thing agreeable to his majesty if I examined into this business ofDelisle, I resolved to do so now. I therefore summoned the alchymist tocome to me at Castellane. He came; and I had him escorted by eight or tenvigilant men, to whom I had given notice to watch his hands strictly. Before all of us he changed two pieces of lead into gold and silver. Isent them both to M. De Pontchartrain; and he afterwards informed me by aletter, now lying before me, that he had shewn them to the mostexperienced goldsmiths of Paris, who unanimously pronounced them to begold and silver of the very purest quality, and without alloy. My formerbad opinion of Delisle was now indeed shaken. It was much more so when heperformed transmutation five or six times before me at Senés, and made meperform it myself before him without his putting his hand to any thing. You have seen, sir, the letter of my nephew, the Père Berard, of theOratoire at Paris, on the experiment that he performed at Castellane, andthe truth of which I hereby attest. Another nephew of mine, the SieurBourget, who was here three weeks ago, performed the same experiment in mypresence, and will detail all the circumstances to you personally atParis. A hundred persons in my diocese have been witnesses of thesethings. I confess to you, sir, that, after the testimony of so manyspectators and so many goldsmiths, and after the repeatedly successfulexperiments that I saw performed, all my prejudices vanished. My reasonwas convinced by my eyes; and the phantoms of impossibility which I hadconjured up were dissipated by the work of my own hands. 

"It now only remains for me to speak to you on the subject of his personand conduct. Three suspicions have been excited against him: the first, that he was implicated in some criminal proceeding at Cisteron, and thathe falsified the coin of the realm; the second, that the king sent him twosafe-conducts without effect; and the third, that he still delays going tocourt to operate before the king. You may see, sir, that I do not hide oravoid any thing. As regards the business at Cisteron, the Sieur Delislehas repeatedly assured me that there was nothing against him which couldreasonably draw him within the pale of justice, and that he had nevercarried on any calling injurious to the king's service. It was true that, six or seven years ago, he had been to Cisteron to gather herbs necessaryfor his powder, and that he had lodged at the house of one Pelouse, whomhe thought an honest man. Pelouse was accused of clipping Louis-d'ors; andas he had lodged with him, he was suspected of being his accomplice. Thismere suspicion, without any proof whatever, had caused him to be condemnedfor contumacy; a common case enough with judges, who always proceed withmuch rigour against those who are absent. During my own sojourn at Aix, itwas well known that a man, named André Aluys, had spread about reportsinjurious to the character of Delisle, because he hoped thereby to avoidpaying him a sum of forty _Louis_ that he owed him. But permit me, sir, togo further, and to add that, even if there were well-founded suspicionsagainst Delisle, we should look with some little indulgence on the faultsof a man who possesses a secret so useful to the state. As regards the twosafe-conducts sent him by the king, I think I can answer certainly that itwas through no fault of his that he paid so little attention to them. Hisyear, strictly speaking, consists only of the four summer months; and whenby any means he is prevented from making the proper use of them, he losesa whole year. Thus the first safe-conduct became useless by the irruptionof the Duke of Savoy in 1707 and the second had hardly been obtained, atthe end of June 1708, when the said Delisle was insulted by a party ofarmed men, pretending to act under the authority of the Count de Grignan, to whom he wrote several letters of complaint, without receiving anyanswer, or promise that his safety would be attended to. What I have nowtold you, sir, removes the third objection, and is the reason why, at thepresent time, he cannot go to Paris to the king, in fulfilment of hispromises made two years ago. Two, or even three, summers have been lost tohim, owing to the continual inquietude he has laboured under. He has, inconsequence, been unable to work, and has not collected a sufficientquantity of his oil and powder, or brought what he has got to thenecessary degree of perfection. For this reason also he could not give theSieur de Bourget the portion he promised him for your inspection. If theother day he changed some lead into gold with a few grains of his powder, they were assuredly all he had; for he told me that such was the fact longbefore he knew my nephew was coming. Even if he had preserved this smallquantity to operate before the king, I am sure that, on second thoughts, he would never have adventured with so little; because the slightestobstacles in the metals (their being too hard or too soft, which is onlydiscovered in operating, ) would have caused him to be looked upon as animpostor, if, in case his first powder had proved ineffectual, he had notbeen possessed of more to renew the experiment and surmount thedifficulty. 

"Permit me, sir, in conclusion, to repeat, that such an artist as thisshould not be driven to the last extremity, nor forced to seek an asylumoffered to him in other countries, but which he has despised, as much fromhis own inclinations as from the advice I have given him. You risk nothingin giving him a little time, and in hurrying him you may lose a greatdeal. The genuineness of his gold can no longer be doubted, after thetestimony of so many jewellers of Aix, Lyons, and Paris in its favour. Asit is not his fault that the previous safe-conducts sent to him have beenof no service, it will be necessary to send him another; for the successof which I will be answerable, if you will confide the matter to me, andtrust to my zeal for the service of his majesty, to whom I pray you tocommunicate this letter, that I may be spared the just reproaches he mightone day heap upon me if he remained ignorant of the facts I have nowwritten to you. Assure him, if you please, that, if you send me such asafe-conduct, I will oblige the Sieur Delisle to depose with me suchprecious pledges of his fidelity as shall enable me to be responsiblemyself to the king. These are my sentiments, and I submit them to yoursuperior knowledge; and have the honour to remain, with much respect, &c. 

 "+ JOHN BISHOP OF SENES. 

"To M. Desmarets, Minister of State, and Comptroller-General of theFinances, at Paris. "

That Delisle was no ordinary impostor, but a man of consummate cunning andaddress, is very evident from this letter. The bishop was fairly taken inby his clever legerdemain, and when once his first distrust was conquered, appeared as anxious to deceive himself as even Delisle could have wished. His faith was so abundant that he made the case of his _protégé_ his own, and would not suffer the breath of suspicion to be directed against him. Both Louis and his minister appear to have been dazzled by the brillianthopes he had excited, and a third pass, or safe-conduct, was immediatelysent to the alchymist, with a command from the king that he shouldforthwith present himself at Versailles, and make public trial of his oiland powder. But this did not suit the plans of Delisle. In the provinceshe was regarded as a man of no small importance; the servile flattery thatawaited him wherever he went was so grateful to his mind that he could notwillingly relinquish it, and run upon certain detection at the court ofthe monarch. Upon one pretext or another he delayed his journey, notwithstanding the earnest solicitations of his good friend the bishop. The latter had given his word to the minister, and pledged his honour thathe would induce Delisle to go, and he began to be alarmed when he found hecould not subdue the obstinacy of that individual. For more than two yearshe continued to remonstrate with him, and was always met by some excuse, that there was not sufficient powder, or that it had not been long enoughexposed to the rays of the sun. At last his patience was exhausted; andfearful that he might suffer in the royal estimation by longer delay, hewrote to the king for a _lettre de cachet_, in virtue of which thealchymist was seized at the castle of La Palu, in the month of June 1711, and carried off to be imprisoned in the Bastille. 

The gendarmes were aware that their prisoner was supposed to be the luckypossessor of the philosopher's stone, and on the road they conspired torob and murder him. One of them pretended to be touched with pity for themisfortunes of the philosopher, and offered to give him an opportunity ofescape whenever he could divert the attention of his companions. Delislewas profuse in his thanks, little dreaming of the snare that was laid forhim. His treacherous friend gave notice of the success of the stratagem sofar; and it was agreed that Delisle should be allowed to struggle with andoverthrow one of them while the rest were at some distance. They were thento pursue him and shoot him through the heart; and after robbing thecorpse of the philosopher's stone, convey it to Paris on a cart, and tellM. Desmarets that the prisoner had attempted to escape, and would havesucceeded if they had not fired after him and shot him through the body. At a convenient place the scheme was executed. On a given signal from thefriendly gendarme, Delisle fled, while another gendarme took aim and shothim through the thigh. Some peasants arriving at the instant, they wereprevented from killing him as they intended, and he was transported toParis, maimed and bleeding. He was thrown into a dungeon in the Bastille, and obstinately tore away the bandages which the surgeons applied to hiswound. He never afterwards rose from his bed. 

The Bishop of Senés visited him in prison, and promised him his liberty ifhe would transmute a certain quantity of lead into gold before the king. The unhappy man had no longer the means of carrying on the deception; hehad no gold, and no double-bottomed crucible or hollow wand to conceal itin, even if he had. He would not, however, confess that he was animpostor; but merely said he did not know how to make the powder ofprojection, but had received a quantity from an Italian philosopher, andhad used it all in his various transmutations in Provence. He lingered forseven or eight months in the Bastille, and died from the effects of hiswound, in the forty-first year of his age. 

ALBERT ALUYS. 

This pretender to the philosopher's stone was the son, by a formerhusband, of the woman Aluys, with whom Delisle became acquainted at thecommencement of his career, in the cabaret by the road-side, and whom heafterwards married. Delisle performed the part of a father towards him, and thought he could shew no stronger proof of his regard, than by givinghim the necessary instructions to carry on the deception which had raisedhimself to such a pitch of greatness. The young Aluys was an apt scholar, and soon mastered all the jargon of the alchymists. He discoursedlearnedly upon projections, cimentations, sublimations, the elixir oflife, and the universal alkahest; and on the death of Delisle gave outthat the secret of that great adept had been communicated to him, and tohim only. His mother aided in the fraud, with the hope they might bothfasten themselves, in the true alchymical fashion, upon some rich dupe, who would entertain them magnificently while the operation was inprogress. The fate of Delisle was no inducement for them to stop inFrance. The Provençals, it is true, entertained as high an opinion as everof his skill, and were well inclined to believe the tales of the youngadept on whom his mantle had fallen; but the dungeons of the Bastille wereyawning for their prey, and Aluys and his mother decamped with allconvenient expedition. They travelled about the Continent for severalyears, sponging upon credulous rich men, and now and then performingsuccessful transmutations by the aid of double-bottomed crucibles and thelike. In the year 1726, Aluys, without his mother, who appears to havedied in the interval, was at Vienna, where he introduced himself to theDuke de Richelieu, at that time ambassador from the court of France. Hecompletely deceived this nobleman; he turned lead into gold (apparently)on several occasions, and even made the ambassador himself turn an ironnail into a silver one. The duke afterwards boasted to Lenglet du Fresnoyof his achievements as an alchymist, and regretted that he had not beenable to discover the secret of the precious powder by which he performedthem. 

Aluys soon found that, although he might make a dupe of the Duke deRichelieu, he could not get any money from him. On the contrary, the dukeexpected all his pokers and fire-shovels to be made silver, and all hispewter utensils gold; and thought the honour of his acquaintance wasreward sufficient for a _roturier_, who could not want wealth since hepossessed so invaluable a secret. Aluys, seeing that so much was expectedof him, bade adieu to his excellency, and proceeded to Bohemia accompaniedby a pupil, and by a young girl who had fallen in love with him in Vienna. Some noblemen in Bohemia received him kindly, and entertained him at theirhouses for months at a time. It was his usual practice to pretend that hepossessed only a few grains of his powder, with which he would operate inany house where he intended to fix his quarters for the season. He wouldmake the proprietor the present of a piece of gold thus transmuted, andpromise him millions, if he could only be provided with leisure to gatherhis _lunaria major_ and _minor_ on their mountain-tops, and board, lodging, and loose cash for himself, his wife, and his pupil, in theinterval. 

He exhausted in this manner the patience of some dozen of people, when, thinking that there was less danger for him in France under the young kingLouis XV. Than under his old and morose predecessor, he returned toProvence. On his arrival at Aix, he presented himself before M. Le Bret, the president of the province, a gentleman who was much attached to thepursuits of alchymy, and had great hopes of being himself able to find thephilosopher's stone. M. Le Bret, contrary to his expectation, received himvery coolly, in consequence of some rumours that were spread abroadrespecting him; and told him to call upon him on the morrow. Aluys did notlike the tone of the voice, or the expression of the eye of the learnedpresident, as that functionary looked down upon him. Suspecting that allwas not right, he left Aix secretly the same evening, and proceeded toMarseilles. But the police were on the watch for him; and he had not beenthere four-and-twenty hours, before he was arrested on a charge ofcoining, and thrown into prison. 

As the proofs against him were too convincing to leave him much hope of anacquittal, he planned an escape from durance. It so happened that thegaoler had a pretty daughter, and Aluys soon discovered that she wastender-hearted. He endeavoured to gain her in his favour, and succeeded. The damsel, unaware that he was a married man, conceived and encouraged apassion for him, and generously provided him with the means of escape. After he had been nearly a year in prison he succeeded in getting free, leaving the poor girl behind to learn that he was already married, and tolament in solitude that she had given her heart to an ungrateful vagabond. 

When he left Marseilles, he had not a shoe to his foot or a decent garmentto his back, but was provided with some money and clothes by his wife in aneighbouring town. They then found their way to Brussels, and by dint ofexcessive impudence, brought themselves into notice. He took a house, fitted up a splendid laboratory, and gave out that he knew the secret oftransmutation. In vain did M. Percel, the brother-in-law of Lenglet duFresnoy, who resided in that city, expose his pretensions, and hold him upto contempt as an ignorant impostor: the world believed him not. They tookthe alchymist at his word, and besieged his doors to see and wonder at theclever legerdemain by which he turned iron nails into gold and silver. Arich _greffier_ paid him a large sum of money that he might be instructedin the art, and Aluys gave him several lessons on the most commonprinciples of chemistry. The greffier studied hard for a twelvemonth, andthen discovered that his master was a quack. He demanded his money backagain; but Aluys was not inclined to give it him, and the affair wasbrought before the civil tribunal of the province. In the mean time, however, the greffier died suddenly; poisoned, according to the popularrumour, by his debtor, to avoid repayment. So great an outcry arose in thecity, that Aluys, who may have been innocent of the crime, wasnevertheless afraid to remain and brave it. He withdrew secretly in thenight, and retired to Paris. Here all trace of him is lost. He was neverheard of again; but Lenglet du Fresnoy conjectures that he ended his daysin some obscure dungeon, into which he was cast for coining or othermalpractices. 

THE COUNT DE ST. GERMAIN. 

This adventurer was of a higher grade than the last, and played adistinguished part at the court of Louis XV. He pretended to havediscovered the elixir of life, by means of which he could make any onelive for centuries; and allowed it to believed that his own age wasupwards of two thousand years. He entertained many of the opinions of theRosicrucians; boasted of his intercourse with sylphs and salamanders; andof his power of drawing diamonds from the earth, and pearls from the sea, by the force of his incantations. He did not lay claim to the merit ofhaving discovered the philosopher's stone; but devoted so much of his timeto the operations of alchymy, that it was very generally believed, that ifsuch a thing as the philosopher's stone had ever existed, or could becalled into existence, he was the man to succeed in finding it. 

It has never yet been discovered what was his real name, or in whatcountry he was born. Some believed, from the Jewish cast of his handsomecountenance, that he was the "wandering Jew;" others asserted that he wasthe issue of an Arabian princess, and that his father was a salamander;while others, more reasonable, affirmed him to be the son of a PortugueseJew established at Bourdeaux. He first carried on his imposture inGermany, where he made considerable sums by selling an elixir to arrestthe progress of old age. The Maréchal de Belle-Isle purchased a dose ofit; and was so captivated with the wit, learning, and good manners of thecharlatan, and so convinced of the justice of his most preposterouspretensions, that he induced him to fix his residence in Paris. Under themarshal's patronage, he first appeared in the gay circles of that capital. Every one was delighted with the mysterious stranger; who, at this periodof his life, appears to have been about seventy years of age, but did notlook more than forty-five. His easy assurance imposed upon most people. His reading was extensive, and his memory extraordinarily tenacious of theslightest circumstances. His pretension to have lived for so manycenturies naturally exposed him to some puzzling questions, as to theappearance, life, and conversation of the great men of former days; but hewas never at a loss for an answer. Many who questioned him for the purposeof scoffing at him, refrained in perplexity, quite bewildered by hispresence of mind, his ready replies, and his astonishing accuracy on everypoint mentioned in history. To increase the mystery by which he wassurrounded, he permitted no person to know how he lived. He dressed in astyle of the greatest magnificence; sported valuable diamonds in his hat, on his fingers, and in his shoe-buckles; and sometimes made the mostcostly presents to the ladies of the court. It was suspected by many thathe was a spy, in the pay of the English ministry; but there never was atittle of evidence to support the charge. The king looked upon him withmarked favour, was often closeted with him for hours together, and wouldnot suffer any body to speak disparagingly of him. Voltaire constantlyturned him into ridicule; and, in one of his letters to the King ofPrussia, mentions him as "un comte pour rire;" and states that hepretended to have dined with the holy fathers at the Council of Trent!

In the _Memoirs of Madame du Hausset_, chamber-woman to Madame duPompadour, there are some amusing anecdotes of this personage. Very soonafter his arrival in Paris, he had the _entrée_ of her dressing-room; afavour only granted to the most powerful lords at the court of her royallover. Madame was fond of conversing with him; and, in her presence, hethought fit to lower his pretensions very considerably; but he oftenallowed her to believe that he had lived two or three hundred years atleast. "One day, " says Madame du Hausset, "madame said to him, in mypresence, 'What was the personal appearance of Francis I. ? He was a king Ishould have liked. ' 'He was, indeed, very captivating, ' replied St. Germain; and he proceeded to describe his face and person, as that of aman whom he had accurately observed. 'It is a pity he was too ardent. Icould have given him some good advice, which would have saved him from allhis misfortunes: but he would not have followed it; for it seems as if afatality attended princes, forcing them to shut their ears to the wisestcounsel. ' 'Was his court very brilliant?' inquired Madame du Pompadour. 'Very, ' replied the count; 'but those of his grandsons surpassed it. Inthe time of Mary Stuart and Margaret of Valois, it was a land ofenchantment--a temple sacred to pleasures of every kind. ' Madame said, laughing, 'You seem to have seen all this. ' 'I have an excellent memory, 'said he, 'and have read the history of France with great care. I sometimesamuse myself, not by making, but by letting, it be believed that I livedin old times. '

"'But you do not tell us your age, ' said Madame du Pompadour to him onanother occasion; 'and yet you pretend you are very old. The Countess deGergy, who was, I believe, ambassadress at Vienna some fifty years ago, says she saw you there, exactly the same as you now appear. '

"'It is true, madame, ' replied St. Germain; 'I knew Madame de Gergy manyyears ago. '

"'But, according to her account, you must be more than a hundred yearsold?'

"'That is not impossible, ' said he, laughing; 'but it is much morepossible that the good lady is in her dotage. '

"'You gave her an elixir, surprising for the effects it produced; for shesays, that during a length of time, she only appeared to be eighty-four;the age at which she took it. Why don't you give it to the king?'

"'Oh, madam, ' he exclaimed, 'the physicians would have me broken on thewheel, were I to think of drugging his majesty. '"

When the world begins to believe extraordinary things of an individual, there is no telling where its extravagance will stop. People, when oncethey have taken the start, vie with each other who shall believe most. Atthis period all Paris resounded with the wonderful adventures of the Countde St. Germain; and a company of waggish young men tried the followingexperiment upon its credulity: A clever mimic, who, on account of theamusement he afforded, was admitted into good society, was taken by them, dressed as the Count de St. Germain, into several houses in the Rue duMarais. He imitated the count's peculiarities admirably, and found hisauditors open-mouthed to believe any absurdity he chose to utter. Nofiction was too monstrous for their all-devouring credulity. He spoke ofthe Saviour of the world in terms of the greatest familiarity; said he hadsupped with him at the marriage in Canaan of Galilee, where the water wasmiraculously turned into wine. In fact, he said he was an intimate friendof his, and had often warned him to be less romantic and imprudent, or hewould finish his career miserably. This infamous blasphemy, strange tosay, found believers; and ere three days had elapsed, it was currentlyreported that St. Germain was born soon after the deluge, and that hewould never die!

St. Germain himself was too much a man of the world to assert any thing somonstrous; but he took no pains to contradict the story. In all hisconversations with persons of rank and education, he advanced his claimsmodestly, and as if by mere inadvertency, and seldom pretended to alongevity beyond three hundred years, except when he found he was incompany with persons who would believe any thing. He often spoke of HenryVIII. As if he had known him intimately, and of the Emperor Charles V. Asif that monarch had delighted in his society. He would describeconversations which took place with such an apparent truthfulness, and beso exceedingly minute and particular as to the dress and appearance of theindividuals, and even the weather at the time and the furniture of theroom, that three persons out of four were generally inclined to credithim. He had constant applications from rich old women for an elixir tomake them young again, and it would appear gained large sums in thismanner. To those whom he was pleased to call his friends he said his modeof living and plan of diet were far superior to any elixir, and that anybody might attain a patriarchal age by refraining from drinking at meals, and very sparingly at any other time. The Baron de Gleichen followed thissystem, and took great quantities of senna leaves, expecting to live fortwo hundred years. He died, however, at seventy-three. The Duchess deChoiseul was desirous of following the same system, but the duke herhusband in much wrath forbade her to follow any system prescribed by a manwho had so equivocal a reputation as M. De St. Germain. 

Madame du Hausset says she saw St. Germain and conversed with him severaltimes. He appeared to her to be about fifty years of age, was of themiddle size, and had fine expressive features. His dress was alwayssimple, but displayed much taste. He usually wore diamond rings of greatvalue, and his watch and snuff-box were ornamented with a profusion ofprecious stones. One day, at Madame du Pompadour's apartments, where theprincipal courtiers were assembled, St. Germain made his appearance indiamond knee and shoe buckles of so fine a water, that madame said she didnot think the king had any equal to them. He was entreated to pass intothe antechamber and undo them, which he did, and brought them to madamefor closer inspection. M. De Gontant, who was present, said their valuecould not be less than two hundred thousand livres, or upwards of eightthousand pounds sterling. The Baron de Gleichen, in his _Memoirs_, relatesthat the count one day shewed him so many diamonds, that he thought he sawbefore him all the treasures of Aladdin's lamp; and adds, that he had hadgreat experience in precious stones, and was convinced that all thosepossessed by the count were genuine. On another occasion St. Germainshewed Madame du Pompadour a small box, containing topazes, emeralds, anddiamonds worth half a million of livres. He affected to despise all thiswealth, to make the world more easily believe that he could, like theRosicrucians, draw precious stones out of the earth by the magic of hissong. He gave away a great number of these jewels to the ladies of thecourt; and Madame du Pompadour was so charmed with his generosity, thatshe gave him a richly enamelled snuff-box as a token of her regard, on thelid of which was beautifully painted a portrait of Socrates, or some otherGreek sage, to whom she compared him. He was not only lavish to themistresses, but to the maids. Madame du Hausset says: "The count came tosee Madame du Pompadour, who was very ill, and lay on the sofa. He shewedher diamonds enough to furnish a king's treasury. Madame sent for me tosee all those beautiful things. I looked at them with an air of the utmostastonishment; but I made signs to her that I thought them all false. Thecount felt for something in a pocket-book about twice as large as aspectacle-case, and at length drew out two or three little paper packets, which he unfolded, and exhibited a superb ruby. He threw on the table, with a contemptuous air, a little cross of green and white stones. Ilooked at it, and said it was not to be despised. I then put it on, andadmired it greatly. The count begged me to accept it; I refused. He urgedme to take it. At length he pressed so warmly, that madame, seeing itcould not be worth more than a thousand livres, made me a sign to acceptit. I took the cross, much pleased with the count's politeness. "

How the adventurer obtained his wealth remains a secret. He could not havemade it all by the sale of his _elixir vitæ_ in Germany, though no doubtsome portion of it was derived from that source. Voltaire positively sayshe was in the pay of foreign governments; and in his letter to the King ofPrussia, dated the 5th of April 1758, says that he was initiated in allthe secrets of Choiseul, Kaunitz, and Pitt. Of what use he could be to anyof those ministers, and to Choiseul especially, is a mystery of mysteries. 

There appears no doubt that he possessed the secret of removing spots fromdiamonds; and in all probability he gained considerable sums by buying atinferior prices such as had flaws in them, and afterwards disposing ofthem at a profit of cent per cent. Madame du Hausset relates the followinganecdote on this particular: "The king, " says she, "ordered amiddling-sized diamond, which had a flaw in it, to be brought to him. After having it weighed, his majesty said to the count, 'The value of thisdiamond as it is, and with the flaw in it, is six thousand livres; withoutthe flaw, it would be worth at least ten thousand. Will you undertake tomake me a gainer of four thousand livres?' St. Germain examined it veryattentively, and said, 'It is possible; it may be done. I will bring ityou again in a month. ' At the time appointed the count brought back thediamond without a spot, and gave it to the king. It was wrapped in a clothof amianthos, which he took off. The king had it weighed immediately, andfound it very little diminished. His majesty then sent it to his jewellerby M. De Gontant, without telling him of any thing that had passed. Thejeweller gave nine thousand six hundred livres for it. The king, however, sent for the diamond back again, and said he would keep it as a curiosity. He could not overcome his surprise, and said M. De St. Germain must beworth millions, especially if he possessed the secret of making largediamonds out of small ones. The count neither said that he could or couldnot, but positively asserted that he knew how to make pearls grow, andgive them the finest water. The king paid him great attention, and so didMadame du Pompadour. M. Du Quesnoy once said that St. Germain was a quack, but the king reprimanded him. In fact, his majesty appears infatuated byhim, and sometimes talks of him as if his descent were illustrious. "

St. Germain had a most amusing vagabond for a servant, to whom he wouldoften appeal for corroboration, when relating some wonderful event thathappened centuries before. The fellow, who was not without ability, generally corroborated him in a most satisfactory manner. Upon oneoccasion, his master was telling a party of ladies and gentlemen, atdinner, some conversation he had had in Palestine with King Richard I. OfEngland, whom he described as a very particular friend of his. Signs ofastonishment and incredulity were visible on the faces of the company;upon which St. Germain very coolly turned to his servant, who stood behindhis chair, and asked him if he had not spoken truth? "I really cannotsay, " replied the man, without moving a muscle; "you forget, sir, I haveonly been five hundred years in your service!" "Ah! true, " said hismaster; "I remember now; it was a little before your time!"

Occasionally, when with men whom he could not so easily dupe, he gaveutterance to the contempt with which he could scarcely avoid regardingsuch gaping credulity. "These fools of Parisians, " said he to the Baron deGleichen, "believe me to be more than five hundred years old; and, sincethey will have it so, I confirm them in their idea. Not but that I reallyam much older than I appear. "

Many other stories are related of this strange impostor; but enough havebeen quoted to shew his character and pretensions. It appears that heendeavoured to find the philosopher's stone; but never boasted ofpossessing it. The Prince of Hesse Cassel, whom he had known years before, in Germany, wrote urgent letters to him, entreating him to quit Paris, andreside with him. St. Germain at last consented. Nothing further is knownof his career. There were no gossipping memoir-writers at the court ofHesse Cassel to chronicle his sayings and doings. He died at Sleswig, under the roof of his friend the prince, in the year 1784. 

CAGLIOSTRO. 

This famous charlatan, the friend and successor of St. Germain, ran acareer still more extraordinary. He was the arch-quack of his age, thelast of the great pretenders to the philosopher's stone and the water oflife, and during his brief season of prosperity, one of the mostconspicuous characters of Europe. 

His real name was Joseph Balsamo. He was born at Palermo, about the year1743, of humble parentage. He had the misfortune to lose his father duringhis infancy, and his education was left in consequence to some relativesof his mother, the latter being too poor to afford him any instructionbeyond mere reading and writing. He was sent in his fifteenth year to amonastery, to be taught the elements of chemistry and physic; but histemper was so impetuous, his indolence so invincible, and his vicioushabits so deeply rooted, that he made no progress. After remaining someyears, he left it with the character of an uninformed and dissipated youngman, with good natural talents but a bad disposition. When he became ofage, he abandoned himself to a life of riot and debauchery, and enteredhimself, in fact, into that celebrated fraternity, known in France andItaly as the "Knights of Industry, " and in England as the "Swell Mob. " Hewas far from being an idle or unwilling member of the corps. The first wayin which he distinguished himself was by forging orders of admission tothe theatres. He afterwards robbed his uncle, and counterfeited a will. For acts like these, he paid frequent compulsory visits to the prisons ofPalermo. Somehow or other he acquired the character of a sorcerer--of aman who had failed in discovering the secrets of alchymy, and had sold hissoul to the devil for the gold which he was not able to make by means oftransmutation. He took no pains to disabuse the popular mind on thisparticular, but rather encouraged the belief than otherwise. He at lastmade use of it to cheat a silversmith named Marano, of about sixty ouncesof gold, and was in consequence obliged to leave Palermo. He persuadedthis man that he could shew him a treasure hidden in a cave, for whichservice he was to receive the sixty ounces of gold, while the silversmithwas to have all the treasure for the mere trouble of digging it up. Theywent together at midnight to an excavation in the vicinity of Palermo, where Balsamo drew a magic circle, and invoked the devil to shew histreasures. Suddenly there appeared half a dozen fellows, the accomplicesof the swindler, dressed to represent devils, with horns on their heads, claws to their fingers, and vomiting apparently red and blue flame. Theywere armed with pitchforks, with which they belaboured poor Marano till hewas almost dead, and robbed him of his sixty ounces of gold and all thevaluables he carried about his person. They then made off, accompanied byBalsamo, leaving the unlucky silversmith to recover or die at his leisure. Nature chose the former course; and soon after daylight he was restored tohis senses, smarting in body from his blows and in spirit for thedeception of which he had been the victim. His first impulse was todenounce Balsamo to the magistrates of the town; but on further reflectionhe was afraid of the ridicule that a full exposure of all thecircumstances would draw upon him; he therefore took the truly Italianresolution of being revenged on Balsamo, by murdering him at the firstconvenient opportunity. Having given utterance to this threat in thehearing of a friend of Balsamo, it was reported to the latter, whoimmediately packed up his valuables and quitted Europe. 

He chose Medina, in Arabia, for his future dwelling-place, and therebecame acquainted with a Greek named Altotas, a man exceedingly wellversed in all the languages of the East, and an indefatigable student ofalchymy. He possessed an invaluable collection of Arabian manuscripts onhis favourite science, and studied them with such unremitting industrythat he found he had not sufficient time to attend to his crucibles andfurnaces without neglecting his books. He was looking about for anassistant when Balsamo opportunely presented himself, and made sofavourable an impression that he was at once engaged in that capacity. Butthe relation of master and servant did not long subsist between them;Balsamo was too ambitious and too clever to play a secondary part, andwithin fifteen days of their first acquaintance they were bound togetheras friends and partners. Altotas, in the course of a long life devoted toalchymy, had stumbled upon some valuable discoveries in chemistry, one ofwhich was an ingredient for improving the manufacture of flax, andimparting to goods of that material a gloss and softness almost equal tosilk. Balsamo gave him the good advice to leave the philosopher's stonefor the present undiscovered, and make gold out of their flax. The advicewas taken, and they proceeded together to Alexandria to trade, with alarge stock of that article. They stayed forty days in Alexandria, andgained a considerable sum by their venture. They afterwards visited othercities in Egypt, and were equally successful. They also visited Turkey, where they sold drugs and amulets. On their return to Europe, they weredriven by stress of weather into Malta, and were hospitably received byPinto, the Grand Master of the Knights, and a famous alchymist. Theyworked in his laboratory for some months, and tried hard to change apewter platter into a silver one. Balsamo, having less faith than hiscompanions, was sooner wearied; and obtaining from his host many lettersof introduction to Rome and Naples, he left him and Altotas to find thephilosopher's stone and transmute the pewter platter without him. 

He had long since dropped the name of Balsamo on account of the many uglyassociations that clung to it; and during his travels had assumed at leasthalf a score others, with titles annexed to them. He called himselfsometimes the Chevalier de Fischio, the Marquis de Melissa, the Baron deBelmonte, de Pelligrini, d'Anna, de Fenix, de Harat, but most commonly theCount de Cagliostro. Under the latter title he entered Rome, and neverafterwards changed it. In this city he gave himself out as the restorer ofthe Rosicrucian philosophy; said he could transmute all metals into gold;that he could render himself invisible, cure all diseases, and administeran elixir against old age and decay. His letters from the Grand MasterPinto procured him an introduction into the best families. He made moneyrapidly by the sale of his _elixir vitæ_; and, like other quacks, performed many remarkable cures by inspiring his patients with the mostcomplete faith and reliance upon his powers; an advantage which the mostimpudent charlatans often possess over the regular practitioner. 

While thus in a fair way of making his fortune he became acquainted withthe beautiful Lorenza Feliciana, a young lady of noble birth, but withoutfortune. Cagliostro soon discovered that she possessed accomplishmentsthat were invaluable. Besides her ravishing beauty, she had the readiestwit, the most engaging manners, the most fertile imagination, and theleast principle of any of the maidens of Rome. She was just the wife forCagliostro, who proposed himself to her, and was accepted. After theirmarriage, he instructed his fair Lorenza in all the secrets of hiscalling--taught her pretty lips to invoke angels, and genii, sylphs, salamanders, and undines, and, when need required, devils and evilspirits. Lorenza was an apt scholar; she soon learned all the jargon ofthe alchymists and all the spells of the enchanters; and thus accomplishedthe hopeful pair set out on their travels, to levy contributions on thesuperstitious and the credulous. 

They first went to Sleswig on a visit to the Count de St. Germain, theirgreat predecessor in the art of making dupes, and were received by him inthe most magnificent manner. They no doubt fortified their minds for thecareer they had chosen by the sage discourse of that worshipful gentleman;for immediately after they left him, they began their operations. Theytravelled for three or four years in Russia, Poland, and Germany, transmuting metals, telling fortunes, raising spirits, and selling the_elixir vitæ_ wherever they went; but there is no record of their doingsfrom whence to draw a more particular detail. It was not until they madetheir appearance in England in 1776, that the names of the Count andCountess di Cagliostro began to acquire a European reputation. Theyarrived in London in the July of that year, possessed of property, inplate, jewels, and specie, to the amount of about three thousand pounds. They hired apartments in Whitcombe Street, and lived for some monthsquietly. In the same house there lodged a Portuguese woman, named Blavary, who, being in necessitous circumstances, was engaged by the count asinterpreter. She was constantly admitted into his laboratory, where hespent much of his time in search of the philosopher's stone. She spreadabroad the fame of her entertainer in return for his hospitality, andlaboured hard to impress every body with as full a belief in hisextraordinary powers as she felt herself; but as a female interpreter ofthe rank and appearance of Madame Blavary did not exactly correspond withthe count's notions either of dignity or decorum, he hired a person namedVitellini, a teacher of languages, to act in that capacity. Vitellini wasa desperate gambler, a man who had tried almost every resource to repairhis ruined fortunes, including among the rest the search for thephilosopher's stone. Immediately that he saw the count's operations, hewas convinced that the great secret was his, and that the golden gates ofthe palace of fortune were open to let him in. With still more enthusiasmthan Madame Blavary, he held forth to his acquaintance, and in all publicplaces, that the count was an extraordinary man, a true adept, whosefortune was immense, and who could transmute into pure and solid gold asmuch lead, iron, and copper as he pleased. The consequence was, that thehouse of Cagliostro was besieged by crowds of the idle, the credulous, andthe avaricious, all eager to obtain a sight of the "philosopher, " or toshare in the boundless wealth which he could call into existence. 

Unfortunately for Cagliostro, he had fallen into evil hands. Instead ofduping the people of England, as he might have done, he became himself thevictim of a gang of swindlers, who, with the fullest reliance on hisoccult powers, only sought to make money of him. Vitellini introduced tohim a ruined gambler like himself, named Scot, whom he represented as aScottish nobleman, attracted to London solely by his desire to see andconverse with the extraordinary man whose fame had spread to the distantmountains of the north. Cagliostro received him with great kindness andcordiality; and "Lord" Scot thereupon introduced a woman named Fry as LadyScot, who was to act as chaperone to the Countess di Cagliostro, and makeher acquainted with all the noble families of Britain. Thus things wentswimmingly. "His lordship, " whose effects had not arrived from Scotland, and who had no banker in London, borrowed two hundred pounds of the count. They were lent without scruple, so flattered was Cagliostro by theattentions they paid him, the respect, nay veneration they pretended tofeel for him, and the complete deference with which they listened to everyword that fell from his lips. 

Superstitious like all desperate gamesters, Scot had often tried magicaland cabalistic numbers, in the hope of discovering lucky numbers in thelottery or at the roulette-tables. He had in his possession a cabalisticmanuscript, containing various arithmetical combinations of the kind, which he submitted to Cagliostro, with an urgent request that he wouldselect a number. Cagliostro took the manuscript and studied it, but, as hehimself informs us, with no confidence in its truth. He, however, predicted twenty as the successful number for the 6th of Novemberfollowing. Scot ventured a small sum upon this number out of the twohundred pounds he had borrowed, and won. Cagliostro, incited by thissuccess, prognosticated number twenty-five for the next drawing. Scottried again, and won a hundred guineas. The numbers fifty-five andfifty-seven were announced with equal success for the 18th of the samemonth, to the no small astonishment and delight of Cagliostro, whothereupon resolved to try fortune for himself, and not for others. To allthe entreaties of Scot and his lady that he would predict more numbers forthem, he turned a deaf ear, even while he still thought him a lord and aman of honour; but when he discovered that he was a mere swindler, and thepretended Lady Scot an artful woman of the town, he closed his door uponthem and on all their gang. 

Having complete faith in the supernatural powers of the count, they werein the deepest distress at having lost his countenance. They tried byevery means their ingenuity could suggest to propitiate him again. Theyimplored, they threatened, and endeavoured to bribe him; but all was vain. Cagliostro would neither see nor correspond with them. In the mean timethey lived extravagantly, and in the hope of future, exhausted all theirpresent gains. They were reduced to the last extremity, when Miss Fryobtained access to the countess, and received a guinea from her on therepresentation that she was starving. Miss Fry, not contented with this, begged her to intercede with her husband, that for the last time he wouldpoint out a lucky number in the lottery. The countess promised to exerther influence; and Cagliostro, thus entreated, named the number eight, atthe same time reiterating his determination to have no more to do with anyof them. By an extraordinary hazard, which filled Cagliostro with surpriseand pleasure, number eight was the greatest prize in the lottery. Miss Fryand her associates cleared fifteen hundred guineas by the adventure, andbecame more than ever convinced of the occult powers of Cagliostro, andstrengthened in their determination never to quit him until they had madetheir fortunes. Out of the proceeds Miss Fry bought a handsome necklace ata pawnbroker's for ninety guineas. She then ordered a richly-chased goldbox, having two compartments, to be made at a jeweller's, and putting thenecklace in the one, filled the other with a fine aromatic snuff. She thensought another interview with Madame di Cagliostro, and urged her toaccept the box as a small token of her esteem and gratitude, withoutmentioning the valuable necklace that was concealed in it. Madame diCagliostro accepted the present, and was from that hour exposed to themost incessant persecution from all the confederates--Blavary, Vitellini, and the pretended Lord and Lady Scot. They flattered themselves they hadregained their lost footing in the house, and came day after day to knowlucky numbers in the lottery, sometimes forcing themselves up the stairs, and into the count's laboratory, in spite of the efforts of the servantsto prevent them. Cagliostro, exasperated at their pertinacity, threatenedto call in the assistance of the magistrates, and taking Miss Fry by theshoulders, pushed her into the street. 

From that time may be dated the misfortunes of Cagliostro. Miss Fry, atthe instigation of her paramour, determined on vengeance. Her first actwas to swear a debt of two hundred pounds against Cagliostro, and to causehim to be arrested for that sum. While he was in custody in asponging-house, Scot, accompanied by a low attorney, broke into hislaboratory, and carried off a small box, containing, as they believed, thepowder of transmutation, and a number of cabalistic manuscripts andtreatises upon alchymy. They also brought an action against him for therecovery of the necklace; and Miss Fry accused both him and his countessof sorcery and witchcraft, and of foretelling numbers in the lottery bythe aid of the Devil. This latter charge was actually heard before Mr. Justice Miller. The action of trover for the necklace was tried before theLord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, who recommended the parties tosubmit to arbitration. In the mean time Cagliostro remained in prison forseveral weeks, till having procured bail, he was liberated. He was soonafter waited upon by an attorney named Reynolds, also deep in the plot, who offered to compromise all the actions upon certain conditions. Scot, who had accompanied him, concealed himself behind the door, and suddenlyrushing out, presented a pistol at the heart of Cagliostro, swearing hewould shoot him instantly, if he would not tell him truly the art ofpredicting lucky numbers and of transmuting metals. Reynolds pretending tobe very angry, disarmed his accomplice, and entreated the count to satisfythem by fair means, and disclose his secrets, promising that if he woulddo so, they would discharge all the actions, and offer him no furthermolestation. Cagliostro replied, that threats and entreaties were alikeuseless; that he knew no secrets; and that the powder of transmutation ofwhich they had robbed him, was of no value to any body but himself. Heoffered, however, if they would discharge the actions, and return thepowder and the manuscripts, to forgive them all the money they hadswindled him out of. These conditions were refused; and Scot and Reynoldsdeparted, swearing vengeance against him. 

Cagliostro appears to have been quite ignorant of the forms of law inEngland, and to have been without a friend to advise him as to the bestcourse he should pursue. While he was conversing with his countess on thedifficulties that beset them, one of his bail called, and invited him toride in a hackney coach to the house of a person who would see himrighted. Cagliostro consented, and was driven to the King's Bench prison, where his friend left him. He did not discover for several hours that hewas a prisoner, or, in fact, understand the process of being surrenderedby one's bail. 

He regained his liberty in a few weeks; and the arbitrators between himand Miss Fry made their award against him. He was ordered to pay the twohundred pounds she had sworn against him, and to restore the necklace andgold box which had been presented to the countess. Cagliostro was sodisgusted, that he determined to quit England. His pretensions, besides, had been unmercifully exposed by a Frenchman, named Morande, the editor ofthe _Courrier de l'Europe_, published in London. To add to his distress, he was recognised in Westminster Hall as Joseph Balsamo, the swindler ofPalermo. Such a complication of disgrace was not to be borne. He and hiscountess packed up their small effects, and left England with no more thanfifty pounds, out of the three thousand they had brought with them. 

They first proceeded to Brussels, where fortune was more auspicious. Theysold considerable quantities of the elixir of life, performed many cures, and recruited their finances. They then took their course through Germanyto Russia, and always with the same success. Gold flowed into theircoffers faster than they could count it. They quite forgot all the woesthey had endured in England, and learned to be more circumspect in thechoice of their acquaintance. 

In the year 1780, they made their appearance in Strasbourg. Their fame hadreached that city before them. They took a magnificent hotel, and invitedall the principal persons of the place to their table. Their wealthappeared to be boundless, and their hospitality equal to it. Both thecount and countess acted as physicians, and gave money, advice, andmedicine to all the necessitous and suffering of the town. Many of thecures they performed astonished those regular practitioners who did notmake sufficient allowance for the wonderful influence of imagination incertain cases. The countess, who at this time was not more thanfive-and-twenty, and all radiant with grace, beauty, and cheerfulness, spoke openly of her eldest son as a fine young man of eight-and-twenty, who had been for some years a captain in the Dutch service. The tricksucceeded to admiration. All the ugly old women in Strasbourg, and formiles around, thronged the saloon of the countess to purchase the liquidwhich was to make them as blooming as their daughters; the young womencame in equal abundance, that they might preserve their charms, and whentwice as old as Ninon de l'Enclos, be more captivating than she; while menwere not wanting who were fools enough to imagine that they might keep offthe inevitable stroke of the grim foe by a few drops of the sameincomparable elixir. The countess, sooth to say, looked like anincarnation of immortal loveliness, a very goddess of youth and beauty;and it is possible that the crowds of young men and old, who at allconvenient seasons haunted the perfumed chambers of this enchantress, wereattracted less by their belief in her occult powers than from admirationof her languishing bright eyes and sparkling conversation. But amid allthe incense that was offered at her shrine, Madame di Cagliostro was everfaithful to her spouse. She encouraged hopes, it is true, but she neverrealised them; she excited admiration, yet kept it within bounds; and mademen her slaves, without ever granting a favour of which the vainest mightboast. 

In this city they made the acquaintance of many eminent persons, and, among others, of the Cardinal Prince de Rohan, who was destined afterwardsto exercise so untoward an influence over their fate. The cardinal, whoseems to have had great faith in him as a philosopher, persuaded him tovisit Paris in his company, which he did, but remained only thirteen days. He preferred the society of Strasbourg, and returned thither with theintention of fixing his residence far from the capital. But he soon foundthat the first excitement of his arrival had passed away. People began toreason with themselves, and to be ashamed of their own admiration. Thepopulace, among whom he had lavished his charity with a bountiful hand, accused him of being the Antichrist, the Wandering Jew, the man offourteen hundred years of age, a demon in human shape, sent to lure theignorant to their destruction; while the more opulent and better informedcalled him a spy in the pay of foreign governments, an agent of thepolice, a swindler, and a man of evil life. The outcry grew at last sostrong, that he deemed it prudent to try his fortune elsewhere. 

He went first to Naples, but that city was too near Palermo; he dreadedrecognition from some of his early friends, and, after a short stay, returned to France. He chose Bourdeaux as his next dwelling-place, andcreated as great a sensation there as he had done in Strasbourg. Heannounced himself as the founder of a new school of medicine andphilosophy, boasted of his ability to cure all diseases, and invited thepoor and suffering to visit him, and he would relieve the distress of theone class, and cure the ailings of the other. All day long the streetopposite his magnificent hotel was crowded by the populace; the halt andthe blind, women with sick babes in their arms, and persons sufferingunder every species of human infirmity, flocked to this wonderful doctor. The relief he afforded in money more than counterbalanced the failure ofhis nostrums; and the affluence of people from all the surrounding countrybecame so great, that the _jurats_ of the city granted him a militaryguard, to be stationed day and night before his door, to keep order. Theanticipations of Cagliostro were realised. The rich were struck withadmiration of his charity and benevolence, and impressed with a fullconviction of his marvellous powers. The sale of the elixir went onadmirably. His saloons were thronged with wealthy dupes who came topurchase immortality. Beauty, that would endure for centuries, was theattraction for the fair sex; health and strength for the same period werethe baits held out to the other. His charming countess, in the meantime, brought grist to the mill by telling fortunes and casting nativities, orgranting attendant sylphs to any ladies who would pay sufficiently fortheir services. What was still better, as tending to keep up the credit ofher husband, she gave the most magnificent parties in Bourdeaux. 

But as at Strasbourg, the popular delusion lasted for a few months only, and burned itself out; Cagliostro forgot, in the intoxication of success, that there was a limit to quackery which once passed inspired distrust. When he pretended to call spirits from the tomb, people becameincredulous. He was accused of being an enemy to religion, of denyingChrist, and of being the Wandering Jew. He despised these rumours as longas they were confined to a few; but when they spread over the town, whenhe received no more fees, when his parties were abandoned, and hisacquaintance turned away when they met him in the street, he thought ithigh time to shift his quarters. 

[Illustration: HOUSE OF CAGLIOSTRO, PARIS. ]

He was by this time wearied of the provinces, and turned his thoughts tothe capital. On his arrival he announced himself as the restorer ofEgyptian Freemasonry, and the founder of a new philosophy. He immediatelymade his way into the best society by means of his friend the Cardinal deRohan. His success as a magician was quite extraordinary: the mostconsiderable persons of the time visited him. He boasted of being able, like the Rosicrucians, to converse with the elementary spirits; to invokethe mighty dead from the grave, to transmute metals, and to discoveroccult things by means of the special protection of God towards him. LikeDr. Dee, he summoned the angels to reveal the future; and they appearedand conversed with him in crystals and under glass bells. [48] "There washardly, " says the _Biographie des Contemporains_, "a fine lady in Pariswho would not sup with the shade of Lucretius in the apartments ofCagliostro; a military officer who would not discuss the art of war withCæsar, Hannibal, or Alexander; or an advocate or counsellor who would notargue legal points with the ghost of Cicero. " These interviews with thedeparted were very expensive; for, as Cagliostro said, the dead would notrise for nothing. The countess, as usual, exercised all her ingenuity tosupport her husband's credit. She was a great favourite with her own sex, to many a delighted and wondering auditory of whom she detailed themarvellous powers of Cagliostro. She said he could render himselfinvisible, traverse the world with the rapidity of thought, and be inseveral places at the same time. [49]

 [48] See the Abbé Fiard, and _Anecdotes of the Reign of Louis XVI_. P. 400. 

 [49] _Biographie des Contemporains_, article "Cagliostro. " See also _Histoire de la Magie en France_, par M. Jules Garinet, p. 284. 

He had not been long at Paris before he became involved in the celebratedaffair of the queen's necklace. His friend the Cardinal de Rohan, enamoured of the charms of Marie Antoinette, was in sore distress at hercoldness, and the displeasure she had so often manifested against him. There was at that time a lady named La Motte in the service of the queen, of whom the cardinal was foolish enough to make a confidant. Madame de laMotte, in return, endeavoured to make a tool of the cardinal, andsucceeded but too well in her projects. In her capacity of chamber-woman, or lady of honour to the queen, she was present at an interview betweenher majesty and M. Boehmer, a wealthy jeweller of Paris, when the latteroffered for sale a magnificent diamond necklace, valued at 1, 600, 000francs, or about 64, 000l. Sterling. The queen admired it greatly, butdismissed the jeweller, with the expression of her regret that she was toopoor to purchase it. Madame de la Motte formed a plan to get this costlyornament into her own possession, and determined to make the Cardinal deRohan the instrument by which to effect it. She therefore sought aninterview with him, and pretending to sympathise in his grief for thequeen's displeasure, told him she knew a way by which he might be restoredto favour. She then mentioned the necklace, and the sorrow of the queenthat she could not afford to buy it. The cardinal, who was as wealthy ashe was foolish, immediately offered to purchase the necklace, and make apresent of it to the queen. Madame de la Motte told him by no means to doso, as he would thereby offend her majesty. His plan would be to inducethe jeweller to give her majesty credit, and accept her promissory notefor the amount at a certain date, to be hereafter agreed upon. Thecardinal readily agreed to the proposal, and instructed the jeweller todraw up an agreement, and he would procure the queen's signature. Heplaced this in the hands of Madame de la Motte, who returned it shortlyafterwards, with the words, "Bon, bon--approuvé--Marie Antoinette, "written in the margin. She told him at the same time that the queen washighly pleased with his conduct in the matter, and would appoint a meetingwith him in the gardens of Versailles, when she would present him with aflower, as a token of her regard. The cardinal shewed the forged documentto the jeweller, obtained the necklace, and delivered it into the hands ofMadame de la Motte. So far all was well. Her next object was to satisfythe cardinal, who awaited impatiently the promised interview with hisroyal mistress. There was at that time in Paris a young woman namedD'Oliva, noted for her resemblance to the queen; and Madame de la Motte, on the promise of a handsome reward, found no difficulty in persuading herto personate Marie Antoinette, and meet the Cardinal de Rohan at theevening twilight in the gardens of Versailles. The meeting took placeaccordingly. The cardinal was deceived by the uncertain light, the greatresemblance of the counterfeit, and his own hopes; and having received theflower from Mademoiselle D'Oliva, went home with a lighter heart than hadbeat in his bosom for many a day. [50]

 [50] The enemies of the unfortunate Queen of France, when the progress of the Revolution embittered their animosity against her, maintained that she was really a party in this transaction; that she, and not Mademoiselle D'Oliva, met the cardinal and rewarded him with the flower; and that the story above related was merely concocted between her La Motte, and others to cheat the jeweller of his 1, 600, 000 francs. 

In the course of time the forgery of the queen's signature was discovered. Boehmer the jeweller immediately named the Cardinal de Rohan and Madame dela Motte as the persons with whom he had negotiated, and they were botharrested and thrown into the Bastille. La Motte was subjected to arigorous examination, and the disclosures she made implicating Cagliostro, he was seized, along with his wife, and also sent to the Bastille. A storyinvolving so much scandal necessarily excited great curiosity. Nothing wasto be heard of in Paris but the queen's necklace, with surmises of theguilt or innocence of the several parties implicated. The husband ofMadame de la Motte escaped to England, and in the opinion of many took thenecklace with him, and there disposed of it to different jewellers insmall quantities at a time. But Madame de la Motte insisted that she hadentrusted it to Cagliostro, who had seized and taken it to pieces, to"swell the treasures of his immense unequalled fortune. " She spoke of himas "an empiric, a mean alchymist, a dreamer on the philosopher's stone, afalse prophet, a profaner of the true worship, the self-dubbed CountCagliostro!" She further said that he originally conceived the project ofruining the Cardinal de Rohan; that he persuaded her, by the exercise ofsome magic influence over her mind, to aid and abet the scheme; and thathe was a robber, a swindler, and a sorcerer!

After all the accused parties had remained for upwards of six months inthe Bastille, the trial commenced. The depositions of the witnesses havingbeen heard, Cagliostro, as the principal culprit, was first called uponfor his defence. He was listened to with the most breathless attention. Heput himself into a theatrical attitude, and thus began:--"I amoppressed!--I am accused!--I am calumniated! Have I deserved this fate? Idescend into my conscience, and I there find the peace that men refuse me!I have travelled a great deal--I am known over all Europe, and a greatpart of Asia and Africa. I have every where shewn myself the friend of myfellow-creatures. My knowledge, my time, my fortune have ever beenemployed in the relief of distress. I have studied and practised medicine;but I have never degraded that most noble and most consoling of arts bymercenary speculations of any kind. Though always giving, and neverreceiving, I have preserved my independence. I have even carried mydelicacy so far as to refuse the favours of kings. I have givengratuitously my remedies and my advice to the rich; the poor have receivedfrom me both remedies and money. I have never contracted any debts, and mymanners are pure and uncorrupted. " After much more self-laudation of thesame kind, he went on to complain of the great hardships he had endured inbeing separated for so many months from his innocent and loving wife, who, as he was given to understand, had been detained in the Bastille, andperhaps chained in an unwholesome dungeon. He denied unequivocally that hehad the necklace, or that he had ever seen it; and to silence the rumoursand accusations against him, which his own secrecy with regard to theevents of his life had perhaps originated, he expressed himself ready tosatisfy the curiosity of the public, and to give a plain and full accountof his career. He then told a romantic and incredible tale, which imposedupon no one. He said he neither knew the place of his birth nor the nameof his parents, but that he spent his infancy in Medina, in Arabia, andwas brought up under the name of Acharat. He lived in the palace of theGreat Muphti in that city, and always had three servants to wait upon him, besides his preceptor, named Althotas. This Althotas was very fond of him, and told him that his father and mother, who were Christians and nobles, died when he was three months old, and left him in the care of the Muphti. He could never, he said, ascertain their names, for whenever he askedAlthotas the question, he was told that it would be dangerous for him toknow. Some incautious expressions dropped by his preceptor gave him reasonto think they were from Malta. At the age of twelve he began his travels, and learned the various languages of the East. He remained three years inMecca, where the cherif, or governor, shewed him so much kindness, andspoke to him so tenderly and affectionately, that he sometimes thoughtthat personage was his father. He quitted this good man with tears in hiseyes, and never saw him afterwards; but he was convinced that he was, evenat that moment, indebted to his care for all the advantages he enjoyed. Whenever he arrived in any city, either of Europe or Asia, he found anaccount opened for him at the principal bankers' or merchants'. He coulddraw upon them to the amount of thousands and hundreds of thousands; andno questions were ever asked beyond his name. He had only to mention theword 'Acharat, ' and all his wants were supplied. He firmly believed thatthe Cherif of Mecca was the friend to whom all was owing. This was thesecret of his wealth, and he had no occasion to resort to swindling for alivelihood. It was not worth his while to steal a diamond necklace when hehad wealth enough to purchase as many as he pleased, and more magnificentones than had ever been worn by a queen of France. As to the other chargesbrought against him by Madame de la Motte, he had but a short answer togive. She had called him an empiric. He was not unfamiliar with the word. If it meant a man who, without being a physician, had some knowledge ofmedicine, and took no fees--who cured both rich and poor, and took nomoney from either, he confessed that he was such a man, that he was anempiric. She had also called him a mean alchymist. Whether he were analchymist or not, the epithet _mean_ could only be applied to those whobegged and cringed, and he had never done either. As regarded his being adreamer about the philosopher's stone, whatever his opinions upon thatsubject might be, he had been silent, and had never troubled the publicwith his dreams. Then, as to his being a false prophet, he had not alwaysbeen so; for he had prophesied to the Cardinal de Rohan, that Madame de laMotte would prove a dangerous woman, and the result had verified theprediction. He denied that he was a profaner of the true worship, or thathe had ever striven to bring religion into contempt; on the contrary, herespected every man's religion, and never meddled with it. He also deniedthat he was a Rosicrucian, or that he had ever pretended to be threehundred years of age, or to have had one man in his service for a hundredand fifty years. In conclusion, he said every statement that Madame de laMotte had made regarding him was false, and that she was _mentirisimpudentissime_, which two words he begged her counsel to translate forher, as it was not polite to tell her so in French. 

Such was the substance of his extraordinary answer to the charges againsthim; an answer which convinced those who were before doubtful that he wasone of the most impudent impostors that had ever run the career ofdeception. Counsel were then heard on behalf of the Cardinal de Rohan andMadame de la Motte. It appearing clearly that the cardinal was himself thedupe of a vile conspiracy, and there being no evidence against Cagliostro, they were both acquitted. Madame de la Motte was found guilty, andsentenced to be publicly whipped, and branded with a hot iron on the back. 

Cagliostro and his wife were then discharged from custody. On applying tothe officers of the Bastille for the papers and effects which had beenseized at his lodgings, he found that many of them had been abstracted. Hethereupon brought an action against them for the recovery of his Mss. Anda small portion of the powder of transmutation. Before the affair could bedecided, he received orders to quit Paris within four-and-twenty hours. Fearing that if he were once more enclosed in the dungeons of the Bastillehe should never see daylight again, he took his departure immediately andproceeded to England. On his arrival in London he made the acquaintance ofthe notorious Lord George Gordon, who espoused his cause warmly, andinserted a letter in the public papers, animadverting upon the conduct ofthe Queen of France in the affair of the necklace, and asserting that shewas really the guilty party. For this letter Lord George was exposed to aprosecution at the instance of the French ambassador, found guilty oflibel, and sentenced to fine and a long imprisonment. 

Cagliostro and the countess afterwards travelled in Italy, where they werearrested by the Papal government in 1789, and condemned to death. Thecharges against him were, that he was a freemason, a heretic, and asorcerer. This unjustifiable sentence was afterwards commuted into one ofperpetual imprisonment in the Castle of St. Angelo. His wife was allowedto escape severer punishment by immuring herself in a nunnery. Cagliostrodid not long survive. The loss of liberty preyed upon hismind--accumulated misfortunes had injured his health and broken hisspirit, and he died early in 1790. His fate may have been no better thanhe deserved, but it is impossible not to feel that his sentence for thecrimes assigned was utterly disgraceful to the government that pronouncedit. 

PRESENT STATE OF ALCHYMY. 

We have now finished the list of the persons who have most distinguishedthemselves in this unprofitable pursuit. Among them are men of all ranks, characters, and conditions: the truth-seeking but erring philosopher; theambitious prince and the needy noble, who have believed in it; as well asthe designing charlatan, who has not believed in it, but has merely madethe pretension to it the means of cheating his fellows, and living upontheir credulity. One or more of all these classes will be found in theforegoing pages. It will be seen, from the record of their lives, that thedelusion was not altogether without its uses. Men, in striving to gain toomuch, do not always overreach themselves; if they cannot arrive at theinaccessible mountain-top, they may perhaps get half way towards it, andpick up some scraps of wisdom and knowledge on the road. The usefulscience of chemistry is not a little indebted to its spurious brother ofalchymy. Many valuable discoveries have been made in that search for theimpossible, which might otherwise have been hidden for centuries yet tocome. Roger Bacon, in searching for the philosopher's stone, discoveredgunpowder, a still more extraordinary substance. Van Helmont, in the samepursuit, discovered the properties of gas; Geber made discoveries inchemistry which were equally important; and Paracelsus, amidst hisperpetual visions of the transmutation of metals, found that mercury was aremedy for one of the most odious and excruciating of all the diseasesthat afflict humanity. 

In our day little mention is made in Europe of any new devotees of thescience, though it is affirmed that one or two of our most illustrious menof science do not admit the pursuit to be so absurd and vain as it hasbeen commonly considered in recent times. The belief in witchcraft, whichis scarcely more absurd, still lingers in the popular mind; but few are socredulous as to believe that any elixir could make man live for centuries, or turn all our iron and pewter into gold. Alchymy, in Europe, may be saidto be almost wholly exploded; but in the East it still flourishes in asgreat repute as ever. Recent travellers make constant mention of it, especially in China, Hindostan, Persia, Tartary, Egypt, and Arabia. 

MODERN PROPHECIES. 

[Illustration: A]

An epidemic terror of the end of the world has several times spread overthe nations. The most remarkable was that which seized Christendom aboutthe middle of the tenth century. Numbers of fanatics appeared in France, Germany, and Italy at that time, preaching that the thousand yearsprophesied in the Apocalypse as the term of the world's duration wereabout to expire, and that the Son of Man would appear in the clouds tojudge the godly and the ungodly. The delusion appears to have beendiscouraged by the Church, but it nevertheless spread rapidly among thepeople. [51]

 [51] See Gibbon and Voltaire for further notice of this subject. 

The scene of the last judgment was expected to be at Jerusalem. In theyear 999, the number of pilgrims proceeding eastward, to await the comingof the Lord in that city, was so great that they were compared to adesolating army. Most of them sold their goods and possessions before theyquitted Europe, and lived upon the proceeds in the Holy Land. Buildings ofevery sort were suffered to fall into ruins. It was thought useless torepair them, when the end of the world was so near. Many noble edificeswere deliberately pulled down. Even churches, usually so well maintained, shared the general neglect. Knights, citizens, and serfs, travelledeastwards in company, taking with them their wives and children, singingpsalms as they went, and looking with fearful eyes upon the sky, whichthey expected each minute to open, to let the Son of God descend in hisglory. 

During the thousandth year the number of pilgrims increased. Most of themwere smitten with terror as with a plague. Every phenomenon of naturefilled them with alarm. A thunder-storm sent them all upon their knees inmid-march. It was the opinion that thunder was the voice of God, announcing the day of judgment. Numbers expected the earth to open, andgive up its dead at the sound. Every meteor in the sky seen at Jerusalembrought the whole Christian population into the streets to weep and pray. The pilgrims on the road were in the same alarm:

 "Lorsque, pendant la nuit, un globe de lumière S'échappa quelquefois de la voûte de cieux, Et traça dans sa chûte un long sillon de feux, La troupe suspendit sa marche solitaire. "[52]

 [52] _Charlemagne: Poëme épique par Lucien Buonaparte. _

Fanatic preachers kept up the flame of terror. Every shooting starfurnished occasion for a sermon, in which the sublimity of the approachingjudgment was the principal topic. 

The appearance of comets has been often thought to foretell the speedydissolution of this world. Part of this belief still exists; but the cometis no longer looked upon as the sign, but the agent of destruction. Solately as in the year 1832 the greatest alarm spread over the continent ofEurope, especially in Germany, lest the comet, whose appearance was thenforetold by astronomers, should destroy the earth. The danger of our globewas gravely discussed. Many persons refrained from undertaking orconcluding any business during that year, in consequence solely of theirapprehension that this terrible comet would dash us and our world toatoms. 

During seasons of great pestilence, men have often believed the propheciesof crazed fanatics, that the end of the world was come. Credulity isalways greatest in times of calamity. During the great plague, whichravaged all Europe between the years 1345 and 1350, it was generallyconsidered that the end of the world was at hand. Pretended prophets wereto be found in all the principal cities of Germany, France, and Italy, predicting that within ten years the trump of the archangel would sound, and the Saviour appear in the clouds to call the earth to judgment. 

No little consternation was created in London in 1736 by the prophecy ofthe famous Whiston, that the world would be destroyed in that year, on the13th of October. Crowds of people went out on the appointed day toIslington, Hampstead, and the fields intervening, to see the destructionof London, which was to be the "beginning of the end. " A satirical accountof this folly is given in Swift's _Miscellanies_, vol. Iii. , entitled _Atrue and faithful Narrative of what passed in London on a Rumour of theDay of Judgment_. An authentic narrative of this delusion would beinteresting; but this solemn witticism of Pope and Gay is not to bedepended upon. 

In the year 1761 the citizens of London were alarmed by two shocks of anearthquake, and the prophecy of a third, which was to destroy themaltogether. The first shock was felt on the 8th of February, and threwdown several chimneys in the neighbourhood of Limehouse and Poplar; thesecond happened on the 8th of March, and was chiefly felt in the north ofLondon, and towards Hampstead and Highgate. It soon became the subject ofgeneral remark, that there was exactly an interval of a month between theshocks; and a crack-brained fellow, named Bell, a soldier in the LifeGuards, was so impressed with the idea that there would be a third inanother month, that he lost his senses altogether, and ran about thestreets predicting the destruction of London on the 5th of April. Mostpeople thought that the _first_ would have been a more appropriate day;but there were not wanting thousands who confidently believed theprediction, and took measures to transport themselves and families fromthe scene of the impending calamity. As the awful day approached, theexcitement became intense, and great numbers of credulous people resortedto all the villages within a circuit of twenty miles, awaiting the doom ofLondon. Islington, Highgate, Hampstead, Harrow, and Blackheath, werecrowded with panic-stricken fugitives, who paid exorbitant prices foraccommodation to the housekeepers of these secure retreats. Such as couldnot afford to pay for lodgings at any of those places, remained in Londonuntil two or three days before the time, and then encamped in thesurrounding fields, awaiting the tremendous shock which was to lay theirhigh city all level with the dust. As happened during a similar panic inthe time of Henry VIII. , the fear became contagious, and hundreds who hadlaughed at the prediction a week before, packed up their goods, when theysaw others doing so, and hastened away. The river was thought to be aplace of great security, and all the merchant-vessels in the port werefilled with people, who passed the night between the 4th and 5th on board, expecting every instant to see St. Paul's totter, and the towers ofWestminster Abbey rock in the wind and fall amid a cloud of dust. Thegreater part of the fugitives returned on the following day, convincedthat the prophet was a false one; but many judged it more prudent to allowa week to elapse before they trusted their dear limbs in London. Bell lostall credit in a short time, and was looked upon even by the most credulousas a mere madman. He tried some other prophecies, but nobody was deceivedby them; and, in a few months afterwards, he was confined in a lunaticasylum. 

A panic terror of the end of the world seized the good people of Leeds andits neighbourhood in the year 1806. It arose from the followingcircumstances. A hen, in a village close by, laid eggs, on which wereinscribed the words, "_Christ is coming_. " Great numbers visited the spot, and examined these wondrous eggs, convinced that the day of judgment wasnear at hand. Like sailors in a storm, expecting every instant to go tothe bottom, the believers suddenly became religious, prayed violently, andflattered themselves that they repented them of their evil courses. But aplain tale soon put them down, and quenched their religion entirely. Somegentlemen, hearing of the matter, went one fine morning, and caught thepoor hen in the act of laying one of her miraculous eggs. They soonascertained beyond doubt that the egg had been inscribed with somecorrosive ink, and cruelly forced up again into the bird's body. At thisexplanation, those who had prayed, now laughed, and the world wagged asmerrily as of yore. 

At the time of the plague in Milan, in 1630, of which so affecting adescription has been left us by Ripamonte, in his interesting work, _DePeste Mediolani_, the people, in their distress, listened with avidity tothe predictions of astrologers and other impostors. It is singular enoughthat the plague was foretold a year before it broke out. A large cometappearing in 1628, the opinions of astrologers were divided with regard toit. Some insisted that it was a forerunner of a bloody war; othersmaintained that it predicted a great famine; but the greater number, founding their judgment upon its pale colour, thought it portended apestilence. The fulfilment of their prediction brought them into greatrepute while the plague was raging. 

Other prophecies were current, which were asserted to have been deliveredhundreds of years previously. They had a most pernicious effect upon themind of the vulgar, as they induced a belief in fatalism. By taking awaythe hope of recovery--that greatest balm in every malady--they increasedthreefold the ravages of the disease. One singular prediction almost drovethe unhappy people mad. An ancient couplet, preserved for ages bytradition, foretold, that in the year 1630 the devil would poison allMilan. Early one morning in April, and before the pestilence had reachedits height, the passengers were surprised to see that all the doors in theprincipal streets of the city were marked with a curious daub, or spot, asif a sponge, filled with the purulent matter of the plague-sores, had beenpressed against them. The whole population were speedily in movement toremark the strange appearance, and the greatest alarm spread rapidly. Every means was taken to discover the perpetrators, but in vain. At lastthe ancient prophecy was remembered, and prayers were offered up in allthe churches, that the machinations of the Evil One might be defeated. Many persons were of opinion that the emissaries of foreign powers wereemployed to spread infectious poison over the city; but by far the greaternumber were convinced that the powers of hell had conspired against them, and that the infection was spread by supernatural agencies. In the meantime the plague increased fearfully. Distrust and alarm took possession ofevery mind. Every thing was believed to have been poisoned by the Devil;the waters of the wells, the standing corn in the fields, and the fruitupon the trees. It was believed that all objects of touch were poisoned;the walls of the houses, the pavements of the streets, and the veryhandles of the doors. The populace were raised to a pitch of ungovernablefury. A strict watch was kept for the Devil's emissaries, and any man whowanted to be rid of an enemy, had only to say that he had seen himbesmearing a door with ointment; his fate was certain death at the handsof the mob. An old man, upwards of eighty years of age, a daily frequenterof the church of St. Antonio, was seen, on rising from his knees, to wipewith the skirt of his cloak the stool on which he was about to sit down. Acry was raised immediately that he was besmearing the seat with poison. Amob of women, by whom the church was crowded, seized hold of the feebleold man, and dragged him out by the hair of his head, with horrid oathsand imprecations. He was trailed in this manner through the mire to thehouse of the municipal judge, that he might be put to the rack, and forcedto discover his accomplices; but he expired on the way. Many other victimswere sacrificed to the popular fury. One Mora, who appears to have beenhalf a chemist and half a barber, was accused of being in league with theDevil to poison Milan. His house was surrounded, and a number of chemicalpreparations were found. The poor man asserted, that they were intended aspreservatives against infection; but some physicians, to whom they weresubmitted, declared they were poison, Mora was put to the rack, where hefor a long time asserted his innocence. He confessed at last, when hiscourage was worn down by torture, that he was in league with the Devil andforeign powers to poison the whole city; that he had anointed the doors, and infected the fountains of water. He named several persons as hisaccomplices, who were apprehended and put to a similar torture. They wereall found guilty, and executed. Mora's house was rased to the ground, anda column erected on the spot, with an inscription to commemorate hisguilt. 

While the public mind was filled with these marvellous occurrences, theplague continued to increase. The crowds that were brought together towitness the executions spread the infection among one another. But thefury of their passions, and the extent of their credulity, kept pace withthe violence of the plague; every wonderful and preposterous story wasbelieved. One, in particular, occupied them to the exclusion, for a longtime, of every other. The Devil himself had been seen. He had taken ahouse in Milan, in which he prepared his poisonous unguents, and furnishedthem to his emissaries for distribution. One man had brooded over suchtales till he became firmly convinced that the wild nights of his ownfancy were realities. He stationed himself in the market-place of Milan, and related the following story to the crowds that gathered round him. Hewas standing, he said, at the door of the cathedral, late in the evening;and when there was nobody nigh, he saw a dark-coloured chariot, drawn bysix milk-white horses, stop close beside him. The chariot was followed bya numerous train of domestics in dark liveries, mounted on dark-colouredsteeds. In the chariot there sat a tall stranger of a majestic aspect; hislong black hair floated in the wind--fire flashed from his large blackeyes, and a curl of ineffable scorn dwelt upon his lips. The look of thestranger was so sublime that he was awed, and trembled with fear when hegazed upon him. His complexion was much darker than that of any man he hadever seen, and the atmosphere around him was hot and suffocating. Heperceived immediately that he was a being of another world. The stranger, seeing his trepidation, asked him blandly, yet majestically, to mountbeside him. He had no power to refuse, and before he was well aware thathe had moved, he found himself in the chariot. Onwards they went, with therapidity of the wind, the stranger speaking no word, until they stoppedbefore a door in the high-street of Milan. There was a crowd of people inthe street, but, to his great surprise, no one seemed to notice theextraordinary equipage and its numerous train. From this he concluded thatthey were invisible. The house at which they stopped appeared to be ashop, but the interior was like a vast half-ruined palace. He went withhis mysterious guide through several large and dimly-lighted rooms. In oneof them, surrounded by huge pillars of marble, a senate of ghosts wasassembled, debating on the progress of the plague. Other parts of thebuilding were enveloped in the thickest darkness, illumined at intervalsby flashes of lightning, which allowed him to distinguish a number ofgibing and chattering skeletons, running about and pursuing each other, orplaying at leap-frog over one another's backs. At the rear of the mansionwas a wild, uncultivated plot of ground, in the midst of which arose ablack rock. Down its sides rushed with fearful noise a torrent ofpoisonous water, which, insinuating itself through the soil, penetrated toall the springs of the city, and rendered them unfit for use. After he hadbeen shewn all this, the stranger led him into another large chamber, filled with gold and precious stones, all of which he offered him if hewould kneel down and worship him, and consent to smear the doors andhouses of Milan with a pestiferous salve which he held out to him. He nowknew him to be the Devil, and in that moment of temptation, prayed to Godto give him strength to resist. His prayer was heard--he refused thebribe. The stranger scowled horribly upon him--a loud clap of thunderburst over his head--the vivid lightning flashed in his eyes, and the nextmoment he found himself standing alone at the porch of the cathedral. Herepeated this strange tale day after day, without any variation, and allthe populace were firm believers in its truth. Repeated search was made todiscover the mysterious house, but all in vain. The man pointed outseveral as resembling it, which were searched by the police; but the Demonof the Pestilence was not to be found, nor the hall of ghosts, nor thepoisonous fountain. But the minds of the people were so impressed with theidea, that scores of witnesses, half crazed by disease, came forward toswear that they also had seen the diabolical stranger, and had heard hischariot, drawn by the milk-white steeds, rumbling over the streets atmidnight with a sound louder than thunder. 

The number of persons who confessed that they were employed by the Devilto distribute poison is almost incredible. An epidemic frenzy was abroad, which seemed to be as contagious as the plague. Imagination was asdisordered as the body, and day after day persons came voluntarily forwardto accuse themselves. They generally had the marks of disease upon them, and some died in the act of confession. 

During the great plague of London, in 1665, the people listened withsimilar avidity to the predictions of quacks and fanatics. Defoe says, that at that time the people were more addicted to prophecies andastronomical conjurations, dreams, and old wives' tales than ever theywere before or since. Almanacs, and their predictions, frightened themterribly. Even the year before the plague broke out, they were greatlyalarmed by the comet which then appeared, and anticipated that famine, pestilence, or fire would follow. Enthusiasts, while yet the disease hadmade but little progress, ran about the streets, predicting that in a fewdays London would be destroyed. 

A still more singular instance of the faith in predictions occurred inLondon in the year 1524. The city swarmed at that time withfortune-tellers and astrologers, who were consulted daily by people ofevery class in society on the secrets of futurity. As early as the monthof June 1523, several of them concurred in predicting that, on the 1st dayof February 1524, the waters of the Thames would swell to such a height asto overflow the whole city of London, and wash away ten thousand houses. The prophecy met implicit belief. It was reiterated with the utmostconfidence month after month, until so much alarm was excited that manyfamilies packed up their goods, and removed into Kent and Essex. As thetime drew nigh, the number of these emigrants increased. In January, droves of workmen might be seen, followed by their wives and children, trudging on foot to the villages within fifteen or twenty miles, to awaitthe catastrophe. People of a higher class were also to be seen in wagonsand other vehicles bound on a similar errand. By the middle of January, atleast twenty thousand persons had quitted the doomed city, leaving nothingbut the bare walls of their homes to be swept away by the impendingfloods. Many of the richer sort took up their abode on the heights ofHighgate, Hampstead, and Blackheath; and some erected tents as far away asWaltham Abbey on the north, and Croydon on the south of the Thames. Bolton, the prior of St. Bartholomew's, was so alarmed, that he erected, at a very great expense, a sort of fortress at Harrow-on-the-Hill, whichhe stocked with provisions for two months. On the 24th of January, a weekbefore the awful day which was to see the destruction of London, heremoved thither, with the brethren and officers of the priory and all hishousehold. A number of boats were conveyed in wagons to his fortress, furnished abundantly with expert rowers, in case the flood, reaching sohigh as Harrow, should force them to go farther for a resting-place. Manywealthy citizens prayed to share his retreat; but the prior, with aprudent forethought, admitted only his personal friends, and those whobrought stores of eatables for the blockade. 

At last the morn, big with the fate of London, appeared in the east. Thewondering crowds were astir at an early hour to watch the rising of thewaters. The inundation, it was predicted, would be gradual, not sudden; sothat they expected to have plenty of time to escape as soon as they sawthe bosom of old Thames heave beyond the usual mark. But the majority weretoo much alarmed to trust to this, and thought themselves safer ten ortwenty miles off. The Thames, unmindful of the foolish crowds upon itsbanks, flowed on quietly as of yore. The tide ebbed at its usual hour, flowed to its usual height, and then ebbed again, just as if twentyastrologers had not pledged their words to the contrary. Blank were theirfaces as evening approached, and as blank grew the faces of the citizensto think that they had made such fools of themselves. At last night setin, and the obstinate river would not lift its waters to sweep away evenone house out of the ten thousand. Still, however, the people were afraidto go to sleep. Many hundreds remained up till dawn of the next day, lestthe deluge should come upon them like a thief in the night. 

On the morrow, it was seriously discussed whether it would not beadvisable to duck the false prophets in the river. Luckily for them, theythought of an expedient which allayed the popular fury. They assertedthat, by an error (a very slight one, ) of a little figure, they had fixedthe date of this awful inundation a whole century too early. The starswere right after all, and they, erring mortals, were wrong. The presentgeneration of cockneys was safe, and London would be washed away, not in1524, but in 1624. At this announcement, Bolton the prior dismantled hisfortress, and the weary emigrants came back. 

An eye-witness of the great fire of London, in an account preserved amongthe Harleian Mss. In the British Museum, and published in the transactionsof the Royal Society of Antiquaries, relates another instance of thecredulity of the Londoners. The writer, who accompanied the Duke of Yorkday by day through the district included between the Fleet-bridge and theThames, states that, in their efforts to check the progress of the flames, they were much impeded by the superstition of the people. Mother Shipton, in one of her prophecies, had said that London would be reduced to ashes, and they refused to make any efforts to prevent it. [53] A son of thenoted Sir Kenelm Digby, who was also a pretender to the gifts of prophecy, persuaded them that no power on earth could prevent the fulfilment of theprediction; for it was written in the great book of fate that London wasto be destroyed. Hundreds of persons, who might have rendered valuableassistance, and saved whole parishes from devastation, folded their armsand looked on. As many more gave themselves up, with the less compunction, to plunder a city which they could not save. [54]

 [53] This prophecy seems to have been that set forth at length in the popular _Life of Mother Shipton_:

 "When fate to England shall restore A king to reign as heretofore, Great death in London shall be though, And many houses be laid low. "

 [54] The _London Saturday Journal_ of March 12th, 1842, contains the following:--"An absurd report is gaining ground among the weak-minded, that London will be destroyed by an earthquake on the 17th of March, or St. Patrick's day. This rumour is founded on the following ancient prophecies: one professing to be pronounced in the year 1203; the other, by Dr. Dee the astrologer, in 1598:

 "In eighteen hundred and forty-two Four things the sun shall view; London's rich and famous town Hungry earth shall swallow down. Storm and rain in France shall be, Till every river runs a sea. Spain shall be rent in twain, And famine waste the land again. So say I, the Monk of Dree, In the twelve hundredth year and three. " _Harleian Collection (British Museum)_, 800 b, fol. 319. 

 "The Lord have mercy on you all-- Prepare yourselves for dreadful fall Of house and land and human soul-- The measure of your sins is full. In the year one, eight, and forty-two, Of the year that is so new; In the third month of that sixteen, It may be a day or two between-- Perhaps you'll soon be stiff and cold. Dear Christian, be not stout and bold-- The mighty, kingly-proud will see This comes to pass as my name's Dee. " 1598. _Ms. In the British Museum_. 

 The alarm of the population of London did not on this occasion extend beyond the wide circle of the uneducated classes, but among them it equalled that recorded in the text. It was soon afterwards stated that no such prophecy is to be found in the Harleian Ms. 

The prophecies of Mother Shipton are still believed in many of the ruraldistricts of England. In cottages and servants' halls her reputation isgreat; and she rules, the most popular of British prophets, among all theuneducated, or half-educated, portions of the community. She is generallysupposed to have been born at Knaresborough, in the reign of Henry VII. , and to have sold her soul to the Devil for the power of foretelling futureevents. Though during her lifetime she was looked upon as a witch, she yetescaped the witch's fate, and died peaceably in her bed at an extreme oldage, near Clifton in Yorkshire. A stone is said to have been erected toher memory in the churchyard of that place, with the following epitaph:

 "Here lies she who never lied, Whose skill often has been tried: Her prophecies shall still survive, And ever keep her name alive. "

"Never a day passed, " says her traditionary biography, "wherein, she didnot relate something remarkable, and that required the most seriousconsideration. People flocked to her from far and near, her fame was sogreat. They went to her of all sorts, both old and young, rich and poor, especially young maidens, to be resolved of their doubts relating tothings to come; and all returned wonderfully satisfied in the explanationsshe gave to their questions. " Among the rest, went the Abbot of Beverley, to whom she foretold the suppression of the monasteries by Henry VIII. , his marriage with Anne Boleyn, the fires for heretics in Smithfield, andthe execution of Mary Queen of Scots. She also foretold the accession ofJames I. , adding that, with him, "From the cold North Every evil should come forth. "

On a subsequent visit she uttered another prophecy, which, in the opinionof her believers, still remains unfulfilled, but may be expected to berealised during the present century:

 "The time shall come when seas of blood Shall mingle with a greater flood. Great noise there shall be heard--great shouts and cries, And seas shall thunder louder than the skies; Then shall three lions fight with three and bring Joy to a people, honour to a king. That fiery year as soon as o'er, Peace shall then be as before; Plenty shall every where be found, And men with swords shall plough the ground. "

But the most famous of all her prophecies is one relating to London. Thousands of persons still shudder to think of the woes that are to burstover this unhappy realm, when London and Highgate are joined by onecontinuous line of houses. This junction, which, if the rage for buildinglasts much longer, in the same proportion as heretofore, bids fair to besoon accomplished, was predicted by her shortly before her death. Revolutions--the fall of mighty monarchs, and the shedding of much bloodare to signalise that event. The very angels, afflicted by our woes, areto turn aside their heads, and weep for hapless Britain. 

But great as is the fame of Mother Shipton, she ranks but second in thelist of British prophets. Merlin, the mighty Merlin, stands alone in hishigh pre-eminence--the first and greatest. As old Drayton sings, in his_Poly-olbion_:

 "Of Merlin and his skill what region doth not hear? The world shall still be full of Merlin every year. A thousand lingering years his prophecies have run, And scarcely shall have end till time itself be done. "

Spenser, in his divine poem, has given us a powerful description of thisrenowned seer--

 "who had in magic more insight Than ever him before, or after, living wight. 

 For he by words could call out of the sky Both sun and moon, and make them him obey; The land to sea, and sea to mainland dry, And darksome night he eke could turn to day-- Huge hosts of men he could, alone, dismay. And hosts of men and meanest things could frame, Whenso him list his enemies to fray, That to this day, for terror of his name, The fiends do quake, when any him to them does name. 

 And soothe men say that he was not the sonne Of mortal sire or other living wighte, But wondrously begotten and begoune By false illusion of a guileful sprite On a faire ladye nun. "

In these verses the poet has preserved the popular belief with regard toMerlin, who is generally supposed to have been a contemporary ofVortigern. Opinion is divided as to whether he were a real personage, or amere impersonation, formed by the poetic fancy of a credulous people. Itseems most probable that such a man did exist, and that, possessingknowledge as much above the comprehension of his age, as that possessed byFriar Bacon was beyond the reach of his, he was endowed by the wonderingcrowd with the supernatural attributes that Spenser has enumerated. 

Geoffrey of Monmouth translated Merlin's poetical odes, or prophecies, into Latin prose; and he was much reverenced not only by Geoffrey, but bymost of the old annalists. In a _Life of Merlin, with his Prophecies andPredictions interpreted and made good by our English Annals_, by ThomasHeywood, published in the reign of Charles I. , we find several of thesepretended prophecies. They seem, however, to have been all written byHeywood himself. They are in terms too plain and positive to allow any oneto doubt for a moment of their having been composed _ex post facto_. Speaking of Richard I. , he says:

 "The Lion's heart will 'gainst the Saracen rise, And purchase from him many a glorious prize; The rose and lily shall at first unite, But, parting of the prey prove opposite. * * * But while abroad these great acts shall be done, All things at home shall to disorder run. Cooped up and caged then shall the Lion be, But, after sufferance, ransomed and set free. "

The simple-minded Thomas Heywood gravely goes on to inform us, that allthese things actually came to pass. Upon Richard III. He is equallyluminous. He says:

 "A hunch-backed monster, who with teeth is born, The mockery of art and nature's scorn; Who from the womb preposterously is hurled, And with feet forward thrust into the world, Shall, from the lower earth on which he stood, Wade, every step he mounts, knee-deep in blood. He shall to th' height of all his hopes aspire, And, clothed in state, his ugly shape admire; But, when he thinks himself most safe to stand, From foreign parts a native whelp shall land. "

Another of these prophecies after the event tells us that HenryVIII. Should take the power from Rome, "and bring it home untohis British bower;" that he should "root out from the land all therazored skulls;" and that he should neither spare "man in his ragenor woman in his lust;" and that, in the time of his next successorbut one, "there should come in the fagot and the stake. " MasterHeywood closes Merlin's prophecies at his own day, and does not giveeven a glimpse of what was to befall England after his decease. Manyother prophecies, besides those quoted by him, were, he says, dispersedabroad, in his day, under the name of Merlin; but he giveshis readers a taste of one only, and that is the following:

 "When hempe is ripe and ready to pull, Then, Englishman, beware thy skull. "

This prophecy, which, one would think, ought to have put him in mind ofthe gallows, at that time the not unusual fate of false prophets, heexplains thus: "In this word HEMPE be five letters. Now, by reckoning thefive successive princes from Henry VIII. , this prophecy is easilyexplained: H signifieth King Henry before-named; E, Edward, his son, thesixth of that name; M, Mary, who succeeded him; P, Philip of Spain, who, by marrying Queen Mary, participated with her in the English diadem; and, lastly, E signifieth Queen Elizabeth, after whose death there was a greatfeare that some troubles might have arisen about the crown. " As this didnot happen, Heywood, who was a sly rogue in a small way, gets out of thescrape by saying, "Yet proved this augury true, though not according tothe former expectation; for, after the peaceful inauguration of KingJames, there was great mortality, not in London only, but through thewhole kingdom, and from which the nation was not quite clean in sevenyears after. "

This is not unlike the subterfuge of Peter of Pontefract, who hadprophesied the death and deposition of King John, and who was hanged bythat monarch for his pains. A very graphic and amusing account of thispretended prophet is given by Grafton, in his _Chronicles ofEngland_. [55] "In the meanwhile, " says he, "the priestes within Englandhad provided them a false and counterfeated prophet, called PeterWakefielde, a Yorkshire man, who was an hermite, an idle gadder about, anda pratlyng marchant. Now, to bring this Peter in credite, and the kyng outof all credite with his people, diverse vaine persons bruted dayly amongthe commons of the realme, that Christe had twice appered unto him in theshape of a childe, betwene the prieste's handes, once at Yorke, anothertyme at Pomfret; and that he had breathed upon him thrice, saying, '_Peace, peace, peace_, ' and teachyng many things, which he anon declaredto the bishops, and bid the people amend their naughtie living. Being raptalso in spirite, they sayde he behelde the joyes of heaven and sorrowes ofhell; for scant were there three in the realme, sayde he, that livedchristianly. 

 [55] _Chronicles of England_, by Richard Grafton; London, 1568, p. 106. 

"This counterfeated soothsayer prophesied of King John, that he shouldreigne no longer than the Ascension-day next followyng, which was in theyere of our Lord 1211, and was the thirteenth yere from his coronation;and this, he said, he had by revelation. Then it was of him demanded, whether he should be slaine or be deposed, or should voluntarily give overthe crowne? He aunswered, that he could not tell; but of this he was sure(he sayd), that neither he nor any of his stock or lineage should reigneafter that day. 

"The king, hering of this, laughed much at it, and made but a scoffthereat. 'Tush!' saith he, 'it is but an ideot knave, and such an one aslacketh his right wittes. ' But when this foolish prophet had so escapedthe daunger of the kinge's displeasure, and that he made no more of it, hegate him abroad, and prated thereof at large, as he was a very idlevagabond, and used to trattle and talke more than ynough; so that theywhich loved the king caused him anon after to be apprehended as amalefactor, and to be throwen in prison, the king not yet knowing thereof. 

"Anone after the fame of this phantasticall prophet went all the realmeover, and his name was knowen every where, as foolishnesse is muchregarded of the people, where wisdome is not in place; specially becausehe was then imprisoned for the matter, the rumour was the larger, theirwonderynges were the wantoner, their practises the foolisher, their busyetalkes and other idle doinges the greater. Continually from thence, as therude manner of people is, old gossyps tales went abroad, new tales wereinvented, fables were added to fables, and lyes grew upon lyes. So thatevery daye newe slanders were laide upon the king, and not one of themtrue. Rumors arose, blasphemyes were sprede, the enemyes rejoyced, andtreasons by the priestes were mainteyned; and what lykewise was surmised, or other subtiltye practised, all was then fathered upon this foolishprophet, as 'thus saith Peter Wakefield;' 'thus hath he prophesied;' 'andthus it shall come to pass;' yea, many times, when he thought nothinglesse. And when the Ascension-day was come, which was prophecyed ofbefore, King John commanded his royal tent to be spread in the openfielde, passing that day with his noble counseyle and men of honour in thegreatest solemnitie that ever he did before; solacing himself withmusickale instrumentes and songs, most in sight among his trustiefriendes. When that day was paste in all prosperitie and myrth, hisenemyes being confused, turned all into an allegorical understanding tomake the prophecie good, and sayde, 'He is no longer king, for the popereigneth, and not he. ' [King John was labouring under a sentence ofexcommunication at the time. ]

"Then was the king by his council perswaded that this false prophet hadtroubled the realme, perverted the heartes of the people, and raysed theCommons against him; for his wordes went over the sea, by the help of hisprelates, and came to the French king's eare, and gave to him a greatencouragement to invade the lande. He had not else done it so sodeinely. But he was most fowly deceived, as all they are and shall be that puttheir trust in such dark drowsye dreames of hipocrites. The king thereforecommended that he should be hanged up, and his sonne also with him, lestany more false prophets should arise of that race. "

Heywood, who was a great stickler for the truth of all sorts ofprophecies, gives a much more favourable account of this Peter of Pomfret, or Pontefract, whose fate he would, in all probability, have shared, if hehad had the misfortune to have flourished in the same age. He says, thatPeter, who was not only a prophet, but a bard, predicted divers of KingJohn's disasters, which fell out accordingly. On being taxed for a lyingprophet in having predicted that the king would be deposed before heentered into the fifteenth year of his reign, he answered him boldly, thatall he had said was justifiable and true; for that, having given up hiscrown to the pope, and paying him an annual tribute, the pope reigned, andnot he. Heywood thought this explanation to be perfectly satisfactory, andthe prophet's faith for ever established. 

But to return to Merlin. Of him even to this day it may be said, in thewords which Burns has applied to another notorious personage, "Great was his power and great his fame; Far kenned and noted is his name. "

His reputation is by no means confined to the land of his birth, butextends through most of the nations of Europe. A very curious volume ofhis _Life, Prophecies, and Miracles_, written, it is supposed, by Robertde Bosron, was printed at Paris in 1498, which states, that the devilhimself was his father, and that he spoke the instant he was born, andassured his mother, a very virtuous young woman, that she should not diein childbed with him, as her ill-natured neighbours had predicted. Thejudge of the district, hearing of so marvellous an occurrence, summonedboth mother and child to appear before him; and they went accordingly thesame day. To put the wisdom of the young prophet most effectually to thetest, the judge asked him if he knew his own father? To which the infantMerlin replied, in a clear, sonorous voice, "Yes, my father is the Devil;and I have his power, and know all things, past, present, and to come. "His worship clapped his hands in astonishment, and took the prudentresolution of not molesting so awful a child or its mother either. 

Early tradition attributes the building of Stonehenge to the power ofMerlin. It was believed that those mighty stones were whirled through theair, at his command, from Ireland to Salisbury Plain; and that he arrangedthem in the form in which they now stand, to commemorate for ever theunhappy fate of three hundred British chiefs, who were massacred on thatspot by the Saxons. 

At Abergwylly, near Carmarthen, is still shewn the cave of the prophet andthe scene of his incantations. How beautiful is the description of itgiven by Spenser in his _Faerie Queene_! The lines need no apology fortheir repetition here, and any sketch of the great prophet of Britainwould be incomplete without them:

 "There the wise Merlin, whilom wont (they say, ) To make his wonne low underneath the ground, In a deep delve far from the view of day, That of no living wight he mote be found, Whenso he counselled with his sprites encompassed round. 

 And if thou ever happen that same way To travel, go to see that dreadful place; It is a hideous, hollow cave, they say, Under a rock that lies, a little space From the swift Barry, tumbling down apace Amongst the woody hills of Dynevoure; But dare thou not, I charge, in any case, To enter into that same baleful bower, For fear the cruel fiendes should thee unwares devour!

 But, standing high aloft, low lay thine eare, And there such ghastly noise of iron chaines And brazen caudrons thou shalt rombling heare, Which thousand sprites with long-enduring paines Doe tosse, that it will stun thy feeble braines; And often times great groans and grievous stownds, When too huge toile and labour them constraines; And often times loud strokes and ringing sounds From under that deep rock most horribly rebounds. 

 The cause, they say, is this. A little while Before that Merlin died, he did intend A brazen wall in compass, to compile About Cayr Merdin, and did it commend Unto these sprites to bring to perfect end; During which work the Lady of the Lake, Whom long he loved, for him in haste did send, Who thereby forced his workmen to forsake, Them bound till his return their labour not to slake. 

 In the mean time, through that false ladie's traine, He was surprised, and buried under biere, Ne ever to his work returned again; Natheless these fiendes may not their work forbeare, So greatly his commandement they fear, But there doe toile and travaile day and night, Until that brazen wall they up doe reare. "[56]

 [56] _Faerie Queene_, b. 3, c. 3, s. 6-13. 

Amongst other English prophets, a belief in whose power has not beenentirely effaced by the light of advancing knowledge, is Robert Nixon, theCheshire idiot, a contemporary of Mother Shipton. The popular accounts ofthis man say, that he was born of poor parents, not far from Vale Royal, on the edge of the forest of Delamere. He was brought up to the plough, but was so ignorant and stupid, that nothing could be made of him. Everybody thought him irretrievably insane, and paid no attention to thestrange, unconnected discourses which he held. Many of his prophecies arebelieved to have been lost in this manner. But they were not alwaysdestined to be wasted upon dull and inattentive ears. An incident occurredwhich brought him into notice, and established his fame as a prophet ofthe first calibre. He was ploughing in a field when he suddenly stoppedfrom his labour, and with a wild look and strange gesture, exclaimed, "_Now, Dick! now, Harry! O, ill done, Dick! O, well done, Harry! Harry hasgained the day!_" His fellow-labourers in the field did not know what tomake of this rhapsody; but the next day cleared up the mystery. News wasbrought by a messenger, in hot haste, that at the very instant when Nixonhad thus ejaculated, Richard III. Had been slain at the battle ofBosworth, and Henry VII. Proclaimed king of England. 

It was not long before the fame of the new prophet reached the ears of theking, who expressed a wish to see and converse with him. A messenger wasaccordingly despatched to bring him to court; but long before he reachedCheshire, Nixon knew and dreaded the honours that awaited him. Indeed itwas said, that at the very instant the king expressed the wish, Nixon was, by supernatural means, made acquainted with it, and that he ran about thetown of Over in great distress of mind, calling out, like a madman, thatHenry had sent for him, and that he must go to court, and be _clammed_, that is, starved to death. These expressions excited no little wonder;but, on the third day, the messenger arrived, and carried him to court, leaving on the minds of the good people of Cheshire an impression thattheir prophet was one of the greatest ever born. On his arrival King Henryappeared to be troubled exceedingly at the loss of a valuable diamond, andasked Nixon if he could inform him where it was to be found. Henry hadhidden the diamond himself, with a view to test the prophet's skill. Great, therefore, was his surprise when Nixon answered him in the words ofthe old proverb, "Those who hide can find. " From that time forth the kingimplicitly believed that he had the gift of prophecy, and ordered all hiswords to be taken down. 

During all the time of his residence at court he was in constant fear ofbeing starved to death, and repeatedly told the king that such would behis fate, if he were not allowed to depart, and return into his owncountry. Henry would not suffer it, but gave strict orders to all hisofficers and cooks to give him as much to eat as he wanted. He lived sowell, that for some time he seemed to be thriving like a nobleman'ssteward, and growing as fat as an alderman. One day the king went outhunting, when Nixon ran to the palace gate, and entreated on his kneesthat he might not be left behind to be starved. The king laughed, andcalling an officer, told him to take especial care of the prophet duringhis absence, and rode away to the forest. After his departure, theservants of the palace began to jeer at and insult Nixon, whom theyimagined to be much better treated than he deserved. Nixon complained tothe officer, who, to prevent him from being further molested, locked himup in the king's own closet, and brought him regularly his four meals aday. But it so happened that a messenger arrived from the king to thisofficer, requiring his immediate presence at Winchester, on a matter oflife and death. So great was his haste to obey the king's command, that hemounted on the horse behind the messenger, and rode off, without bestowinga thought upon poor Nixon. He did not return till three days afterwards, when, remembering the prophet for the first time, he went to the king'scloset, and found him lying upon the floor, starved to death, as he hadpredicted. 

Among the prophecies of his which are believed to have been fulfilled arethe following, which relate to the times of the Pretender:

 "_A great man shall come into England, But the son of a king Shall take from him the victory. _"

 "_Crows shall drink the blood of many nobles, And the North shall rise against the South. _"

 "_The coek of the North shall be made to flee, And his feather be plucked for his pride, That he shall almost curse the day that he was born. _"

All these, say his admirers, are as clear as the sun at noon-day. Thefirst denotes the defeat of Prince Charles Edward, at the battle ofCulloden, by the Duke of Cumberland; the second, the execution of LordsDerwentwater, Balmerino, and Lovat; and the third, the retreat of thePretender from the shores of Britain. Among the prophecies that stillremain to be accomplished are the following:

 "_Between seven, eight, and nine, In England wonders shall be seen; Between nine and thirteen All sorrow shall be done. _"

 "_Through our own money and our men Shall a dreadful war begin. Between the sickle and the suck All England shall have a pluck. _"

"_Foreign nations shall invade England with snow on their helmets, andshall bring plague, famine, and murder in the skirts of their garments. _"

"_The town of Nantwich shall be swept away by a flood. _"

Of the two first of these no explanation has yet been attempted; but someevent or other will doubtless be twisted into such a shape as will fitthem. The third, relative to the invasion of England by a nation with snowon their helmets, is supposed by the old women to foretell most clearly acoming war with Russia. As to the last, there are not a few in the townmentioned who devoutly believe that such will be its fate. Happily fortheir peace of mind, the prophet said nothing of the year that was towitness the awful calamity; so that they think it as likely to be twocenturies hence as now. 

The popular biographers of Nixon conclude their account of him by saying, that "his prophecies are by some persons thought fables; yet by what hascome to pass, it is now thought, and very plainly appears, that most ofthem have proved, or will prove, true; for which we, on all occasions, ought not only to exert our utmost might to repel by force our enemies, but to refrain from our abandoned and wicked course of life, and to makeour continual prayer to God for protection and safety. " To this, though a_non sequitur_, every one will cry, Amen!

Besides the prophets, there have been the almanac-makers Lilly, PoorRobin, Partridge, and Francis Moore physician, in England and MatthewLaensbergh, in France and Belgium. But great as were their pretensions, they were modesty itself in comparison with Merlin, Shipton, and Nixon, who fixed their minds upon higher things than the weather, and were not sorestrained as to prophesy for only one year at a time. After such prophetsthe almanac-makers hardly deserve to be mentioned; not even the renownedPartridge, whose prognostications set all England agog in 1708, and whosedeath while still alive was so pleasantly and satisfactorily proved byIsaac Bickerstaff. The anti-climax would be too palpable, and they andtheir doings must be left uncommemorated. 

[Illustration: MOTHER SHIPTON'S HOUSE. [57]]

 [57] Although other places claim the honour(!) of Mother Shipton's birth, her residence is asserted, by oral tradition, to have been for many years a cottage at Winslow-cum-Shipton, in Buckinghamshire, of which the above is a representation. We give the contents of one of the popular books containing her prophecies:

 _The Strange and Wonderful History and Prophecies of Mother Shipton, plainly setting forth her Birth, Life, Death, and Burial. _ 12mo. Newcastle. Chap. 1. --Of her birth and parentage. 2. How Mother Shipton's mother proved with child; how she fitted the justice, and what happened at her delivery. 3. By what name Mother Shipton was christened, and how her mother went into a monastery. 4. Several other pranks play'd by Mother Shipton in revenge of such as abused her. 5. How Ursula married a young man named Tobias Shipton, and how strangely she discovered a thief. 6. Her prophecy against Cardinal Wolsey. 7. Some other prophecies of Mother Shipton relating to those times. 8. Her prophecies in verse to the Abbot of Beverly. 9. Mother Shipton's life, death, and burial. 

FORTUNE-TELLING. 

 And men still grope t' anticipate The cabinet designs of Fate; Apply to wizards to foresee What shall and what shall never be. _Hudibras_, part iii. Canto 3. 

In accordance with the plan laid down, we proceed to the consideration ofthe follies into which men have been led by their eager desire to piercethe thick darkness of futurity. God himself, for his own wise purposes, has more than once undrawn the impenetrable veil which shrouds those awfulsecrets; and, for purposes just as wise, he has decreed that, except inthese instances, ignorance shall be our lot for ever. It is happy for manthat he does not know what the morrow is to bring forth; but, unaware ofthis great blessing, he has, in all ages of the world, presumptuouslyendeavoured to trace the events of unborn centuries, and anticipate themarch of time. He has reduced this presumption into a study. He hasdivided it into sciences and systems without number, employing his wholelife in the vain pursuit. Upon no subject has it been so easy to deceivethe world as upon this. In every breast the curiosity exists in a greateror less degree, and can only be conquered by a long course ofself-examination, and a firm reliance that the future would not be hiddenfrom our sight, if it were right that we should be acquainted with it. 

An undue opinion of our own importance in the scale of creation is at thebottom of all our unwarrantable notions in this respect. How flattering tothe pride of man to think that the stars in their courses watch over him, and typify, by their movements and aspects, the joys or the sorrows thatawait him! He, less in proportion to the universe than the all-butinvisible insects that feed in myriads on a summer's leaf are to thisgreat globe itself, fondly imagines that eternal worlds were chieflycreated to prognosticate his fate. How we should pity the arrogance of theworm that crawls at our feet, if we knew that it also desired to know thesecrets of futurity, and imagined that meteors shot athwart the sky towarn it that a tom-tit was hovering near to gobble it up; that storms andearthquakes, the revolutions of empires, or the fall of mighty monarchs, only happened to predict its birth, its progress, and its decay! Not awhit less presuming has man shewn himself; not a whit less arrogant arethe sciences, so called, of astrology, augury, necromancy, geomancy, palmistry, and divination of every kind. 

Leaving out of view the oracles of pagan antiquity and religiouspredictions in general, and confining ourselves solely to the persons who, in modern times, have made themselves most conspicuous in foretelling thefuture, we shall find that the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries werethe golden age of these impostors. Many of them have been alreadymentioned in their character of alchymists. The union of the twopretensions is not at all surprising. It was to be expected that those whoassumed a power so preposterous as that of prolonging the life of man forseveral centuries, should pretend, at the same time, to foretell theevents which were to mark that preternatural span of existence. The worldwould as readily believe that they had discovered all secrets, as thatthey had only discovered one. The most celebrated astrologers of Europe, three centuries ago, were alchymists. Agrippa, Paracelsus, Dr. Dee, andthe Rosicrucians, all laid as much stress upon their knowledge of the daysto come, as upon their pretended possession of the philosopher's stone andthe elixir of life. In their time, ideas of the wonderful, the diabolical, and the supernatural, were rifer than ever they were before. The devil orthe stars were universally believed to meddle constantly in the affairs ofmen; and both were to be consulted with proper ceremonies. Those who wereof a melancholy and gloomy temperament betook themselves to necromancy andsorcery; those more cheerful and aspiring devoted themselves to astrology. The latter science was encouraged by all the monarchs and governments ofthat age. In England, from the time of Elizabeth to that of William andMary, judicial astrology was in high repute. During that period flourishedDrs. Dee, Lamb, and Forman; with Lilly, Booker, Gadbury, Evans, and scoresof nameless impostors in every considerable town and village in thecountry, who made it their business to cast nativities, aid in therecovery of stolen goods, prognosticate happy or unhappy marriages, predict whether journeys would be prosperous, and note lucky moments forthe commencement of any enterprise, from the setting up of a cobbler'sshop to the marching of an army. Men who, to use the words of Butler, did

 "Deal in Destiny's dark counsel, And sage opinion of the moon sell; To whom all people far and near On deep importance did repair, When brass and pewter pots did stray, And linen slunk out of the way. "

[Illustration: HENRY ANDREWS, THE ORIGINAL "FRANCIS MOORE. "]

In Lilly's _Memoirs of his Life and Times_, there are many notices of theinferior quacks who then abounded, and upon whom he pretended to look downwith supreme contempt; not because they were astrologers, but because theydebased that noble art by taking fees for the recovery of stolen property. From Butler's _Hudibras_, and its curious notes, we may learn what immensenumbers of these fellows lived upon the credulity of mankind in that ageof witchcraft and diablerie. Even in our day, how great is the reputationenjoyed by the almanac-makers, who assume the name of Francis Moore! Butin the time of Charles I. And the Commonwealth the most learned, the mostnoble, and the most conspicuous characters did not hesitate to consultastrologers in the most open manner. Lilly, whom Butler has immortalisedunder the name of Sydrophel, relates, that he proposed to write a workcalled _An Introduction to Astrology_, in which he would satisfy the wholekingdom of the lawfulness of that art. Many of the soldiers were for it, he says, and many of the Independent party, and abundance of worthy men inthe House of Commons, his assured friends, and able to take his partagainst the Presbyterians, who would have silenced his predictions if theycould. He afterwards carried his plan into execution, and when his bookwas published, went with another astrologer named Booker to theheadquarters of the parliamentary army at Windsor, where they werewelcomed and feasted in the garden where General Fairfax lodged. They wereafterwards introduced to the general, who received them very kindly, andmade allusion to some of their predictions. He hoped their art was lawfuland agreeable to God's word; but he did not understand it himself. He didnot doubt, however, that the two astrologers feared God, and therefore hehad a good opinion of them. Lilly assured him that the art of astrologywas quite consonant to the Scriptures; and confidently predicted from hisknowledge of the stars, that the parliamentary army would overthrow allits enemies. In Oliver's Protectorate, this quack informs us that he wrotefreely enough. He became an Independent, and all the soldiery were hisfriends. When he went to Scotland, he saw a soldier standing in front ofthe army with a book of prophecies in his hand, exclaiming to the severalcompanies as they passed by him, "Lo! hear what Lilly saith: you are inthis month promised victory! Fight it out, brave boys! and then read thatmonth's prediction!"

After the great fire of London, which Lilly said he had foretold, he wassent for by the committee of the House of Commons appointed to inquireinto the causes of the calamity. In his _Monarchy or no Monarchy_, published in 1651, he had inserted an hieroglyphical plate representing onone side persons in winding-sheets digging graves; and on the other alarge city in flames. After the great fire, some sapient member of thelegislature bethought him of Lilly's book, and having mentioned it in thehouse, it was agreed that the astrologer should be summoned. Lillyattended accordingly, when Sir Robert Brook told him the reason of hissummons, and called upon him to declare what he knew. This was a rareopportunity for the vainglorious Lilly to vaunt his abilities; and hebegan a long speech in praise of himself and his pretended science. Hesaid that, after the execution of Charles I. , he was extremely desirous toknow what might from that time forth happen to the parliament and to thenation in general. He therefore consulted the stars, and satisfiedhimself. The result of his judgment he put into emblems and hieroglyphics, without any commentary, so that the true meaning might be concealed fromthe vulgar, and made manifest only to the wise; imitating in this theexample of many wise philosophers who had done the like. 

"Did you foresee the year of the fire?" said a member. "No, " quoth Lilly, "nor was I desirous. Of that I made no scrutiny. " After some furtherparley, the house found they could make nothing of the astrologer, anddismissed him with great civility. 

One specimen of the explanation of a prophecy given by Lilly, and relatedby him with much complacency, will be sufficient to shew the sort of trashby which he imposed upon the million. "In the year 1588, " says he, "therewas a prophecy printed in Greek characters, exactly deciphering the longtroubles of the English nation from 1641 to 1660. " And it ended thus: "Andafter him shall come a dreadful dead man, and with him a royal G, of thebest blood in the world; and he shall have the crown, and shall setEngland on the right way, and put out all heresies. " The following is theexplanation of this oracular absurdity:

"_Monkery being extinguished above eighty or ninety years, and the LordGeneral's name being Monk, is the dead man. The royal G or C [it is gammain the Greek, intending C in the Latin, being the third letter in thealphabet] is Charles II. , who for his extraction may be said to be of thebest blood of the world. _"

In France and Germany astrologers met even more encouragement than theyreceived in England. In very early ages Charlemagne and his successorsfulminated their wrath against them in common with sorcerers. Louis XI. , that most superstitious of men, entertained great numbers of them at hiscourt; and Catherine de Medicis, that most superstitious of women, hardlyever undertook any affair of importance without consulting them. Shechiefly favoured her own countrymen; and during the time she governedFrance, the land was overrun by Italian conjurors, necromancers, andfortune-tellers of every kind. But the chief astrologer of that day, beyond all doubt, was the celebrated Nostradamus, physician to herhusband, King Henry II. He was born in 1503 at the town of St. Remi, inProvence, where his father was a notary. He did not acquire much fame tillhe was past his fiftieth year, when his famous _Centuries_, a collectionof verses, written in obscure and almost unintelligible language, began toexcite attention. They were so much spoken of in 1556, that Henry II. Resolved to attach so skilful a man to his service, and appointed him hisphysician. In a biographical notice of him, prefixed to the edition of his_Vraies Centuries_, published at Amsterdam in 1668, we are informed thathe often discoursed with his royal master on the secrets of futurity, andreceived many great presents as his reward, besides his usual allowancefor medical attendance. After the death of Henry he retired to his nativeplace, where Charles IX. Paid him a visit in 1564; and was so impressedwith veneration for his wondrous knowledge of the things that were to be, not in France only, but in the whole world for hundreds of years to come, that he made him a counsellor of state and his own physician, besidestreating him in other matters with a royal liberality. "In fine, "continues his biographer, "I should be too prolix were I to tell all thehonours conferred upon him, and all the great nobles and learned men thatarrived at his house from the very ends of the earth, to see and conversewith him as if he had been an oracle. Many strangers, in fact, came toFrance for no other purpose than to consult him. "

[Illustration: NOSTRADAMUS. --FROM THE FRONTISPIECE TO A COLLECTION OF HISPROPHECIES, PUBLISHED AT AMSTERDAM, A. D. 1666. ]

The prophecies of Nostradamus consist of upwards of a thousand stanzas, each of four lines, and are to the full as obscure as the oracles of old. They take so great a latitude, both as to time and space, that they arealmost sure to be fulfilled somewhere or other in the course of a fewcenturies. A little ingenuity, like that evinced by Lilly in hisexplanation about General Monk and the dreadful dead man, might easilymake events to fit some of them. [58]

 [58] Let us try. In his second century, prediction 66, he says:

 "From great dangers the captive is escaped. A little time, great fortune changed. In the palace the people are caught. By good augury the city is besieged. "

 "What is this, " a believer might exclaim, "but the escape of Napoleon from Elba--his changed fortune, and the occupation of Paris by the allied armies?"

 Let us try again. In his third century, prediction 98, he says:

 "Two royal brothers will make fierce war on each other; So mortal shall be the strife between them, That each one shall occupy a fort against the other; For their reign and life shall be the quarrel. "

 Some Lillius Redivivus would find no difficulty in this prediction. To use a vulgar phrase, it is as clear as a pikestaff. Had not the astrologer in view Don Miguel and Don Pedro when he penned this stanza, so much less obscure and oracular than the rest?

He is to this day extremely popular in France and the Walloon country ofBelgium, where old farmer-wives consult him with great confidence andassiduity. 

Catherine di Medicis was not the only member of her illustrious house whoentertained astrologers. At the beginning of the fifteenth century therewas a man, named Basil, residing in Florence, who was noted over all Italyfor his skill in piercing the darkness of futurity. It is said that heforetold to Cosmo di Medicis, then a private citizen, that he would attainhigh dignity, inasmuch as the ascendant of his nativity was adorned withthe same propitious aspects as those of Augustus Cæsar and the EmperorCharles V. [59] Another astrologer foretold the death of Prince Alexanderdi Medicis; and so very minute and particular was he in all thecircumstances, that he was suspected of being chiefly instrumental infulfilling his own prophecy--a very common resource with these fellows tokeep up their credit. He foretold confidently that the prince should dieby the hand of his own familiar friend, a person of a slender habit ofbody, a small face, a swarthy complexion, and of most remarkabletaciturnity. So it afterwards happened, Alexander having been murdered inhis chamber by his cousin Lorenzo, who corresponded exactly with the abovedescription. [60] The author of _Hermippus Redivivus_, in relating thisstory, inclines to the belief that the astrologer was guiltless of anyparticipation in the crime, but was employed by some friend of PrinceAlexander to warn him of his danger. 

 [59] _Hermippus Redivivus_, p. 142. 

 [60] _Jovii Elog. _ p. 320. 

A much more remarkable story is told of an astrologer who lived in Romagnain the fifteenth century, and whose name was Antiochus Tibertus. [61] Atthat time nearly all the petty sovereigns of Italy retained such men intheir service; and Tibertus, having studied the mathematics with greatsuccess at Paris, and delivered many predictions, some of which, forguesses, were not deficient in shrewdness, was taken into the household ofPandolfo di Malatesta, the sovereign of Rimini. His reputation was sogreat, that his study was continually thronged either with visitors whowere persons of distinction, or with clients who came to him for advice;and in a short time he acquired a considerable fortune. Notwithstandingall these advantages, he passed his life miserably, and ended it on thescaffold. The following story afterwards got into circulation, and hasbeen often triumphantly cited by succeeding astrologers as an irrefragableproof of the truth of their science. It was said that, long before hedied, he uttered three remarkable prophecies--one relating to himself, another to his friend, and the third to his patron, Pandolfo di Malatesta. The first delivered was that relating to his friend Guido di Bogni, one ofthe greatest captains of the time. Guido was exceedingly desirous to knowhis fortune, and so importuned Tibertus, that the latter consulted thestars and the lines on his palm to satisfy him. He afterwards told himwith a sorrowful face, that, according to all the rules of astrology andpalmistry, he should be falsely suspected by his best friend, and shouldlose his life in consequence. Guido then asked the astrologer if he couldforetell his own fate; upon which Tibertus again consulted the stars, andfound that it was decreed from all eternity that he should end his days onthe scaffold. Malatesta, when he heard these predictions, so unlikely, toall present appearance, to prove true, desired his astrologer to predicthis fate also, and to hide nothing from him, however unfavourable it mightbe. Tibertus complied, and told his patron, at that time one of the mostflourishing and powerful princes of Italy, that he should suffer greatwant, and die at last like a beggar in the common hospital of Bologna. Andso it happened in all three cases. Guido di Bogni was accused by his ownfather-in-law, the Count di Bentivoglio, of a treasonable design todeliver up the city of Rimini to the papal forces, and was assassinatedafterwards, by order of the tyrant Malatesta, as he sat at thesupper-table, to which he had been invited in all apparent friendship. Theastrologer was at the same time thrown into prison, as being concerned inthe treason of his friend. He attempted to escape, and had succeeded inletting himself down from his dungeon-window into a moat, when he wasdiscovered by the sentinels. This being reported to Malatesta, he gaveorders for his execution on the following morning. 

 [61] _Les Anecdotes de Florence, ou l'Histoire secrète de la Maison di Medicis_, p. 318. 

Malatesta had, at this time, no remembrance of the prophecy; and his ownfate gave him no uneasiness; but events were silently working itsfulfilment. A conspiracy had been formed, though Guido di Bogni wasinnocent of it, to deliver up Rimini to the pope; and all the necessarymeasures having been taken, the city was seized by the Count deValentinois. In the confusion, Malatesta had barely time to escape fromhis palace in disguise. He was pursued from place to place by his enemies, abandoned by all his former friends, and, finally, by his own children. Heat last fell ill of a languishing disease, at Bologna; and, nobody caringto afford him shelter, he was carried to the hospital, where he died. Theonly thing that detracts from the interest of this remarkable story is thefact, that the prophecy was made after the event. 

For some weeks before the birth of Louis XIV. , an astrologer from Germany, who had been sent for by the Marshal de Bassompierre and other noblemen ofthe court, had taken up his residence in the palace, to be ready, at amoment's notice, to draw the horoscope of the future sovereign of France. When the queen was taken in labour, he was ushered into a contiguousapartment, that he might receive notice of the very instant the child wasborn. The result of his observations were the three words, _diu, durè, feliciter_; meaning, that the new-born prince should live and reign long, with much labour, and with great glory. No prediction less favourablecould have been expected from an astrologer, who had his bread to get, andwho was at the same time a courtier. A medal was afterwards struck incommemoration of the event; upon one side of which was figured thenativity of the prince, representing him as driving the chariot of Apollo, with the inscription "Ortus solis Gallici, "--the rising of the Gallic sun. 

The best excuse ever made for astrology was that offered by the greatastronomer, Kepler, himself an unwilling practiser of the art. 

He had many applications from his friends to cast nativities for them, andgenerally gave a positive refusal to such as he was not afraid ofoffending by his frankness. In other cases he accommodated himself to theprevailing delusion. In sending a copy of his _Ephemerides_ to ProfessorGerlach, he wrote, that _they were nothing but worthless conjectures_; buthe was obliged to devote himself to them, or he would have starved. "Yeoverwise philosophers, " he exclaimed, in his _Tertius Interveniens_; "yecensure this daughter of astronomy beyond her deserts! _Know ye not thatshe must support her mother by her charms?_ The scanty reward of anastronomer would not provide him with bread, if men did not entertainhopes of reading the future in the heavens. "

NECROMANCY was, next to astrology, the pretended science most resorted to, by those who wished to pry into the future. The earliest instance uponrecord is that of the witch of Endor and the spirit of Samuel. Nearly allthe nations of antiquity believed in the possibility of summoning departedghosts to disclose the awful secrets that God made clear to thedisembodied. Many passages in allusion to this subject will at oncesuggest themselves to the classical reader; but this art was never carriedon openly in any country. All governments looked upon it as a crime of thedeepest dye. While astrology was encouraged, and its professors courtedand rewarded, necromancers were universally condemned to the stake or thegallows. Roger Bacon, Albertus Magnus, Arnold of Villeneuve, and manyothers, were accused by the public opinion of many centuries, of meddlingin these unhallowed matters. So deep-rooted has always been the populardelusion with respect to accusations of this kind, that no crime was everdisproved with such toil and difficulty. That it met great encouragement, nevertheless, is evident from the vast numbers of pretenders to it; who, in spite of the danger, have existed in all ages and countries. 

GEOMANCY, or the art of foretelling the future by means of lines andcircles, and other mathematical figures drawn on the earth, is stillextensively practised in Asiatic countries, but is almost unknown inEurope. 

AUGURY, from the flight or entrails of birds, so favourite a study amongthe Romans, is, in like manner, exploded in Europe. Its most assiduousprofessors, at the present day, are the abominable Thugs of India. 

DIVINATION, of which there are many kinds, boasts a more enduringreputation. It has held an empire over the minds of men from the earliestperiods of recorded history, and is, in all probability, coeval with timeitself. It was practised alike by the Jews, the Egyptians, the Chaldeans, the Persians, the Greeks, and the Romans; is equally known to all modernnations, in every part of the world; and is not unfamiliar to theuntutored tribes that roam in the wilds of Africa and America. Divination, as practised in civilised Europe at the present day, is chiefly fromcards, the tea-cup, and the lines on the palm of the hand. Gipsies alonemake a profession of it; but there are thousands and tens of thousands ofhumble families in which the good-wife, and even the good-man, resort tothe grounds at the bottom of their tea-cups, to know whether the nextharvest will be abundant, or their sow bring forth a numerous litter; andin which the young maidens look to the same place to know when they are tobe married, and whether the man of their choice is to be dark or fair, rich or poor, kind or cruel. Divination by cards, so great a favouriteamong the moderns, is, of course, a modern science; as cards do not yetboast an antiquity of much more than four hundred years. Divination by thepalm, so confidently believed in by half the village lasses in Europe, isof older date, and seems to have been known to the Egyptians in the timeof the patriarchs; as well as divination by the cup, which, as we areinformed in Genesis, was practised by Joseph. Divination by the rod wasalso practised by the Egyptians. In comparatively recent times, it waspretended that by this means hidden treasures could be discovered. It nowappears to be altogether exploded in Europe. Onomancy, or the foretellinga man's fate by the letters of his name, and the various transpositions ofwhich they are capable, is a more modern sort of divination; but itreckons comparatively few believers. 

The following list of the various species of divination formerly in use, is given by Gaule in his _Magastromancer_, and quoted in Hone's_Year-Book_, p. 1517. 

 _Stereomancy_, or divining by the elements. _Aeromancy_, or divining by the air. _Pyromancy_, by fire, _Hydromancy_, by water. _Geomancy_, by earth. _Theomancy_, pretending to divine by the revelation of the Spirit, and by the Scriptures, or word of God. _Demonomancy_, by the aid of devils and evil spirits. _Idolomancy_, by idols, images, and figures. _Psychomancy_, by the soul, affections, or dispositions of men. _Anthropomancy_, by the entrails of human beings. _Theriomancy_, by beasts. _Ornithomancy_, by birds. _Ichthyomancy_, by fishes. _Botanomancy_, by herbs. _Lithomancy_, by stones. _Kleromancy_, by lots. _Oneiromancy_, by dreams. _Onomancy_, by names. _Arithmancy_, by numbers. _Logarithmancy_, by logarithms. _Sternomancy_, by the marks from the breast to the belly. _Gastromancy_, by the sound of, or marks upon the belly. _Omphalomancy_, by the navel. _Chiromancy_, by the hands. _Podomancy_, by the feet. _Onchyomancy_, by the nails. _Cephaleonomancy_, by asses' heads. _Tephromancy_, by ashes. _Kapnomancy_, by smoke. _Knissomancy_, by the burning of incense. _Ceromancy_, by the melting of wax. _Lecanomancy_, by basins of water. _Katoptromancy_, by looking-glasses. _Chartomancy_, by writing in papers, and by Valentines. _Macharomancy_, by knives and swords. _Crystallomancy_, by crystals. _Dactylomancy_, by rings. _Koskinomancy_, by sieves. _Axinomancy_, by saws. _Chalmmancy_, by vessels of brass, or other metal. _Spatilomancy_, by skins, bones, &c. _Astromancy_, by stars. _Sciomancy_, by shadows. _Astragalomancy_, by dice. _Oinomancy_, by the lees of wine. _Sycomancy_, by figs. _Tyromancy_, by cheese. _Alphitomancy_, by meal, flour, or bran. _Krithomancy_, by corn or grain. _Alectromancy_, by cocks. _Gyromancy_, by circles. _Lampadomancy_, by candles and lamps. 

ONEIRO-CRITICISM, or the art of interpreting dreams, is a relic of themost remote ages, which has subsisted through all the changes that moralor physical revolutions have operated in the world. The records of fivethousand years bear abundant testimony to the universal diffusion of thebelief, that the skilful could read the future in dreams. The rules of theart, if any existed in ancient times, are not known; but in our day, onesimple rule opens the whole secret. Dreams, say all the wiseacres inChristendom, are to be interpreted by contraries. Thus, if you dream offilth, you will acquire something valuable; if you dream of the dead, youwill hear news of the living; if you dream of gold and silver, you run arisk of being without either; and if you dream you have many friends, youwill be persecuted by many enemies. The rule, however, does not hold goodin all cases. It is fortunate to dream of little pigs, but unfortunate todream of big bullocks. If you dream you have lost a tooth, you may be surethat you will shortly lose a friend; and if you dream that your house ison fire, you will receive news from a far country. If you dream of vermin, it is a sign that there will be sickness in your family; and if you dreamof serpents, you will have friends who, in the course of time, will proveyour bitterest enemies; but, of all dreams, it is most fortunate if youdream that you are wallowing up to your neck in mud and mire. Clear wateris a sign of grief; and great troubles, distress, and perplexity arepredicted, if you dream that you stand naked in the public streets, andknow not where to find a garment to shield you from the gaze of themultitude. 

In many parts of Great Britain, and the continents of Europe and America, there are to be found elderly women in the villages and country-placeswhose interpretations of dreams are looked upon with as much reverence asif they were oracles. In districts remote from towns it is not uncommon tofind the members of a family regularly every morning narrating theirdreams at the breakfast-table, and becoming happy or miserable for the dayaccording to their interpretation. There is not a flower that blossoms, orfruit that ripens, that, dreamed of, is not ominous of either good or evilto such people. Every tree of the field or the forest is endowed with asimilar influence over the fate of mortals, if seen in the night-visions. To dream of the ash, is the sign of a long journey; and of an oak, prognosticates long life and prosperity. To dream you stript the bark offany tree, is a sign to a maiden of an approaching loss of a character; toa married woman, of a family bereavement; and to a man, of an accession offortune. To dream of a leafless tree, is a sign of great sorrow; and of abranchless trunk, a sign of despair and suicide. The elder-tree is moreauspicious to the sleeper; while the fir-tree, better still, betokens allmanner of comfort and prosperity. The lime-tree predicts a voyage acrossthe ocean; while the yew and the alder are ominous of sickness to theyoung and of death to the old. [62] Among the flowers and fruits chargedwith messages for the future, the following is a list of the mostimportant, arranged from approved sources, in alphabetical order:

 _Asparagus_, gathered and tied up in bundles, is an omen of tears. If you see it growing in your dreams, it is a sign of good fortune. 

 _Aloes_, without a flower, betokens long life; in flower, betokens a legacy. 

 _Artichokes_. This vegetable is a sign that you will receive, in a short time, a favour from the hands of those from whom you would least expect it. 

 _Agrimony_. This herb denotes that there will be sickness in your house. 

 _Anemone_ predicts love. 

 _Auriculas_, in beds, denote luck; in pots, marriage; while to gather them, foretells widowhood. 

 _Bilberries_ predict a pleasant excursion. 

 _Broom-flowers_ an increase of family. 

 _Cauliflowers_ predict that all your friends will slight you, or that you will fall into poverty and find no one to pity you. 

 _Dock-leaves_, a present from the country. 

 _Daffodils_. Any maiden who dreams of daffodils is warned by her good angel to avoid going into a wood with her lover, or into any dark or retired place where she might not be able to make people hear her if she cried out. Alas for her if she pay no attention to the warning!

 "Never again shall she put garland on; Instead of it she'll wear sad cypress now, And bitter elder broken from the bough. "

 _Figs_, if green, betoken embarrassment; if dried, money to the poor, and mirth to the rich. 

 _Hearts-ease_ betokens heart's pain. 

 _Lilies_ predict joy; _water-lilies_, danger from the sea. 

 _Lemons_ betoken a separation. 

 _Pomegranates_ predict happy wedlock to those who are single, and reconciliation to those who are married and have disagreed. 

 _Quinces_ prognosticate pleasant company. 

 _Roses_ denote happy love, not unmixed with sorrow from other sources. 

 _Sorrel_. To dream of this herb is a sign that you will shortly have occasion to exert all your prudence to overcome some great calamity. 

 _Sunflowers_ shew that your pride will be deeply wounded. 

 _Violets_ predict evil to the single, and joy to the married. 

 _Yellow-flowers_ of any kind predict jealousy. 

 _Yew-berries_ predict loss of character to both sexes. 

 [62] It is quite astonishing to see the great demand there is, both in England and France, for dream-books, and other trash of the same kind. Two books in England enjoy an extraordinary popularity, and have run through upwards of fifty editions in as many years in London alone, besides being reprinted in Manchester, Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Dublin. One is _Mother Bridget's Dream-book and Oracle of Fate_; the other is the _Norwood Gipsy_. It is stated, on the authority of one who is curious in these matters, that there is a demand for these works, which are sold at sums varying from a penny to sixpence, chiefly to servant-girls and imperfectly-educated people, all over the country, of upwards of eleven thousand annually; and that at no period during the last thirty years has the average number sold been less than this. The total number during this period would thus amount to 330, 000. 

It should be observed that the rules for the interpretation of dreams arefar from being universal. The cheeks of the peasant girl of England glowwith pleasure in the morning after she has dreamed of a rose, while the_paysanne_ of Normandy dreads disappointment and vexation for the verysame reason. The Switzer who dreams of an oak-tree does not share in theEnglishman's joy; for he imagines that the vision was a warning to himthat, from some trifling cause, an overwhelming calamity will burst overhim. Thus do the ignorant and the credulous torment themselves; thus dothey spread their nets to catch vexation, and pass their lives betweenhopes which are of no value and fears which are a positive evil. 

OMENS. Among the other means of self-annoyance upon which men havestumbled, in their vain hope of discovering the future, signs and omenshold a conspicuous place. There is scarcely an occurrence in nature which, happening at a certain time, is not looked upon by some persons as aprognosticator either of good or evil. The latter are in the greatestnumber, so much more ingenious are we in tormenting ourselves than indiscovering reasons for enjoyment in the things that surround us. We goout of our course to make ourselves uncomfortable; the cup of life is notbitter enough to our palate, and we distil superfluous poison to put intoit, or conjure up hideous things to frighten ourselves at, which wouldnever exist if we did not make them. "We suffer, " says Addison, [63] "asmuch from trifling accidents as from real evils. I have known the shootingof a star spoil a night's rest, and have seen a man in love grow pale andlose his appetite upon the plucking of a merrythought. A screech-owl atmidnight has alarmed a family more than a band of robbers; nay, the voiceof a cricket has struck more terror than the roaring of a lion. There isnothing so inconsiderable which may not appear dreadful to an imaginationthat is filled with omens and prognostics. A rusty nail or a crooked pinshoot up into prodigies. "

 [63] _Spectator_, No. 7, March 8, 1710-11. 

The century and a quarter that has passed away since Addison wrote hasseen the fall of many errors. Many fallacies and delusions have beencrushed under the foot of Time since then; but this has been leftunscathed, to frighten the weak-minded and embitter their existence. Abelief in omens is not confined to the humble and uninformed. A generalwho led an army with credit has been known to feel alarmed at awinding-sheet in the candle; and learned men, who had honourably andfairly earned the highest honours of literature, have been seen to gathertheir little ones around them, and fear that one would be snatched away, because, "When stole upon the time the dead of night, And heavy sleep had closed up mortal eyes, "

a dog in the street was howling at the moon. Persons who would acknowledgefreely that the belief in omens was unworthy of a man of sense, have yetconfessed at the same time that, in spite of their reason, they have beenunable to conquer their fears of death when they heard the harmless insectcalled the death-watch ticking in the wall, or saw an oblong hollow coalfly out of the fire. 

Many other evil omens besides those mentioned above alarm the vulgar andthe weak. If a sudden shivering comes over such people, they believe that, at that instant, an enemy is treading over the spot that will one day betheir grave. If they meet a sow when they first walk abroad in themorning, it is an omen of evil for that day. To meet an ass, is in likemanner unlucky. It is also very unfortunate to walk under a ladder; toforget to eat goose on the festival of St. Michael; to tread upon abeetle, or to eat the twin nuts that are sometimes found in one shell. Woe, in like manner, is predicted to that wight who inadvertently upsetsthe salt; each grain that is overthrown will bring to him a day of sorrow. If thirteen persons sit at table, one of them will die within the year;and all of them will be unhappy. Of all evil omens this is the worst. Thefacetious Dr. Kitchener used to observe that there was one case in whichhe believed that it was really unlucky for thirteen persons to sit down todinner, and that was when there was only dinner enough for twelve. Unfortunately for their peace of mind, the great majority of people do nottake this wise view of the matter. In almost every country of Europe thesame superstition prevails, and some carry it so far as to look upon thenumber thirteen as in every way ominous of evil; and if they find thirteencoins in their purse, cast away the odd one like a polluted thing. Thephilosophic Beranger, in his exquisite song, _Thirteen at Table_, hastaken a poetical view of this humiliating superstition, and mingled, as ishis wont, a lesson of genuine wisdom in his lay. Being at dinner, heoverthrows the salt, and, looking round the room, discovers that he is thethirteenth guest. While he is mourning his unhappy fate, and conjuring upvisions of disease and suffering and the grave, he is suddenly startled bythe apparition of Death herself, not in the shape of a grim foe, withskeleton-ribs and menacing dart, but of an angel of light, who shews thefolly of tormenting ourselves with the dread of her approach, when she isthe friend, rather than the enemy, of man, and frees us from the fetterswhich bind us to the dust. 

If men could bring themselves to look upon death in this manner, livingwell and wisely till her inevitable approach, how vast a store of griefand vexation would they spare themselves!

Among good omens, one of the most conspicuous is to meet a piebald horse. To meet two of these animals is still more fortunate; and if on such anoccasion you spit thrice, and form any reasonable wish, it will begratified within three days. It is also a sign of good fortune if youinadvertently put on your stocking wrong side out. If you wilfully wearyour stocking in this fashion, no good will come of it. It is very luckyto sneeze twice; but if you sneeze a third time, the omen loses its power, and your good fortune will be nipped in the bud. If a strange dog followyou, and fawn on you, and wish to attach itself to you, it is a sign ofvery great prosperity. Just as fortunate is it if a strange male cat comesto your house and manifests friendly intentions towards your family. If ashe cat, it is an omen, on the contrary, of very great misfortune. If aswarm of bees alight in your garden, some very high honour and great joysawait you. 

Besides these glimpses of the future, you may know something of your fateby a diligent attention to every itching that you may feel in your body. Thus, if the eye or the nose itches, it is a sign you will be shortlyvexed; if the foot itches, you will tread upon strange ground; and if theelbow itches, you will change your bedfellow. Itching of the right handprognosticates that you will soon have a sum of money; and, of the left, that you will be called upon to disburse it. 

These are but a few of the omens which are generally credited in modernEurope. A complete list of them would fatigue from its length, and sickenfrom its absurdity. It would be still more unprofitable to attempt tospecify the various delusions of the same kind which are believed amongoriental nations. Every reader will remember the comprehensive formula ofcursing preserved in _Tristram Shandy_--curse a man after any fashion youremember or can invent, you will be sure to find it there. The orientalcreed of omens is not less comprehensive. Every movement of the body, every emotion of the mind, is at certain times an omen. Every form andobject in nature, even the shape of the clouds and the changes of theweather; every colour, every sound, whether of men or animals, or birds orinsects, or inanimate things, is an omen. Nothing is too trifling orinconsiderable to inspire a hope which is not worth cherishing, or a fearwhich is sufficient to embitter existence. 

From the belief in omens springs the superstition that has, from veryearly ages, set apart certain days, as more favourable than others, forprying into the secrets of futurity. The following, copied verbatim fromthe popular _Dream and Omen Book_ of Mother Bridget, will shew the beliefof the people of England at the present day. Those who are curious as tothe ancient history of these observances, will find abundant aliment inthe _Every-day Book_. 

"_The 1st of January. _--If a young maiden drink, on going to bed, a pintof cold spring water, in which is beat up an amulet, composed of the yolkof a pullet's egg, the legs of a spider, and the skin of an eel pounded, her future destiny will be revealed to her in a dream. This charm fails ofits effect if tried any other day of the year. 

"_Valentine Day. _--Let a single woman go out of her own door very early inthe morning, and if the first person she meets be a woman, she will not bemarried that year; if she meet a man she will be married within threemonths. 

"_Lady Day. _--The following charm may be tried this day with certainsuccess: String thirty-one nuts on a string, composed of red worsted mixedwith blue silk, and tie it round your neck on going to bed, repeatingthese lines:

 "Oh, I wish! oh, I wish to see Who my true love is to be!

Shortly after midnight, you will see your lover in a dream, and beinformed at the same time of all the principal events of your future life. 

"_St. Swithin's Eve. _--Select three things you most wish to know; writethem down with a new pen and red ink on a sheet of fine wove paper, fromwhich you must previously cut off all the corners and burn them. Fold thepaper into a true lover's knot, and wrap round it three hairs from yourhead. Place the paper under your pillow for three successive nights, andyour curiosity to know the future will be satisfied. 

"_St. Mark's Eve. _--Repair to the nearest churchyard as the clock strikestwelve, and take from a grave on the south side of the church three tuftsof grass (the longer and ranker the better), and on going to bed placethem under your pillow, repeating earnestly three several times, 'The Eve of St. Mark by prediction is blest, Set therefore my hopes and my fears all to rest: Let me know my fate, whether weal or woe; Whether my rank's to be high or low; Whether to live single, or be a bride, And the destiny my star doth provide. '

Should you have no dream that night, you will be single and miserable allyour life. If you dream of thunder and lightning, your life will be one ofgreat difficulty and sorrow. 

"_Candlemas Eve. _--On this night (which is the purification of the VirginMary), let three, five, seven, or nine young maidens assemble together ina square chamber. Hang in each corner a bundle of sweet herbs, mixed withrue and rosemary. Then mix a cake of flour, olive-oil, and white sugar;every maiden having an equal share in the making and the expense of it. Afterwards it must be cut into equal pieces, each one marking the piece asshe cuts it with the initials of her name. It is then to be baked one hourbefore the fire, not a word being spoken the whole time, and the maidenssitting with their arms and knees across. Each piece of cake is then to bewrapped up in a sheet of paper, on which each maiden shall write the lovepart of Solomon's Songs. If she put this under her pillow she will dreamtrue. She will see her future husband and every one of her children, andwill know besides whether her family will be poor or prosperous, a comfortto her or the contrary. 

"_Midsummer. _--Take three roses, smoke them with sulphur, and exactly atthree in the day bury one of the roses under a yew-tree; the second in anewly-made grave, and put the third under your pillow for three nights, and at the end of that period burn it in a fire of charcoal. Your dreamsduring that time will be prophetic of your future destiny, and, what isstill more curious and valuable, says Mother Bridget, the man whom you areto wed will enjoy no peace till he comes and visits you. Besides this, youwill perpetually haunt his dreams. 

"_St. John's Eve. _--Make a new pincushion of the very best black velvet(no inferior quality will answer the purpose), and on one side stick yourname at full length with the very smallest pins that can be bought (noneother will do). On the other side make a cross with some very large pins, and surround it with a circle. Put this into your stocking when you takeit off at night, and hang it up at the foot of the bed. All your futurelife will pass before you in a dream. 

"_First New Moon of the year. _--On the first new moon in the year take apint of clear spring water, and infuse into it the _white_ of an egg laidby a _white_ hen, a glass of _white_ wine, three almonds peeled _white_, and a tablespoonful of _white_ rose-water. Drink this on going to bed, notmaking more nor less than three draughts of it; repeating the followingverses three several times in a clear distinct voice, but not so loud asto be overheard by any body:

 'If I dream of water pure Before the coming morn, 'Tis a sign I shall be poor, And unto wealth not born. If I dream of tasting beer, Middling then will be my cheer-- Chequer'd with the good and bad, Sometimes joyful, sometimes sad; But should I dream of drinking wine, Wealth and pleasure will be mine. The stronger the drink, the better the cheer-- Dreams of my destiny, appear, appear!'

"_Twenty-ninth of February. _--This day, as it only occurs once in fouryears, is peculiarly auspicious to those who desire to have a glance atfuturity, especially to young maidens burning with anxiety to know theappearance and complexion of their future lords. The charm to be adoptedis the following: Stick twenty-seven of the smallest pins that are made, three by three, into a tallow candle. Light it up at the wrong end, andthen place it in a candlestick made out of clay, which must be drawn froma virgin's grave. Place this on the chimney-place, in the left-handcorner, exactly as the clock strikes twelve, and go to bed immediately. When the candle is burnt out, take the pins and put them into your leftshoe; and before nine nights have elapsed your fate will be revealed toyou. "

We have now taken a hasty review of the various modes of seeking todiscover the future, especially as practised in modern times. The mainfeatures of the folly appear essentially the same in all countries. National character and peculiarities operate some difference ofinterpretation. The mountaineer makes the natural phenomena which he mostfrequently witnesses prognosticative of the future. The dweller in theplains, in a similar manner, seeks to know his fate among the signs of thethings that surround him, and tints his superstition with the hues of hisown clime. The same spirit animates them all--the same desire to know thatwhich Infinite Mercy has concealed. There is but little probability thatthe curiosity of mankind in this respect will ever be wholly eradicated. Death and ill fortune are continual bugbears to the weak-minded, theirreligious, and the ignorant; and while such exist in the world, divineswill preach upon its impiety and philosophers discourse upon its absurdityin vain. Still it is evident that these follies have greatly diminished. Soothsayers and prophets have lost the credit they formerly enjoyed, andskulk in secret now where they once shewed their faces in the blaze ofday. So far there is manifest improvement. 

THE MAGNETISERS. 

 Some deemed them wondrous wise, and some believed them mad. _Beattie's Minstrel_. 

[Illustration: T]

The wonderful influence of imagination in the cure of diseases is wellknown. A motion of the hand, or a glance of the eye, will throw a weak andcredulous patient into a fit; and a pill made of bread, if taken withsufficient faith, will operate a cure better than all the drugs in thepharmacopoeia. The Prince of Orange, at the siege of Breda, in 1625, curedall his soldiers, who were dying of the scurvy, by a philanthropic pieceof quackery, which he played upon them with the knowledge of thephysicians, when all other means had failed. [64] Many hundreds ofinstances, of a similar kind, might be related, especially from thehistory of witchcraft. The mummeries, strange gesticulations, andbarbarous jargon of witches and sorcerers, which frightened credulous andnervous women, brought on all those symptoms of hysteria and other similardiseases, so well understood now, but which were then supposed to be thework of the Devil, not only by the victims and the public in general, butby the operators themselves. 

 [64] See Van der Mye's account of the siege of Breda. The garrison, being afflicted with scurvy, the Prince of Orange sent the physicians two or three small phials, containing a decoction of camomile, wormwood, and camphor, telling them to pretend that it was a medicine of the greatest value and extremest rarity, which had been procured with very much danger and difficulty from the East; and so strong, that two or three drops would impart a healing virtue to a gallon of water. The soldiers had faith in their commander; they took the medicine with cheerful faces, and grew well rapidly. They afterwards thronged about the prince in groups of twenty and thirty at a time, praising his skill, and loading him with protestations of gratitude. 

In the age when alchymy began to fall into some disrepute, and learning tolift up its voice against it, a new delusion, based upon thispower of imagination, suddenly arose, and found apostles among all thealchymists. Numbers of them, forsaking their old pursuits, made themselvesmagnetisers. It appeared first in the shape of mineral, and afterwards ofanimal, magnetism, under which latter name it survives to this day, andnumbers its dupes by thousands. 

The mineral magnetisers claim the first notice, as the worthy predecessorsof the quacks of the present day. The honour claimed for Paracelsus, ofbeing the first of the Rosicrucians, has been disputed; but his claim tobe considered the first of the magnetisers can scarcely be challenged. Ithas been already mentioned of him, in the part of this work which treatsof alchymy, that, like nearly all the distinguished adepts, he was aphysician; and pretended, not only to make gold and confer immortality, but to cure all diseases. He was the first who, with the latter view, attributed occult and miraculous powers to the magnet. Animated apparentlyby a sincere conviction that the magnet was the philosopher's stone, which, if it could not transmute metals, could soothe all human sufferingand arrest the progress of decay, he travelled for many years in Persiaand Arabia, in search of the mountain of adamant, so famed in orientalfables. When he practised as a physician at Basle, he called one of hisnostrums by the name of azoth--a stone or crystal, which, he said, contained magnetic properties, and cured epilepsy, hysteria, and spasmodicaffections. He soon found imitators. His fame spread far and near; andthus were sown the first seeds of that error which has since taken rootand flourished so widely. In spite of the denial of modern practitioners, this must be considered the origin of magnetism; for we find that, beginning with Paracelsus, there was a regular succession of mineralmagnetisers until Mesmer appeared, and gave a new feature to the delusion. 

Paracelsus boasted of being able to _transplant_ diseases from the humanframe into the earth, by means of the magnet. He said there were six waysby which this might be effected. One of them will be quite sufficient as aspecimen. "If a person suffer from disease, either local or general, letthe following remedy be tried. Take a magnet, impregnated with mummy, [65]and mixed with rich earth. In this earth sow some seeds that havea congruity or homogeneity with the disease; then let this earth, wellsifted and mixed with mummy, be laid in an earthen vessel; and let theseeds committed to it be watered daily with a lotion in which the diseasedlimb or body has been washed. Thus will the disease be transplanted fromthe human body to the seeds which are in the earth. Having done this, transplant the seeds from the earthen vessel to the ground, and wait tillthey begin to sprout into herbs; as they increase, the disease willdiminish; and when they have arrived at their full growth, it willdisappear altogether. "

 [65] Mummies were of several kinds, and were all of great use in magnetic medicines. Paracelsus enumerates six kinds of mummies; the first four only differing in the composition used by different people for preserving their dead, are the Egyptian, Arabian, Pisasphaltos, and Libyan. The fifth mummy of peculiar power was made from criminals that had been hanged; "for from such there is a gentle siccation, that expungeth the watery humour, without destroying the oil and spirituall, which is cherished by the heavenly luminaries, and strengthened continually by the affluence and impulses of the celestial spirits; whence it may be properly called by the name of constellated or celestial mummie. " The sixth kind of mummy was made of corpuscles, or spiritual effluences, radiated from the living body; though we cannot get very clear ideas on this head, or respecting the manner in which they were caught. --_Medicina Diatastica; or, Sympathetical Mummie, abstracted from the Works of Paracelsus, and translated out of the Latin_, by Fernando Parkhurst, Gent. London, 1653, pp. 2, 7. Quoted by the _Foreign Quarterly Review_, vol. Xii. P. 415. 

Kircher the Jesuit, whose quarrel with the alchymists was the means ofexposing many of their impostures, was a firm believer in the efficacy ofthe magnet. Having been applied to by a patient afflicted with hernia, hedirected the man to swallow a small magnet reduced to powder, while heapplied at the same time to the external swelling, a poultice made offilings of iron. He expected that by this means the magnet, when it got tothe corresponding place inside, would draw in the iron, and with it thetumour; which would thus, he said, be safely and expeditiously reduced. 

As this new doctrine of magnetism spread, it was found that woundsinflicted with any metallic substance could be cured by the magnet. Inprocess of time, the delusion so increased, that it was deemed sufficientto magnetise a sword, to cure any hurt which that sword might haveinflicted! This was the origin of the celebrated "weapon-salve, " whichexcited so much attention about the middle of the seventeenth century. Thefollowing was the recipe given by Paracelsus for the cure of any woundsinflicted by a sharp weapon, except such as had penetrated the heart, thebrain, or the arteries. "Take of moss growing on the head of a thief whohas been hanged and left in the air; of real mummy; of human blood, stillwarm--of each, one ounce; of human suet, two ounces; of linseed oil, turpentine, and Armenian bole--of each, two drachms. Mix all well in amortar, and keep the salve in an oblong, narrow urn. " With this salve theweapon, after being dipped in the blood from the wound, was to becarefully anointed, and then laid by in a cool place. In the mean time, the wound was to be duly washed with fair clean water, covered with aclean, soft, linen rag, and opened once a day to cleanse off purulent orother matter. Of the success of this treatment, says the writer ofthe able article on Animal Magnetism, in the twelfth volume of the_Foreign Quarterly Review_, there cannot be the least doubt; "for surgeonsat this moment follow exactly the same method, _except_ anointing theweapon!"

The weapon-salve continued to be much spoken of on the Continent, and manyeager claimants appeared for the honour of the invention. Dr. Fludd, or A. Fluctibus, the Rosicrucian, who has been already mentioned in a previouspart of this volume, was very zealous in introducing it into England. Hetried it with great success in several cases, and no wonder, for while hekept up the spirits of his patients by boasting of the great efficacy ofthe salve, he never neglected those common, but much more importantremedies, of washing, bandaging, &c. Which the experience of all ages haddeclared sufficient for the purpose. Fludd moreover declared, that themagnet was a remedy for all diseases, if properly applied; but that manhaving, like the earth, a north and a south pole, magnetism could onlytake place when his body was in a boreal position! In the midst of hispopularity, an attack was made upon him and his favourite remedy, thesalve; which, however, did little or nothing to diminish the belief in itsefficacy. One "Parson Foster" wrote a pamphlet, entitled _HyplocrismaSpongus; or, a Spunge to wipe away the Weapon-Salve_; in which hedeclared, that it was as bad as witchcraft to use or recommend such anunguent; that it was invented by the Devil, who, at the last day, wouldseize upon every person who had given it the slightest encouragement. "Infact, " said Parson Foster, "the Devil himself gave it to Paracelsus;Paracelsus to the emperor; the emperor to the courtier; the courtier toBaptista Porta; and Baptista Porta to Dr. Fludd, a doctor of physic, yetliving and practising in the famous city of London, who now stands toothand nail for it. " Dr. Fludd, thus assailed, took up the pen in defence ofhis unguent, in a reply called _The Squeezing of Parson Foster's Spunge;wherein the Spunge-bearer's immodest carriage and behaviour towards hisbrethren is detected; the bitter flames of his slanderous reports are, bythe sharp vinegar of truth, corrected and quite extinguished; and lastly, the virtuous validity of his spunge in wiping away the-weapon-salve, iscrushed out and clean abolished_. 

Shortly after this dispute a more distinguished believer in theweapon-salve made his appearance in the person of Sir Kenelm Digby, theson of Sir Everard Digby, who was executed for his participation in theGunpowder Plot. This gentleman, who, in other respects, was anaccomplished scholar and an able man, was imbued with all the extravagantnotions of the alchymists. He believed in the philosopher's stone, andwished to engage Descartes to devote his energies to the discoveryof the elixir of life, or some other means by which the existence of manmight be prolonged to an indefinite period. He gave his wife, thebeautiful Venetia Anastasia Stanley, a dish of capons fed upon vipers, according to the plan supposed to have been laid down by Arnold ofVilleneuve, in the hope that she might thereby preserve her loveliness fora century. If such a man once took up the idea of the weapon-salve, it wasto be expected that he would make the most of it. In his hands, however, it was changed from an unguent into a powder, and was called the _powderof sympathy_. He pretended that he had acquired the knowledge of it from aCarmelite friar, who had learned it in Persia or Armenia, from an orientalphilosopher of great renown. King James, the Prince of Wales, the Duke ofBuchingham, and many other noble personages, believed in its efficacy. Thefollowing remarkable instance of his mode of cure was read by Sir Kenelmto a society of learned men at Montpellier. Mr. James Howell, thewell-known author of the _Dendrologia_, and of various letters, coming bychance as two of his best friends were fighting a duel, rushed betweenthem and endeavoured to part them. He seized the sword of one of thecombatants by the hilt, while, at the same time, he grasped the other bythe blade. Being transported with fury one against the other, theystruggled to rid themselves of the hindrance caused by their friend; andin so doing, the one whose sword was held by the blade by Mr. Howell, drewit away roughly, and nearly cut his hand off, severing the nerves andmuscles, and penetrating to the bone. The other, almost at the sameinstant, disengaged his sword, and aimed a blow at the head of hisantagonist, which Mr. Howell observing, raised his wounded hand with therapidity of thought to prevent the blow. The sword fell on the back of hisalready wounded hand, and cut it severely. "It seemed, " said Sir KenelmDigby, "as if some unlucky star raged over them, that they should haveboth shed the blood of that dear friend for whose life they would havegiven their own, if they had been in their proper mind at the time. "Seeing Mr. Howell's face all besmeared with blood from his wounded hand, they both threw down their swords and embraced him, and bound up his handwith a garter, to close the veins which were cut and bled profusely. Theythen conveyed him home, and sent for a surgeon. King James, who was muchattached to Mr. Howell, afterwards sent his own surgeon to attend him. Wemust continue the narrative in the words of Sir Kenelm Digby: "It was mychance, " says he, "to be lodged hard by him; and four or five days after, as I was making myself ready, he came to my house, and prayed me to viewhis wounds. 'For I understand, ' said he, 'that you have extraordinaryremedies on such occasions; and my surgeons apprehend some fearthat it may grow to a gangrene, and so the hand must be cut off. ' Ineffect, his countenance discovered that he was in much pain, which, hesaid, was insupportable in regard of the extreme inflammation. I told himI would willingly serve him; but if, haply, he knew the manner how I couldcure him, without touching or seeing him, it might be that he would notexpose himself to my manner of curing; because he would think it, peradventure, either ineffectual or superstitious. He replied, 'The manywonderful things which people have related unto me of your way ofmedicinement makes me nothing doubt at all of its efficacy; and all that Ihave to say unto you is comprehended in the Spanish proverb, _Hagase elmilagro y hagalo Mahoma_--Let the miracle be done, though Mahomet do it. '

"I asked him then for any thing that had the blood upon it: so hepresently sent for his garter, wherewith his hand was first bound; and asI called for a basin of water, as if I would wash my hands, I took ahandful of powder of vitriol, which I had in my study, and presentlydissolved it. As soon as the bloody garter was brought me, I put it in thebasin, observing, in the interim, what Mr. Howell did, who stood talkingwith a gentleman in a corner of my chamber, not regarding at all what Iwas doing. He started suddenly, as if he had found some strange alterationin himself. I asked him what he ailed? 'I know not what ails me, but Ifind that I feel no more pain. Methinks that a pleasing kind of freshness, as it were a wet cold napkin, did spread over my hand, which hath takenaway the inflammation that tormented me before. ' I replied, 'Since, then, you feel already so much good of my medicament, I advise you to cast awayall your plasters; only keep the wound clean, and in a moderate temperbetwixt heat and cold. ' This was presently reported to the Duke ofBuckingham, and, a little after, to the king, who were both very curiousto know the circumstances of the business; which was, that after dinner Itook the garter out of the water, and put it to dry before a great fire. It was scarce dry before Mr. Howell's servant came running, and sayingthat his master felt as much burning as ever he had done, if not more; forthe heat was such as if his hand were betwixt coals of fire. I answeredthat, although that had happened at present, yet he should find ease in ashort time; for I knew the reason of this new accident, and would provideaccordingly; for his master should be free from that inflammation, itmight be before he could possibly return to him. But, in case he found noease, I wished him to come presently back again; if not, he might forbearcoming. Thereupon he went, and, at the instant I did put thegarter again into the water; thereupon he found his master without anypain at all. To be brief, there was no cense of pain afterwards; butwithin five or six days the wounds were sicatrised and entirely healed. "

Such is the marvellous story of Sir Kenelm Digby. Other practitioners ofthat age were not behind him in their pretensions. It was not alwaysthought necessary to use either the powder of sympathy, or theweapon-salve, to effect a cure. It was sufficient to magnetise the swordwith the hand (the first faint dawn of the _animal_ theory), to relieveany pain the same weapon had caused. They asserted, that if they strokedthe sword _upwards_ with their fingers, the wounded person would feelimmediate relief; but if they stroked it _downwards_, he would feelintolerable pain. [66]

 [66] Reginald Scott, quoted by Sir Walter Scott, in the notes to the _Lay of the last Minstrel_, c. Iii. V. Xxiii. 

Another very singular notion of the power and capabilities of magnetismwas entertained at the same time. It was believed that a _sympatheticalphabet_ could be made on the flesh, by means of which persons couldcorrespond with each other, and communicate all their ideas with therapidity of volition, although thousands of miles apart. From the arms oftwo persons a piece of flesh was cut, and mutually transplanted, whilestill warm and bleeding. The piece so severed grew to the new arm on whichit was placed; but still retained so close a sympathy with its nativelimb, that its old possessor was always sensible of any injury done to it. Upon these transplanted pieces were tatooed the letters of the alphabet;so that, when a communication was to be made, either of the persons, though the wide Atlantic rolled between them, had only to prick his armwith a magnetic needle, and straightway his friend received intimationthat the telegraph was at work. Whatever letter he pricked on his own armpained the same letter on the arm of his correspondent. 

Contemporary with Sir Kenelm Digby was the no less famous Mr. ValentineGreatraks, who, without mentioning magnetism, or laying claim to anytheory, practised upon himself and others a deception much more akin tothe animal magnetism of the present day than the mineral magnetism it wasthen so much the fashion to study. He was the son of an Irish gentleman, of good education and property, in the county of Cork. He fell, at anearly age, into a sort of melancholy derangement. After some time he hadan impulse, or strange persuasion in his mind, which continued to presentitself, whether he were sleeping or waking, that God had given him thepower of curing the king's evil. He mentioned this persuasion to his wife, who very candidly told him that he was a fool. He was not quite sure ofthis, notwithstanding the high authority from which it came, anddetermined to make trial of the power that was in him. A few daysafterwards, he went to one William Maher, of Saltersbridge, in the parishof Lismore, who was grievously afflicted with the king's evil in his eyes, cheek, and throat. Upon this man, who was of abundant faith, he laid hishands, stroked him, and prayed fervently. He had the satisfaction to seehim heal considerably in the course of a few days; and finally, with theaid of other remedies, to be quite cured. This success encouraged him inthe belief that he had a divine mission. Day after day he had furtherimpulses from on high that he was called upon to cure the ague also. Inthe course of time he extended his powers to the curing of epilepsy, ulcers, aches, and lameness. All the county of Cork was in a commotion tosee this extraordinary physician, who certainly operated some very greatbenefit in cases where the disease was heightened by hypochondria anddepression of spirits. According to his own account, [67] such greatmultitudes resorted to him from divers places, that he had no time tofollow his own business, or enjoy the company of his family and friends. He was obliged to set aside three days in the week, from six in themorning till six at night, during which time only he laid hands upon allthat came. Still the crowds which thronged around him were so great, thatthe neighbouring towns were not able to accommodate them. He thereuponleft his house in the country, and went to Youghal, where the resort ofsick people, not only from all parts of Ireland, but from England, continued so great, that the magistrates were afraid they would infect theplace by their diseases. Several of these poor credulous people no soonersaw him than they fell into fits, and he restored them by waving his handin their faces, and praying over them. Nay, he affirmed that the touch ofhis glove had driven pains away, and, on one occasion, cast out from awoman several devils, or evil spirits, who tormented her day and night. "Every one of these devils, " says Greatraks, "was like to choke her whenit came up into her throat. " It is evident from this that the woman'scomplaint was nothing but hysteria. 

 [67] Greatraks' Account of himself, in a letter to the Honourable Robert Boyle. 

The clergy of the diocese of Lismore, who seem to have had much clearernotions of Greatraks' pretensions than their parishioners, set their facesagainst the new prophet and worker of miracles. He was cited to appear inthe Dean's Court, and prohibited from laying on his hands for the future:but he cared nothing for the Church. He imagined that he derived hispowers direct from heaven, and continued to throw people intofits, and bring them to their senses again, as usual, almost exactly afterthe fashion of modern magnetisers. His reputation became, at last, sogreat, that Lord Conway sent to him from London, begging that he wouldcome over immediately to cure a grievous headache which his lady hadsuffered for several years, and which the principal physicians of Englandhad been unable to relieve. 

Greatraks accepted the invitation, and tried his manipulations and prayersupon Lady Conway. He failed, however, in affording any relief. The poorlady's headache was excited by causes too serious to allow her any help, even from faith and a lively imagination. He lived for some months in LordConway's house, at Ragley, in Warwickshire, operating cures similar tothose he had performed in Ireland. He afterwards removed to London, andtook a house in Lincoln's-Inn Fields, which soon became the daily resortof all the nervous and credulous women of the metropolis. A very amusingaccount of Greatraks at this time (1665) is given in the second volume ofthe _Miscellanies of St. Evremond_, under the title of the Irish prophet. It is the most graphic sketch ever made of this early magnetiser. Whetherhis pretensions were more or less absurd than those of some of hissuccessors, who have lately made their appearance among us, would be hardto say. 

"When M. De Comminges, " says St. Evremond, "was ambassador from his mostChristian majesty to the king of Great Britain, there came to London anIrish prophet, who passed himself off as a great worker of miracles. Somepersons of quality having begged M. De Comminges to invite him to hishouse, that they might be witnesses of some of his miracles, theambassador promised to satisfy them, as much to gratify his own curiosityas from courtesy to his friends; and gave notice to Greatraks that hewould be glad to see him. 

"A rumour of the prophet's coming soon spread all over the town, and thehotel of M. De Comminges was crowded by sick persons, who came full ofconfidence in their speedy cure. The Irishman made them wait aconsiderable time for him, but came at last, in the midst of theirimpatience, with a grave and simple countenance, that showed no signs ofhis being a cheat. Monsieur de Comminges prepared to question himstrictly, hoping to discourse with him on the matters that he had read ofin Van Helmont and Bodinus; but he was not able to do so, much to hisregret, for the crowd became so great, and cripples and others pressedaround so impatiently to be the first cured, that the servants wereobliged to use threats, and even force, before they couldestablish order among them, or place them in proper ranks. 

"The prophet affirmed that all diseases were caused by evil spirits. Everyinfirmity was with him a case of diabolical possession. The first that waspresented to him was a man suffering from gout and rheumatism, and soseverely that the physicians had been unable to cure him. 'Ah, ' said themiracle-worker, 'I have seen a good deal of this sort of spirits when Iwas in Ireland. They are watery spirits, who bring on cold shivering, andexcite an overflow of aqueous humours in our poor bodies. ' Then addressingthe man, he said, 'Evil spirit, who hast quitted thy dwelling in thewaters to come and afflict this miserable body, I command thee to quit thynew abode, and to return to thine ancient habitation!' This said, the sickman was ordered to withdraw, and another was brought forward in his place. This new comer said he was tormented by the melancholy vapours. In fact, he looked like a hypochondriac; one of those persons, diseased inimagination, and who but too often become so in reality. 'Aerial spirit, 'said the Irishman, 'return, I command thee, into the air;--exercise thynatural vocation of raising tempests, and do not excite any more wind inthis sad unlucky body!' This man was immediately turned away to make roomfor a third patient, who, in the Irishman's opinion, was only tormented bya little bit of a sprite, who could not withstand his command for aninstant. He pretended that he recognised this sprite by some marks whichwere invisible to the company, to whom he turned with a smile, and said, 'This sort of spirit does not often do much harm, and is always verydiverting. ' To hear him talk, one would have imagined that he knew allabout spirits, --their names, their rank, their numbers, their employment, and all the functions they were destined to; and he boasted of being muchbetter acquainted with the intrigues of demons than he was with theaffairs of men. You can hardly imagine what a reputation he gained in ashort time. Catholics and Protestants visited him from every part, allbelieving that power from heaven was in his hands. "

After relating a rather equivocal adventure of a husband and wife, whoimplored Greatraks to cast out the devil of dissension which had crept inbetween them, St. Evremond thus sums up the effect he produced on thepopular mind: "So great was the confidence in him, that the blind fanciedthey saw the light which they did not see--the deaf imagined that theyheard--the lame that they walked straight, and the paralytic that they hadrecovered the use of their limbs. An idea of health made the sick forgetfor a while their maladies; and imagination, which was not lessactive in those merely drawn by curiosity than in the sick, gave a falseview to the one class, from the desire of seeing, as it operated a falsecure on the other from the strong desire of being healed. Such was thepower of the Irishman over the mind, and such was the influence of themind upon the body. Nothing was spoken of in London but his prodigies; andthese prodigies were supported by such great authorities, that thebewildered multitude believed them almost without examination, while moreenlightened people did not dare to reject them from their own knowledge. The public opinion, timid and enslaved, respected this imperious and, apparently, well-authenticated error. Those who saw through the delusionkept their opinion to themselves, knowing how useless it was to declaretheir disbelief to a people filled with prejudice and admiration. "

About the same time that Valentine Greatraks was thus _magnetising_ thepeople of London, an Italian enthusiast, named Francisco Bagnone, wasperforming the same tricks in Italy, and with as great success. He hadonly to touch weak women with his hands, or sometimes (for the sake ofworking more effectively upon their fanaticism) with a relic, to make themfall into fits, and manifest all the symptoms of magnetism. 

Besides these, several learned men, in different parts of Europe, directedtheir attention to the study of the magnet, believing that it might berendered efficacious in many diseases. Van Helmont, in particular, published a work on the effects of magnetism on the human frame; andBalthazar Gracian, a Spaniard, rendered himself famous for the boldness ofhis views on the subject. "The magnet, " said the latter, "attracts iron;iron is found every where; every thing, therefore, is under the influenceof magnetism. It is only a modification of the general principle, whichestablishes harmony or foments divisions among men. It is the same agentthat gives rise to sympathy, antipathy, and the passions. "[68]

 [68] _Introduction to the Study of Animal Magnetism_, by Baron Dupotet de Sennevoy, p. 315. 

Baptista Porta, who, in the whimsical genealogy of the weapon-salve, givenby Parson Foster, in his attack upon Dr. à Fluctibus, is mentioned as oneof its fathers, had also great faith in the efficacy of the magnet, andoperated upon the imagination of his patients in a manner which was thenconsidered so extraordinary that he was accused of being a magician, andprohibited from practising by the court of Rome. Among others whodistinguished themselves by their faith in magnetism, Sebastian Wirdig andWilliam Maxwell claim especial notice. Wirdig was professor of medicine atthe university of Rostock in Mecklenburg, and wrote a treatisecalled _The New Medicine of the Spirits_, which he presented to the RoyalSociety of London. An edition of this work was printed in 1673, in whichthe author maintained that a magnetic influence took place, not onlybetween the celestial and terrestrial bodies, but between all livingthings. The whole world, he said, was under the influence of magnetism;life was preserved by magnetism; death was the consequence of magnetism!

Maxwell, the other enthusiast, was an admiring disciple of Paracelsus, andboasted that he had irradiated the obscurity in which too many of thewonder-working recipes of that great philosopher were enveloped. His workswere printed at Frankfort in 1679. It would seem, from the followingpassage, that he was aware of the great influence of imagination, as wellin the production as in the cure of diseases. "If you wish to workprodigies, " says he, "abstract from the materiality of beings--increasethe sum of spirituality in bodies--rouse the spirit from its slumbers. Unless you do one or other of these things--unless you can bind the idea, you can never perform any thing good or great. " Here, in fact, lies thewhole secret of magnetism, and all delusions of a similar kind: increasethe spirituality--rouse the spirit from its slumbers, or, in other words, work upon the imagination--induce belief and blind confidence, and you maydo any thing. This passage, which is quoted with approbation by M. Dupotet[69] in a work, as strongly corroborative of the theory nowadvanced by the animal magnetists, is just the reverse. If they believethey can work all their wonders by the means so dimly shadowed forth byMaxwell, what becomes of the universal fluid pervading all nature, andwhich they pretend to pour into weak and diseased bodies from the tips oftheir fingers?

 [69] _Introduction to the Study of Animal Magnetism_, p. 318. 

Early in the eighteenth century the attention of Europe was directed to avery remarkable instance of fanaticism, which has been claimed by theanimal magnetists as a proof of their science. The _Convulsionaries of St. Medard_, as they were called, assembled in great numbers round the tomb oftheir favourite saint, the Jansenist priest Paris, and taught one anotherhow to fall into convulsions. They believed that St. Paris would cure alltheir infirmities; and the number of hysterical women and weak-mindedpersons of all descriptions that flocked to the tomb from far and near wasso great as daily to block up all the avenues leading to it. Workingthemselves up to a pitch of excitement, they went off one after the otherinto fits, while some of them, still in apparent possession of all theirfaculties, voluntarily exposed themselves to sufferings which onordinary occasions would have been sufficient to deprive them of life. Thescenes that occurred were a scandal to civilisation and to religion--astrange mixture of obscenity, absurdity, and superstition. While some werepraying on bended knees at the shrine of St. Paris, others were shriekingand making the most hideous noises. The women especially exertedthemselves. On one side of the chapel there might be seen a score of them, all in convulsions; while at another as many more, excited to a sort offrenzy, yielded themselves up to gross indecencies. Some of them took aninsane delight in being beaten and trampled upon. One in particular, according to Montégre, whose account we quote, [70] was so enraptured withthis ill-usage, that nothing but the hardest blows would satisfy her. While a fellow of Herculean strength was beating her with all his mightwith a heavy bar of iron, she kept continually urging him to renewedexertion. The harder he struck the better she liked it, exclaiming all thewhile, "Well done, brother, well done! Oh, how pleasant it is! what goodyou are doing me! Courage, my brother, courage; strike harder, strikeharder still!" Another of these fanatics had, if possible, a still greaterlove for a beating. Carré de Montgeron, who relates the circumstance, wasunable to satisfy her with sixty blows of a large sledge-hammer. Heafterwards used the same weapon with the same degree of strength, for thesake of experiment, and succeeded in battering a hole in a stone wall atthe twenty-fifth stroke. Another woman, named Sonnet, laid herself down ona red-hot brazier without flinching, and acquired for herself the nicknameof the _Salamander_; while others, desirous of a more illustriousmartyrdom, attempted to crucify themselves. M. Deleuze, in his criticalhistory of _Animal Magnetism_, attempts to prove that this fanaticalfrenzy was produced by magnetism, and that these mad enthusiastsmagnetised each other without being aware of it. As well might he insistthat the fanaticism which tempts the Hindoo bigot to keep his armsstretched in a horizontal position till the sinews wither, or his fingersclosed upon his palms till the nails grow out of the backs of his hands, is also an effect of magnetism!

 [70] _Dictionaire des Sciences Médicales_--Article _Convulsionnaires_, par Montégre. 

For a period of sixty or seventy years magnetism was almost whollyconfined to Germany. Men of sense and learning devoted their attention tothe properties of the loadstone; and one Father Hell, a Jesuit, andprofessor of astronomy at the University of Vienna, rendered himselffamous by his magnetic cures. About the year 1771 or 1772 he inventedsteel-plates of a peculiar form, which he applied to the naked body as acure for several diseases. In the year 1774 he communicated his system toAnthony Mesmer. The latter improved upon the ideas of Father Hell, constructed a new theory of his own, and became the founder of ANIMALMAGNETISM. 

It has been the fashion among the enemies of the new delusion to decryMesmer as an unprincipled adventurer, while his disciples have extolledhim to the skies as a regenerator of the human race. In nearly the samewords as the Rosicrucians applied to their founders, he has been calledthe discoverer of the secret which brings man into more intimate connexionwith his Creator, the deliverer of the soul from the debasing trammels ofthe flesh, the man who enables us to set time at defiance, and conquer theobstructions of space. A careful sifting of his pretensions, andexamination of the evidence brought forward to sustain them, will soonshew which opinion is the more correct. That the writer of these pagesconsiders him in the light of a man who, deluding himself, was the meansof deluding others, may be inferred from his finding a place in thesevolumes, and figuring among the Flamels, the Agrippas, the Borris, theBöhmens, and the Cagliostros. 

He was born in May 1734, at Mersburg, in Swabia, and studied medicine atthe University of Vienna. He took his degrees in 1766, and chose theinfluence of the planets on the human body as the subject of his inauguraldissertation. Having treated the matter quite in the style of the oldastrological physicians, he was exposed to some ridicule both then andafterwards. Even at this early period some faint ideas of his great theorywere germinating in his mind. He maintained in his dissertation "that thesun, moon, and fixed stars mutually affect each other in their orbits;that they cause and direct in our earth a flux and reflux not only in thesea, but in the atmosphere, and affect in a similar manner all organisedbodies through the medium of a subtile and mobile fluid, which pervadesthe universe, and associates all things together in mutual intercourse andharmony. " This influence, he said, was particularly exercised on thenervous system, and produced two states, which he called _intension_ and_remission_, which seemed to him to account for the different periodicalrevolutions observable in several maladies. When in after-life he met withFather Hell, he was confirmed by that person's observations in the truthof many of his own ideas. Having caused Hell to make him some magneticplates, he determined to try experiments with them himself for his furthersatisfaction. 

He tried accordingly, and was astonished at his success. The faith oftheir wearers operated wonders with the metallic plates. Mesmer made duereports to Father Hell of all he had done, and the latter published themas the results of his own happy invention, and speaking of Mesmer as aphysician whom he had employed to work under him. Mesmer took offence atbeing thus treated, considering himself a far greater personage thanFather Hell. He claimed the invention as his own, accused Hell of a breachof confidence, and stigmatised him as a mean person, anxious to turn thediscoveries of others to his own account. Hell replied, and a very prettyquarrel was the result, which afforded small talk for months to theliterati of Vienna. Hell ultimately gained the victory. Mesmer, nothingdaunted, continued to promulgate his views till he stumbled at last uponthe animal theory. 

One of his patients was a young lady, named Oesterline, who suffered undera convulsive malady. Her attacks were periodical, and attended by a rushof blood to the head, followed by delirium and syncope. These symptoms hesoon succeeded in reducing under his system of planetary influence, andimagined he could foretell the periods of accession and remission. Havingthus accounted satisfactorily to himself for the origin of the disease, the idea struck him that he could operate a certain cure if he couldascertain beyond doubt, what he had long believed, that there existedbetween the bodies which compose our globe an action equally reciprocaland similar to that of the heavenly bodies, by means of which he couldimitate artificially the periodical revolutions of the flux and refluxbefore mentioned. He soon convinced himself that this action did exist. When trying the metallic plates of Father Hell, he thought their efficacydepended on their form; but he found afterwards that he could produce thesame effects without using them at all, merely by passing his handsdownwards towards the feet of the patient, even when at a considerabledistance. 

This completed the theory of Mesmer. He wrote an account of his discoveryto all the learned societies of Europe, soliciting their investigation. The Academy of Sciences at Berlin was the only one that answered him, andtheir answer was any thing but favourable to his system or flattering tohimself. Still he was not discouraged. He maintained to all who wouldlisten to him that the magnetic matter, or fluid, pervaded all theuniverse--that every human body contained it, and could communicate thesuperabundance of it to another by an exertion of the will. Writing to afriend from Vienna, he said, "I have observed that the magnetic is almostthe same thing as the electric fluid, and that it may be propagated in thesame manner, by means of intermediate bodies. Steel is not the onlysubstance adapted to this purpose. I have rendered paper, bread, wool, silk, stones, leather, glass, wood, men, and dogs--in short, every thing Itouched, magnetic to such a degree, that these substances produced thesame effects as the loadstone on diseased persons. I have charged jarswith magnetic matter in the same way as is done with electricity. "

Mesmer did not long find his residence at Vienna as agreeable as hewished. His pretensions were looked upon with contempt or indifference, and the case of Mademoiselle Oesterline brought him less fame thannotoriety. He determined to change his sphere of action, and travelledinto Swabia and Switzerland. In the latter country he met with thecelebrated Father Gassner, who, like Valentine Greatraks, amused himselfby casting out devils, and healing the sick by merely laying hands uponthem. At his approach, delicate girls fell into convulsions, andhypochondriacs fancied themselves cured. His house was daily besieged bythe lame, the blind, and the hysteric. Mesmer at once acknowledged theefficacy of his cures, and declared that they were the obvious result ofhis own newly-discovered power of magnetism. A few of the father'spatients were forthwith subjected to the manipulations of Mesmer, and thesame symptoms were induced. He then tried his hand upon some paupers inthe hospitals of Berne and Zurich, and succeeded, according to his ownaccount, but no other person's, in curing an opththalmia and a guttaserena. With memorials of these achievements he returned to Vienna, in thehope of silencing his enemies, or at least forcing them to respect hisnewly-acquired reputation, and to examine his system more attentively. 

His second appearance in that capital was not more auspicious than thefirst. He undertook to cure a Mademoiselle Paradis, who was quite blind, and subject to convulsions. He magnetised her several times, and thendeclared that she was cured; at least, if she was not, it was her faultand not his. An eminent oculist of that day, named Barth, went to visither, and declared that she was as blind as ever; while her family said shewas as much subject to convulsions as before. Mesmer persisted that shewas cured. Like the French philosopher, he would not allow facts tointerfere with his theory. [71] He declared that there was a conspiracyagainst him; and that Mademoiselle Paradis, at the instigation of herfamily, feigned blindness in order to injure his reputation!

 [71] An enthusiastic philosopher, of whose name we are not informed, had constructed a very satisfactory theory on some subject or other, and was not a little proud of it. "But the facts, my dear fellow, " said his friend, "the facts do not agree with your theory. "--"Don't they?" replied the philosopher, shrugging his shoulders, "then, _tant pis pour les faits_;"--so much the worse for the facts!

The consequences of this pretended cure taught Mesmer that Viennawas not the sphere for him. Paris, the idle, the debauched, thepleasure-hunting, the novelty-loving, was the scene for a philosopher likehim, and thither he repaired accordingly. He arrived at Paris in 1778, andbegan modestly by making himself and his theory known to the principalphysicians. At first, his encouragement was but slight; he found peoplemore inclined to laugh at than to patronise him. But he was a man who hadgreat confidence in himself, and of a perseverance which no difficultiescould overcome. He hired a sumptuous apartment, which he opened to allcomers who chose to make trial of the new power of nature. M. D'Eslon, aphysician of great reputation, became a convert; and from that time, animal magnetism, or, as some called it, mesmerism, became the fashion inParis. The women were quite enthusiastic about it, and their admiringtattle wafted its fame through every grade of society. Mesmer was therage; and high and low, rich and poor, credulous and unbelieving, allhastened to convince themselves of the power of this mighty magician, whomade such magnificent promises. Mesmer, who knew as well as any man livingthe influence of the imagination, determined that, on that score, nothingshould be wanting to heighten the effect of the magnetic charm. In allParis, there was not a house so charmingly furnished as Monsieur Mesmer's. Richly-stained glass shed a dim religious light on his spacious saloons, which were almost covered with mirrors. Orange-blossoms scented all theair of his corridors; incense of the most expensive kinds burned inantique vases on his chimney-pieces; æolian harps sighed melodious musicfrom distant chambers; while sometimes a sweet female voice, from above orbelow, stole softly upon the mysterious silence that was kept in thehouse, and insisted upon from all visitors. "_Was ever any thing sodelightful!_" cried all the Mrs. Wittitterleys of Paris, as they throngedto his house in search of pleasant excitement; "_So wonderful!_" said thepseudo-philosophers, who would believe anything if it were the fashion;"_So amusing!_" said the worn-out debauchés, who had drained the cup ofsensuality to its dregs, and who longed to see lovely women inconvulsions, with the hope that they might gain some new emotions from thesight. 

The following was the mode of operation: In the centre of the saloon wasplaced an oval vessel, about four feet in its longest diameter, and onefoot deep. In this were laid a number of wine-bottles, filled withmagnetised water, well corked-up, and disposed in radii, with their necksoutwards. Water was then poured into the vessel so as just to cover thebottles, and filings of iron were thrown in occasionally to heighten themagnetic effect. The vessel was then covered with an iron cover, pierced through with many holes, and was called the _baquet_. From eachhole issued a long movable rod of iron, which the patients were to applyto such parts of their bodies as were afflicted. Around this _baquet_ thepatients were directed to sit, holding each other by the hand, andpressing their knees together as closely as possible, to facilitate thepassage of the magnetic fluid from one to the other. 

Then came in the assistant magnetisers, generally strong, handsome youngmen, to pour into the patient from their finger-tips fresh streams of thewondrous fluid. They embraced the patient between the knees, rubbed themgently down the spine and the course of the nerves, using gentle pressureupon the breasts of the ladies, and staring them out of countenance tomagnetise them by the eye! All this time the most rigorous silence wasmaintained, with the exception of a few wild notes on the harmonica or thepiano-forte, or the melodious voice of a hidden opera-singer swellingsoftly at long intervals. Gradually the cheeks of the ladies began toglow, their imaginations to become inflamed; and off they went, one afterthe other, in convulsive fits. Some of them sobbed and tore their hair, others laughed till the tears ran from their eyes, while others shriekedand screamed and yelled till they became insensible altogether. 

This was the crisis of the delirium. In the midst of it, the chief actormade his appearance, waving his wand, like Prospero, to work new wonders. Dressed in a long robe of lilac-coloured silk richly embroidered with goldflowers, bearing in his hand a white magnetic rod, and with a look ofdignity which would have sat well on an eastern caliph, he marched withsolemn strides into the room. He awed the still sensible by his eye, andthe violence of their symptoms diminished. He stroked the insensible withhis hands upon the eye-brows and down the spine; traced figures upon theirbreast and abdomen with his long white wand, and they were restored toconsciousness. They became calm, acknowledged his power, and said theyfelt streams of cold or burning vapour passing through their frames, according as he waved his wand or his fingers before them. 

"It is impossible, " says M. Dupotet, "to conceive the sensation whichMesmer's experiments created in Paris. No theological controversy, in theearlier ages of the Catholic Church, was ever conducted with greaterbitterness. " His adversaries denied the discovery; some calling him aquack, others a fool, and others again, like the Abbé Fiard, a man who hadsold himself to the Devil! His friends were as extravagant in theirpraise, as his foes were in their censure. Paris was inundated withpamphlets upon the subject, as many defending as attacking the doctrine. At court, the queen expressed herself in favour of it, and nothingelse was to be heard of in society. 

By the advice of M. D'Eslon, Mesmer challenged an examination of hisdoctrine by the Faculty of Medicine. He proposed to select twenty-fourpatients, twelve of whom he would treat magnetically, leaving the othertwelve to be treated by the faculty according to the old and approvedmethods. He also stipulated that, to prevent disputes, the governmentshould nominate certain persons who were not physicians, to be present atthe experiments; and that the object of the inquiry should be, not howthese effects were produced, but whether they were really efficacious inthe cure of any disease. The faculty objected to limit the inquiry in thismanner, and the proposition fell to the ground. 

Mesmer now wrote to Marie Antoinette, with the view of securing herinfluence in obtaining for him the protection of government. He wished tohave a château and its lands given to him, with a handsome yearly income, that he might be enabled to continue his experiments at leisure, untroubled by the persecution of his enemies. He hinted the duty ofgovernments to support men of science, and expressed his fear, that if hemet no more encouragement, he should be compelled to carry his greatdiscovery to some other land more willing to appreciate him. "In the eyesof your majesty, " said he, "four or five hundred thousand francs, appliedto a good purpose, are of no account. The welfare and happiness of yourpeople are every thing. My discovery ought to be received and rewardedwith a munificence worthy of the monarch to whom I shall attach myself. "The government at last offered him a pension of twenty thousand francs, and the cross of the order of St. Michael, if he had made any discovery inmedicine, and would communicate it to physicians nominated by the king. The latter part of the proposition was not agreeable to Mesmer. He fearedthe unfavourable report of the king's physicians; and, breaking off thenegotiation, spoke of his disregard of money, and his wish to have hisdiscovery at once recognised by the government. He then retired to Spa, ina fit of disgust, upon pretence of drinking the waters for the benefit ofhis health. 

After he had left Paris, the Faculty of Medicine called upon M. D'Eslon, for the third and last time, to renounce the doctrine of animal magnetism, or be expelled from their body. M. D'Eslon, so far from doing this, declared that he had discovered new secrets, and solicited furtherexamination. A royal commission of the Faculty of Medicine was, inconsequence, appointed on the 12th of March 1784, seconded by anothercommission of the Académie des Sciences, to investigate the phenomena andreport upon them. The first commission was composed of theprincipal physicians of Paris; while, among the eminent men comprised inthe latter, were Benjamin Franklin, Lavoisier, and Bailly the historian ofastronomy. Mesmer was formally invited to appear before this body, butabsented himself from day to day, upon one pretence or another. M. D'Eslonwas more honest, because he thoroughly believed in the phenomena, which itis to be questioned if Mesmer ever did, and regularly attended thesittings and performed experiments. 

Bailly has thus described the scenes of which he was a witness in thecourse of this investigation. "The sick persons, arranged in great numbersand in several rows around the _baquet_, receive the magnetism, by allthese means: by the iron rods which convey it to them from the_baquet_--by the cords wound round their bodies--by the connexion of thethumb, which conveys to them the magnetism of their neighbours--and by thesounds of a piano-forte, or of an agreeable voice, diffusing the magnetismin the air. The patients were also directly magnetised by means of thefinger and wand of the magnetiser moved slowly before their faces, aboveor behind their heads, and on the diseased parts, always observing thedirection of the holes. The magnetiser acts by fixing his eyes on them. But above all, they are magnetised by the application of his hands and thepressure of his fingers on the hypochondres and on the regions of theabdomen; an application often continued for a long time--sometimes forseveral hours. 

"Meanwhile the patients in their different conditions present a veryvaried picture. Some are calm, tranquil, and experience no effect. Otherscough, spit, feel slight pains, local or general heat, and have sweatings. Others again are agitated and tormented with convulsions. Theseconvulsions are remarkable in regard to the number affected with them, totheir duration and force. As soon as one begins to be convulsed, severalothers are affected. The commissioners have observed some of theseconvulsions last more than three hours. They are accompanied withexpectorations of a muddy viscous water, brought away by violent efforts. Sometimes streaks of blood have been observed in this fluid. Theseconvulsions are characterised by the precipitous, involuntary motion ofall the limbs, and of the whole body; by the contraction of the throat--bythe leaping motions of the hypochondria and the epigastrium--by thedimness and wandering of the eyes--by piercing shrieks, tears, sobbing, and immoderate laughter. They are preceded or followed by a state oflangour or reverie, a kind of depression, and sometimes drowsiness. Thesmallest sudden noise occasions a shuddering; and it was remarked, thatthe change of measure in the airs played on the piano-forte had agreat influence on the patients. A quicker motion, a livelier melody, agitated them more, and renewed the vivacity of their convulsions. 

"Nothing is more astonishing than the spectacle of these convulsions. Onewho has not seen them can form no idea of them. The spectator is as muchastonished at the profound repose of one portion of the patients as at theagitation of the rest--at the various accidents which are repeated, and atthe sympathies which are exhibited. Some of the patients may be seendevoting their attention exclusively to one another, rushing towards eachother with open arms, smiling, soothing, and manifesting every symptom ofattachment and affection. All are under the power of the magnetiser; itmatters not in what state of drowsiness they may be, the sound of hisvoice--a look, a motion of his hand--brings them out of it. Among thepatients in convulsions there are always observed a great many women, andvery few men. "[72]

 [72] _Rapport des Commissaires_, rédigé par M. Bailly. Paris, 1784. 

These experiments lasted for about five months. They had hardly commenced, before Mesmer, alarmed at the loss both of fame and profit, determined toreturn to Paris. Some patients of rank and fortune, enthusiastic believersin his doctrine, had followed him to Spa. One of them named Bergasse, proposed to open a subscription for him, of one hundred shares, at onehundred louis each, on condition that he would disclose his secret to thesubscribers, who were to be permitted to make whatever use they pleased ofit. Mesmer readily embraced the proposal; and such was the infatuation, that the subscription was not only filled in a few days, but exceeded byno less a sum than one hundred and forty thousand francs. 

With this fortune he returned to Paris, and recommenced his experiments, while the royal commission continued theirs. His admiring pupils, who hadpaid him so handsomely for his instructions, spread his fame over thecountry, and established in all the principal towns of France, "Societiesof Harmony, " for trying experiments and curing all diseases by means ofmagnetism. Some of these societies were a scandal to morality, beingjoined by profligate men of depraved appetites, who took a disgustingdelight in witnessing young girls in convulsions. Many of the pretendedmagnetisers were asserted at the time to be notorious libertines, who tookthat opportunity of gratifying their passions. 

At last the commissioners published their report, which was drawn up bythe illustrious and unfortunate Bailly. For clearness of reasoning andstrict impartiality it has never been surpassed. After detailing thevarious experiments made, and their results, they came to the conclusionthat the only proof advanced in support of animal magnetism was theeffects it produced on the human body--that those effects could beproduced without passes or other magnetic manipulations--that all thesemanipulations and passes and ceremonies never produce any effect at all ifemployed without the patient's knowledge; and that therefore imaginationdid, and animal magnetism did not, account for the phenomena. 

This report was the ruin of Mesmer's reputation in France. He quittedParis shortly after, with the three hundred and forty thousand francswhich had been subscribed by his admirers, and retired to his own country, where he died in 1815, at the advanced age of eighty-one. But the seeds hehad sown fructified of themselves, nourished and brought to maturity bythe kindly warmth of popular credulity. Imitators sprang up in France, Germany, and England, more extravagant than their master, and claimingpowers for the new science which its founder had never dreamt of. Amongothers, Cagliostro made good use of the delusion in extending his claimsto be considered a master of the occult sciences. But he made nodiscoveries worthy to be compared to those of the Marquis de Puysegur andthe Chevalier Barbarin, honest men, who began by deceiving themselvesbefore they deceived others. 

The Marquis de Puysegur, the owner of a considerable estate at Busancy, was one of those who had entered into the subscription for Mesmer. Afterthat individual had quitted France, he retired to Busancy, with hisbrother, to try animal magnetism upon his tenants, and cure the countrypeople of all manner of diseases. He was a man of great simplicity andmuch benevolence, and not only magnetised but fed the sick that flockedaround him. In all the neighbourhood, and indeed within a circumference oftwenty miles, he was looked upon as endowed with a power almost divine. His great discovery, as he called it, was made by chance. One day he hadmagnetised his gardener; and observing him to fall into a deep sleep, itoccurred to him that he would address a question to him, as he would havedone to a natural somnambulist. He did so, and the man replied with muchclearness and precision. M. De Puysegur was agreeably surprised: hecontinued his experiments, and found that, in this state of magneticsomnambulism, _the soul of the sleeper was enlarged, and brought into moreintimate communion with all nature, and more especially with him, M. DePuysegur_. He found that all further manipulations were unnecessary; that, without speaking or making any sign, he could convey his will to thepatient; that he could, in fact, converse with him, soul to soul, without the employment of any physical operation whatever!

Simultaneously with this marvellous discovery he made another, whichreflects equal credit upon his understanding. Like Valentine Greatraks, hefound it hard work to magnetise all that came--that he had not even timeto take the repose and relaxation which were necessary for his health. Inthis emergency he hit upon a clever expedient. He had heard Mesmer saythat he could magnetise bits of wood: why should he not be able tomagnetise a whole tree? It was no sooner thought than done. There was alarge elm on the village green at Busancy, under which the peasant girlsused to dance on festive occasions, and the old men to sit, drinking their_vin du pays_, on the fine summer evenings. M. De Puysegur proceeded tothis tree and magnetised it, by first touching it with his hands, and thenretiring a few steps from it; all the while directing streams of themagnetic fluid from the branches toward the trunk, and from the trunktoward the root. This done, he caused circular seats to be erected roundit, and cords suspended from it in all directions. When the patients hadseated themselves, they twisted the cords round the diseased parts oftheir bodies, and held one another firmly by their thumbs to form a directchannel of communication for the passage of the fluid. 

M. De Puysegur had now two "hobbies"--the man with the enlarged soul andthe magnetic elm. The infatuation of himself and his patients cannot bebetter expressed than in his own words. Writing to his brother, on the17th of May 1784, he says, "If you do not come, my dear friend, you willnot see my extraordinary man, for his health is now almost quite restored. I continue to make use of the happy power for which I am indebted to M. Mesmer. Every day I bless his name; for I am very useful, and produce manysalutary effects on all the sick poor in the neighbourhood. They flockaround my tree; there were more than one hundred and thirty of them thismorning. It is the best _baquet_ possible; _not a leaf of it butcommunicates health!_ all feel, more or less, the good effects of it. Youwill be delighted to see the charming picture of humanity which thispresents. I have only one regret--it is, that I cannot touch all who come. But my magnetised man--my intelligence--sets me at ease. He teaches mewhat conduct I should adopt. According to him, it is not at all necessarythat I should touch every one; a look, a gesture, even a wish, issufficient. And it is one of the most ignorant peasants of the countrythat teaches me this! When he is in a crisis, I know of nothing moreprofound, more prudent, more clearsighted (_clairvoyant_) than he is. "

In another letter, describing his first experiment with the magnetic tree, he says, "Yesterday evening I brought my first patient to it. As soon as Ihad put the cord round him he gazed at the tree; and, with an air ofastonishment which I cannot describe, exclaimed, 'What is it that I seethere?' His head then sunk down, and he fell into a perfect fit ofsomnambulism. At the end of an hour, I took him home to his house again, when I restored him to his senses. Several men and women came to tell himwhat he had been doing. He maintained it was not true; that, weak as hewas, and scarcely able to walk, it would have been scarcely possible forhim to have gone down stairs and walked to the tree. To-day I haverepeated the experiment on him, and with the same success. I own to youthat my head turns round with pleasure to think of the good I do. Madamede Puysegur, the friends she has with her, my servants, and, in fact, allwho are near me, feel an amazement, mingled with admiration, which cannotbe described; but they do not experience the half of my sensations. Without my tree, which gives me rest, and which will give me still more, Ishould be in a state of agitation, inconsistent, I believe, with myhealth. I exist too much, if I may be allowed to use the expression. "

In another letter, he descants still more poetically upon his gardenerwith the enlarged soul. He says, "It is from this simple man, this talland stout rustic, twenty-three years of age, enfeebled by disease, orrather by sorrow, and therefore the more predisposed to be affected by anygreat natural agent, --it is from this man, I repeat, that I deriveinstruction and knowledge. When in the magnetic state, he is no longer apeasant who can hardly utter a single sentence; he is a being, to describewhom I cannot find a name. I need not speak; _I have only to think beforehim, when he instantly understands and answers me_. Should any body comeinto the room, he sees him, if I desire it (but not else), and addresseshim, and says what I wish to say; not indeed exactly as I dictate to him, but as truth requires. When he wants to add more than I deem it prudentstrangers should hear, I stop the flow of his ideas, and of hisconversation in the middle of a word, and give it quite a different turn!"

Among other persons attracted to Busancy by the report of theseextraordinary occurrences was M. Cloquet, the Receiver of Finance. Hisappetite for the marvellous being somewhat insatiable, he readily believedall that was told him by M. De Puysegur. He also has left a record of whathe saw, and what he credited, which throws a still clearer light upon theprogress of the delusion. [73] He says that the patients he saw in themagnetic state had an appearance of deep sleep, during which allthe physical faculties were suspended, to the advantage of theintellectual faculties. The eyes of the patients were closed, the sense ofhearing was abolished; and they awoke only at the voice of theirmagnetiser. "If any one touched a patient during a crisis, or even thechair on which he was seated, " says M. Cloquet, "it would cause him muchpain and suffering, and throw him into convulsions. During the crisis, they possess an extraordinary and supernatural power, by which, ontouching a patient presented to them, they can feel what part of his bodyis diseased, even by merely passing their hand over the clothes. " Anothersingularity was, that these sleepers who could thus discover diseases, seeinto the interior of other men's stomachs, and point out remedies, remembered absolutely nothing after the magnetiser thought proper todisenchant them. The time that elapsed between their entering the crisisand their coming out of it was obliterated. Not only had the magnetiserthe power of making himself heard by the somnambulists, but he could makethem follow him by merely pointing his finger at them from a distance, though they had their eyes the whole time completely closed. 

 [73] _Introduction to the Study of Animal Magnetism_, by Baron Dupotet, p. 73. 

Such was animal magnetism under the auspices of the Marquis de Puysegur. While he was exhibiting these phenomena around his elm-tree, a magnetiserof another class appeared in Lyons, in the person of the Chevalier deBarbarin. This gentleman thought the effort of the will, without any ofthe paraphernalia of wands or _baquets_, was sufficient to throw patientsinto the magnetic sleep. He tried it and succeeded. By sitting at thebedside of his patients, and praying that they might be magnetised, theywent off into a state very similar to that of the persons who fell underthe notice of M. De Puysegur. In the course of time a very considerablenumber of magnetisers, acknowledging Barbarin for their model, and calledafter him Barbarinists, appeared in different parts, and were believed tohave effected some remarkable cures. In Sweden and Germany this sect offanatics increased rapidly, and were called _spiritualists_, todistinguish them from the followers of M. De Puysegur, who were called_experimentalists_. They maintained that all the effects of animalmagnetism, which Mesmer believed to be producible by a magnetic fluiddispersed through nature, were produced by the mere effort of one humansoul acting upon another; that when a connexion had once been establishedbetween a magnetiser and his patient, the former could communicate hisinfluence to the latter from any distance, even hundreds of miles, by thewill. One of them thus described the blessed state of a magnetic patient:"In such a man animal instinct ascends to the highest degree admissible inthis world. The _clairvoyant_ is then a pure animal, without anyadmixture of matter. His observations are those of a spirit. He is similarto God: his eye penetrates all the secrets of nature. When his attentionis fixed on any of the objects of this world--on his disease, his death, his well-beloved, his friends, his relations, his enemies--in spirit hesees them acting; he penetrates into the causes and the consequences oftheir actions; he becomes a physician, a prophet, a divine!"[74]

 [74] See _Foreign Review and Continental Miscellany_, vol. V. P. 113. 

Let us now see what progress these mysteries made in England. In the year1788 Dr. Mainauduc, who had been a pupil, first of Mesmer, and afterwardsof D'Eslon, arrived in Bristol, and gave public lectures upon magnetism. His success was quite extraordinary. People of rank and fortune hastenedfrom London to Bristol to be magnetised, or to place themselves under histuition. Dr. George Winter, in his _History of Animal Magnetism_, givesthe following list of them: "They amounted to one hundred andtwenty-seven, among whom there were one duke, one duchess, onemarchioness, two countesses, one earl, one baron, three baronesses, onebishop, five right honourable gentlemen and ladies, two baronets, sevenmembers of parliament, one clergyman, two physicians, seven surgeons, besides ninety-two gentlemen and ladies of respectability. " He afterwardsestablished himself in London, where he performed with equal success. 

He began by publishing proposals to the ladies for the formation of aHygeian Society. In this paper he vaunted highly the curative effects ofanimal magnetism, and took great credit to himself for being the firstperson to introduce it into England, and thus concluded: "As this methodof cure is not confined to sex or college education, and the fair sexbeing in general the most sympathising part of the creation, and mostimmediately concerned in the health and care of its offspring, I thinkmyself bound in gratitude to you, ladies, for the partiality you haveshewn me in midwifery, to contribute, as far as lies in my power, torender you additionally useful and valuable to the community. With thisview I propose forming my Hygeian Society, to be incorporated with that ofParis. As soon as twenty ladies have given in their names, the day shallbe appointed for the first meeting at my house, when they are to payfifteen guineas, which will include the whole expense. "

Hannah More, in a letter addressed to Horace Walpole in September 1788, speaks of the "demoniacal mummeries" of Dr. Mainauduc, and says he was ina fair way of gaining a hundred thousand pounds by them, as Mesmer haddone by his exhibitions in Paris. 

So much curiosity was excited by the subject, that, about the same time, aman named Holloway gave a course of lectures on animal magnetismin London, at the rate of five guineas for each pupil, and realised aconsiderable fortune. Loutherbourg the painter and his wife followed thesame profitable trade; and such was the infatuation of the people to bewitnesses of their strange manipulations, that at times upwards of threethousand persons crowded around their house at Hammersmith, unable to gainadmission. The tickets sold at prices varying from one to three guineas. Loutherbourg performed his cures by the touch, after the manner ofValentine Greatraks, and finally pretended to a divine mission. An accountof his miracles, as they were called, was published in 1789, entitled _AList of New Cures performed by Mr. And Mrs. De Loutherbourg, ofHammersmith Terrace, without Medicine; by a Lover of the Lamb of God. Dedicated to his Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury_. 

This "Lover of the Lamb of God" was a half-crazy old woman, named MaryPratt, who conceived for Mr. And Mrs. De Loutherbourg a veneration whichalmost prompted her to worship them. She chose for the motto of herpamphlet a verse in the thirteenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles:"Behold, ye despisers, and wonder and perish! for I will work a work inyour days which ye shall not believe, though a man declare it unto you. "Attempting to give a religious character to the cures of the painter, shethought a _woman_ was the proper person to make them known, since theapostle had declared that a _man_ should not be able to conquer theincredulity of the people. She stated, that from Christmas 1788 to July1789, De Loutherbourg and his wife had cured two thousand people, "havingbeen made _proper recipients to receive divine manuductions_; whichheavenly and divine influx, coming from the radix _God_, his DivineMajesty had most graciously bestowed upon them to diffuse healing to all, be they deaf, dumb, blind, lame, or halt. "

In her dedication to the Archbishop of Canterbury she implored him tocompose a new form of prayer, to be used in all churches and chapels, thatnothing might impede this inestimable gift from having its due course. Shefurther entreated all the magistrates and men of authority in the land towait on Mr. And Mrs. De Loutherbourg, to consult with them on theimmediate erection of a large hospital, with a pool of Bethesda attachedto it. All the magnetisers were scandalised at the preposterous jabber ofthis old woman, and De Loutherbourg appears to have left London to avoidher, --continuing, however, in conjunction with his wife, the fantastictricks which had turned the brain of this poor fanatic, and deluded manyothers who pretended to more sense than she had. 

From this period until 1798 magnetism excited little or no attention inEngland. An attempt to revive the belief in it was made in thatyear, but it was in the shape of mineral rather than of animal magnetism. One Benjamin Douglas Perkins, an American, practising as a surgeon inLeicester Square, invented and took out a patent for the celebrated"Metallic Tractors. " He pretended that these tractors, which were twosmall pieces of metal strongly magnetised, something resembling the steelplates which were first brought into notice by Father Hell, would curegout, rheumatism, palsy, and, in fact, almost every disease the humanframe was subject to, if applied externally to the afflicted part, andmoved about gently, touching the surface only. The most wonderful storiessoon obtained general circulation, and the press groaned with pamphlets, all vaunting the curative effects of the tractors, which were sold at fiveguineas the pair. Perkins gained money rapidly. Gouty subjects forgottheir pains in the presence of this new remedy; the rheumatism fled at itsapproach; and toothache, which is often cured by the mere sight of adentist, vanished before Perkins and his marvellous steel-plates. Thebenevolent Society of Friends, of whose body he was a member, warmlypatronised the invention. Desirous that the poor, who could not afford topay Mr. Perkins five guineas, or even five shillings for his tractors, should also share in the benefits of that sublime discovery, theysubscribed a large sum, and built an hospital, called the "PerkineanInstitution, " in which all comers might be magnetised free of cost. In thecourse of a few months they were in very general use, and their luckyinventor in possession of five thousand pounds. 

Dr. Haygarth, an eminent physician at Bath, recollecting the influence ofimagination in the cure of disease, hit upon an expedient to try the realvalue of the tractors. Perkins's cures were too well established to bedoubted; and Dr. Haygarth, without gain-saying them, quietly, but in theface of numerous witnesses, exposed the delusion under which peoplelaboured with respect to the curative medium. He suggested to Dr. Falconerthat they should make wooden tractors, paint them to resemble the steelones, and see if the very same effects would not be produced. Fivepatients were chosen from the hospital in Bath, upon whom to operate. Fourof them suffered severely from chronic rheumatism in the ankle, knee, wrist, and hip; and the fifth had been afflicted for several months withthe gout. On the day appointed for the experiments Dr. Haygarth and hisfriends assembled at the hospital, and with much solemnity brought forththe fictitious tractors. Four out of the five patients said their painswere immediately relieved; and three of them said they were not onlyrelieved but very much benefited. One felt his knee warmer, and said hecould walk across the room. He tried and succeeded, although on theprevious day he had not been able to stir. The gouty man felt hispains diminish rapidly, and was quite easy for nine hours, until he wentto bed, when the twitching began again. On the following day the realtractors were applied to all the patients, when they described theirsymptoms in nearly the same terms. 

To make still more sure, the experiment was tried in the Bristolinfirmary, a few weeks afterwards, on a man who had a rheumatic affectionin the shoulder, so severe as to incapacitate him from lifting his handfrom his knee. The fictitious tractors were brought and applied to theafflicted part, one of the physicians, to add solemnity to the scene, drawing a stop-watch from his pocket to calculate the time exactly, whileanother, with a pen in his hand, sat down to write the change of symptomsfrom minute to minute as they occurred. In less than four minutes the manfelt so much relieved, that he lifted his hand several inches without anypain in the shoulder!

An account of these matters was published by Dr. Haygarth, in a smallvolume entitled, _Of the Imagination, as a Cause and Cure of Disorders, exemplified by fictitious Tractors_. The exposure was a _coup de grace_ tothe system of Mr. Perkins. His friends and patrons, still unwilling toconfess that they had been deceived, tried the tractors upon sheep, cows, and horses, alleging that the animals received benefit from the metallicplates, but none at all from the wooden ones. But they found nobody tobelieve them; the Perkinean institution fell into neglect; and Perkinsmade his exit from England, carrying with him about ten thousand pounds, to soothe his declining years in the good city of Pennsylvania. 

Thus was magnetism laughed out of England for a time. In France therevolution left men no leisure for studying it. The _Sociétés del'Harmonie_ of Strasbourg, and other great towns lingered for a while, till sterner matters occupying men's attention, they were one after theother abandoned, both by pupils and professors. The system, thus drivenfrom the first two nations of Europe, took refuge among the dreamyphilosophers of Germany. There the wonders of the magnetic sleep grew moreand more wonderful every day; the patients acquired the gift of prophecy;their vision extended over all the surface of the globe; they could hearand see with their toes and fingers, and read unknown languages, andunderstand them too, by merely having the book placed on their stomachs. Ignorant peasants, when once entranced by the grand mesmeric fluid, couldspout philosophy diviner than Plato ever wrote, descant upon the mysteriesof the mind with more eloquence and truth than the profoundestmetaphysicians the world ever saw, and solve knotty points of divinitywith as much ease as waking men could undo their shoe-buckles!

During the first twelve years of the present century little was heard ofanimal magnetism in any country of Europe. Even the Germans forgot theirairy fancies, recalled to the knowledge of this every-day world by theroar of Napoleon's cannon and the fall or the establishment of kingdoms. During this period a cloud of obscurity hung over the science, which wasnot dispersed until M. Deleuze published, in 1813, his _Histoire Critiquedu Magnétisme Animal_. This work gave a new impulse to the half-forgottenfancy. Newspapers, pamphlets, and books again waged war upon each other onthe question of its truth or falsehood; and many eminent men in theprofession of medicine recommenced inquiry with an earnest design todiscover the truth. 

The assertions made in the celebrated treatise of Deleuze are thus summedup:[75] "There is a fluid continually escaping from the human body, " and"forming an atmosphere around us, " which, as "it has no determinedcurrent, " produces no sensible effects on surrounding individuals. It is, however, "capable of being directed by the will;" and, when so directed, "is sent forth in currents, " with a force corresponding to the energy wepossess. Its motion is "similar to that of the rays from burning bodies;""it possesses different qualities in different individuals. " It is capableof a high degree of concentration, "and exists also in trees. " The will ofthe magnetiser, "guided by a motion of the hand, several times repeated inthe same direction, " can fill a tree with this fluid. Most persons, whenthis fluid is poured into them from the body and by the will of themagnetiser, "feel a sensation of heat or cold" when he passes his handbefore them, without even touching them. Some persons, when sufficientlycharged with this fluid, fall into a state of somnambulism, or magneticecstasy; and when in this state, "they see the fluid encircling themagnetiser like a halo of light, and issuing in luminous streams from hismouth and nostrils, his head and hands, possessing a very agreeable smell, and communicating a particular taste to food and water. "

 [75] See the very clear, and dispassionate article upon the subject in the fifth volume (1830) of _The Foreign Review_, p. 96 et seq. 

One would think that these "notions" were quite enough to be insisted uponby any physician who wished to be considered sane; but they form only asmall portion of the wondrous things related by M. Deleuze. He furthersaid, "When magnetism produces somnambulism, the person who is in thisstate acquires a prodigious extension of all his faculties. Several of hisexternal organs, especially those of sight and hearing, become inactive;but the sensations which depend upon them take place internally. Seeing and hearing are carried on by the magnetic fluid, which transmitsthe impressions immediately, and without the intervention of any nerves ororgans directly to the brain. Thus the somnambulist, though his eyes andears are closed, not only sees and hears, but sees and hears much betterthan he does when awake. In all things he feels the will of themagnetiser, although that will be not expressed. He sees into the interiorof his own body, and the most secret organisation of the bodies of allthose who may be put _en rapport_, or in magnetic connexion, with him. Most commonly, he only sees those parts which are diseased and disordered, and intuitively prescribes a remedy for them. He has prophetic visions andsensations, which are generally true, but sometimes erroneous. Heexpresses himself with astonishing eloquence and facility. He is not freefrom vanity. He becomes a more perfect being of his own accord for acertain time, if guided wisely by the magnetiser, but wanders if he isill-directed. "

According to M. Deleuze, any person could become a magnetiser and producethese effects, by conforming to the following conditions, and acting uponthe following rules:

"Forget for a while all your knowledge of physics and metaphysics. 

"Remove from your mind all objections that may occur. 

"Imagine that it is in your power to take the malady in hand, and throw iton one side. 

"_Never reason for six weeks after you have commenced the study_. 

"Have an active desire to do good; a firm belief in the power ofmagnetism, and an entire confidence in employing it. In short, repel alldoubts; desire success, and act with simplicity and attention. "

That is to say, "be very credulous; be very persevering; reject all pastexperience, and do not listen to reason, " and you are a magnetiser afterM. Deleuze's own heart. 

Having brought yourself into this edifying state, "remove from the patientall persons who might be troublesome to you; keep with you only thenecessary witnesses--a single person if need be; desire them not to occupythemselves in any way with the processes you employ and the effects whichresult from them, but to join with you in the desire of doing good to yourpatient. Arrange yourself so as neither to be too hot nor too cold, and insuch a manner that nothing may obstruct the freedom of your motions; andtake precautions to prevent interruption during the sitting. Make yourpatient then sit as commodiously as possible, and place yourself oppositeto him, on a seat a little more elevated, in such a manner that his kneesmay be betwixt yours, and your feet at the side of his. First, request himto resign himself; to think of nothing; not to perplex himself byexamining the effects which may be produced; to banish all fear; tosurrender himself to hope, and not to be disturbed or discouraged if theaction of magnetism should cause in him momentary pains. After havingcollected yourself, take his thumbs between your fingers in such a waythat the internal part of your thumbs may be in contact with the internalpart of his, _and then fix your eyes upon him_! You must remain from twoto five minutes in this situation, or until you feel an equal heat betweenyour thumbs and his. This done, you will withdraw your hands, removingthem to the right and left; and at the same time turning them till theirinternal surface be outwards, and you will raise them to the height of thehead. You will now place them upon the two shoulders, and let them remainthere about a minute; afterwards drawing them gently along the arms to theextremities of the fingers, touching very slightly as you go. You willrenew this pass five or six times, always turning your hands, and removingthem a little from the body before you lift them. You will then place themabove the head; and after holding them there for an instant, lower them, passing them before the face, at the distance of one or two inches, downto the pit of the stomach. There you will stop them two minutes also, putting your thumbs upon the pit of the stomach and the rest of yourfingers below the ribs. You will then descend slowly along the body to theknees, or rather, if you can do so without deranging yourself, to theextremity of the feet. You will repeat the same processes several timesduring the remainder of the sitting. You will also occasionally approachyour patient, so as to place your hands behind his shoulders, in order todescend slowly along the spine of the back and the thighs, down to theknees or the feet. After the first passes, you may dispense with puttingyour hands upon the head, and may make the subsequent passes upon thearms, beginning at the shoulders, and upon the body, beginning at thestomach. "

Such was the process of magnetising recommended by Deleuze. That delicate, fanciful, and nervous women, when subjected to it, should have workedthemselves into convulsions will be readily believed by the sturdiestopponent of animal magnetism. To sit in a constrained posture--be staredout of countenance by a fellow who enclosed her knees between his, whilehe made _passes_ upon different parts of her body, was quite enough tothrow any weak woman into a fit, especially if she were predisposed tohysteria, and believed in the efficacy of the treatment. It is just asevident that those of stronger minds and healthier bodies should be sentto sleep by the process. That these effects have been produced by thesemeans, there are thousands of instances to shew. But are they testimony infavour of animal magnetism?--do they prove the existence of themagnetic fluid? It needs neither magnetism, nor ghost from the grave, totell us that silence, monotony, and long recumbency in one position, mustproduce sleep; or that excitement, imitation, and a strong imaginationacting upon a weak body, will bring on convulsions. 

M. Deleuze's book produced quite a sensation in France; the study wasresumed with redoubled vigour. In the following year, a journal wasestablished devoted exclusively to the science, under the title of_Annales du Magnétisme Animal_; and shortly afterwards appeared the_Bibliothèque du Magnétisme Animal_, and many others. About the same time, the Abbé Faria, "the man of wonders, " began to magnetise; and the beliefbeing that he had more of the mesmeric fluid about him, and a strongerwill, than most men, he was very successful in his treatment. Hisexperiments afford a convincing proof that imagination can operate all, and the supposed fluid none, of the results so confidently claimed asevidence of the new science. He placed his patients in an arm-chair; toldthem to shut their eyes; and then, in a loud commanding voice, pronouncedthe single word, "Sleep!" He used no manipulations whatever--had no_baquet_, or conductor of the fluid; but he nevertheless succeeded incausing sleep in hundreds of patients. He boasted of having in his timeproduced five thousand somnambulists by this method. It was oftennecessary to repeat the command three or four times; and if the patientstill remained awake, the abbé got out of the difficulty by dismissing himfrom the chair, and declaring that he was incapable of being acted on. Andit should be especially remarked that the magnetisers do not lay claim touniversal efficacy for their fluid; the strong and the healthy cannot bemagnetised; the incredulous cannot be magnetised; those who reason upon itcannot be magnetised; those who firmly believe in it can be magnetised;the weak in body can be magnetised, and the weak in mind can bemagnetised. And lest, from some cause or other, individuals of the latterclasses should resist the magnetic charm, the apostles of the sciencedeclare that there are times when even _they_ cannot be acted upon; thepresence of one scorner or unbeliever may weaken the potency of the fluidand destroy its efficacy. In M. Deleuze's instructions to a magnetiser, heexpressly says, "Never magnetise before inquisitive persons!"[76]

 [76] _Histoire Critique du Magnétisme Animal_, p. 60. 

Here we conclude the subject, as it would serve no good purpose to extendto greater length the history of Animal Magnetism; especially at a timewhen many phenomena, the reality of which it is impossible to dispute, aredaily occurring to startle and perplex the most learned, impartial, and truth-loving of mankind. Enough, however, has been statedto shew, that if there be some truth in magnetism, there has been mucherror, misconception, and exaggeration. Taking its history from thecommencement, it can hardly be said to have been without its uses. Toquote the words of Bailly, in 1784, "Magnetism has not been altogetherunavailing to the philosophy which condemns it: it is an additional factto record among the errors of the human mind, and a great experiment onthe strength of the imagination. " Over that vast inquiry of the influenceof mind over matter, --an inquiry which the embodied intellect of mankindwill never be able to fathom completely, --it will at least have thrown afeeble and imperfect light. It will have afforded an additional proof ofthe strength of the unconquerable will, and the weakness of matter ascompared with it; another illustration of the words of the inspiredPsalmist, that "we are fearfully and wonderfully made. "

[Illustration]

INFLUENCE OF POLITICS AND RELIGION ON THE HAIR AND BEARD. 

 Speak with respect and honour Both of the beard and the beard's owner. _Hudibras_. 

The famous declaration of St. Paul, "that long hair was a shame unto aman, " has been made the pretext for many singular enactments, both ofcivil and ecclesiastical governments. The fashion of the hair and the cutof the beard were state questions in France and England, from theestablishment of Christianity until the fifteenth century. 

We find, too, that in much earlier times, men were not permitted to do asthey liked with their own hair. Alexander the Great thought that thebeards of the soldiery afforded convenient handles for the enemy to layhold of, preparatory to cutting off their heads; and, with a view ofdepriving them of this advantage, he ordered the whole of his army to beclosely shaven. His notions of courtesy towards an enemy were quitedifferent from those entertained by the North American Indians, andamongst whom it is held a point of honour to allow one "chivalrous lock"to grow, that the foe, in taking the scalp, may have something to catchhold of. 

At one time, long hair was the symbol of sovereignty in Europe. We learnfrom Gregory of Tours, that, among the successors of Clovis, it was theexclusive privilege of the royal family to have their hair long andcurled. The nobles, equal to kings in power, would not shew anyinferiority in this respect, and wore not only their hair, but theirbeards of an enormous length. This fashion lasted, with but slightchanges, till the time of Louis the Debonnaire; but his successors, up toHugh Capet, wore their hair short, by way of distinction. Even the serfshad set all regulation at defiance, and allowed their locks and beards togrow. 

At the time of the invasion of England by William the Conqueror, theNormans wore their hair very short. Harold, in his progress towardsHastings, sent forward spies to view the strength and number of the enemy. They reported, amongst other things, on their return, that "the host didalmost seem to be priests, because they had all their face and both theirlips shaven. " The fashion among the English at the time was to wear thehair long upon the head and the upper lip, but to shave the chin. When thehaughty victors had divided the broad lands of the Saxon thanes andfranklins among them, when tyranny of every kind was employed to make theEnglish feel that they were indeed a subdued and broken nation, the latterencouraged the growth of their hair, that they might resemble as little aspossible their cropped and shaven masters. 

This fashion was exceedingly displeasing to the clergy, and prevailed to aconsiderable extent in France and Germany. Towards the end of the eleventhcentury, it was decreed by the pope, and zealously supported by theecclesiastical authorities all over Europe, that such persons as wore longhair should be excommunicated while living, and not be prayed for whendead. William of Malmesbury relates, that the famous St. Wulstan, Bishopof Worcester, was peculiarly indignant whenever he saw a man with longhair. He declaimed against the practice as one highly immoral, criminal, and beastly. He continually carried a small knife in his pocket, andwhenever any body offending in this respect knelt before him to receivehis blessing, he would whip it out slily, and cut off a handful, and then, throwing it in his face, tell him to cut off all the rest, or he would goto hell. 

But fashion, which at times it is possible to move with a wisp, standsfirm against a lever; and men preferred to run the risk of damnation toparting with the superfluity of their hair. In the time of Henry I. , Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, found it necessary to republish thefamous decree of excommunication and outlawry against the offenders; but, as the court itself had begun to patronise curls, the fulminations of theChurch were unavailing. Henry I. And his nobles wore their hair in longringlets down their backs and shoulders, and became a _scandalum magnatum_in the eyes of the godly. One Serlo, the king's chaplain, was so grievedin spirit at the impiety of his master, that he preached a sermon from thewell-known text of St. Paul before the assembled court, in which he drewso dreadful a picture of the torments that awaited them in the otherworld, that several of them burst into tears, and wrung their hair, as ifthey would have pulled it out by the roots. Henry himself was observed toweep. The priest, seeing the impression he had made, determined to strikewhile the iron was hot, and pulling a pair of scissors from his pocket, cut the king's hair in presence of them all. Several of the principalcourtiers consented to do the like, and for a short time long hairappeared to be going out of fashion. But the courtiers thought, after thefirst glow of their penitence had been cooled by reflection, that theclerical Delilah had shorn them of their strength, and in less than sixmonths they were as great sinners as ever. 

Anselm, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who had been a monk of Bec, inNormandy, and who had signalised himself at Rouen by his fierce oppositionto long hair, was still anxious to work a reformation in this matter. Buthis pertinacity was far from pleasing to the king, who had finally made uphis mind to wear ringlets. There were other disputes, of a more seriousnature, between them; so that when the archbishop died, the king was soglad to be rid of him, that he allowed the see to remain vacant for fiveyears. Still the cause had other advocates, and every pulpit in the landresounded with anathemas against that disobedient and long-hairedgeneration. But all was of no avail. Stowe, in writing of this period, asserts, on the authority of some more ancient chronicler, "that men, forgetting their birth, transformed themselves, by the length of theirhaires, into the semblance of woman kind;" and that when their hairdecayed from age, or other causes, "they knit about their heads certainrolls and braidings of false hair. " At last accident turned the tide offashion. A knight of the court, who was exceedingly proud of his beauteouslocks, dreamed one night that, as he lay in bed, the devil sprang uponhim, and endeavoured to choke him with his own hair. He started inaffright, and actually found that he had a great quantity of hair in hismouth. Sorely stricken in conscience, and looking upon the dream as awarning from heaven, he set about the work of reformation, and cut off hisluxuriant tresses the same night. The story was soon bruited abroad; ofcourse it was made the most of by the clergy, and the knight, being a manof influence and consideration, and the acknowledged leader of thefashion, his example, aided by priestly exhortations, was very generallyimitated. Men appeared almost as decent as St. Wulstan himself could havewished, the dream of a dandy having proved more efficacious than theentreaties of a saint. But, as Stowe informs us, "scarcely was one yearpast, when all that thought themselves courtiers fell into the formervice, and contended with women in their long haires. " Henry, the king, appears to have been quite uninfluenced by the dreams of others, for evenhis own would not induce him a second time to undergo a cropping frompriestly shears. It is said, that he was much troubled at this time bydisagreeable visions. Having offended the Church in this and otherrespects, he could get no sound, refreshing sleep, and used to imaginethat he saw all the bishops, abbots, and monks of every degree, standingaround his bed-side, and threatening to belabour him with their pastoralstaves; which sight, we are told, so frightened him, that he often startednaked out of his bed, and attacked the phantoms sword in hand. Grimbalde, his physician, who, like most of his fraternity at that day, was anecclesiastic, never hinted that his dreams were the result of a baddigestion, but told him to shave his head, be reconciled to the Church, and reform himself with alms and prayer. But he would not take this goodadvice, and it was not until he had been nearly drowned a year afterwards, in a violent storm at sea, that he repented of his evil ways, cut his hairshort, and paid proper deference to the wishes of the clergy. 

In France, the thunders of the Vatican with regard to long curly hair werehardly more respected than in England. Louis VII. , however, was moreobedient than his brother-king, and cropped himself as closely as a monk, to the great sorrow of all the gallants of his court. His queen, the gay, haughty, and pleasure-seeking Eleanor of Guienne, never admired him inthis trim, and continually reproached him with imitating, not only thehead-dress, but the asceticism of the monks. From this cause a coldnessarose between them. The lady proving at last unfaithful to her shaven andindifferent lord, they were divorced, and the kings of France lost therich provinces of Guienne and Poitou, which were her dowry. She soon afterbestowed her hand and her possessions upon Henry Duke of Normandy, afterwards Henry II. Of England, and thus gave the English sovereigns thatstrong footing in France which was for so many centuries the cause of suchlong and bloody wars between the nations. When the Crusades had drawn allthe smart young fellows into Palestine, the clergy did not find it sodifficult to convince the staid burghers who remained in Europe, of theenormity of long hair. During the absence of Richard Coeur de Lion, hisEnglish subjects not only cut their hair close, but shaved their faces. William Fitz-osbert, or Long-beard, the great demagogue of that day, reintroduced among the people who claimed to be of Saxon origin thefashion of long hair. He did this with the view of making them as unlikeas possible to the citizens and the Normans. He wore his own beard hangingdown to his waist, from whence the name by which he is best known toposterity. 

The Church never shewed itself so great an enemy to the beard as to longhair on the head. It generally allowed fashion to take its own course, both with regard to the chin and the upper lip. This fashion variedcontinually; for we find that, in little more than a century after thetime of Richard I. , when beards were short, that they had again become solong as to be mentioned in the famous epigram made by the Scots whovisited London in 1327, when David, son of Robert Bruce, was married toJoan, the sister of King Edward. This epigram, which was stuck on thechurch-door of St. Peter Stangate, ran as follows:

 "Long beards heartlesse, Painted hoods witlesse, Gray coats gracelesse, Make England thriftlesse. "

When the Emperor Charles V. Ascended the throne of Spain he had no beard. It was not to be expected that the obsequious parasites who alwayssurround a monarch, could presume to look more virile than their master. Immediately all the courtiers appeared beardless, with the exception ofsuch few grave old men as had outgrown the influence of fashion, and whohad determined to die bearded as they had lived. Sober people in generalsaw this revolution with sorrow and alarm, and thought that every manlyvirtue would be banished with the beard. It became at the time a commonsaying, --

 "Desde que no hay barba, no hay mas alma. " We have no longer souls since we have lost our beards. 

In France also the beard fell into disrepute after the death of Henry IV. , from the mere reason that his successor was too young to have one. Some ofthe more immediate friends of the great Béarnais, and his minister Sullyamong the rest, refused to part with their beards, notwithstanding thejeers of the new generation. 

Who does not remember the division of England into the two great partiesof Roundheads and Cavaliers? In those days every species of vice andiniquity was thought by the Puritans to lurk in the long curly tresses ofthe monarchists, while the latter imagined that their opponents were asdestitute of wit, of wisdom, and of virtue, as they were of hair. A man'slocks were the symbol of his creed, both in politics and religion. Themore abundant the hair, the more scant the faith; and the balder the head, the more sincere the piety. 

[Illustration: PETER THE GREAT. ]

But among all the instances of the interference of governments with men'shair, the most extraordinary, not only for its daring, but for itssuccess, is that of Peter the Great, in 1705. By this time fashion hadcondemned the beard in every other country in Europe, and with a voicemore potent than popes or emperors, had banished it from civilisedsociety. But this only made the Russians cling more fondly to theirancient ornament, as a mark to distinguish them from foreigners, whom theyhated. Peter, however, resolved that they should be shaven. If he had beena man deeply read in history, he might have hesitated before he attemptedso despotic an attack upon the time-hallowed customs and prejudices of hiscountrymen; but he was not. He did not know or consider the danger of theinnovation; he only listened to the promptings of his own indomitablewill, and his fiat went forth, that not only the army, but all ranks ofcitizens, from the nobles to the serfs, should shave their beards. Acertain time was given, that people might get over the first throes oftheir repugnance, after which every man who chose to retain his beard wasto pay a tax of one hundred roubles. The priests and the serfs were put ona lower footing, and allowed to retain theirs upon payment of a copeckevery time they passed the gate of a city. Great discontent existed inconsequence, but the dreadful fate of the Strelitzes was too recent to beforgotten, and thousands who had the will had not the courage to revolt. As is well remarked by a writer in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, theythought it wiser to cut off their beards than to run the risk of incensinga man who would make no scruple in cutting off their heads. Wiser, too, than the popes and bishops of a former age, he did not threaten them witheternal damnation, but made them pay in hard cash the penalty of theirdisobedience. For many years, a very considerable revenue was collectedfrom this source. The collectors gave in receipt for its payment a smallcopper coin, struck expressly for the purpose, and called the"_borodováia_, " or "the bearded. " On one side it bore the figure of anose, mouth, and moustaches, with a long bushy beard, surmounted by thewords, "_Deuyee Vyeatee_, " "money received;" the whole encircled by awreath, and stamped with the black eagle of Russia. On the reverse, itbore the date of the year. Every man who chose to wear a beard was obligedto produce this receipt on his entry into a town. Those who wererefractory, and refused to pay the tax, were thrown into prison. 

Since that day, the rulers of modern Europe have endeavoured to persuade, rather than to force, in all matters pertaining to fashion. The Vaticantroubles itself no more about beards or ringlets, and men may become hairyas bears, if such is their fancy, without fear of excommunication ordeprivation of their political rights. Folly has taken a new start, andcultivates the moustache. 

Even upon this point governments will not let men alone. Religion as yethas not meddled with it; but perhaps it will; and politics alreadyinfluence it considerably. Before the revolution of 1830, neither theFrench nor Belgian citizens were remarkable for their moustaches; but, after that event, there was hardly a shopkeeper either in Paris orBrussels whose upper lip did not suddenly become hairy with real or mockmoustaches. During a temporary triumph gained by the Dutch soldiers overthe citizens of Louvain, in October 1830, it became a standing jokeagainst the patriots, that they shaved their faces clean immediately; andthe wits of the Dutch army asserted that they had gathered moustachesenough from the denuded lips of the Belgians to stuff mattresses for allthe sick and wounded in their hospital. 

The last folly of this kind is still more recent. In the Germannewspapers, of August 1838, appeared an ordonnance, signed by the king ofBavaria, forbidding civilians, on any pretence whatever, to wearmoustaches, and commanding the police and other authorities to arrest, andcause to be shaved, the offending parties. "Strange to say, " adds _LeDroit_, the journal from which this account is taken, "moustachesdisappeared immediately, like leaves from the trees in autumn; every bodymade haste to obey the royal order, and not one person was arrested. "

The king of Bavaria, a rhymester of some celebrity, has taken a good manypoetical licences in his time. His licence in this matter appears neitherpoetical nor reasonable. It is to be hoped that he will not take it intohis royal head to make his subjects shave theirs; nothing but that iswanting to complete their degradation. 

[Illustration: BAYEUX TAPESTRY. [77]]

 [77] The above engraving, shewing two soldiers of William the Conqueror's army, is taken from the celebrated Bayeux Tapestry. --See _ante_, p. 297. 

END OF VOL. I. 

[Illustration: POPE URBAN PREACHING THE CRUSADES. ]

MEMOIRS

OF

EXTRAORDINARY POPULAR DELUSIONS. 

VOLUME II. 

[Illustration: VIEW IN THE THE HARZ MOUNTAINS. ]

LONDON:

OFFICE OF THE NATIONAL ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY, 227 STRAND. 

1852. 

MEMOIRS

OF

EXTRAORDINARY POPULAR DELUSIONS

AND THE

MADNESS OF CROWDS. 

BY CHARLES MACKAY, LL. D. 

AUTHOR OF "EGERIA, " "THE SALAMANDRINE, " ETC. 

ILLUSTRATED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS. 

VOL. II. 

 N'en déplaise à ces fous nommés sages de Grèce, En ce monde il n'est point de parfaite sagesse; Tous les hommes sont fous, et malgré tous leurs soîns Ne diffèrent entre eux que du plus ou du moins. BOILEAU. 

LONDON:

OFFICE OF THE NATIONAL ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY, 227 STRAND. 

1852. 

CONTENTS. 

THE CRUSADES. 

Different accounts of the Crusaders derived from History andRomance--Pilgrimages to the Holy Land first undertaken by converted Jewsand the very credulous--Increasing number of pilgrims every year--Relicsgreatly valued--Haroun al Reschid--The pilgrims taxed--Robert ofNormandy--The pilgrims persecuted by the Turks--Peter the Hermit--Hisfirst idea of rousing the powers of Christendom--His interview withSimeon--Peter the Hermit preaches the Holy War to all the nations ofChristendom--The Pope crosses the Alps--King Philip accused of adulterywith Bertrade de Montfort--The Council of Clermont--Oration of UrbanII. --The "Truce of God"--_Gautier sans Avoir_, or Walter thePennyless--Gottschalk--The arrival at Semlin--Peter the Hermit atNissa--At Constantinople--The Crusaders conducted in safety toConstantinople--Fresh hordes from Germany--Godfrey of Bouillon--Count ofVermandois--Tancred--The siege of Antioch--The Holy Lance--Fate of PeterBarthelemy--Siege of Jerusalem--St. Bernard--Second Crusade: Siege ofDamascus--Third Crusade: Death of Henry II. --Richard Coeur de Lion--FourthCrusade--Fifth Crusade: Constantinople assaulted--Sixth Crusade: Camheland Cohreddin--Seventh Crusade: Departure of Louis IX. For Cyprus--ForAcre--His death at Carthage--End of the Crusades

THE WITCH MANIA. 

Popular notions of the devil--Inferior demons--Demons of bothsexes--Demons preferring the night between Friday and Saturday--The devilin the shape of a goat--Sorcery--Execution of Joan of Arc--Witches burnedin Europe--Various charges of Witchcraft--Trois Echelles--The Witches ofWarbois--John Knox--Torture of Dr. Fian--The Lancashire Witches--MatthewHopkins--Burnings at Würzburg, at Lindheim, at Labourt--Request of theparliament of Rouen to the King, in 1670--Würzburg the scene of the lastcase of Witchcraft--The Witchcraft of Lady Hatton--Witchcraft at Hastingsand many other parts of England

THE SLOW POISONERS. 

Murder of Sir Thomas Overbury--Trial of Weston--Of Sir JervisElwes--Poisoning most prevalent in Italy--Poisons manufactured by LaTophania--Her death--Madame de Brinvilliers--The poisoning of her fatherand two brothers--Lavoisin and Lavigoreux

HAUNTED HOUSES. 

The haunted house in Aix-la-Chapelle--In Tours--The royal palace ofWoodstock a haunted house--The supposed ghosts at Tedworth--At CockLane--At Stockwell--Haunted house at Baldarroch

POPULAR FOLLIES OF GREAT CITIES. 

Cant phrases--"Quoz"--"What a shocking bad hat"--"Hookey Walker"--"Therehe goes with his eye out"--"Has your mother sold her mangle?"--"Does yourmother know you're out?"--"Tom and Jerry"--"Jim Crow"

POPULAR ADMIRATION OF GREAT THIEVES. 

Robin Hood--Claude Duval--Dick Turpin--Jonathan Wild--JackSheppard--Vidocq--Mausch Nadel--The Beggar's Opera--Rob Roy

DUELS AND ORDEALS. 

The origin of the Duello--All persons engaged in duelling excommunicatedby the Council of Trent--The fire ordeal--The water ordeal--TheCorsned--Duel between Ingelgerius and Gontran--Duel between François deVivonne and Guy de Chabot--L'Isle-Marivaut and Marolles--Richelieu--Duelbetween the Dukes De Beaufort and De Nemours--Laws against Duelling--Duelbetween Lord Sanquir and Turner--Between the Duke of Hamilton and LordMohun--German students inveterate Duellists

RELICS. 

The True Cross--Tears of our Saviour--The Santa Scala, or Holy Stairs--Themad Knight of Malta--Shakspeare's Mulberry-tree

LIST OF ENGRAVINGS IN VOL. II. 

Pope Urban preaching the first Crusade. --Frontispiece. 

View in the Harz Mountains. (Capt. Batty's _Hanoverian and SaxonScenery_. )--Title-page. 

Initial--Crusaders' Weapons of the eleventh century

Peter the Hermit preaching

Cathedral at Clermont. (Sommerard's _Album_)

Nicée, Asia Minor. (Leon de Laborde's _Voyage en Orient_)

Godfrey of Bouillon. (From the Statue by Simonis, Brussels)

Siege of Antioch

The Holy Lance. (Copied, in Hone's _Everyday Book_, from a very rare printpublished by the Ecclesiastics of Nuremberg)

Shrine of the Nativity, Bethlehem. (Laborde's _Voyage en Orient_)

Pilgrims' first sight of Jerusalem. (Print by Plüddemann)

Siege of Jerusalem

Jerusalem. (Gerhardt von Breydenbach's _Grand Voyage de Jherusalem_, 1517)

Bible of Baldwin's Queen. (Original in the British Museum)

Cathedral of Vezelai. (Sommerard's _Album_)

Pilgrim's Staff. (The _Archæologia_)

Damascus. (Laborde's _Voyage en Orient_)

Seal of Frederick Barbarossa. (Venetian History)

Henry II. (Stothard's _Monumental Effigies_)

Château of Gisors, Normandy. (_L'Univers Pittoresque_)

Philip Augustus. (Willemin's _Monumens Français inédits_)

The Island of Rhodes. (Royal Library, British Museum; print "in _Venetia_, 1570")

Richard I. And Berengaria. (Stothard's _Monumental Effigies_)

Bethlehem. (Laborde's _Voyage en Orient_)

Constantinople. (Print, Johann Baptist Hooman, Royal Library, BritishMuseum)

Templar and Hospitaller. (Fairholt's _Book of Costumes_)

Jaffa. (Laborde's _Voyage en Orient_)

Longespee or Longsword, Earl of Salisbury. (Effigy in Salisbury Cathedral)

Seal of Edward I. (From Great Seal)

Tomb of Queen Eleanor, Westminster Abbey. (Original sketch)

Arras. (Coney's _Cathedrals and Hotels de Ville_)

Philip IV. Of France

Joan of Arc

Gate of Constance. (Print, from drawing by Major Cockburn)

Charles IX. Of France. (French print by Adolph Brune)

Bishop Jewell

John Knox

Torture of the Boots. (Knight's _Pictorial Shakspere_)

James I. The Demonologist

Sir G. Mackenzie

Pietro d'Apone

Mathew Hopkins. (Print in Caulfield's _Remarkable Persons_, copied from arare print in the collection of J. Bindley, Esq. )

Sir Mathew Hale

Sir Thomas Brown

Lyons. (Prout's _Views in France_)

Bamberg. (Prout's _Views in Germany_)

Palais de Justice, Rouen. (Sommerard's _Arts du Moyen Age_)

Louis XIV. 

Würzburg. (Prout's _Views in Germany_)

Lady Hatton's House, Cross Street, Hatton Garden. (Original sketch)

Floating a Witch

Place de Grève, Paris. (Old print)

Sir T. Overbury. (An extremely rare print by R. Elstracke)

George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham

Lord Chief-Justice Coke

The Earl of Somerset

Countess of Somerset

Death of Dr. Lamb, St. Paul's Cross. (The Cross copied from print inWilkinson's _Londina Illustrata_)

The Bastille. (_Views of Public Edifices in Paris_, by MM. Legard etTestard)

Palace of Woodstock in 1714. (From a print of date)

Saint Louis of France. (Willemin's _Monumens Français inédits_)

Haunted House in Cock Lane. (Original sketch)

Room in the haunted house in Cock Lane. (Original sketch)

Sherwood Forest

Duel between Du Guesclin and Troussel

Duel between Ingelgerius and Gontran

Henry IV. 

Gallery in the Palace of Fontainebleau. (Sommerard's _Arts du Moyen Age_)

The Duke de Sully

Lord Bacon

[Illustration]

MEMOIRS

OF

EXTRAORDINARY POPULAR DELUSIONS. 

THE CRUSADES. 

 They heard, and up they sprang upon the wing Innumerable. As when the potent rod Of Amram's son, in Egypt's evil day, Waved round the coast, up call'd a pitchy cloud Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung Like night, and darken'd all the realm of Nile, So numberless were they. * * * * All in a moment through the gloom were seen Ten thousand banners rise into the air, With orient colours waving. With them rose A forest huge of spears; and thronging helms Appear'd, and serried shields, in thick array, Of depth immeasurable. _Paradise Lost_. 

[Illustration: E]

Every age has its peculiar folly; some scheme, project, or phantasy intowhich it plunges, spurred on either by the love of gain, the necessity ofexcitement, or the mere force of imitation. Failing in these, it has somemadness, to which it is goaded by political or religious causes, or bothcombined. Every one of these causes influenced the Crusades, and conspiredto render them the most extraordinary instance upon record of the extentto which popular enthusiasm can be carried. History in her solemn pageinforms us, that the Crusaders were but ignorant and savage men, thattheir motives were those of bigotry unmitigated, and that their pathwaywas one of blood and tears. Romance, on the other hand, dilates upon theirpiety and heroism, and portrays, in her most glowing and impassioned hues, their virtue and magnanimity, the imperishable honour they acquired forthemselves, and the great services they rendered to Christianity. In thefollowing pages we shall ransack the stores of both, to discover the truespirit that animated the motley multitude who took up arms in the serviceof the cross, leaving history to vouch for facts, but not disdaining theaid of contemporary poetry and romance, to throw light upon feelings, motives, and opinions. 

In order to understand thoroughly the state of public feeling in Europe atthe time when Peter the Hermit preached the holy war, it will be necessaryto go back for many years anterior to that event. We must makeacquaintance with the pilgrims of the eighth, ninth, and tenth centuries, and learn the tales they told of the dangers they had passed and thewonders they had seen. Pilgrimages to the Holy Land seem at first to havebeen undertaken by converted Jews, and by Christian devotees of livelyimagination, pining with a natural curiosity to visit the scenes which ofall others were most interesting in their eyes. The pious and the impiousalike flocked to Jerusalem, --the one class to feast their sight on thescenes hallowed by the life and sufferings of their Lord, and the other, because it soon became a generally received opinion, that such apilgrimage was sufficient to rub off the long score of sins, howeveratrocious. Another and very numerous class of pilgrims were the idle androving, who visited Palestine then as the moderns visit Italy orSwitzerland now, because it was the fashion, and because they might pleasetheir vanity by retailing, on their return, the adventures they had metwith. But the really pious formed the great majority. Every year theirnumbers increased, until at last they became so numerous as to be calledthe "armies of the Lord. " Full of enthusiasm, they set the dangers anddifficulties of the way at defiance, and lingered with holy rapture onevery scene described by the Evangelists. To them it was bliss indeed todrink the clear waters of the Jordan, or be baptised in the same streamwhere John had baptised the Saviour. They wandered with awe and pleasurein the purlieus of the Temple, on the solemn Mount of Olives, or the awfulCalvary, where a God had bled for sinful men. To these pilgrims everyobject was precious. Relics were eagerly sought after; flagons of waterfrom Jordan, or panniers of mould from the hill of the Crucifixion, werebrought home, and sold at extravagant prices to churches and monasteries. More apocryphal relics, such as the wood of the true cross, the tears ofthe Virgin Mary, the hems of her garments, the toe-nails and hair of theApostles--even the tents that Paul had helped to manufacture--wereexhibited for sale by the knavish in Palestine, and brought back to Europe"with wondrous cost and care. " A grove of a hundred oaks would not havefurnished all the wood sold in little morsels as remnants of the truecross; and the tears of Mary, if collected together, would have filled acistern. 

For upwards of two hundred years the pilgrims met with no impediment inPalestine. The enlightened Haroun Al Reschid, and his more immediatesuccessors, encouraged the stream which brought so much wealth into Syria, and treated the wayfarers with the utmost courtesy. The race of Fatemitecaliphs, --who, although in other respects as tolerant, were moredistressed for money, or more unscrupulous in obtaining it, than theirpredecessors of the house of Abbas, --imposed a tax of a bezant for eachpilgrim that entered Jerusalem. This was a serious hardship upon thepoorer sort, who had begged their weary way across Europe, and arrived atthe bourne of all their hopes without a coin. A great outcry wasimmediately raised, but still the tax was rigorously levied. The pilgrimsunable to pay were compelled to remain at the gate of the holy city untilsome rich devotee arriving with his train, paid the tax and let them in. Robert of Normandy, father of William the Conqueror, who, in common withmany other nobles of the highest rank, undertook the pilgrimage, found onhis arrival scores of pilgrims at the gate, anxiously expecting his comingto pay the tax for them. Upon no occasion was such a boon refused. 

The sums drawn from this source were a mine of wealth to the Moslemgovernors of Palestine, imposed as the tax had been at a time whenpilgrimages had become more numerous than ever. A strange idea had takenpossession of the popular mind at the close of the tenth and commencementof the eleventh century. It was universally believed that the end of theworld was at hand; that the thousand years of the Apocalypse were nearcompletion, and that Jesus Christ would descend upon Jerusalem to judgemankind. All Christendom was in commotion. A panic terror seized upon theweak, the credulous, and the guilty, who in those days formed more thannineteen-twentieths of the population. Forsaking their homes, kindred, andoccupation, they crowded to Jerusalem to await the coming of the Lord, lightened, as they imagined, of a load of sin by their weary pilgrimage. To increase the panic, the stars were observed to fall from heaven, earthquakes to shake the land, and violent hurricanes to blow down theforests. All these, and more especially the meteoric phenomena, werelooked upon as the forerunners of the approaching judgments. Not a meteorshot athwart the horizon that did not fill a district with alarm, and sendaway to Jerusalem a score of pilgrims, with staff in hand and wallet ontheir back, praying as they went for the remission of their sins. Men, women, and even children, trudged in droves to the holy city, inexpectation of the day when the heavens would open, and the Son of Goddescend in his glory. This extraordinary delusion, while it augmented thenumbers, increased also the hardships of the pilgrims. Beggars became sonumerous on all the highways between the west of Europe andConstantinople, that the monks, the great almsgivers upon these occasions, would have brought starvation within sight of their own doors, if they hadnot economised their resources, and left the devotees to shift forthemselves as they could. Hundreds of them were glad to subsist upon theberries that ripened by the road, who, before this great flux, might haveshared the bread and flesh of the monasteries. 

But this was not the greatest of their difficulties. On their arrival inJerusalem they found that a sterner race had obtained possession of theHoly Land. The caliphs of Bagdad had been succeeded by the harsh Turks ofthe race of Seljook, who looked upon the pilgrims with contempt andaversion. The Turks of the eleventh century were more ferocious and lessscrupulous than the Saracens of the tenth. They were annoyed at theimmense number of pilgrims who overran the country, and still more sobecause they shewed no intention of quitting it. The hourly expectation ofthe last judgment kept them waiting; and the Turks, apprehensive of beingat last driven from the soil by the swarms that were still arriving, heaped up difficulties in their way. Persecution of every kind awaitedthem. They were plundered, and beaten with stripes, and kept in suspensefor months at the gates of Jerusalem, unable to pay the golden bezant thatwas to procure them admission. 

When the first epidemic terror of the day of judgment began to subside, afew pilgrims ventured to return to Europe, their hearts big withindignation at the insults they had suffered. Every where as they passedthey related to a sympathising auditory the wrongs of Christendom. Strangeto say, even these recitals increased the mania for pilgrimage. Thegreater the dangers of the way, the fairer chance that sins of deep dyewould be atoned for. Difficulty and suffering only heightened the merit, and fresh hordes issued from every town and village, to win favour in thesight of heaven by a visit to the holy sepulchre. Thus did things continueduring the whole of the eleventh century. 

The train that was to explode so fearfully was now laid, and there wantedbut the hand to apply the torch. At last the man appeared upon the scene. Like all who have ever achieved so great an end, Peter the Hermit wasexactly suited to the age; neither behind it nor in advance of it; butacute enough to penetrate its mystery ere it was discovered by any other. Enthusiastic, chivalrous, bigoted, and, if not insane, not far removedfrom insanity, he was the very prototype of the time. True enthusiasm isalways persevering and always eloquent, and these two qualities wereunited in no common degree in the person of this extraordinary preacher. He was a monk of Amiens, and ere he assumed the hood had served as asoldier. He is represented as having been ill favoured and low in stature, but with an eye of surpassing brightness and intelligence. Having beenseized with the mania of the age, he visited Jerusalem, and remained theretill his blood boiled to see the cruel persecution heaped upon thedevotees. On his return home he shook the world by the eloquent story oftheir wrongs. 

Before entering into any further details of the marvellous results of hispreaching, it will be advisable to cast a glance at the state of the mindof Europe, that we may understand all the better the causes of hissuccess. First of all, there was the priesthood, which, exercising as itdid the most conspicuous influence upon the fortunes of society, claimsthe largest share of attention. Religion was the ruling idea of that day, and the only civiliser capable of taming such wolves as then constitutedthe flock of the faithful. The clergy were all in all; and though theykept the popular mind in the most slavish subjection with regard toreligious matters, they furnished it with the means of defence against allother oppression except their own. In the ecclesiastical ranks wereconcentrated all the true piety, all the learning, all the wisdom of thetime; and, as a natural consequence, a great portion of power, which theirvery wisdom perpetually incited them to extend. The people knew nothing ofkings and nobles, except in the way of injuries inflicted. The first ruledfor, or more properly speaking against, the barons, and the barons onlyexisted to brave the power of the kings, or to trample with their ironheels upon the neck of prostrate democracy. The latter had no friend butthe clergy, and these, though they necessarily instilled the superstitionfrom which they themselves were not exempt, yet taught the cheeringdoctrine that all men were equal in the sight of heaven. Thus, whileFeudalism told them they had no rights in this world, Religion told themthey had every right in the next. With this consolation they were for thetime content, for political ideas had as yet taken no root. When theclergy, for other reasons, recommended the Crusade, the people joined init with enthusiasm. The subject of Palestine filled all minds; thepilgrims' tales of two centuries warmed every imagination; and when theirfriends, their guides, and their instructors preached a war so much inaccordance with their own prejudices and modes of thinking, the enthusiasmrose into a frenzy. 

But while religion inspired the masses, another agent was at work upon thenobility. These were fierce and lawless; tainted with every vice, endowedwith no virtue, and redeemed by one good quality alone, that of courage. The only religion they felt was the religion of fear. That and theiroverboiling turbulence alike combined to guide them to the Holy Land. Mostof them had sins enough to answer for. They lived with their hand againstevery man, and with no law but their own passions. They set at defiancethe secular power of the clergy; but their hearts quailed at the awfuldenunciations of the pulpit with regard to the life to come. War was thebusiness and the delight of their existence; and when they were promisedremission of all their sins upon the easy condition of following theirfavourite bent, it is not to be wondered at that they rushed withenthusiasm to the onslaught, and became as zealous in the service of thecross as the great majority of the people, who were swayed by more purelyreligious motives. Fanaticism and the love of battle alike impelled themto the war, while the kings and princes of Europe had still another motivefor encouraging their zeal. Policy opened their eyes to the greatadvantages which would accrue to themselves by the absence of so manyrestless, intriguing, and bloodthirsty men, whose insolence it requiredmore than the small power of royalty to restrain within due bounds. Thusevery motive was favourable to the Crusades. Every class of society wasalike incited to join or encourage the war: kings and the clergy bypolicy, the nobles by turbulence and the love of dominion, and the peopleby religious zeal and the concentrated enthusiasm of two centuries, skilfully directed by their only instructors. 

It was in Palestine itself that Peter the Hermit first conceived the grandidea of rousing the powers of Christendom to rescue the Christians of theEast from the thraldom of the Mussulmans, and the sepulchre of Jesus fromthe rude hands of the infidel. The subject engrossed his whole mind. Evenin the visions of the night he was full of it. One dream made such animpression upon him, that he devoutly believed the Saviour of the worldhimself appeared before him, and promised him aid and protection in hisholy undertaking. If his zeal had ever wavered before, this was sufficientto fix it for ever. 

Peter, after he had performed all the penances and duties of hispilgrimage, demanded an interview with Simeon, the Patriarch of the GreekChurch at Jerusalem. Though the latter was a heretic in Peter's eyes, yethe was still a Christian, and felt as acutely as himself for thepersecutions heaped by the Turks upon the followers of Jesus. The goodprelate entered fully into his views, and, at his suggestion, wroteletters to the Pope, and to the most influential monarchs of Christendom, detailing the sorrows of the faithful, and urging them to take up arms intheir defence. Peter was not a laggard in the work. Taking an affectionatefarewell of the Patriarch, he returned in all haste to Italy. Pope UrbanII. Occupied the apostolic chair. It was at that time far from being aneasy seat. His predecessor Gregory had bequeathed him a host of disputeswith the Emperor Henry IV. Of Germany, and he had converted Philip I. OfFrance into an enemy by his strenuous opposition to an adulterousconnexion formed by that monarch. So many dangers encompassed him, thatthe Vatican was no secure abode, and he had taken refuge in Apulia, underthe protection of the renowned Robert Guiscard. Thither Peter appears tohave followed him, though in what spot their meeting took place is notstated with any precision by ancient chroniclers or modern historians. Urban received him most kindly; read, with tears in his eyes, the epistlefrom the Patriarch Simeon, and listened to the eloquent story of theHermit with an attention which shewed how deeply he sympathised with thewoes of the Christian Church. Enthusiasm is contagious; and the Popeappears to have caught it instantly from one whose zeal was so unbounded. Giving the Hermit full powers, he sent him abroad to preach the holy warto all the nations and potentates of Christendom. The Hermit preached, andcountless thousands answered to his call. France, Germany, and Italystarted at his voice, and prepared for the deliverance of Zion. One of theearly historians of the Crusade, who was himself an eye-witness of therapture of Europe, [1] describes the personal appearance of the Hermit atthis time. He says, that there appeared to be something of divine in everything which he said or did. The people so highly reverenced him, that theyplucked hairs from the mane of his mule that they might keep them asrelics. While preaching, he wore in general a woollen tunic, with adark-coloured mantle, which fell down to his heels. His arms and feet werebare; and he ate neither flesh nor bread, supporting himself chiefly uponfish and wine. "He set out, " says the chronicler, "from whence I know not;but we saw him passing through the towns and villages, preaching everywhere, and the people surrounding him in crowds, loading him withofferings, and celebrating his sanctity with such great praises, that Inever remember to have seen such honours bestowed upon any one. " Thus hewent on, untired, inflexible, and full of devotion, communicating his ownmadness to his hearers, until Europe was stirred from its very depths. 

 [1] Guibert de Nogent. 

While the Hermit was appealing with such signal success to the people, thePope appealed with as much success to those who were to become the chiefsand leaders of the expedition. His first step was to call a council atPlacentia, in the autumn of the year 1095. Here, in the assembly of theclergy, the Pope debated the grand scheme, and gave audience to emissarieswho had been sent from Constantinople by the Emperor of the East, todetail the progress made by the Turks in their design of establishingthemselves in Europe. The clergy were of course unanimous in support ofthe Crusade; and the council separated, each individual member of it beingempowered to preach it to his people. 

But Italy could not be expected to furnish all the aid required; and thePope crossed the Alps to inspire the fierce and powerful nobility andchivalrous population of Gaul. His boldness in entering the territory, andplacing himself in the power of his foe, King Philip of France, is not theleast surprising feature of his mission. Some have imagined that coolpolicy alone actuated him; while others assert that it was mere zeal, aswarm and as blind as that of Peter the Hermit. The latter opinion seems tobe the true one. Society did not calculate the consequences of what it wasdoing. Every man seemed to act from impulse only; and the Pope, inthrowing himself into the heart of France, acted as much from impulse asthe thousands who responded to his call. A council was eventually summonedto meet him at Clermont, in Auvergne, to consider the state of the Church, reform abuses, and, above all, make preparations for the war. It was inthe midst of an extremely cold winter, and the ground was covered withsnow. During seven days the council sat with closed doors, while immensecrowds from all parts of France flocked into the town, in expectation thatthe Pope himself would address the people. All the towns and villages formiles around were filled with the multitude; even the fields wereencumbered with people, who, unable to procure lodging, pitched theirtents under the trees and by the way-side. All the neighbourhood presentedthe appearance of a vast camp. 

[Illustration: THE CATHEDRAL OF CLERMONT. ]

During the seven days' deliberation, a sentence of excommunication waspassed upon King Philip for adultery with Bertrade de Montfort, Countessof Anjou, and for disobedience to the supreme authority of the apostolicsee. This bold step impressed the people with reverence for so stern aChurch, which in the discharge of its duty shewed itself no respecter ofpersons. Their love and their fear were alike increased, and they wereprepared to listen with more intense devotion to the preaching of sorighteous and inflexible a pastor. The great square before the cathedralchurch of Clermont became every instant more densely crowded as the hourdrew nigh when the Pope was to address the populace. Issuing from thechurch in his full canonicals, surrounded by his cardinals and bishops inall the splendour of Romish ecclesiastical costume, the Pope stood beforethe populace on a high scaffolding erected for the occasion, and coveredwith scarlet cloth. A brilliant array of bishops and cardinals surroundedhim; and among them, humbler in rank, but more important in the world'seye, the Hermit Peter, dressed in his simple and austere habiliments. Historians differ as to whether or not Peter addressed the crowd, but asall agree that he was present, it seems reasonable to suppose that hespoke. But it was the oration of the Pope that was most important. As helifted up his hands to ensure attention, every voice immediately becamestill. He began by detailing the miseries endured by their brethren in theHoly Land; how the plains of Palestine were desolated by the outrageousheathen, who with the sword and the firebrand carried wailing into thedwellings and flames into the possessions of the faithful; how Christianwives and daughters were defiled by pagan lust; how the altars of the trueGod were desecrated, and the relics of the saints trodden under foot. "You, " continued the eloquent pontiff (and Urban II. Was one of the mosteloquent men of the day), "you, who hear me, and who have received thetrue faith, and been endowed by God with power, and strength, andgreatness of soul, --whose ancestors have been the prop of Christendom, andwhose kings have put a barrier against the progress of the infidel, --Icall upon you to wipe off these impurities from the face of the earth, andlift your oppressed fellow-Christians from the depths into which they havebeen trampled. The sepulchre of Christ is possessed by the heathen, thesacred places dishonoured by their vileness. Oh, brave knights andfaithful people! offspring of invincible fathers! ye will not degeneratefrom your ancient renown. Ye will not be restrained from embarking in thisgreat cause by the tender ties of wife or little ones, but will rememberthe words of the Saviour of the world himself, 'Whosoever loves father andmother more than me is not worthy of me. Whosoever shall abandon for myname's sake his house, or his brethren, or his sisters, or his father, orhis mother, or his wife, or his children, or his lands, shall receive ahundredfold, and shall inherit eternal life. '"

The warmth of the Pontiff communicated itself to the crowd, and theenthusiasm of the people broke out several times ere he concluded hisaddress. He went on to portray, not only the spiritual but the temporaladvantages that would accrue to those who took up arms in the service ofthe cross. Palestine was, he said, a land flowing with milk and honey, andprecious in the sight of God, as the scene of the grand events which hadsaved mankind. That land, he promised, should be divided among them. Moreover, they should have full pardon for all their offences, eitheragainst God or man. "Go, then, " he added, "in expiation of your sins; andgo assured, that after this world shall have passed away, imperishableglory shall be yours in the world which is to come. " The enthusiasm was nolonger to be restrained, and loud shouts interrupted the speaker; thepeople exclaiming as if with one voice, "_Dieu le veult! Dieu le veult!_"With great presence of mind Urban took advantage of the outburst, and assoon as silence was obtained, continued: "Dear brethren, to-day is shewnforth in you that which the Lord has said by his Evangelist, 'When two orthree are gathered together in my name, there will I be in the midst ofthem to bless them. ' If the Lord God had not been in your souls, you wouldnot all have pronounced the same words; or rather God himself pronouncedthem by your lips, for it was he that put them in your hearts. Be they, then, your war-cry in the combat, for those words came forth from God. Letthe army of the Lord, when it rushes upon his enemies, shout but that onecry, '_Dieu le veult! Dieu le veult!_' Let whoever is inclined to devotehimself to this holy cause make it a solemn engagement, and bear the crossof the Lord either on his breast or his brow till he set out; and let himwho is ready to begin his march place the holy emblem on his shoulders, inmemory of that precept of our Saviour, 'He who does not take up his crossand follow me is not worthy of me. '"

The news of this council spread to the remotest parts of Europe in anincredibly short space of time. Long before the fleetest horseman couldhave brought the intelligence, it was known by the people in distantprovinces; a fact which was considered as nothing less than supernatural. But the subject was in every body's mouth, and the minds of men wereprepared for the result. The enthusiastic merely asserted what theywished, and the event tallied with their prediction. This was, however, quite enough in those days for a miracle, and as a miracle every oneregarded it. 

For several months after the Council of Clermont, France and Germanypresented a singular spectacle. The pious, the fanatic, the needy, thedissolute, the young and the old, even women and children, and the haltand lame, enrolled themselves by hundreds. In every village the clergywere busied in keeping up the excitement, promising eternal rewards tothose who assumed the red cross, and fulminating the most awfuldenunciations against all the worldly-minded who refused or evenhesitated. Every debtor who joined the Crusade was freed by the papaledict from the claims of his creditors; outlaws of every grade were madeequal with the honest upon the same conditions. The property of those whowent was placed under the protection of the Church, and St. Paul and St. Peter themselves were believed to descend from their high abode, to watchover the chattels of the absent pilgrims. Signs and portents were seen inthe air, to increase the fervour of the multitude. An aurora-borealis ofunusual brilliancy appeared, and thousands of the Crusaders came out togaze upon it, prostrating themselves upon the earth in adoration. It wasthought to be a sure prognostic of the interposition of the Most High; anda representation of his armies fighting with and overthrowing theinfidels. Reports of wonders were every where rife. A monk had seen twogigantic warriors on horseback, the one representing a Christian and theother a Turk, fighting in the sky with flaming swords, the Christian ofcourse overcoming the Paynim. Myriads of stars were said to have fallenfrom heaven, each representing the fall of a Pagan foe. It was believed atthe same time that the Emperor Charlemagne would rise from the grave, andlead on to victory the embattled armies of the Lord. A singular feature ofthe popular madness was the enthusiasm of the women. Every where theyencouraged their lovers and husbands to forsake all things for the holywar. Many of them burned the sign of the cross upon their breasts andarms, and coloured the wound with a red dye, as a lasting memorial oftheir zeal. Others, still more zealous, impressed the mark by the samemeans upon the tender limbs of young children and infants at the breast. 

Guibert de Nogent tells of a monk who made a large incision upon hisforehead in the form of a cross, which he coloured with some powerfulingredient, telling the people that an angel had done it when he wasasleep. This monk appears to have been more of a rogue than a fool, for hecontrived to fare more sumptuously than any of his brother pilgrims, uponthe strength of his sanctity. The Crusaders every where gave him presentsof food and money, and he became quite fat ere he arrived at Jerusalem, notwithstanding the fatigues of the way. If he had acknowledged in thefirst place that he had made the wound himself, he would not have beenthought more holy than his fellows; but the story of the angel was aclincher. 

All those who had property of any description rushed to the mart to changeit into hard cash. Lands and houses could be had for a quarter of theirvalue, while arms and accoutrements of war rose in the same proportion. Corn, which had been excessively dear in anticipation of a year ofscarcity, suddenly became plentiful; and such was the diminution in thevalue of provisions, that seven sheep were sold for five _deniers_. [2] Thenobles mortgaged their estates for mere trifles to Jews and unbelievers, or conferred charters of immunity upon the towns and communes within theirfiefs, for sums which, a few years previously, they would have rejectedwith disdain. The farmer endeavoured to sell his plough, and the artisanhis tools, to purchase a sword for the deliverance of Jerusalem. Womendisposed of their trinkets for the same purpose. During the spring andsummer of this year (1096) the roads teemed with crusaders, all hasteningto the towns and villages appointed as the rendezvous of the district. Some were on horseback, some in carts, and some came down the rivers inboats and rafts, bringing their wives and children, all eager to go toJerusalem. Very few knew where Jerusalem was. Some thought it fiftythousand miles away, and others imagined that it was but a month'sjourney; while at sight of every town or castle the children exclaimed, "Is that Jerusalem? Is that the city?"[3] Parties of knights and noblesmight be seen travelling eastward, and amusing themselves as they wentwith the knightly diversion of hawking, to lighten the fatigues of theway. 

 [2] Guibert de Nogent. 

 [3] Guibert de Nogent. 

Guibert de Nogent, who did not write from hearsay, but from actualobservation, says the enthusiasm was so contagious, that when any oneheard the orders of the Pontiff, he went instantly to solicit hisneighbours and friends to join with him in "the way of God, " for so theycalled the proposed expedition. The Counts Palatine were full of thedesire to undertake the journey, and all the inferior knights wereanimated with the same zeal. Even the poor caught the flame so ardently, that no one paused to think of the inadequacy of his means, or to considerwhether he ought to yield up his farm, his vineyard, or his fields. Eachone set about selling his property at as low a price as if he had beenheld in some horrible captivity, and sought to pay his ransom without lossof time. Those who had not determined upon the journey joked and laughedat those who were thus disposing of their goods at such ruinous prices, prophesying that the expedition would be miserable and their return worse. But they held this language only for a day; the next they were suddenlyseized with the same frenzy as the rest. Those who had been loudest intheir jeers gave up all their property for a few crowns, and set out withthose they had so laughed at a few hours before. In most cases the laughwas turned against them; for when it became known that a man washesitating, his more zealous neighbours sent him a present of aknitting-needle or a distaff, to shew their contempt of him. There was noresisting this; so that the fear of ridicule contributed its faircontingent to the armies of the Lord. 

Another effect of the Crusade was, the religious obedience with which itinspired the people and the nobility for that singular institution "TheTruce of God. " At the commencement of the eleventh century, the clergy ofFrance, sympathising for the woes of the people, but unable to diminishthem, by repressing the rapacity and insolence of the feudal chiefs, endeavoured to promote universal good-will by the promulgation of thefamous "Peace of God. " All who conformed to it bound themselves by oathnot to take revenge for any injury, not to enjoy the fruits of propertyusurped from others, nor to use deadly weapons; in reward of which theywould receive remission of all their sins. However benevolent theintention of this "Peace, " it led to nothing but perjury, and violencereigned as uncontrolled as before. In the year 1041, another attempt wasmade to soften the angry passions of the semi-barbarous chiefs, and the"Truce of God" was solemnly proclaimed. The _truce_ lasted from theWednesday evening to the Monday morning of every week, in which intervalit was strictly forbidden to recur to violence on any pretext, or to seekrevenge for any injury. It was impossible to civilise men by these means. Few even promised to become peaceable for so unconscionable a period asfive days a-week; or if they did, they made ample amends on the two daysleft open to them. The truce was afterwards shortened from the Saturdayevening to the Monday morning; but little or no diminution of violence andbloodshed was the consequence. At the Council of Clermont, Urban II. Againsolemnly proclaimed the truce. So strong was the religious feeling, thatevery one hastened to obey. All minor passions disappeared before thegrand passion of crusading. The feudal chief ceased to oppress, the robberto plunder, the people to complain; but one idea was in all hearts, andthere seemed to be no room for any other. 

The encampments of these heterogeneous multitudes offered a singularaspect. Those vassals who ranged themselves under the banners of theirlord erected tents around his castle; while those who undertook the war ontheir own account constructed booths and huts in the neighbourhood of thetowns or villages, preparatory to their joining some popular leader of theexpedition. The meadows of France were covered with tents. As thebelligerents were to have remission of all their sins on their arrival inPalestine, hundreds of them gave themselves up to the most unboundedlicentiousness. The courtesan, with the red cross upon her shoulders, plied her shameless trade with sensual pilgrims without scruple on eitherside; the lover of good cheer gave loose rein to his appetite, anddrunkenness and debauchery flourished. Their zeal in the service of theLord was to wipe out all faults and follies, and they had the same suretyof salvation as the rigid anchorite. This reasoning had charms for theignorant, and the sounds of lewd revelry and the voice of prayer rose atthe same instant from the camp. 

It is now time to speak of the leaders of the expedition. Great multitudesranged themselves under the command of Peter the Hermit, whom, as theoriginator, they considered the most appropriate leader of the war. Othersjoined the banner of a bold adventurer, whom history has dignified with noother name than that of Gautier sans Avoir, or Walter the Pennyless, butwho is represented as having been of noble family, and well skilled in theart of war. A third multitude from Germany flocked around the standard ofa monk named Gottschalk, of whom nothing is known except that he was afanatic of the deepest dye. All these bands, which together are said tohave amounted to three hundred thousand men, women, and children, werecomposed of the vilest rascality of Europe. Without discipline, principle, or true courage, they rushed through the nations like a pestilence, spreading terror and death wherever they went. The first multitude thatset forth was led by Walter the Pennyless early in the spring of 1096, within a very few months after the Council of Clermont. Each man of thatirregular host aspired to be his own master. Like their nominal leader, each was poor to penury, and trusted for subsistence on his journey to thechances of the road. Rolling through Germany like a tide, they enteredHungary, where, at first, they were received with some degree of kindnessby the people. The latter had not yet caught sufficient of the fire ofenthusiasm to join the Crusade themselves, but were willing enough toforward the cause by aiding those embarked in it. Unfortunately this goodunderstanding did not last long. The swarm were not contented with foodfor their necessities, but craved for luxuries also. They attacked andplundered the dwellings of the country people, and thought nothing ofmurder where resistance was offered. On their arrival before Semlin, theoutraged Hungarians collected in large numbers, and, attacking the rear ofthe crusading host, slew a great many of the stragglers, and, taking awaytheir arms and crosses, affixed them as trophies to the walls of the city. Walter appears to have been in no mood or condition to make reprisals; forhis army, destructive as a plague of locusts when plunder urged them on, were useless against any regular attack from a determined enemy. Theirrear continued to be thus harassed by the wrathful Hungarians until theywere fairly out of their territory. On his entrance into Bulgaria, Waltermet with no better fate. The cities and towns refused to let him pass; thevillages denied him provisions; and the citizens and country peopleuniting, slaughtered his followers by hundreds. The progress of the armywas more like a retreat than an advance; but as it was impossible to standstill, Walter continued his course till he arrived at Constantinople witha force which famine and the sword had diminished to one-third of itsoriginal number. 

The greater multitude, led by the enthusiastic Hermit, followed close uponhis heels, with a bulky train of baggage, and women and childrensufficient to form a host of themselves. If it were possible to find arabble more vile than the army of Walter the Pennyless, it was that led byPeter the Hermit. Being better provided with means, they were not reducedto the necessity of pillage in their progress through Hungary; and hadthey taken any other route than that which led through Semlin, mightperhaps have traversed the country without molestation. On their arrivalbefore that city, their fury was raised at seeing the arms and red crossesof their predecessors hanging as trophies over the gates. Their pent-upferocity exploded at the sight. The city was tumultuously attacked, andthe besiegers entering, not by dint of bravery, but of superior numbers, it was given up to all the horrors which follow when victory, brutality, and licentiousness are linked together. Every evil passion was allowed torevel with impunity, and revenge, lust, and avarice, --each had itshundreds of victims in unhappy Semlin. Any maniac can kindle aconflagration, but it may require many wise men to put it out. Peter theHermit had blown the popular fury into a flame, but to cool it again wasbeyond his power. His followers rioted unrestrained, until the fear ofretaliation warned them to desist. When the king of Hungary was informedof the disasters of Semlin, he marched with a sufficient force to chastisethe Hermit, who, at the news, broke up his camp and retreated towards theMorava, a broad and rapid stream that joins the Danube a few miles to theeastward of Belgrade. Here a party of indignant Bulgarians awaited him, and so harassed him, as to make the passage of the river a task both ofdifficulty and danger. Great numbers of his infatuated followers perishedin the waters, and many fell under the swords of the Bulgarians. Theancient chronicles do not mention the amount of the Hermit's loss at thispassage, but represent it in general terms as very great. 

At Nissa, the Duke of Bulgaria fortified himself, in fear of an assault;but Peter, having learned a little wisdom from experience, thought it bestto avoid hostilities. He passed three nights in quietness under the walls, and the duke, not wishing to exasperate unnecessarily so fierce andrapacious a host, allowed the townspeople to supply them with provisions. Peter took his departure peaceably on the following morning; but someGerman vagabonds, falling behind the main body of the army, set fire tothe mills and house of a Bulgarian, with whom, it appears, they had hadsome dispute on the previous evening. The citizens of Nissa, who hadthroughout mistrusted the Crusaders, and were prepared for the worst, sallied out immediately, and took signal vengeance. The spoilers were cutto pieces, and the townspeople pursuing the Hermit, captured all the womenand children who had lagged in the rear, and a great quantity of baggage. Peter hereupon turned round and marched back to Nissa, to demandexplanation of the Duke of Bulgaria. The latter fairly stated theprovocation given, and the Hermit could urge nothing in palliation of sogross an outrage. A negotiation was entered into, which promised to besuccessful, and the Bulgarians were about to deliver up the women andchildren, when a party of undisciplined Crusaders, acting solely upontheir own suggestion, endeavoured to scale the walls and seize upon thetown. Peter in vain exerted his authority; the confusion became general, and after a short but desperate battle, the Crusaders threw down theirarms, and fled in all directions. Their vast host was completely routed, the slaughter being so great among them, as to be counted, not byhundreds, but by thousands. 

It is said that the Hermit fled from this fatal field to a forest a fewmiles from Nissa, abandoned by every human creature. It would be curiousto know whether, after so dire a reverse, "His enpierced breast Sharp sorrow did in thousand pieces rive, "

or whether his fiery zeal still rose superior to calamity, and picturedthe eventual triumph of his cause. He, so lately the leader of a hundredthousand men, was now a solitary skulker in the forests, liable at everyinstant to be discovered by some pursuing Bulgarian, and cut off in midcareer. Chance at last brought him within sight of an eminence, where twoor three of his bravest knights had collected five hundred of thestragglers. These gladly received the Hermit, and a consultation havingtaken place, it was resolved to gather together the scattered remnants ofthe army. Fires were lighted on the hill, and scouts sent out in alldirections for the fugitives. Horns were sounded at intervals, to makeknown that friends were near, and before nightfall the Hermit saw himselfat the head of seven thousand men. During the succeeding day, he wasjoined by twenty thousand more, and with this miserable remnant of hisforce, he pursued his route towards Constantinople. The bones of the restmouldered in the forests of Bulgaria. 

On his arrival at Constantinople, where he found Walter the Pennylessawaiting him, he was hospitably received by the Emperor Alexius. It mighthave been expected that the sad reverses they had undergone would havetaught his followers common prudence; but, unhappily for them, theirturbulence and love of plunder was not to be restrained. Although theywere surrounded by friends, by whom all their wants were liberallysupplied, they could not refrain from rapine. In vain the Hermit exhortedthem to tranquillity; he possessed no more power over them, in subduingtheir passions, than the obscurest soldier of the host. They set fire toseveral public buildings in Constantinople out of pure mischief, andstripped the lead from the roofs of the churches, which they afterwardssold for old metal in the purlieus of the city. From this time may bedated the aversion which the Emperor Alexius entertained for theCrusaders, and which was afterwards manifested in all his actions, evenwhen he had to deal with the chivalrous and more honourable armies whicharrived after the Hermit. He seems to have imagined that the Turksthemselves were enemies less formidable to his power than theseoutpourings of the refuse of Europe: he soon found a pretext to hurry theminto Asia Minor. Peter crossed the Bosphorus with Walter, but the excessesof his followers were such, that, despairing of accomplishing any good endby remaining at their head, he left them to themselves, and returned toConstantinople, on the pretext of making arrangements with the governmentof Alexius for a proper supply of provisions. The Crusaders, forgettingthat they were in the enemy's country, and that union, above all things, was desirable, gave themselves up to dissensions. Violent disputes arosebetween the Lombards and Normans commanded by Walter the Pennyless, andthe Franks and Germans led out by Peter. The latter separated themselvesfrom the former, and, choosing for their leader one Reinaldo, or Reinhold, marched forward, and took possession of the fortress of Exorogorgon. TheSultan Solimaun was on the alert, with a superior force. A party ofCrusaders, which had been detached from the fort, and stationed at alittle distance as an ambuscade, were surprised and cut to pieces, andExorogorgon invested on all sides. The siege was protracted for eightdays, during which the Christians suffered the most acute agony from thewant of water. It is hard to say how long the hope of succour or theenergy of despair would have enabled them to hold out: their treacherousleader cut the matter short by renouncing the Christian faith, anddelivering up the fort into the hands of the sultan. He was followed bytwo or three of his officers; all the rest, refusing to become Mahometans, were ruthlessly put to the sword. Thus perished the last wretched remnantof the vast multitude which had traversed Europe with Peter the Hermit. 

Walter the Pennyless and his multitude met as miserable a fate. On thenews of the disasters of Exorogorgon, they demanded to be led instantlyagainst the Turks. Walter, who only wanted good soldiers to have made agood general, was cooler of head, and saw all the dangers of such a step. His force was wholly insufficient to make any decisive movement in acountry where the enemy was so much superior, and where, in case ofdefeat, he had no secure position to fall back upon; and he thereforeexpressed his opinion against advancing until the arrival ofreinforcements. This prudent counsel found no favour: the army loudlyexpressed their dissatisfaction at their chief, and prepared to marchforward without him. Upon this, the brave Walter put himself at theirhead, and rushed to destruction. Proceeding towards Nice, the modernIsnik, he was intercepted by the army of the sultan: a fierce battleensued, in which the Turks made fearful havoc; out of twenty-five thousandChristians, twenty-two thousand were slain, and among them Gautierhimself, who fell pierced by seven mortal wounds. The remaining threethousand retreated upon Civitot, where they entrenched themselves. 

[Illustration: ISNIK. ]

Disgusted as was Peter the Hermit at the excesses of the multitude, who, at his call, had forsaken Europe, his heart was moved with grief and pityat their misfortunes. All his former zeal revived: casting himself at thefeet of the Emperor Alexius, he implored him, with tears in his eyes, tosend relief to the few survivors at Civitot. The emperor consented, and aforce was sent, which arrived just in time to save them from destruction. The Turks had beleaguered the place, and the Crusaders were reduced to thelast extremity. Negotiations were entered into, and the last threethousand were conducted in safety to Constantinople. Alexius had sufferedtoo much by their former excesses to be very desirous of retaining them inhis capital: he therefore caused them all to be disarmed, and, furnishingeach with a sum of money, he sent them back to their own country. 

While these events were taking place, fresh hordes were issuing from thewoods and wilds of Germany, all bent for the Holy Land. They werecommanded by a fanatical priest, named Gottschalk, who, like Gautier andPeter the Hermit, took his way through Hungary. History is extremelymeagre in her details of the conduct and fate of this host, which amountedto at least one hundred thousand men. Robbery and murder seem to havejourneyed with them, and the poor Hungarians were rendered almostdesperate by their numbers and rapacity. Karloman, the king of thecountry, made a bold effort to get rid of them; for the resentment of hispeople had arrived at such a height, that nothing short of the totalextermination of the Crusaders would satisfy them. Gottschalk had to paythe penalty, not only for the ravages of his own bands, but for those ofthe swarms that had come before him. He and his army were induced, by somemeans or other, to lay down their arms: the savage Hungarians, seeing themthus defenceless, set upon them, and slaughtered them in great numbers. How many escaped their arrows we are not informed; but not one of themreached Palestine. 

Other swarms, under nameless leaders, issued from Germany and France, morebrutal and more frantic than any that had preceded them. Their fanaticismsurpassed by far the wildest freaks of the followers of the Hermit. Inbands, varying in numbers from one to five thousand, they traversed thecountry in all directions, bent upon plunder and massacre. They wore thesymbol of the Crusade upon their shoulders, but inveighed against thefolly of proceeding to the Holy Land to destroy the Turks, while they leftbehind them so many Jews, the still more inveterate enemies of Christ. They swore fierce vengeance against this unhappy race, and murdered allthe Hebrews they could lay their hands on, first subjecting them to themost horrible mutilation. According to the testimony of Albert Aquensis, they lived among each other in the most shameless profligacy, and theirvice was only exceeded by their superstition. Whenever they were in searchof Jews, they were preceded by a goose and goat, which they believed to beholy, and animated with divine power to discover the retreats of theunbelievers. In Germany alone they slaughtered more than a thousand Jews, notwithstanding all the efforts of the clergy to save them. So dreadfulwas the cruelty of their tormentors, that great numbers of Jews committedself-destruction to avoid falling into their hands. 

Again it fell to the lot of the Hungarians to deliver Europe from thesepests. When there were no more Jews to murder, the bands collected in onebody, and took the old route to the Holy Land, a route stained with theblood of three hundred thousand who had gone before, and destined also toreceive theirs. The number of these swarms has never been stated; but somany of them perished in Hungary, that contemporary writers, despairing ofgiving any adequate idea of their multitudes, state that the fields wereactually heaped with their corpses, and that for miles in its course thewaters of the Danube were dyed with their blood. It was at Mersburg, onthe Danube, that the greatest slaughter took place, --a slaughter so greatas to amount almost to extermination. The Hungarians for a while disputedthe passage of the river, but the Crusaders forced their way across, andattacking the city with the blind courage of madness, succeeded in makinga breach in the walls. At this moment of victory an unaccountable fearcame over them. Throwing down their arms, they fled panic-stricken, no oneknew why, and no one knew whither. The Hungarians followed, sword in hand, and cut them down without remorse, and in such numbers, that the stream ofthe Danube is said to have been choked up by their unburied bodies. 

This was the worst paroxysm of the madness of Europe; and this passed, herchivalry stepped upon the scene. Men of cool heads, mature plans, andinvincible courage stood forward to lead and direct the grand movement ofEurope upon Asia. It is upon these men that romance has lavished her mostadmiring epithets, leaving to the condemnation of history the vileness andbrutality of those who went before. Of these leaders the mostdistinguished were Godfrey of Bouillon duke of Lorraine, and Raymond countof Toulouse. Four other chiefs of the royal blood of Europe also assumedthe cross, and led each his army to the Holy Land; Hugh count ofVermandois, brother of the king of France; Robert duke of Normandy, theelder brother of William Rufus; Robert count of Flanders, and Bohemundprince of Tarentum, eldest son of the celebrated Robert Guiscard. Thesemen were all tinged with the fanaticism of the age, but none of them actedentirely from religious motives. They were neither utterly reckless likeGautier sans Avoir, crazy like Peter the Hermit, nor brutal likeGottschalk the Monk, but possessed each of these qualities in a milderform; their valour being tempered by caution, their religious zeal byworldly views, and their ferocity by the spirit of chivalry. They sawwhither led the torrent of the public will; and it being neither theirwish nor their interest to stem it, they allowed themselves to be carriedwith it, in the hope that it would lead them at last to a haven ofaggrandisement. Around them congregated many minor chiefs, the flower ofthe nobility of France and Italy, with some few from Germany, England, andSpain. It was wisely conjectured that armies so numerous would find adifficulty in procuring provisions if they all journeyed by the same road. They therefore resolved to separate; Godfrey de Bouillon proceedingthrough Hungary and Bulgaria, the Count of Toulouse through Lombardy andDalmatia, and the other leaders through Apulia to Constantinople, wherethe several divisions were to reunite. The forces under these leaders havebeen variously estimated. The Princess Anna Comnena talks of them ashaving been as numerous as the sands on the sea-shore, or the stars in thefirmament. Fulcher of Chartres is more satisfactory, and exaggerates lessmagnificently, when he states, that all the divisions, when they had satdown before Nice in Bithynia, amounted to one hundred thousand horsemen, and six hundred thousand men on foot, exclusive of the priests, women, andchildren. Gibbon is of opinion that this amount is exaggerated; but thinksthe actual numbers did not fall very far short of the calculation. ThePrincess Anna afterwards gives the number of those under Godfrey ofBouillon as eighty thousand foot and horse; and supposing that each of theother chiefs led an army as numerous, the total would be near half amillion. This must be over rather than under the mark, as the army ofGodfrey of Bouillon was confessedly the largest when it set out, andsuffered less by the way than any other. 

[Illustration: GODFREY DE BOUILLON. ]

The Count of Vermandois was the first who set foot on the Grecianterritory. On his arrival at Durazzo he was received with every mark ofrespect and courtesy by the agents of the emperor, and his followers wereabundantly supplied with provisions. Suddenly, however, and without causeassigned, the count was arrested by order of the Emperor Alexius, andconveyed a close prisoner to Constantinople. Various motives have beenassigned by different authors as having induced the emperor to thistreacherous and imprudent proceeding. By every writer he has beencondemned for so flagrant a breach of hospitality and justice. The mostprobable reason for his conduct appears to be that suggested by Guibert ofNogent, who states that Alexius, fearful of the designs of the Crusadersupon his throne, resorted to this extremity in order afterwards to forcethe count to take the oath of allegiance to him, as the price of hisliberation. The example of a prince so eminent as the brother of the kingof France, would, he thought, be readily followed by the other chiefs ofthe Crusade. In the result he was wofully disappointed, as every mandeserves to be who commits positive evil that doubtful good may ensue. Butthis line of policy accorded well enough with the narrowmindedness of theemperor, who, in the enervating atmosphere of his highly civilised andluxurious court, dreaded the influx of the hardy and ambitious warriors ofthe West, and strove to nibble away by unworthy means the power which hehad not energy enough to confront. If danger to himself had existed fromthe residence of the chiefs in his dominions, he might easily have avertedit, by the simple means of placing himself at the head of the Europeanmovement, and directing its energies to their avowed object, the conquestof the Holy Land. But the emperor, instead of being, as he might havebeen, the lord and leader of the Crusades, which he had himself aided inno inconsiderable degree to suscitate by his embassies to the Pope, becamethe slave of men who hated and despised him. No doubt the barbarousexcesses of the followers of Gautier and Peter the Hermit made him lookupon the whole body of them with disgust, but it was the disgust of alittle mind, which is glad of any excuse to palliate or justify its ownirresolution and love of ease. 

Godfrey of Bouillon traversed Hungary in the most quiet and orderlymanner. On his arrival at Mersburg he found the country strewed with themangled corpses of the Jew-killers, and demanded of the king of Hungaryfor what reason his people had set upon them. The latter detailed theatrocities they had committed, and made it so evident to Godfrey that theHungarians had only acted in self-defence, that the high-minded leaderdeclared himself satisfied, and passed on without giving or receivingmolestation. On his arrival at Philippopoli he was informed for the firsttime of the imprisonment of the count of Vermandois. He immediately sentmessengers to the emperor, demanding the count's release, and threatening, in case of refusal, to lay waste the country with fire and sword. Afterwaiting a day at Philippopoli, he marched on to Adrianople, where he wasmet by his messengers returning with the emperor's refusal. Godfrey, thebravest and most determined of the leaders of the Crusade, was not a manto swerve from his word, and the country was given up to pillage. Alexiushere committed another blunder. No sooner did he learn from direexperience that the Crusader was not an utterer of idle threats, than heconsented to the release of the prisoner. As he had been unjust in thefirst instance, he became cowardly in the second, and taught his enemies(for so the Crusaders were forced to consider themselves) a lesson whichthey took care to remember to his cost, that they could hope nothing fromhis sense of justice, but every thing from his fears. Godfrey remainedencamped for several weeks in the neighbourhood of Constantinople, to thegreat annoyance of Alexius, who sought by every means to extort from himthe homage he had extorted from Vermandois. Sometimes he acted as if atopen and declared war with the Crusaders, and sent his troops againstthem. Sometimes he refused to supply them with food, and ordered themarkets to be shut against them, while at other times he was all for peaceand good-will, and sent costly presents to Godfrey. The honest, straightforward Crusader was at last so wearied by his false kindness, andso pestered by his attacks, that, allowing his indignation to get thebetter of his judgment, he gave up the country around Constantinople to beplundered by his soldiers. For six days the flames of the farm-housesaround struck terror into the heart of Alexius; but, as Godfreyanticipated, they convinced him of his error. Fearing that Constantinopleitself would be the next object of attack, he sent messengers to demand aninterview with Godfrey, offering at the same time to leave his son as ahostage for his good faith. Godfrey agreed to meet him; and, whether toput an end to these useless dissensions, or for some other unexplainedreason, he rendered homage to Alexius as his liege lord. He was thereuponloaded with honours, and, according to a singular custom of that age, underwent the ceremony of the "adoption of honour" as son to the emperor. Godfrey and his brother Baudouin de Bouillon conducted themselves withproper courtesy on this occasion, but were not able to restrain theinsolence of their followers, who did not conceive themselves bound tokeep any terms with a man so insincere as he had shewn himself. Onebarbarous chieftain, Count Robert of Paris, carried his insolence so faras to seat himself upon the throne; an insult which Alexius merelyresented with a sneer, but which did not induce him to look with lessmistrust upon the hordes that were still advancing. 

It is impossible, notwithstanding his treachery, to avoid feeling somecompassion for the emperor, whose life at this time was rendered one longscene of misery by the presumption of the Crusaders, and his notaltogether groundless fears of the evil they might inflict upon him, should any untoward circumstance force the current of their ambition tothe conquest of his empire. His daughter Anna Comnena feelingly deploreshis state of life at this time, and a learned German[4], in a recent work, describes it, on the authority of the princess, in the following manner:

"To avoid all occasion of offence to the Crusaders, Alexius complied withall their whims and their (on many occasions) unreasonable demands, evenat the expense of great bodily exertion, at a time when he was sufferingseverely under the gout, which eventually brought him to his grave. NoCrusader who desired an interview with him was refused access; he listenedwith the utmost patience to the long-winded harangues which theirloquacity or zeal continually wearied him with; he endured, withoutexpressing any impatience, the unbecoming and haughty language which theypermitted themselves to employ towards him, and severely reprimanded hisofficers when they undertook to defend the dignity of the imperial stationfrom these rude assaults, for he trembled with apprehension at theslightest disputes, lest they might become the occasion of greater evil. Though the counts often appeared before him with trains altogetherunsuitable to their dignity and to his--sometimes with an entire troop, which completely filled the royal apartment--the emperor held his peace. He listened to them at all hours; he often seated himself on his throne atday-break to attend to their wishes and requests, and the evening twilightsaw him still in the same place. Very frequently he could not snatch timeto refresh himself with meat and drink. During many nights he could notobtain any repose, and was obliged to indulge in an unrefreshing sleepupon his throne, with his head resting on his hands. Even this slumber wascontinually disturbed by the appearance and harangues of somenewly-arrived rude knights. When all the courtiers, wearied out by theefforts of the day and by night-watching, could no longer keep themselveson their feet, and sank down exhausted--some upon benches and others onthe floor--Alexius still rallied his strength to listen with seemingattention to the wearisome chatter of the Latins, that they might have nooccasion or pretext for discontent. In such a state of fear and anxiety, how could Alexius comport himself with dignity and like an emperor?"

 [4] M. Wilken's _Geschichte der Kreuzzüge_. 

Alexius, however, had himself to blame, in a great measure, for theindignities he suffered: owing to his insincerity, the Crusadersmistrusted him so much, that it became at last a common saying, that theTurks and Saracens were not such inveterate foes to the Western or LatinChristians as the Emperor Alexius and the Greeks[5]. It would be needlessin this sketch, which does not profess to be so much a history of theCrusades, as of the madness of Europe, from which they sprang, to detailthe various acts of bribery and intimidation, cajolery and hostility, bywhich Alexius contrived to make each of the leaders in succession, as theyarrived, take the oath of allegiance to him as their suzerain. One way oranother he exacted from each the barren homage on which he had set hisheart, and they were then allowed to proceed into Asia Minor. One only, Raymond de St. Gilles count of Toulouse, obstinately refused the homage. 

 [5] Wilken. 

Their residence in Constantinople was productive of no good to the armiesof the cross. Bickerings and contentions on the one hand, and theinfluence of a depraved and luxurious court on the other, destroyed theelasticity of their spirits, and cooled the first ardour of theirenthusiasm. At one time the army of the Count of Toulouse was on the pointof disbanding itself; and, had not their leader energetically removed themacross the Bosphorus, this would have been the result. Once in Asia, theirspirits in some degree revived, and the presence of danger and difficultynerved them to the work they had undertaken. The first operation of thewar was the siege of Nice, to gain possession of which all their effortswere directed. 

Godfrey of Bouillon and the Count of Vermandois were joined under itswalls by each host in succession as it left Constantinople. Among thecelebrated Crusaders who fought at this siege we find, besides the leadersalready mentioned, the brave and generous Tancred, whose name and famehave been immortalised in the _Gerusalemme Liberata_, the valorous Bishopof Puy, Baldwin, afterwards king of Jerusalem, and Peter the Hermit, nowan almost solitary soldier, shorn of all the power and influence he hadformerly possessed. Kilij Aslaun the sultan of Roum and chief of theSeljukian Turks, whose deeds, surrounded by the false halo of romance, arefamiliar to the readers of Tasso, under the name of Soliman, marched todefend this city, but was defeated after several obstinate engagements, inwhich the Christians shewed a degree of heroism that quite astonished him. The Turkish chief had expected to find a wild undisciplined multitude, like that under Peter the Hermit, without leaders capable of enforcingobedience; instead of which, he found the most experienced leaders of theage at the head of armies that had just fanaticism enough to be ferocious, but not enough to render them ungovernable. In these engagements, manyhundreds fell on both sides; and on both sides the most revoltingbarbarity was practised: the Crusaders cut off the heads of the fallenMussulmans, and sent them in panniers to Constantinople, as trophies oftheir victory. After the temporary defeat of Kilij Aslaun, the siege ofNice was carried on with redoubled vigour. The Turks defended themselveswith the greatest obstinacy, and discharged showers of poisoned arrowsupon the Crusaders. When any unfortunate wretch was killed under thewalls, they let down iron hooks from above, and drew the body up, which, after stripping and mutilating, they threw back again at the besiegers. The latter were well supplied with provisions, and for six-and-thirty daysthe siege continued without any relaxation of the efforts on either side. Many tales are told of the almost superhuman heroism of the Christianleaders--how one man put a thousand to flight; and how the arrows of thefaithful never missed their mark. One anecdote of Godfrey of Bouillon, related by Albert of Aix, is worth recording, not only as shewing the highopinion entertained of his valour, but as shewing the contagious credulityof the armies--a credulity which as often led them to the very verge ofdefeat, as it incited them to victory. One Turk, of gigantic stature, tookhis station day by day on the battlements of Nice, and, bearing anenormous bow, committed great havoc among the Christian host. Not a shafthe sped but bore death upon its point; and although the Crusaders aimedrepeatedly at his breast, and he stood in the most exposed position, theirarrows fell harmless at his feet. He seemed to be invulnerable to attack;and a report was soon spread abroad, that he was no other than the ArchFiend himself, and that mortal hand could not prevail against him. Godfreyof Bouillon, who had no faith in the supernatural character of theMussulman, determined, if possible, to put an end to the dismay which wasrapidly paralysing the exertions of his best soldiers. Taking a hugecross-bow, he stood forward in front of the army, to try the steadiness ofhis hand against the much-dreaded archer: the shaft was aimed directly athis heart, and took fatal effect. The Moslem fell amid the groans of thebesieged, and the shouts of _Deus adjuva! Deus adjuva!_ the war-cry of thebesiegers. 

At last the Crusaders imagined that they had overcome all obstacles, andwere preparing to take possession of the city, when, to their greatastonishment, they saw the flag of the Emperor Alexius flying from thebattlements. An emissary of the emperor, named Faticius or Tatin, hadcontrived to gain admission, with a body of Greek troops, at a point whichthe Crusaders had left unprotected, and had persuaded the Turks tosurrender to him rather than to the crusading forces. The greatestindignation prevailed in the army when this stratagem was discovered, andthe soldiers were, with the utmost difficulty, prevented from renewing theattack and besieging the Greek emissary. 

The army, however, continued its march, and, by some means or other, wasbroken into two divisions; some historians say accidentally, [6] whileothers affirm by mutual consent, and for the convenience of obtainingprovisions on the way. [7] The one division was composed of the forcesunder Bohemund, Tancred, and the Duke of Normandy; while the other, whichtook a route at some distance on the right, was commanded by Godfrey ofBouillon and the other chiefs. The Sultan of Roum, who, after his lossesat Nice, had been silently making great efforts to crush the Crusaders atone blow, collected in a very short time all the multitudinous tribes thatowed him allegiance, and with an army which, according to a moderatecalculation, amounted to two hundred thousand men, chiefly cavalry, hefell upon the first division of the Christian host in the valley ofDorylæum. It was early in the morning of the 1st of July 1097, when theCrusaders saw the first companies of the Turkish horsemen pouring downupon them from the hills. Bohemund had hardly time to set himself inorder, and transport his sick and helpless to the rear, when theoverwhelming force of the Orientals was upon him. The Christian army, composed principally of men on foot, gave way on all sides, and the hoofsof the Turkish steeds, and the poisoned arrows of their bowmen, mowed themdown by hundreds. After having lost the flower of their chivalry, theChristians retreated upon their baggage, when a dreadful slaughter tookplace. Neither women nor children, nor the sick, were spared. Just as theywere reduced to the last extremity, Godfrey of Bouillon and the Count ofToulouse made their appearance on the field, and turned the tide ofbattle. After an obstinate engagement the Turks fled, and their rich campfell into the hands of the enemy. The loss of the Crusaders amounted toabout four thousand men, with several chiefs of renown, among whom wereCount Robert of Paris and William the brother of Tancred. The loss of theTurks, which did not exceed this number, taught them to pursue a differentmode of warfare. The sultan was far from being defeated. With his stillgigantic army, he laid waste all the country on either side of theCrusaders. The latter, who were unaware of the tactics of the enemy, foundplenty of provisions in the Turkish camp; but so far from economisingthese resources, they gave themselves up for several days to the mostunbounded extravagance. They soon paid dearly for their heedlessness. Inthe ravaged country of Phrygia, through which they advanced towardsAntiochetta, they suffered dreadfully for want of food for themselves andpasture for their cattle. Above them was a scorching sun, almostsufficient of itself to dry up the freshness of the land, a task which thefirebrands of the sultan had but too surely effected, and water was not tobe had after the first day of their march. The pilgrims died at the rateof five hundred a day. The horses of the knights perished on the road, andthe baggage which they had aided to transport was either placed upon dogs, sheep, and swine, or abandoned altogether. In some of the calamities thatafterwards befell them, the Christians gave themselves up to the mostreckless profligacy; but upon this occasion, the dissensions whichprosperity had engendered were all forgotten. Religion, often disregarded, arose in the stern presence of misfortune, and cheered them as they diedby the promises of eternal felicity. 

 [6] Fulcher of Chartres; Guibert de Nogent; Vital. 

 [7] William of Tyre; Mills; Wilken, &c. 

At length they reached Antiochetta, where they found water in abundance, and pastures for their expiring cattle. Plenty once more surrounded them, and here they pitched their tents. Untaught by the bitter experience offamine, they again gave themselves up to luxury and waste. 

On the 18th of October they sat down before the strong city of Antioch, the siege of which, and the events to which it gave rise, are among themost extraordinary incidents of the Crusade. The city, which is situatedon an eminence, and washed by the river Orontes, is naturally a verystrong position, and the Turkish garrison were well supplied withprovisions to endure a long siege. In this respect the Christians werealso fortunate, but unluckily for themselves, unwise. Their force amountedto three hundred thousand fighting men; and we are informed by Raymondd'Argilles, that they had so much provision, that they threw away thegreater part of every animal they killed, being so dainty, that they wouldonly eat particular parts of the beast. So insane was their extravagance, that in less than ten days famine began to stare them in the face. Aftermaking a fruitless attempt to gain possession of the city by a _coup demain_, they, starving themselves, sat down to starve out the enemy. Butwith want came a cooling of enthusiasm. The chiefs began to grow weary ofthe expedition. Baldwin had previously detached himself from the main bodyof the army, and, proceeding to Edessa, had intrigued himself into thesupreme power in that little principality. The other leaders were animatedwith less zeal than heretofore. Stephen of Chartres and Hugh of Vermandoisbegan to waver, unable to endure the privations which their own folly andprofusion had brought upon them. Even Peter the Hermit became sick atheart ere all was over. When the famine had become so urgent that theywere reduced to eat human flesh in the extremity of their hunger, Bohemundand Robert of Flanders set forth on an expedition to procure a supply. They were in a slight degree successful; but the relief they brought wasnot economised, and in two days they were as destitute as before. Faticius, the Greek commander and representative of Alexius, deserted withhis division under pretence of seeking for food, and his example wasfollowed by various bodies of Crusaders. 

Misery was rife among those who remained, and they strove to alleviate itby a diligent attention to signs and omens. These, with extraordinaryvisions seen by the enthusiastic, alternately cheered and depressed themaccording as they foretold the triumph or pictured the reverses of thecross. At one time a violent hurricane arose, levelling great trees withthe ground, and blowing down the tents of the Christian leaders. Atanother time an earthquake shook the camp, and was thought toprognosticate some great impending evil to the cause of Christendom. But acomet which appeared shortly afterwards raised them from the despondencyinto which they had fallen; their lively imaginations making it assume theform of a flaming cross leading them on to victory. Famine was not theleast of the evils they endured. Unwholesome food, and the impure air fromthe neighbouring marshes, engendered pestilential diseases, which carriedthem off more rapidly than the arrows of the enemy. A thousand of themdied in a day, and it became at last a matter of extreme difficulty toafford them burial. To add to their misery, each man grew suspicious ofhis neighbour; for the camp was infested by Turkish spies, who conveyeddaily to the besieged intelligence of the movements and distresses of theenemy. With a ferocity, engendered by despair, Bohemund caused two spies, whom he had detected, to be roasted alive in presence of the army, andwithin sight of the battlements of Antioch. But even this example failedto reduce their numbers, and the Turks continued to be as well informed asthe Christians themselves of all that was passing in the camp. 

The news of the arrival of a reinforcement of soldiers from Europe, withan abundant stock of provisions, came to cheer them when reduced to thelast extremity. The welcome succour landed at St. Simeon, the port ofAntioch, and about six miles from that city. Thitherwards the famishingCrusaders proceeded in tumultuous bands, followed by Bohemund and theCount of Toulouse, with strong detachments of their retainers and vassals, to escort the supplies in safety to the camp. The garrison of Antioch, forewarned of this arrival, was on the alert, and a corps of Turkisharchers was despatched to lie in ambuscade among the mountains andintercept their return. Bohemund, laden with provisions, was encounteredin the rocky passes by the Turkish host. Great numbers of his followerswere slain, and he himself had just time to escape to the camp with thenews of his defeat. Godfrey of Bouillon, the Duke of Normandy, and theother leaders had heard the rumour of this battle, and were at thatinstant preparing for the rescue. The army was immediately in motion, animated both by zeal and by hunger, and marched so rapidly as tointercept the victorious Turks before they had time to reach Antioch withtheir spoil. A fierce battle ensued, which lasted from noon till the goingdown of the sun. The Christians gained and maintained the advantage, eachman fighting as if upon himself alone had depended the fortune of the day. Hundreds of Turks perished in the Orontes, and more than two thousand wereleft dead upon the field of battle. All the provision was recaptured andbrought in safety to the camp, whither the Crusaders returned singing_Alleluia!_ or shouting _Deus adjuva! Deus adjuva!_

This relief lasted for some days, and, had it been duly economised, wouldhave lasted much longer; but the chiefs had no authority, and were unableto exercise any control over its distribution. Famine again approachedwith rapid strides, and Stephen count of Blois, not liking the prospect, withdrew from the camp with four thousand of his retainers, andestablished himself at Alexandretta. The moral influence of this desertionwas highly prejudicial upon those who remained; and Bohemund, the mostimpatient and ambitious of the chiefs, foresaw that, unless speedilychecked, it would lead to the utter failure of the expedition. It wasnecessary to act decisively; the army murmured at the length of the siege, and the sultan was collecting his forces to crush them. Against theefforts of the Crusaders Antioch might have held out for months; buttreason within effected that which courage without might have striven forin vain. 

Baghasihan, the Turkish prince or emir of Antioch, had under his commandan Armenian of the name of Phirouz, whom he had entrusted with the defenceof a tower on that part of the city wall which overlooked the passes ofthe mountains. Bohemund, by means of a spy who had embraced the Christianreligion, and to whom he had given his own name at baptism, kept up adaily communication with this captain, and made him the most magnificentpromises of reward, if he would deliver up his post to the Crusaders. Whether the proposal was first made by Bohemund or by the Armenian isuncertain, but that a good understanding soon existed between them isundoubted; and a night was fixed for the execution of the project. Bohemund communicated the scheme to Godfrey and the Count of Toulouse, with the stipulation that, if the city were won, he, as the soul of theenterprise, should enjoy the dignity of Prince of Antioch. The otherleaders hesitated: ambition and jealousy prompted them to refuse their aidin furthering the views of the intriguer. More mature considerationdecided them to acquiesce, and seven hundred of the bravest knights werechosen for the expedition, the real object of which, for fear of spies, was kept a profound secret from the rest of the army. When all was ready, a report was promulgated that the seven hundred were intended to form anambuscade for a division of the sultan's army, which was stated to beapproaching. 

Every thing favoured the treacherous project of the Armenian captain, who, on his solitary watch-tower, received due intimation of the approach ofthe Crusaders. The night was dark and stormy; not a star was visibleabove, and the wind howled so furiously as to overpower all other sounds:the rain fell in torrents, and the watchers on the towers adjoining tothat of Phirouz could not hear the tramp of the armed knights for thewind, nor see them for the obscurity of the night and the dismalness ofthe weather. When within shot of the walls, Bohemund sent forward aninterpreter to confer with the Armenian. The latter urged them to makehaste, and seize the favourable interval, as armed men, with lightedtorches, patrolled the battlements every half hour, and at that instantthey had just passed. The chiefs were instantly at the foot of the wall:Phirouz let down a rope; Bohemund attached it to the end of a ladder ofhides, which was then raised by the Armenian, and held while the knightsmounted. A momentary fear came over the spirits of the adventurers, andevery one hesitated. At last Bohemund, [8] encouraged by Phirouz fromabove, ascended a few steps on the ladder, and was followed by Godfrey, Count Robert of Flanders, and a number of other knights. As they advanced, others pressed forward, until their weight became too great for theladder, which, breaking, precipitated about a dozen of them to the ground, where they fell one upon the other, making a great clatter with theirheavy coats of mail. For a moment they thought that all was lost; but thewind made so loud a howling as it swept in fierce gusts through themountain gorges--and the Orontes, swollen by the rain, rushed so noisilyalong--that the guards heard nothing. The ladder was easily repaired, andthe knights ascended two at a time, and reached the platform in safety. When sixty of them had thus ascended, the torch of the coming patrol wasseen to gleam at the angle of the wall. Hiding themselves behind abuttress, they awaited his coming in breathless silence. As soon as hearrived at arm's length, he was suddenly seized, and, before he could openhis lips to raise an alarm, the silence of death closed them up for ever. They next descended rapidly the spiral staircase of the tower, and openingthe portal, admitted the whole of their companions. Raymond of Toulouse, who, cognisant of the whole plan, had been left behind with the main bodyof the army, heard at this instant the signal horn, which announced thatan entry had been effected, and, leading on his legions, the town wasattacked from within and without. 

 [8] Vide William of Tyre. 

Imagination cannot conceive a scene more dreadful than that presented bythe devoted city of Antioch on that night of horror. The Crusaders foughtwith a blind fury, which fanaticism and suffering alike incited. Men, women, and children were indiscriminately slaughtered, till the streetsran with blood. Darkness increased the destruction, for when morningdawned the Crusaders found themselves with their swords at the breasts oftheir fellow-soldiers, whom they had mistaken for foes. The Turkishcommander fled, first to the citadel, and that becoming insecure, to themountains, whither he was pursued and slain, and his grey head broughtback to Antioch as a trophy. At daylight the massacre ceased, and theCrusaders gave themselves up to plunder. They found gold, and jewels, andsilks, and velvets in abundance, but of provisions, which were of moreimportance to them, they found but little of any kind. Corn wasexcessively scarce, and they discovered to their sorrow that in thisrespect the besieged had been but little better off than the besiegers. 

[Illustration: SIEGE OF ANTIOCH. ]

Before they had time to instal themselves in their new position, and takethe necessary measures for procuring a supply, the city was invested bythe Turks. The sultan of Persia had raised an immense army, which heentrusted to the command of Kerbogha, the emir of Mosul, with instructionsto sweep the Christian locusts from the face of the land. The emireffected a junction with Kilij Aslaun, and the two armies surrounded thecity. Discouragement took complete possession of the Christian host, andnumbers of them contrived to elude the vigilance of the besiegers, andescape to Count Stephen of Blois at Alexandretta, to whom they related themost exaggerated tales of the misery they had endured, and the utterhopelessness of continuing the war. Stephen forthwith broke up his campand retreated towards Constantinople. On his way he was met by the EmperorAlexius, at the head of a considerable force, hastening to take possessionof the conquests made by the Christians in Asia. As soon as he heard oftheir woful plight, he turned back, and proceeded with the Count of Bloisto Constantinople, leaving the remnant of the Crusaders to shift forthemselves. 

The news of this defection increased the discouragement at Antioch. Allthe useless horses of the army had been slain and eaten, and dogs, cats, and rats were sold at enormous prices. Even vermin were becoming scarce. With increasing famine came a pestilence, so that in a short time butsixty thousand remained of the three hundred thousand that had originallyinvested Antioch. But this bitter extremity, while it annihilated theenergy of the host, only served to knit the leaders more firmly together;and Bohemund, Godfrey, and Tancred swore never to desert the cause as longas life lasted. The former strove in vain to reanimate the courage of hisfollowers. They were weary and sick at heart, and his menaces and promiseswere alike thrown away. Some of them had shut themselves up in the houses, and refused to come forth. Bohemund, to drive them to their duty, set fireto the whole quarter, and many of them perished in the flames, while therest of the army looked on with the utmost indifference. Bohemund, animated himself by a worldly spirit, did not know the true character ofthe Crusaders, nor understand the religious madness which had brought themin such shoals from Europe. A priest, more clear-sighted, devised a schemewhich restored all their confidence, and inspired them with a courage sowonderful as to make the poor sixty thousand emaciated, sick, and starvingzealots put to flight the well-fed and six times as numerous legions ofthe Sultan of Persia. 

This priest, a native of Provence, was named Peter Barthelemy, and whetherhe were a knave or an enthusiast, or both; a principal, or a tool in thehands of others, will ever remain a matter of doubt. Certain it is, however, that he was the means of raising the siege of Antioch, andcausing the eventual triumph of the armies of the cross. When the strengthof the Crusaders was completely broken by their sufferings, and hope hadfled from every bosom, Peter came to Count Raymond of Toulouse, anddemanded an interview on matters of serious moment. He was immediatelyadmitted. He said that, some weeks previously, at the time the Christianswere besieging Antioch, he was reposing alone in his tent, when he wasstartled by the shock of the earthquake, which had so alarmed the wholehost. Through violent terror of the shock he could only ejaculate, Godhelp me! when turning round he saw two men standing before him, whom he atonce recognised by the halo of glory around them as beings of anotherworld. One of them appeared to be an aged man, with reddish hair sprinkledwith grey, black eyes, and a long flowing grey beard. The other wasyounger, larger, and handsomer, and had something more divine in hisaspect. The elderly man alone spoke, and informed him that he was the holyapostle St. Andrew, and desired him to seek out the Count Raymond, theBishop of Puy, and Raymond of Altopulto, and ask them why the bishop didnot exhort the people, and sign them with the cross which he bore. Theapostle then took him, naked in his shirt as he was, and transported himthrough the air into the heart of the city of Antioch, where he led himinto the church of St. Peter, at that time a Saracen mosque. The apostlemade him stop by the pillar close to the steps by which they ascend on thesouth side to the altar, where hung two lamps, which gave out a lightbrighter than that of the noonday sun; the younger man, whom he did not atthat time know, standing afar off, near the steps of the altar. Theapostle then descended into the ground and brought up a lance, which hegave into his hand, telling him that it was the very lance that had openedthe side whence had flowed the salvation of the world. With tears of joyhe held the holy lance, and implored the apostle to allow him to take itaway and deliver it into the hands of Count Raymond. The apostle refused, and buried the lance again in the ground, commanding him, when the citywas won from the infidels, to go with twelve chosen men, and dig it upagain in the same place. The apostle then transported him back to histent, and the two vanished from his sight. He had neglected, he said, todeliver this message, afraid that his wonderful tale would not obtaincredence from men of such high rank. After some days he again saw the holyvision, as he was gone out of the camp to look for food. This time thedivine eyes of the younger looked reproachfully upon him. He implored theapostle to choose some one else more fitted for the mission, but theapostle refused, and smote him with a disorder of the eyes, as apunishment for his disobedience. With an obstinacy unaccountable even tohimself, he had still delayed. A third time the apostle and his companionhad appeared to him, as he was in a tent with his master William at St. Simeon. On that occasion St. Andrew told him to bear his command to theCount of Toulouse not to bathe in the waters of the Jordan when he came toit, but to cross over in a boat, clad in a shirt and breeches of linen, which he should sprinkle with the sacred waters of the river. Theseclothes he was afterwards to preserve along with the holy lance. Hismaster William, although he could not see the saint, distinctly heard thevoice giving orders to that effect. Again he neglected to execute thecommission, and again the saints appeared to him, when he was at the portof Mamistra, about to sail for Cyprus, and St. Andrew threatened him witheternal perdition if he refused longer. Upon this he made up his mind todivulge all that had been revealed to him. 

The Count of Toulouse, who, in all probability, concocted this tale withthe priest, appeared struck with the recital, and sent immediately for theBishop of Puy and Raymond of Altapulto. The bishop at once expressed hisdisbelief of the whole story, and refused to have any thing to do in thematter. The Count of Toulouse, on the contrary, saw abundant motives, ifnot for believing, for pretending to believe; and, in the end, he soimpressed upon the mind of the bishop the advantage that might be derivedfrom it, in working up the popular mind to its former excitement, that thelatter reluctantly agreed to make search in due form for the holy weapon. The day after the morrow was fixed upon for the ceremony; and, in the meantime, Peter was consigned to the care of Raymond, the count's chaplain, inorder that no profane curiosity might have an opportunity ofcross-examining him, and putting him to a nonplus. 

Twelve devout men were forthwith chosen for the undertaking, among whomwere the Count of Toulouse and his chaplain. They began digging atsunrise, and continued unwearied till near sunset, without finding thelance; they might have dug till this day with no better success, had notPeter himself sprung into the pit, praying to God to bring the lance tolight, for the strengthening and victory of his people. Those who hideknow where to find; and so it was with Peter, for both he and the lancefound their way into the hole at the same time. On a sudden, he andRaymond the chaplain beheld its point in the earth, and Raymond, drawingit forth, kissed it with tears of joy, in sight of the multitude which hadassembled in the church. It was immediately enveloped in a rich purplecloth, already prepared to receive it, and exhibited in this state to thefaithful, who made the building resound with their shouts of gladness. 

[Illustration: THE HOLY LANCE. ]

Peter had another vision the same night, and became from that day forth"dreamer of dreams" in general to the army. He stated on the followingday, that the Apostle Andrew and "the youth with the divine aspect"appeared to him again, and directed that the Count of Toulouse, as areward for his persevering piety, should carry the Holy Lance at the headof the army, and that the day on which it was found should be observed asa solemn festival throughout Christendom. St. Andrew shewed him at thesame time the holes in the feet and hands of his benign companion; and hebecame convinced that he stood in the awful presence of THE REDEEMER. 

Peter gained so much credit by his visions that dreaming becamecontagious. Other monks beside himself were visited by the saints, whopromised victory to the host if it would valiantly hold out to the last, and crowns of eternal glory to those who fell in the fight. Two deserters, wearied of the fatigues and privations of the war, who had stealthily leftthe camp, suddenly returned, and seeking Bohemund, told him that they hadbeen met by two apparitions, who, with great anger, had commanded them toreturn. The one of them said, that he recognised his brother, who had beenkilled in battle some months before, and that he had a halo of gloryaround his head. The other, still more hardy, asserted that the apparitionwhich had spoken to him was the Saviour himself, who had promised eternalhappiness as his reward if he returned to his duty, but the pains ofeternal fire if he rejected the cross. No one thought of disbelievingthese men. The courage of the army immediately revived; despondency gaveway to hope; every arm grew strong again, and the pangs of hunger were fora time disregarded. The enthusiasm which had led them from Europe, burnedforth once more as brightly as ever, and they demanded, with loud cries, to be led against the enemy. The leaders were not unwilling. In a battlelay their only chance of salvation; and although Godfrey, Bohemund, andTancred received the story of the lance with much suspicion, they were toowise to throw discredit upon an imposture which bade fair to open thegates of victory. 

Peter the Hermit was previously sent to the camp of Kerbogha to proposethat the quarrel between the two religions should be decided by a chosennumber of the bravest soldiers of each army. Kerbogha turned from him witha look of contempt, and said he could agree to no proposals from a set ofsuch miserable beggars and robbers. With this uncourteous answer Peterreturned to Antioch. Preparations were immediately commenced for an attackupon the enemy: the latter continued to be perfectly well informed of allthe proceedings of the Christian camp. The citadel of Antioch, whichremained in their possession, overlooked the town, and the commander ofthe fortress could distinctly see all that was passing within. On themorning of the 28th of June, 1098, a black flag, hoisted from its highesttower, announced to the besieging army that the Christians were about tosally forth. 

The Moslem leaders knew the sad inroads that famine and disease had madeupon the numbers of the foe; they knew that not above two hundred of theknights had horses to ride upon, and that the foot soldiers were sick andemaciated; but they did not know the almost incredible valour whichsuperstition had infused into their hearts. The story of the lance theytreated with the most supreme contempt, and, secure of an easy victory, they gave themselves no trouble in preparing for the onslaught. It isrelated that Kerbogha was playing a game at chess, when the black flag onthe citadel gave warning of the enemy's approach, and that, with trueoriental coolness, he insisted upon finishing the game ere he bestowed anyof his attention upon a foe so unworthy. The defeat of his advanced postof two thousand men aroused him from his apathy. 

The Crusaders, after this first victory, advanced joyfully towards themountains, hoping to draw the Turks to a place where their cavalry wouldbe unable to manoeuvre. Their spirits were light and their courage high, as, led on by the Duke of Normandy, Count Robert of Flanders, and Hugh ofVermandois, they came within sight of the splendid camp of the enemy. Godfrey of Bouillon and Adhemar Bishop of Puy, followed immediately afterthese leaders, the latter clad in complete armour, and bearing the HolyLance within sight of the whole army: Bohemund and Tancred brought up therear. 

Kerbogha, aware at last that his enemy was not so despicable, tookvigorous measures to remedy his mistake, and, preparing himself to meetthe Christians in front, he despatched the Sultan Soliman of Roum toattack them in the rear. To conceal this movement, he set fire to thedried weeds and grass with which the ground was covered, and Soliman, taking a wide circuit with his cavalry, succeeded, under cover of thesmoke, in making good his position in the rear. The battle raged furiouslyin front; the arrows of the Turks fell thick as hail, and theirwell-trained squadrons trod the Crusaders under their hoofs like stubble. Still the affray was doubtful; for the Christians had the advantage of theground, and were rapidly gaining upon the enemy, when the overwhelmingforces of Soliman arrived in the rear. Godfrey and Tancred flew to therescue of Bohemund, spreading dismay in the Turkish ranks by their fierceimpetuosity. The Bishop of Puy was left almost alone with the Provençalsto oppose the legions commanded by Kerbogha in person; but the presence ofthe Holy Lance made a hero of the meanest soldier in his train. Still, however, the numbers of the enemy seemed interminable. The Christians, attacked on every side, began at last to give way, and the Turks made sureof victory. 

At this moment a cry was raised in the Christian host that the saints werefighting on their side. The battle-field was clear of the smoke from theburning weeds, which had curled away, and hung in white clouds offantastic shape on the brow of the distant mountains. Some imaginativezealot, seeing this dimly through the dust of the battle, called out tohis fellows, to look at the army of saints, clothed in white, and ridingupon white horses, that were pouring over the hills to the rescue. Alleyes were immediately turned to the distant smoke; faith was in everyheart; and the old battle-cry, _God wills it! God wills it!_ resoundedthrough the field, as every soldier, believing that God was visiblysending his armies to his aid, fought with an energy unfelt before. Apanic seized the Persian and Turkish hosts, and they gave way in alldirections. In vain Kerbogha tried to rally them. Fear is more contagiousthan enthusiasm, and they fled over the mountains like deer pursued by thehounds. The two leaders, seeing the uselessness of further efforts, fledwith the rest; and that immense army was scattered over Palestine, leavingnearly seventy thousand of its dead upon the field of battle. 

Their magnificent camp fell into the hands of the enemy, with its richstores of corn, and its droves of sheep and oxen. Jewels, gold, and richvelvets in abundance were distributed among the army. Tancred followed thefugitives over the hills, and reaped as much plunder as those who hadremained in the camp. The way, as they fled, was covered with valuables, and horses of the finest breed of Arabia became so plentiful that everyknight of the Christians was provided with a steed. The Crusaders, in thisbattle, acknowledge to have lost nearly ten thousand men. 

Their return to Antioch was one of joy indeed: the citadel was surrenderedat once, and many of the Turkish garrison embraced the Christian faith, and the rest were suffered to depart. A solemn thanksgiving was offered upby the Bishop of Puy, in which the whole army joined, and the Holy Lancewas visited by every soldier. 

The enthusiasm lasted for some days, and the army loudly demanded to beled forward to Jerusalem, the grand goal of all their wishes: but none oftheir leaders was anxious to move;--the more prudent among them, such asGodfrey and Tancred, for reasons of expediency; and the more ambitious, such as the Count of Toulouse and Bohemund, for reasons of self-interest. Violent dissensions sprang up again between all the chiefs. Raymond ofToulouse, who was left at Antioch to guard the town, had summoned thecitadel to surrender, as soon as he saw that there was no fear of anyattack upon the part of the Persians; and the other chiefs found, upontheir return, his banner waving on its walls. This had given great offenceto Bohemund, who had stipulated the principality of Antioch as his rewardfor winning the town in the first instance. Godfrey and Tancred supportedhis claim, and, after a great deal of bickering, the flag of Raymond waslowered from the tower, and that of Bohemund hoisted in its stead, whoassumed from that time the title of Prince of Antioch. Raymond, however, persisted in retaining possession of one of the city gates and itsadjacent towers, which he held for several months, to the great annoyanceof Bohemund and the scandal of the army. The count became in consequenceextremely unpopular, although his ambition was not a whit moreunreasonable than that of Bohemund himself, nor of Baldwin, who had takenup his quarters at Edessa, where he exercised the functions of a pettysovereign. 

The fate of Peter Barthelemy deserves to be recorded. Honours andconsideration had come thick upon him after the affair of the lance, andhe consequently felt bound in conscience to continue the dreams which hadmade him a personage of so much importance. The mischief of it was, that, like many other liars, he had a very bad memory, and he contrived to makehis dreams contradict each other in the most palpable manner. St. John onenight appeared to him, and told one tale; while, a week after, St. Paultold a totally different story, and held out hopes quite incompatible withthose of his apostolic brother. The credulity of that age had a wide maw, and Peter's visions must have been absurd and outrageous indeed, when thevery men who had believed in the lance refused to swallow any more of hiswonders. Bohemund at last, for the purpose of annoying the Count ofToulouse, challenged poor Peter to prove the truth of his story of thelance by the fiery ordeal. Peter could not refuse a trial so common inthat age, and being besides encouraged by the count and his chaplainRaymond, an early day was appointed for the ceremony. The previous nightwas spent in prayer and fasting, according to custom, and Peter came forthin the morning bearing the lance in his hand, and walked boldly up to thefire. The whole army gathered round, impatient for the result, manythousands still believing that the lance was genuine, and Peter a holyman. Prayers having been said by Raymond d'Agilles, Peter walked into theflames, and had got nearly through, when pain caused him to lose hispresence of mind: the heat too affected his eyes, and, in his anguish, heturned round unwittingly, and passed through the fire again, instead ofstepping out of it, as he should have done. The result was, that he wasburned so severely that he never recovered, and, after lingering for somedays, he expired in great agony. 

Most of the soldiers were suffering either from wounds, disease, orweariness; and it was resolved by Godfrey, --the tacitly acknowledged chiefof the enterprise, --that the army should have time to refresh itself erethey advanced upon Jerusalem. It was now July, and he proposed that theyshould pass the hot months of August and September within the walls ofAntioch, and march forward in October with renewed vigour, and numbersincreased by fresh arrivals from Europe. This advice was finally adopted, although the enthusiasts of the army continued to murmur at the delay. Inthe mean time the Count of Vermandois was sent upon an embassy to theEmperor Alexius at Constantinople, to reproach him for his base desertionof the cause, and urge him to send the reinforcements he had promised. Thecount faithfully executed his mission (of which, by the way, Alexius tookno notice whatever), and remained for some time at Constantinople, tillhis zeal, never very violent, totally evaporated. He then returned toFrance, sick of the Crusade, and determined to intermeddle with it nomore. 

The chiefs, though they had determined to stay at Antioch for two months, could not remain quiet for so long a time. They would, in all probability, have fallen upon each other, had there been no Turks in Palestine uponwhom they might vent their impetuosity. Godfrey proceeded to Edessa, toaid his brother Baldwin in expelling the Saracens from his principality, and the other leaders carried on separate hostilities against them ascaprice or ambition dictated. At length the impatience of the army to beled against Jerusalem became so great that the chiefs could no longerdelay, and Raymond, Tancred, and Robert of Normandy marched forward withtheir divisions, and laid siege to the small but strong town of Marah. With their usual improvidence, they had not food enough to last abeleaguering army for a week. They suffered great privations inconsequence, till Bohemund came to their aid and took the town by storm. In connexion with this siege, the chronicler, Raymond d'Agilles (the sameRaymond the chaplain who figured in the affair of the Holy Lance), relatesa legend, in the truth of which he devoutly believed, and upon which Tassohas founded one of the most beautiful passages of his poem. It is worthpreserving, as shewing the spirit of the age and the source of theextraordinary courage manifested by the Crusaders on occasions of extremedifficulty. "One day, " says Raymond, "Anselme de Ribeaumont beheld youngEngelram, the son of the Count de St. Paul, who had been killed at Marah, enter his tent. 'How is it, ' said Anselme to him, 'that you, whom I sawlying dead on the field of battle, are full or life?'--'You must know, 'replied Engelram, 'that those who fight for Jesus Christ never die. ' 'Butwhence, ' resumed Anselme, 'comes that strange brightness that surroundsyou?' Upon this Engelram pointed to the sky, where Anselme saw a palace ofdiamond and crystal. 'It is thence, ' said he, 'that I derive the beautywhich surprises you. My dwelling is there; a still finer one is preparedfor you, and you shall soon come to inhabit it. Farewell! we shall meetagain to-morrow. ' With these words Engelram returned to heaven. Anselme, struck by the vision, sent the next morning for the priests, received thesacrament, and although full of health, took a last farewell of all hisfriends, telling them that he was about to leave this world. A few hoursafterwards, the enemy having made a sortie, Anselme went out against themsword in hand, and was struck on the forehead by a stone from a Turkishsling, which sent him to heaven, to the beautiful palace that was preparedfor him. "

[Illustration: SHRINE OF THE NATIVITY. ]

New disputes arose between the Prince of Antioch and the Count of Toulousewith regard to the capture of this town, which were with the utmostdifficulty appeased by the other chiefs. Delays also took place in theprogress of the army, especially before Archas, and the soldiery were soexasperated that they were on the point of choosing new leaders to conductthem to Jerusalem. Godfrey, upon this, set fire to his camp at Archas, andmarched forward. He was immediately joined by hundreds of the Provençalsof the Count of Toulouse. The latter, seeing the turn affairs were taking, hastened after them, and the whole host proceeded towards the holy city, so long desired amid sorrow, and suffering, and danger. At Emmaus theywere met by a deputation from the Christians of Bethlehem, praying forimmediate aid against the oppression of the infidels. The very name ofBethlehem, the birthplace of the Saviour, was music to their ears, andmany of them wept with joy to think they were approaching a spot sohallowed. Albert of Aix informs us that their hearts were so touched thatsleep was banished from the camp, and that, instead of waiting till themorning's dawn to recommence their march, they set out shortly aftermidnight, full of hope and enthusiasm. For upwards of four hours themail-clad legions tramped stedfastly forward in the dark, and when the sunarose in unclouded splendour, the towers and pinnacles of Jerusalemgleamed upon their sight. All the tender feelings of their nature weretouched; no longer brutal fanatics, but meek and humble pilgrims, theyknelt down upon the sod, and with tears in their eyes, exclaimed to oneanother "_Jerusalem! Jerusalem!_" Some of them kissed the holy ground, others stretched themselves at full length upon it, in order that theirbodies might come in contact with the greatest possible extent of it, andothers prayed aloud. The women and children who had followed the camp fromEurope, and shared in all its dangers, fatigues, and privations, were moreboisterous in their joy; the former from long-nourished enthusiasm, andthe latter from mere imitation, [9] and prayed, and wept, and laughed tillthey almost put the more sober to the blush. 

 [9] Guibert de Nogent relates a curious instance of the imitativeness of these juvenile Crusaders. He says that, during the siege of Antioch, the Christian and Saracen boys used to issue forth every evening from the town and camp in great numbers, under the command of captains chosen from among themselves. Armed with sticks instead of swords, and stones instead of arrows, they ranged themselves in battle order, and, shouting each the war-cry of their country, fought with the utmost desperation. Some of them lost their eyes, and many became cripples for life from the injuries they received on these occasions. 

[Illustration: THE PILGRIMS AT THE FIRST SIGHT OF JERUSALEM. ]

The first ebullition of their gladness having subsided, the army marchedforward, and invested the city on all sides. The assault was almostimmediately begun; but after the Christians had lost some of their bravestknights, that mode of attack was abandoned, and the army commenced itspreparations for a regular siege. Mangonels, moveable towers, andbattering-rams, together with a machine called a sow, made of wood, andcovered with raw hides, inside of which miners worked to undermine thewalls, were forthwith constructed; and to restore the courage anddiscipline of the army, which had suffered from the unworthy dissensionsof the chiefs, the latter held out the hand of friendship to each other, and Tancred and the Count of Toulouse embraced in sight of the whole camp. The clergy aided the cause with their powerful voice, and preached unionand goodwill to the highest and the lowest. A solemn procession was alsoordered round the city, in which the entire army joined, prayers beingoffered up at every spot which gospel records had taught them to consideras peculiarly sacred. 

The Saracens upon the ramparts beheld all these manifestations withoutalarm. To incense the Christians, whom they despised, they constructedrude crosses, and fixed them upon the walls, and spat upon and pelted themwith dirt and stones. This insult to the symbol of their faith raised thewrath of the Crusaders to that height that bravery became ferocity, andenthusiasm madness. When all the engines of war were completed, the attackwas recommenced, and every soldier of the Christian army fought with avigour which the sense of private wrong invariably inspires. Every man hadbeen personally outraged, and the knights worked at the battering-ramswith as much readiness as the meanest soldiers. The Saracen arrows andballs of fire fell thick and fast among them, but the tremendous ramsstill heaved against the walls, while the best marksmen of the host werebusily employed in the several floors of the moveable towers in dealingdeath among the Turks upon the battlements. Godfrey, Raymond, Tancred, andRobert of Normandy, each upon his tower, fought for hours with unweariedenergy, often repulsed, but ever ready to renew the struggle. The Turks, no longer despising the enemy, defended themselves with the utmost skilland bravery till darkness brought a cessation of hostilities. Short wasthe sleep that night in the Christian camp. The priests offered up solemnprayers in the midst of the attentive soldiery for the triumph of thecross in this last great struggle; and as soon as morning dawned, everyone was in readiness for the affray. The women and children lent theiraid, the latter running unconcerned to and fro while the arrows fell fastaround them, bearing water to the thirsty combatants. The saints werebelieved to be aiding their efforts, and the army, impressed with thisidea, surmounted difficulties under which a force thrice as numerous, butwithout their faith, would have quailed and been defeated. Raymond ofToulouse at last forced his way into the city by escalade, while at thevery same moment Tancred and Robert of Normandy succeeded in bursting openone of the gates. The Turks flew to repair the mischief, and Godfrey ofBouillon, seeing the battlements comparatively deserted, let down thedrawbridge of his moveable tower, and sprang forward, followed by all theknights of his train. In an instant after, the banner of the cross floatedupon the walls of Jerusalem. The Crusaders, raising once more theirredoubtable war-cry, rushed on from every side, and the city was taken. The battle raged in the streets for several hours, and the Christians, remembering their insulted faith, gave no quarter to young or old, male orfemale, sick or strong. Not one of the leaders thought himself at libertyto issue orders for staying the carnage, and if he had, he would not havebeen obeyed. The Saracens fled in great numbers to the mosque of Soliman, but they had not time to fortify themselves within it ere the Christianswere upon them. Ten thousand persons are said to have perished in thatbuilding alone. 

Peter the Hermit, who had remained so long under the veil of neglect, wasrepaid that day for all his zeal and all his sufferings. As soon as thebattle was over, the Christians of Jerusalem issued forth from theirhiding-places to welcome their deliverers. They instantly recognised theHermit as the pilgrim who, years before, had spoken to them so eloquentlyof the wrongs and insults they had endured, and promised to stir up theprinces and people of Europe in their behalf. They clung to the skirts ofhis garments in the fervour of their gratitude, and vowed to remember himfor ever in their prayers. Many of them shed tears about his neck, andattributed the deliverance of Jerusalem solely to his courage andperseverance. Peter afterwards held some ecclesiastical office in the holycity, but what it was, or what was his ultimate fate, history hasforgotten to inform us. Some say that he returned to France and founded amonastery, but the story does not rest upon sufficient authority. 

[Illustration: SIEGE OF JERUSALEM. ]

The grand object for which the popular swarms of Europe had forsaken theirhomes was now accomplished. The Moslem mosques of Jerusalem were convertedinto churches for a purer faith, and the mount of Calvary and thesepulchre of Christ were profaned no longer by the presence or the powerof the infidel. Popular frenzy had fulfilled its mission, and, as anatural consequence, it began to subside from that time forth. The news ofthe capture of Jerusalem brought numbers of pilgrims from Europe, and, among others, Stephen count of Chartres and Hugh of Vermandois, to atonefor their desertion; but nothing like the former enthusiasm existed amongthe nations. 

Thus then ends the history of the first Crusade. For the betterunderstanding of the second, it will be necessary to describe the intervalbetween them, and to enter into a slight sketch of the history ofJerusalem under its Latin kings, the long and fruitless wars theycontinued to wage with the unvanquished Saracens, and the poor andmiserable results which sprang from so vast an expenditure of zeal, and sodeplorable a waste of human life. 

[Illustration: JERUSALEM. ]

The necessity of having some recognised chief was soon felt by theCrusaders, and Godfrey de Bouillon, less ambitious than Bohemund orRaymond of Toulouse, gave his cold consent to wield a sceptre which thelatter chiefs would have clutched with eagerness. He was hardly investedwith the royal mantle before the Saracens menaced his capital. With muchvigour and judgment he exerted himself to follow up the advantages he hadgained, and marching out to meet the enemy before they had time to besiegehim in Jerusalem, he gave them battle at Ascalon, and defeated them withgreat loss. He did not, however, live long to enjoy his new dignity, beingseized with a fatal illness when he had only reigned nine months. To himsucceeded his brother, Baldwin of Edessa. The latter monarch did much toimprove the condition of Jerusalem and to extend its territory, but wasnot able to make a firm footing for his successors. For fifty years, inwhich the history of Jerusalem is full of interest to the historicalstudent, the Crusaders were exposed to fierce and constant hostilities, often gaining battles and territory, and as often losing them, butbecoming every day weaker and more divided, while the Saracens becamestronger and more united to harass and root them out. The battles of thisperiod were of the most chivalrous character, and deeds of heroism weredone by the handful of brave knights that remained in Syria, which havehardly their parallel in the annals of war. In the course of time, however, the Christians could not avoid feeling some respect for thecourage, and admiration for the polished manners and advanced civilisationof the Saracens, so much superior to the rudeness and semi-barbarism ofEurope at that day. Difference of faith did not prevent them from formingalliances with the dark-eyed maidens of the East. One of the first to setthe example of taking a Paynim spouse was King Baldwin himself, and theseconnexions in time became not only frequent, but almost universal, amongsuch of the knights as had resolved to spend their lives in Palestine. These Eastern ladies were obliged, however, to submit to the ceremony ofbaptism before they could be received to the arms of a Christian lord. These, and their offspring, naturally looked upon the Saracens with lesshatred than did the zealots who conquered Jerusalem, and who thought it asin deserving the wrath of God to spare an unbeliever. We find, inconsequence, that the most obstinate battles waged during the reigns ofthe later kings of Jerusalem were fought by the new and raw levies whofrom time to time arrived from Europe, lured by the hope of glory orspurred by fanaticism. The latter broke without scruple the trucesestablished between the original settlers and the Saracens, and drew downsevere retaliation upon many thousands of their brethren in the faith, whose prudence was stronger than their zeal, and whose chief desire was tolive in peace. 

[Illustration: BIBLE OF BALDWIN'S QUEEN. ]

Things remained in this unsatisfactory state till the close of the year1145, when Edessa, the strong frontier town of the Christian kingdom, fellinto the hands of the Saracens. The latter were commanded by Zenghi, apowerful and enterprising monarch, and, after his death, by his sonNourheddin, as powerful and enterprising as his father. An unsuccessfulattempt was made by the Count of Edessa to regain the fortress, butNourheddin with a large army came to the rescue, and after defeating thecount with great slaughter, marched into Edessa and caused itsfortifications to be razed to the ground, that the town might never morebe a bulwark of defence for the kingdom of Jerusalem. The road to thecapital was now open, and consternation seized the hearts of theChristians. Nourheddin, it was known, was only waiting for a favourableopportunity to advance upon Jerusalem, and the armies of the cross, weakened and divided, were not in a condition to make any availableresistance. The clergy were filled with grief and alarm, and wroterepeated letters to the Pope and the sovereigns of Europe, urging theexpediency of a new Crusade for the relief of Jerusalem. By far thegreater number of the priests of Palestine were natives of France, andthese naturally looked first to their own country. The solicitations theysent to Louis VII. Were urgent and oft repeated, and the chivalry ofFrance began to talk once more of arming in defence of the birthplace ofJesus. The kings of Europe, whose interest it had not been to take anypart in the first Crusade, began to bestir themselves in this; and a manappeared, eloquent as Peter the Hermit, to arouse the people as thatpreacher had done. 

We find, however, that the enthusiasm of the second did not equal that ofthe first Crusade; in fact, the mania had reached its climax in the timeof Peter the Hermit, and decreased regularly from that period. The thirdCrusade was less general than the second, and the fourth than the third, and so on, until the public enthusiasm was quite extinct, and Jerusalemreturned at last to the dominion of its old masters without a convulsionin Christendom. Various reasons have been assigned for this; and one verygenerally put forward is, that Europe was wearied with continuedstruggles, and had become sick of "precipitating itself upon Asia. " M. Guizot, in his admirable lectures upon European civilisation, successfullycombats this opinion, and offers one of his own, which is far moresatisfactory. He says, in his eighth lecture, "It has been often repeatedthat Europe was tired of continually invading Asia. This expressionappears to me exceedingly incorrect. It is not possible that human beingscan be wearied with what they have not done--that the labours of theirforefathers can fatigue them. Weariness is a personal, not an inheritedfeeling. The men of the thirteenth century were not fatigued by theCrusades of the twelfth. They were influenced by another cause. A greatchange had taken place in ideas, sentiments, and social conditions. Thesame desires and the same wants were no longer felt. The same things wereno longer believed. The people refused to believe what their ancestorswere persuaded of. "

This is, in fact, the secret of the change; and its truth becomes moreapparent as we advance in the history of the Crusades, and compare thestate of the public mind at the different periods when Godfrey ofBouillon, Louis VII. , and Richard I. , were chiefs and leaders of themovement. The Crusades themselves were the means of operating a greatchange in national ideas, and advancing the civilisation of Europe. In thetime of Godfrey, the nobles were all-powerful and all-oppressive, andequally obnoxious to kings and people. During their absence along withthat portion of the community the deepest sunk in ignorance andsuperstition, both kings and people fortified themselves against therenewal of aristocratic tyranny, and in proportion as they became freebecame civilised. It was during this period that in France, the grandcentre of the crusading madness, the _communes_ began to acquire strength, and the monarch to possess a practical and not a merely theoreticauthority. Order and comfort began to take root, and, when the secondCrusade was preached, men were in consequence much less willing to abandontheir homes than they had been during the first. Such pilgrims as hadreturned from the Holy Land came back with minds more liberal and expandedthan when they set out. They had come in contact with a people morecivilised than themselves; they had seen something more of the world, andhad lost some portion, however small, of the prejudice and bigotry ofignorance. The institution of chivalry had also exercised its humanisinginfluence, and coming bright and fresh through the ordeal of the Crusades, had softened the character and improved the hearts of the aristocraticorder. The _Trouvères_ and _Troubadours_, singing of love and war instrains pleasing to every class of society, helped to root out the gloomysuperstitions which, at the first Crusade, filled the minds of all thosewho were able to think. Men became in consequence less exclusively underthe mental thraldom of the priesthood, and lost much of the credulitywhich formerly distinguished them. 

The Crusades appear never to have excited so much attention in England ason the continent of Europe; not because the people were less fanaticalthan their neighbours, but because they were occupied in matters of graverinterest. The English were suffering too severely from the recentsuccessful invasion of their soil, to have much sympathy to bestow uponthe distresses of people so far away as the Christians of Palestine; andwe find that they took no part in the first Crusade, and very little inthe second. Even then those who engaged in it were chiefly Norman knightsand their vassals, and not the Saxon franklins and population, who nodoubt thought, in their sorrow, as many wise men have thought since, thatcharity should begin at home. 

Germany was productive of more zeal in the cause, and her raw uncivilisedhordes continued to issue forth under the banners of the cross in numbersapparently undiminished, when the enthusiasm had long been on the wane inother countries. They were sunk at that time in a deeper slough ofbarbarism than the livelier nations around them, and took, in consequence, a longer period to free themselves from their prejudices. In fact thesecond Crusade drew its chief supplies of men from that quarter, wherealone the expedition can be said to have retained any portion ofpopularity. 

Such was the state of mind of Europe when Pope Eugenius, moved by thereiterated entreaties of the Christians of Syria, commissioned St. Bernardto preach a new Crusade. St. Bernard was a man eminently qualified for themission. He was endowed with an eloquence of the highest order, could movean auditory to tears, or laughter, or fury, as it pleased him, and had leda life of such rigid and self-denying virtue, that not even calumny couldlift her finger and point it at him. He had renounced high prospects inthe Church, and contented himself with the simple abbacy of Clairvaux, inorder that he might have the leisure he desired, to raise his powerfulvoice against abuses wherever he found them. Vice met in him an austereand uncompromising reprover; no man was too high for his reproach, andnone too low for his sympathy. He was just as well suited for his age asPeter the Hermit had been for the age preceding. He appealed more to thereason, his predecessor to the passions; Peter the Hermit collected a mob, while St. Bernard collected an army. Both were endowed with equal zeal andperseverance, springing in the one from impulse, and in the other fromconviction, and a desire to increase the influence of the Church, thatgreat body of which he was a pillar and an ornament. 

[Illustration: CATHEDRAL OF VEZELAI. ]

One of the first converts he made was in himself a host. Louis VII. Wasboth superstitious and tyrannical, and, in a fit of remorse for theinfamous slaughter he had authorised at the sacking of Vitry, he made avow to undertake the journey to the Holy Land. [10] He was in thisdisposition when St. Bernard began to preach, and wanted but littlepersuasion to embark in the cause. His example had great influence uponthe nobility, who, impoverished as many of them were by the sacrificesmade by their fathers in the holy wars, were anxious to repair theirruined fortunes by conquests on a foreign shore. These took the field withsuch vassals as they could command, and in a very short time an army wasraised amounting to two hundred thousand men. At Vezelai the monarchreceived the cross from the hands of St. Bernard, on a platform elevatedin sight of all the people. Several nobles, three bishops, and his queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine, were present at this ceremony, and enrolledthemselves under the banner of the cross, St. Bernard cutting up his redsacerdotal vestments, and making crosses of them, to be sewn on theshoulders of the people. An exhortation from the Pope was read to themultitude, granting remission of their sins to all who should join theCrusade, and directing that no man on that holy pilgrimage should encumberhimself with heavy baggage and vain superfluities, and that the noblesshould not travel with dogs or falcons, to lead them from the direct road, as had happened to so many during the first Crusade. 

 [10] The sacking of Vitry reflects indelible disgrace upon Louis VII. His predecessors had been long engaged in resistance to the outrageous powers assumed by the Popes, and Louis continued the same policy. The ecclesiastical chapter of Bourges, having elected an archbishop without his consent, he proclaimed the election to be invalid, and took severe and prompt measures against the refractory clergy. Thibault count de Champagne took up arms in defence of the Papal authority, and entrenched himself in the town of Vitry. Louis immediately took the field to chastise the rebel, and he besieged the town with so much vigour that the count was forced to surrender. Upwards of thirteen hundred of the inhabitants, fully one half of whom were women and children, took refuge in the church; and, when the gates of the city were opened, and all resistance had ceased, Louis inhumanly gave orders to set fire to the sacred edifice, and a thousand persons perished in the flames. 

The command of the army was offered to St. Bernard; but he wisely refusedto accept a station for which his habits had unqualified him. Afterconsecrating Louis with great solemnity, at St. Denis, as chief of theexpedition, he continued his course through the country, stirring up thepeople wherever he went. So high an opinion was entertained of hissanctity, that he was thought to be animated by the spirit of prophecy, and to be gifted with the power of working miracles. Many women, excitedby his eloquence, and encouraged by his predictions, forsook theirhusbands and children, and, clothing themselves in male attire, hastenedto the war. St. Bernard himself wrote a letter to the Pope detailing hissuccess, and stating, that in several towns there did not remain a singlemale inhabitant capable of bearing arms, and that every where castles andtowns were to be seen filled with women weeping for their absent husbands. But in spite of this apparent enthusiasm, the numbers who really took uparms were inconsiderable, and not to be compared to the swarms of thefirst Crusade. A levy of no more than two hundred thousand men, which wasthe utmost the number amounted to, could hardly have depopulated a countrylike France, to the extent mentioned by St. Bernard. His description ofthe state of the country appears, therefore, to have been much morepoetical than true. 

Suger, the able minister of Louis, endeavoured to dissuade him fromundertaking so long a journey at a time when his own dominions so muchneeded his presence. But the king was pricked in his conscience by thecruelties of Vitry, and was anxious to make the only reparation which thereligion of that day considered sufficient. He was desirous, moreover, oftestifying to the world, that though he could brave the temporal power ofthe Church when it encroached upon his prerogatives, he could render alldue obedience to its spiritual decrees whenever it suited his interest ortallied with his prejudices to do so. Suger, therefore, implored in vain, and Louis received the pilgrim's staff at St. Denis, and made allpreparations for his pilgrimage. 

In the mean time St. Bernard passed into Germany, where similar successattended his preaching. The renown of his sanctity had gone before him, and he found every where an admiring audience. Thousands of people, whocould not understand a word he said, flocked around him to catch a glimpseof so holy a man; and the knights enrolled themselves in renumbers in theservice of the cross, each receiving from his hands the symbol of thecause. But the people were not led away as in the days of Gottschalk. Wedo not find that they rose in such tremendous masses of two and threehundred thousand men, swarming over the country like a plague of locusts. Still the enthusiasm was very great. The extraordinary tales that weretold and believed of the miracles worked by the preacher brought thecountry people from far and near. Devils were said to vanish at his sight, and diseases of the most malignant nature to be cured by his touch. [11]The Emperor Conrad caught at last the contagion from his subjects, anddeclared his intention to follow the cross. 

 [11] Philip, Archdeacon of the cathedral of Liege, wrote a detailed account of all the miracles performed by St. Bernard during thirty-four days of his mission. They averaged about ten per day. The disciples of St. Bernard complained bitterly that the people flocked around their master in such numbers, that they could not see half the miracles he performed. But they willingly trusted the eyes of others, as far as faith in the miracles went, and seemed to vie with each other whose credulity should be greatest. 

The preparations were carried on so vigorously under the orders of Conrad, that in less than three months he found himself at the head of an armycontaining at least one hundred and fifty thousand effective men, besidesa great number of women who followed their husbands and lovers to the war. One troop of them rode in the attitude and armour of men: their chief woregilt spurs and buskins, and thence acquired the epithet of thegolden-footed lady. Conrad was ready to set out long before the Frenchmonarch, and in the month of June 1147, he arrived before Constantinople, having passed through Hungary and Bulgaria without offence to theinhabitants. 

[Illustration: PILGRIM'S STAFF. ]

Manuel Comnenus, the Greek emperor, successor not only to the throne butto the policy of Alexius, looked with alarm upon the new levies who hadcome to eat up his capital and imperil its tranquillity. Too weak torefuse them a passage through his dominions, too distrustful of them tomake them welcome when they came, and too little assured of the advantageslikely to result to himself from the war, to feign a friendship which hedid not feel, the Greek emperor gave offence at the very outset. Hissubjects, in the pride of superior civilisation, called the Germansbarbarians; while the latter, who, if semi-barbarous, were at least honestand straightforward, retorted upon the Greeks by calling them double-facedknaves and traitors. Disputes continually arose between them, and Conrad, who had preserved so much good order among his followers during theirpassage, was unable to restrain their indignation when they arrived atConstantinople. For some offence or other which the Greeks had given them, but which is rather hinted at than stated by the scanty historians of theday, the Germans broke into the magnificent pleasure-garden of theemperor, where he had a valuable collection of tame animals, for which thegrounds had been laid out in woods, caverns, groves, and streams, thateach might follow in captivity his natural habits. The enraged Germans, meriting the name of barbarians that had been bestowed upon them, laidwaste this pleasant retreat, and killed or let loose the valuable animalsit contained. Manuel, who is said to have beheld the devastation from hispalace windows without power or courage to prevent it, was completelydisgusted with his guests, and resolved, like his predecessor Alexius, toget rid of them on the first opportunity. He sent a message to Conradrespectfully desiring an interview, but the German refused to trusthimself within the walls of Constantinople. The Greek emperor, on hispart, thought it compatible neither with his dignity nor his safety toseek the German, and several days were spent in insincere negotiations. Manuel at length agreed to furnish the crusading army with guides toconduct it through Asia Minor; and Conrad passed over the Hellespont withhis forces, the advanced guard being commanded by himself, and the rear bythe warlike Bishop of Freysinghen. 

Historians are almost unanimous in their belief that the wily Greek gaveinstructions to his guides to lead the army of the German emperor intodangers and difficulties. It is certain that, instead of guiding themthrough such districts of Asia Minor as afforded water and provisions, they led them into the wilds of Cappadocia, where neither was to beprocured, and where they were suddenly attacked by the sultan of theSeljukian Turks, at the head of an immense force. The guides, whosetreachery is apparent from this fact alone, fled at the first sight of theTurkish army, and the Christians were left to wage unequal warfare withtheir enemy, entangled and bewildered in desert wilds. Toiling in theirheavy mail, the Germans could make but little effective resistance to theattacks of the Turkish light horse, who were down upon them one instant, and out of sight the next. Now in the front and now in the rear, the agilefoe showered his arrows upon them, enticing them into swamps and hollows, from which they could only extricate themselves after long struggles andgreat losses. The Germans, confounded by this mode of warfare, lost allconception of the direction they were pursuing, and went back instead offorward. Suffering at the same time for want of provisions, they fell aneasy prey to their pursuers. Count Bernhard, one of the bravest leaders ofthe German expedition, was surrounded, with his whole division, not one ofwhom escaped the Turkish arrows. The emperor himself had nearly fallen avictim, and was twice severely wounded. So persevering was the enemy, andso little able were the Germans to make even a shew of resistance, thatwhen Conrad at last reached the city of Nice, he found that, instead ofbeing at the head of an imposing force of one hundred thousand foot andseventy thousand horse, he had but fifty or sixty thousand men, and thesein the most worn and wearied condition. 

Totally ignorant of the treachery of the Greek emperor, although he hadbeen warned to beware of it, Louis VII. Proceeded, at the head of hisarmy, through Worms and Ratisbon, towards Constantinople. At Ratisbon hewas met by a deputation from Manuel, bearing letters so full of hyperboleand flattery, that Louis is reported to have blushed when they were readto him by the Bishop of Langres. The object of the deputation was toobtain from the French king a promise to pass through the Grecianterritories in a peaceable and friendly manner, and to yield to the Greekemperor any conquest he might make in Asia Minor. The first part of theproposition was immediately acceded to, but no notice was taken of thesecond and more unreasonable. Louis marched on, and, passing throughHungary, pitched his tents in the outskirts of Constantinople. 

On his arrival, Manuel sent him a friendly invitation to enter the city atthe head of a small train. Louis at once accepted it, and was met by theemperor at the porch of his palace. The fairest promises were made; everyart that flattery could suggest was resorted to, and every argumentemployed, to induce him to yield his future conquests to the Greek. Louisobstinately refused to pledge himself, and returned to his army convincedthat the emperor was a man not to be trusted. Negotiations were, however, continued for several days, to the great dissatisfaction of the Frencharmy. The news that arrived of a treaty entered into between Manuel andthe Turkish sultan changed their dissatisfaction into fury, and theleaders demanded to be led against Constantinople, swearing that theywould raze the treacherous city to the ground. Louis did not feel inclinedto accede to this proposal, and, breaking up his camp, he crossed overinto Asia. 

Here he heard, for the first time, of the mishaps of the German emperor, whom he found in a woful plight under the walls of Nice. The two monarchsunited their forces, and marched together along the sea-coast to Ephesus;but Conrad, jealous, it would appear, of the superior numbers of theFrench, and not liking to sink into a vassal, for the time being, of hisrival, withdrew abruptly with the remnant of his legions, and returned toConstantinople. Manuel was all smiles and courtesy. He condoled with theGerman so feelingly upon his losses, and cursed the stupidity or treacheryof the guides with such apparent heartiness, that Conrad was half inclinedto believe in his sincerity. 

Louis, marching onward in the direction of Jerusalem, came up with theenemy on the banks of the Meander. The Turks contested the passage of theriver, but the French bribed a peasant to point out a ford lower down:crossing the river without difficulty, they attacked the Turks with muchvigour, and put them to flight. Whether the Turks were really defeated, ormerely pretended to be so, is doubtful; but the latter supposition seemsto be the true one. It is probable that it was part of a concerted plan todraw the invaders onwards to more unfavourable ground, where theirdestruction might be more certain. If such were the scheme, it succeededto the heart's wish of its projectors. The Crusaders, on the third dayafter their victory, arrived at a steep mountain-pass, on the summit ofwhich the Turkish host lay concealed so artfully, that not the slightestvestige of their presence could be perceived. "With labouring steps andslow, " they toiled up the steep ascent, when suddenly a tremendousfragment of rock came bounding down the precipices with an awful crash, bearing dismay and death before it. At the same instant the Turkisharchers started from their hiding-places, and discharged a shower ofarrows upon the foot-soldiers, who fell by hundreds at a time. The arrowsrebounded harmlessly against the iron mail of the knights, which the Turksobserving, took aim at their steeds, and horse and rider fell down thesteep into the rapid torrent which rushed below. Louis, who commanded therear-guard, received the first intimation of the onslaught from the sightof the wounded and flying soldiers, and, not knowing the numbers of theenemy, he pushed vigorously forward to stay, by his presence, the panicwhich had taken possession of his army. All his efforts were in vain. Immense stones continued to be hurled upon them as they advanced, bearingmen and horse before them; and those who succeeded in forcing their way tothe top were met hand-to-hand by the Turks, and cast down headlong upontheir companions. Louis himself fought with the energy of desperation, buthad great difficulty to avoid falling into the enemy's hands. He escapedat last under cover of the night, with the remnant of his forces, and tookup his position before Attalia. Here he restored the discipline and thecourage of his disorganised and disheartened followers, and debated withhis captains the plan that was to be pursued. After suffering severelyboth from disease and famine, it was resolved that they should march toAntioch, which still remained an independent principality under thesuccessors of Bohemund of Tarentum. At this time the sovereignty wasvested in the person of Raymond, the uncle of Eleanor of Aquitaine. Thisprince, presuming upon his relationship to the French queen, endeavouredto withdraw Louis from the grand object of the Crusade--the defence of thekingdom of Jerusalem, and secure his co-operation in extending the limitsand the power of his principality of Antioch. The Prince of Tripoli formeda similar design; but Louis rejected the offers of both, and marched, after a short delay, to Jerusalem. The Emperor Conrad was there beforehim, having left Constantinople with promises of assistance from ManuelComnenus--assistance which never arrived, and was never intended. 

[Illustration: DAMASCUS. ]

A great council of the Christian princes of Palestine, and the leaders ofthe Crusade, was then summoned, to discuss the future operations of thewar. It was ultimately determined that it would further the cause of thecross in a greater degree if the united armies, instead of proceeding toEdessa, laid siege to the city of Damascus, and drove the Saracens fromthat strong position. This was a bold scheme, and, had it been boldlyfollowed out, would have insured, in all probability, the success of thewar. But the Christian leaders never learned from experience the necessityof union, that very soul of great enterprises. Though they all agreed uponthe policy of the plan, yet every one had his own notions as to the meansof executing it. The princes of Antioch and Tripoli were jealous of eachother, and of the king of Jerusalem. The Emperor Conrad was jealous of theking of France, and the king of France was disgusted with them all. But hehad come out to Palestine in accordance with a solemn vow; his religion, though it may be called bigotry, was sincere; and he determined to remainto the very last moment that a chance was left of effecting any good forthe cause he had set his heart on. 

The siege of Damascus was accordingly commenced, and with so much abilityand vigour that the Christians gained a considerable advantage at the veryoutset. For weeks the siege was pressed, till the shattered fortificationsand diminishing resistance of the besieged gave evidence that the citycould not hold out much longer. At that moment the insane jealousy of theleaders led to dissensions that soon caused the utter failure, not only ofthe siege but of the Crusade. A modern cookery-book, in giving a recipefor cooking a hare, says, "first catch your hare, and then kill it"--amaxim of indisputable wisdom. The Christian chiefs, on this occasion, hadnot so much sagacity, for they began a violent dispute among themselvesfor the possession of a city which was still unconquered. There beingalready a prince of Antioch and a prince of Tripoli, twenty claimantsstarted for the principality of Damascus; and a grand council of theleaders was held to determine the individual on whom the honour shoulddevolve. Many valuable days were wasted in this discussion, the enemy inthe meanwhile gaining strength from their inactivity. It was at length, after a stormy deliberation, agreed that Count Robert of Flanders, who hadtwice visited the Holy Land, should be invested with the dignity. Theother claimants refused to recognise him or to co-operate in the siegeuntil a more equitable arrangement had been made. Suspicion filled thecamp; the most sinister rumours of intrigues and treachery were setafloat; and the discontented candidates withdrew at last to the other sideof the city, and commenced operations on their own account without aprobability of success. They were soon joined by the rest of the army. Theconsequence was that the weakest side of the city, and that on which theyhad already made considerable progress in the work of demolition, was leftuncovered. The enemy was prompt to profit by the mistake, and received anabundant supply of provisions, and refortified the walls, before theCrusaders came to their senses again. When this desirable event happened, it was too late. Saph Eddin, the powerful emir of Mousoul, was in theneighbourhood, at the head of a large army, advancing by forced marches tothe relief of the city. The siege was abruptly abandoned, and the foolishCrusaders returned to Jerusalem, having done nothing to weaken the enemy, but every thing to weaken themselves. 

The freshness of enthusiasm had now completely subsided; even the meanestsoldiers were sick at heart. Conrad, from whose fierce zeal at the outsetso much might have been expected, was wearied with reverses, and returnedto Europe with the poor remnant of his host. Louis lingered a short timelonger, for very shame, but the pressing solicitations of his ministerSuger induced him to return to France. Thus ended the second Crusade. Itshistory is but a chronicle of defeats. It left the kingdom of Jerusalem ina worse state than when it quitted Europe, and gained nothing but disgracefor its leaders, and discouragement for all concerned. 

St. Bernard, who had prophesied a result so different, fell after thisinto some disrepute, and experienced, like many other prophets, the fateof being without honour in his own country. What made the matter worse, hecould not obtain it in any other. Still, however, there were not wantingzealous advocates to stand forward in his behalf, and stem the tide ofincredulity, which, unopposed, would have carried away his reputation. TheBishop of Freysinghen declared that prophets were not always able toprophesy, and that the vices of the Crusaders drew down the wrath ofheaven upon them. But the most ingenious excuse ever made for St. Bernardis to be found in his life by Geoffroi de Clairvaux, where hepertinaciously insists that the Crusade was not unfortunate. St. Bernard, he says, had prophesied a happy result, and that result could not beconsidered other than happy which had peopled heaven with so glorious anarmy of martyrs. Geoffroi was a cunning pleader, and, no doubt, convinceda few of the zealous; but plain people, who were not wanting even in thosedays, retained their own opinion, or, what amounts to the same thing, "were convinced against their will. "

We now come to the consideration of the third Crusade, and of the causeswhich rendered it necessary. The epidemic frenzy, which had been coolingever since the issue of the first expedition, was now extinct, or verynearly so, and the nations of Europe looked with cold indifference uponthe armaments of their princes. But chivalry had flourished in its naturalelement of war, and was now in all its glory. It continued to supplyarmies for the Holy Land when the popular ranks refused to deliver uptheir able-bodied swarms. Poetry, which, more than religion, inspired thethird Crusade, was then but "_caviare_ to the million, " who had othermatters, of sterner import, to claim all their attention. But the knightsand their retainers listened with delight to the martial and amatorystrains of the minstrels, minnesängers, trouvères, and troubadours, andburned to win favour in ladies' eyes by shewing prowess in the Holy Land. The third was truly the romantic era of the Crusades. Men fought then, notso much for the sepulchre of Jesus, and the maintenance of a Christiankingdom in the East, as to gain glory for themselves in the best andalmost only field where glory could be obtained. They fought, not aszealots, but as soldiers; not for religion, but for honour; not for thecrown of martyrdom, but for the favour of the lovely. 

[Illustration: SEAL OF BARBAROSSA. ]

It is not necessary to enter into a detail of the events by which Saladinattained the sovereignty of the East, or how, after a succession ofengagements, he planted the Moslem banner once more upon the battlementsof Jerusalem. The Christian knights and population, including the grandorders of St. John, the Hospitallers, and the Templars, were sunk in anabyss of vice, and, torn by unworthy jealousies and dissensions, wereunable to resist the well-trained armies which the wise and mighty Saladinbrought forward to crush them. But the news of their fall created apainful sensation among the chivalry of Europe, whose noblest members werelinked to the dwellers in Palestine by many ties, both of blood andfriendship. The news of the great battle of Tiberias, in which Saladindefeated the Christian host with terrible slaughter, arrived first inEurope, and was followed in quick succession by that of the capture ofJerusalem, Antioch, Tripoli, and other cities. Dismay seized upon theclergy. The Pope (Urban III. ) was so affected by the news that he pinedaway for grief, and was scarcely seen to smile again, until he sank intothe sleep of death. [12] His successor, Gregory VIII. , felt the loss asacutely, but had better strength to bear it, and instructed all the clergyof the Christian world to stir up the people to arms for the recovery ofthe Holy Sepulchre. William Archbishop of Tyre, a humble follower in thepath of Peter the Hermit, left Palestine to preach to the kings of Europethe miseries he had witnessed, and to incite them to the rescue. Therenowned Frederick Barbarossa, the emperor of Germany, speedily collectedan army, and passing over into Syria with less delay than had ever beforeawaited a crusading force, defeated the Saracens, and took possession ofthe city of Iconium. He was unfortunately cut off in the middle of hissuccessful career, by imprudently bathing in the Cydnus[13] while he wasoverheated, and the Duke of Suabia took the command of the expedition. Thelatter did not prove so able a general, and met with nothing but reverses, although he was enabled to maintain a footing at Antioch until assistancearrived from Europe. 

 [12] James of Vitry; William de Nangis. 

 [13] The desire of comparing two great men has tempted many writers to drown Frederick in the river Cydnus, in which Alexander so imprudently bathed (Q. Curt. Lib. Iii. C. 4, 5); but, from the march of the emperor, I rather judge that his Saleph is the Calycadnus, a stream of less fame, but of a longer course. --_Gibbon_. 

[Illustration: HENRY II. OF ENGLAND. ]

[Illustration: CHATEAU OF GISORS. ]

Henry II. Of England and Philip Augustus of France, at the head of theirchivalry, supported the Crusade with all their influence, until wars anddissensions nearer home estranged them from it for a time. The two kingsmet at Gisors in Normandy in the month of January, 1188, accompanied by abrilliant train of knights and warriors. William of Tyre was present, andexpounded the cause of the cross with considerable eloquence, and thewhole assembly bound themselves by oath to proceed to Jerusalem. It wasagreed at the same time that a tax, called Saladin's tithe, and consistingof the tenth part of all possessions, whether landed or personal, shouldbe enforced over Christendom, upon every one who was either unable orunwilling to assume the cross. The lord of every feof, whether lay orecclesiastical, was charged to raise the tithe within his ownjurisdiction; and any one who refused to pay his quota, became by that actthe bondsman and absolute property of his lord. At the same time thegreatest indulgence was shewn to those who assumed the cross; no man wasat liberty to stay them by process of any kind, whether for debt, orrobbery, or murder. The king of Prance, at the breaking up of theconference, summoned a parliament at Paris, where these resolutions weresolemnly confirmed, while Henry II. Did the same for his Normanpossessions at Rouen, and for England at Geddington, in Northamptonshire. To use the words of an ancient chronicler, [14] "he held a parliament aboutthe voyage into the Holy Land, and troubled the whole land with the payingof tithes towards it. "

 [14] Stowe. 

[Illustration: PHILIP AUGUSTUS. ]

But it was not England alone that was "_troubled_" by the tax. The peopleof France also looked upon it with no pleasant feelings, and appear fromthat time forth to have changed their indifference for the Crusade intoaversion. Even the clergy, who were exceedingly willing that other peopleshould contribute half, or even all their goods in furtherance of theirfavourite scheme, were not at all anxious to contribute a single sousthemselves. Millot[15] relates that several of them cried out against theimpost. Among the rest, the clergy of Rheims were called upon to pay theirquota, but sent a deputation to the king, begging him to be contented withthe aid of their prayers, as they were too poor to contribute in any othershape. Philip Augustus knew better, and by way of giving them a lesson, employed three nobles of the vicinity to lay waste the Church lands. Theclergy, informed of the outrage, applied to the king for redress. "I willaid you with my prayers, " said the monarch condescendingly, "and willentreat those gentlemen to let the Church alone. " He did as he hadpromised, but in such a manner that the nobles, who appreciated the joke, continued their devastations as before. Again the clergy applied to theking. "What would you have of me?" he replied, in answer to theirremonstrances: "you gave me your prayers in my necessity, and I have givenyou mine in yours. " The clergy understood the argument, and thought it thewiser course to pay their quota of Saladin's tithe without further parley. 

 [15] _Elémens de l'Histoire de France_. 

This anecdote shews the unpopularity of the Crusade. If the clergydisliked to contribute, it is no wonder that the people felt still greaterantipathy. But the chivalry of Europe was eager for the affray: the tithewas rigorously collected, and armies from England, France, Burgundy, Italy, Flanders, and Germany, were soon in the field. The two kings whowere to have led it were, however, drawn into broils by an aggression ofRichard duke of Guienne, better known as Richard Coeur de Lion, upon theterritory of the Count of Toulouse, and the proposed journey to Palestinewas delayed. War continued to rage between France and England, and with solittle probability of a speedy termination, that many of the nobles, boundto the Crusade, left the two monarchs to settle the differences at theirleisure, and proceeded to Palestine without them. 

Death at last stepped in and removed Henry II. From the hostility of hisfoes, and the treachery and ingratitude of his children. His son Richardimmediately concluded an alliance with Philip Augustus; and the two young, valiant, and impetuous monarchs united all their energies to forward theCrusade. They met with a numerous and brilliant retinue at Nonancourt inNormandy, where, in sight of their assembled chivalry, they embraced asbrothers, and swore to live as friends and true allies, until a period offorty days after their return from the Holy Land. With a view of purgingtheir camp from the follies and vices which had proved so ruinous topreceding expeditions, they drew up a code of laws for the government ofthe army. Gambling had been carried to a great extent, and proved thefruitful source of quarrels and bloodshed; and one of their lawsprohibited any person in the army, beneath the degree of a knight, fromplaying at any game for money. [16] Knights and clergymen might play formoney, but no one was permitted to lose or gain more than twenty shillingsin a day, under a penalty of one hundred shillings. The personalattendants of the monarchs were also allowed to play to the same extent. The penalty in their case for infraction was that they should be whippednaked through the army for the space of three days. Any Crusader, whostruck another and drew blood, was ordered to have his hand cut off; andwhoever slew a brother Crusader was condemned to be tied alive to thecorpse of his victim, and buried with him. No young women were allowed tofollow the army, to the great sorrow of many vicious and of many virtuousdames, who had not courage to elude the decree by dressing in male attire. But many high-minded and affectionate maidens and matrons, bearing thesword or the spear, followed their husbands and lovers to the war in spiteof King Richard, and in defiance of danger. The only women allowed toaccompany the army in their own habiliments were washerwomen of fiftyyears complete, and any others of the fair sex who had reached the sameage. 

 [16] Strutt's _Sports and Pastimes_. 

These rules having been promulgated, the two monarchs marched together toLyons, where they separated, agreeing to meet again at Messina. Philipproceeded across the Alps to Genoa, where he took ship, and was conveyedin safety to the place of rendezvous. Richard turned in the direction ofMarseilles, where he also took ship for Messina. His impetuous dispositionhurried him into many squabbles by the way, and his knights and followers, for the most part as brave and as foolish as himself, imitated him veryzealously in this particular. At Messina the Sicilians charged the mostexorbitant prices for every necessary of life. Richard's army in vainremonstrated. From words they came to blows, and, as a last resource, plundered the Sicilians, since they could not trade with them. Continualbattles were the consequence, in one of which Lebrun, the favouriteattendant of Richard, lost his life. The peasantry from far and near cameflocking to the aid of the townspeople, and the battle soon becamegeneral. Richard, irritated at the loss of his favourite, and incited byreport that Tancred, the king of Sicily, was fighting at the head of hisown people, joined the _mêlée_ with his boldest knights, and, beating backthe Sicilians, attacked the city sword in hand, stormed the battlements, tore down the flag of Sicily, and planted his own in its stead. Thiscollision gave great offence to the king of France, who became from thattime jealous of Richard, and apprehensive that his design was not so muchto re-establish the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem, as to make conquestsfor himself. He, however, exerted his influence to restore peace betweenthe English and Sicilians, and shortly afterwards set sail for Acre, withdistrust of his ally germinating in his heart. 

[Illustration: THE ISLAND OF RHODES. ]

Richard remained behind for some weeks in a state of inactivity quiteunaccountable in one of his temperament. He appears to have had no moresquabbles with the Sicilians, but to have lived an easy, luxurious life, forgetting, in the lap of pleasure, the objects for which he had quittedhis own dominions and the dangerous laxity he was introducing into hisarmy. The superstition of his soldiers recalled him at length to a senseof his duty: a comet was seen for several successive nights, which wasthought to menace them with the vengeance of Heaven for their delay. Shooting stars gave them similar warning; and a fanatic, of the name ofJoachim, with his drawn sword in his hand, and his long hair streamingwildly over his shoulders, went through the camp, howling all night long, and predicting plague, famine, and every other calamity, if they did notset out immediately. Richard did not deem it prudent to neglect theintimations; and, after doing humble penance for his remissness, he setsail for Acre. 

A violent storm dispersed his fleet, but he arrived safely at Rhodes withthe principal part of the armament. Here he learned that three of hisships had been stranded on the rocky coasts of Cyprus, and that the rulerof the island, Isaac Comnenus, had permitted his people to pillage theunfortunate crews, and had refused shelter to his betrothed bride, thePrincess Berengaria, and his sister, who, in one of the vessels, had beendriven by stress of weather into the port of Limisso. The fiery monarchswore to be revenged, and, collecting all his vessels, sailed back toLimisso. Isaac Comnenus refused to apologise or explain, and Richard, inno mood to be trifled with, landed on the island, routed with great lossthe forces sent to oppose him, and laid the whole country undercontribution. 

[Illustration: RICHARD I. AND BERENGARIA. ]

On his arrival at Acre he found the whole of the chivalry of Europe therebefore him. Guy of Lusignan, the king of Jerusalem, had long beforecollected the bold Knights of the Temple, the Hospital, and St. John, andhad laid siege to Acre, which was resolutely defended by the SultanSaladin, with an army magnificent both for its numbers and its discipline. For nearly two years the Crusaders had pushed the siege, and made effortsalmost superhuman to dislodge the enemy. Various battles had taken placein the open fields with no decisive advantage to either party, and Guy ofLusignan had begun to despair of taking that strong position without aidfrom Europe. His joy was extreme on the arrival of Philip with all hischivalry, and he only awaited the coming of Coeur de Lion to make one lastdecisive attack upon the town. When the fleet of England was first seenapproaching the shores of Syria, a universal shout arose from theChristian camp; and when Richard landed with his train, one louder stillpierced to the very mountains of the south, where Saladin lay with all hisarmy. 

It may be remarked as characteristic of this Crusade, that the Christiansand the Moslems no longer looked upon each other as barbarians, to whommercy was a crime. Each host entertained the highest admiration for thebravery and magnanimity of the other, and, in their occasional truces, metupon the most friendly terms. The Moslem warriors were full of courtesy tothe Christian knights, and had no other regret than to think that suchfine fellows were not Mahomedans. The Christians, with a feeling preciselysimilar, extolled to the skies the nobleness of the Saracens, and sighedto think that such generosity and valour should be sullied by disbelief inthe Gospel of Jesus. But when the strife began, all these feelingsdisappeared, and the struggle became mortal. 

The jealousy excited in the mind of Philip by the events of Messina stillrankled, and the two monarchs refused to act in concert. Instead of makinga joint attack upon the town, the French monarch assailed it alone, andwas repulsed. Richard did the same, and with the same result. Philip triedto seduce the soldiers of Richard from their allegiance by the offer ofthree gold pieces per month to every knight who would forsake the bannersof England for those of France. Richard endeavoured to neutralise theoffer by a larger one, and promised four pieces to every French knight whoshould join the Lion of England. In this unworthy rivalry their time waswasted, to the great detriment of the discipline and efficiency of theirfollowers. Some good was nevertheless effected; for the mere presence oftwo such armies prevented the besieged city from receiving supplies, andthe inhabitants were reduced by famine to the most woful straits. Saladindid not deem it prudent to risk a general engagement by coming to theirrelief, but preferred to wait till dissension had weakened his enemy, andmade him an easy prey. Perhaps if he had been aware of the real extent ofthe extremity in Acre, he would have changed his plan; but, cut off fromthe town, he did not know its misery till it was too late. After a shorttruce the city capitulated upon terms so severe that Saladin afterwardsrefused to ratify them. The chief conditions were, that the precious woodof the true cross, captured by the Moslems in Jerusalem, should berestored; that a sum of two hundred thousand gold pieces should be paid;and that all the Christian prisoners in Acre should be released, togetherwith two hundred knights and a thousand soldiers detained in captivity bySaladin. The eastern monarch, as may be well conceived, did not set muchstore on the wood of the cross, but was nevertheless anxious to keep it, as he knew its possession by the Christians would do more than a victoryto restore their courage. He refused, therefore, to deliver it up, or toaccede to any of the conditions; and Richard, as he had previouslythreatened, barbarously ordered all the Saracen prisoners in his power tobe put to death. 

The possession of the city only caused new and unhappy dissensions betweenthe Christian leaders. The Archduke of Austria unjustifiably hoisted hisflag on one of the towers of Acre, which Richard no sooner saw than hetore it down with his own hands, and trampled it under his feet. Philip, though he did not sympathise with the archduke, was piqued at theassumption of Richard, and the breach between the two monarchs becamewider than ever. A foolish dispute arose at the same time between Guy ofLusignan and Conrad of Montferrat for the crown of Jerusalem. The inferiorknights were not slow to imitate the pernicious example, and jealousy, distrust, and ill-will reigned in the Christian camp. In the midst of thisconfusion the king of France suddenly announced his intention to return tohis own country. Richard was filled with indignation, and exclaimed, "Eternal shame light on him, and on all France, if, for any cause, heleave this work unfinished!" But Philip was not to be stayed. His healthhad suffered by his residence in the East; and, ambitious of playing afirst part, he preferred to play none at all than to play second to KingRichard. Leaving a small detachment of Burgundians behind, he returned toFrance with the remainder of his army; and Coeur de Lion, without feeling, in the multitude of his rivals, that he had lost the greatest, becamepainfully convinced that the right arm of the enterprise was lopped off. 

After his departure, Richard re-fortified Acre, restored the Christianworship in the churches, and, leaving a Christian garrison to protect it, marched along the sea-coast towards Ascalon. Saladin was on the alert, andsent his light horse to attack the rear of the Christian army, while hehimself, miscalculating their weakness since the defection of Philip, endeavoured to force them to a general engagement. The rival armies metnear Azotus. A fierce battle ensued, in which Saladin was defeated and putto flight, and the road to Jerusalem left free for the Crusaders. 

Again discord exerted its baleful influence, and prevented Richard fromfollowing up his victory. His opinion was constantly opposed by the otherleaders, all jealous of his bravery and influence; and the army, insteadof marching to Jerusalem, or even to Ascalon, as was first intended, proceeded to Jaffa, and remained in idleness until Saladin was again in acondition to wage war against them. 

[Illustration: BETHLEHEM. ]

Many months were spent in fruitless hostilities and as fruitlessnegotiations. Richard's wish was to recapture Jerusalem; but there weredifficulties in the way, which even his bold spirit could not conquer. Hisown intolerable pride was not the least cause of the evil; for itestranged many a generous spirit, who would have been willing toco-operate with him in all cordiality. At length it was agreed to march tothe Holy City; but the progress made was so slow and painful, that thesoldiers murmured, and the leaders meditated retreat. The weather was hotand dry, and there was little water to be procured. Saladin had choked upthe wells and cisterns on the route, and the army had not zeal enough topush forward amid such privation. At Bethlehem a council was held, todebate whether they should retreat or advance. Retreat was decided upon, and immediately commenced. It is said, that Richard was first led to ahill, whence he could obtain a sight of the towers of Jerusalem, and thathe was so affected at being so near it, and so unable to relieve it, thathe hid his face behind his shield, and sobbed aloud. 

The army separated into two divisions, the smaller falling back uponJaffa, and the larger, commanded by Richard and the Duke of Burgundy, returning to Acre. Before the English monarch had made all hispreparations for his return to Europe, a messenger reached Acre with theintelligence that Jaffa was besieged by Saladin, and that, unless relievedimmediately, the city would be taken. The French, under the Duke ofBurgundy, were so wearied with the war, that they refused to aid theirbrethren in Jaffa. Richard, blushing with shame at their pusillanimity, called his English to the rescue, and arrived just in time to save thecity. His very name put the Saracens to flight, so great was their dreadof his prowess. Saladin regarded him with the warmest admiration, and whenRichard, after his victory, demanded peace, willingly acceded. A truce wasconcluded for three years and eight months, during which Christianpilgrims were to enjoy the liberty of visiting Jerusalem without hindranceor payment of any tax. The Crusaders were allowed to retain the cities ofTyre and Jaffa, with the country intervening. Saladin, with a princelygenerosity, invited many of the Christians to visit Jerusalem; and severalof the leaders took advantage of his offer to feast their eyes upon a spotwhich all considered so sacred. Many of them were entertained for days inthe sultan's own palace, from which they returned with their tongues ladenwith the praises of the noble infidel. Richard and Saladin never met, though the impression that they did will remain on many minds, who havebeen dazzled by the glorious fiction of Sir Walter Scott. But each admiredthe prowess and nobleness of soul of his rival, and agreed to terms farless onerous than either would have accepted, had this mutual admirationnot existed. [17]

 [17] Richard left a high reputation in Palestine. So much terror did his name occasion, that the women of Syria used it to frighten their children for ages afterwards. Every disobedient child became still when told that King Richard was coming. Even men shared the panic that his name created; and a hundred years afterwards, whenever a horse shied at any object in the way, his rider would exclaim, "What! dost thou think King Richard is in the bush?"

The king of England no longer delayed his departure, for messengers fromhis own country brought imperative news that his presence was required todefeat the intrigues that were fomenting against his crown. His longimprisonment in the Austrian dominions and final ransom are too well knownto be dwelt upon. And thus ended the third Crusade, less destructive ofhuman life than the two first, but quite as useless. 

The flame of popular enthusiasm now burned pale indeed, and all theefforts of popes and potentates were insufficient to rekindle it. At last, after flickering unsteadily, like a lamp expiring in the socket, it burnedup brightly for one final instant, and was extinguished for ever. 

The fourth Crusade, as connected with popular feeling, requires little orno notice. At the death of Saladin, which happened a year after theconclusion of his truce with Richard of England, his vast empire fell topieces. His brother Saif Eddin, or Saphaddin, seized upon Syria, in thepossession of which he was troubled by the sons of Saladin. When thisintelligence reached Europe, the Pope, Celestine III. , judged the momentfavourable for preaching a new Crusade. But every nation in Europe wasunwilling and cold towards it. The people had no ardour, and kings wereoccupied with more weighty matters at home. The only monarch of Europe whoencouraged it was the Emperor Henry of Germany, under whose auspices theDukes of Saxony and Bavaria took the field at the head of a considerableforce. They landed in Palestine, and found any thing but a welcome fromthe Christian inhabitants. Under the mild sway of Saladin, they hadenjoyed repose and toleration, and both were endangered by the arrival ofthe Germans. They looked upon them in consequence as over-officiousintruders, and gave them no encouragement in the warfare againstSaphaddin. The result of this Crusade was even more disastrous than thelast; for the Germans contrived not only to embitter the Saracens againstthe Christians of Judea, but to lose the strong city of Jaffa, and causethe destruction of nine-tenths of the army with which they had quittedEurope. And so ended the fourth Crusade. 

The fifth was more important, and had a result which its projectors neverdreamed of--no less than the sacking of Constantinople, and the placing ofa French dynasty upon the imperial throne of the eastern Cæsars. Eachsucceeding pope, however much he may have differed from his predecessorson other points, zealously agreed in one, that of maintaining by everypossible means the papal ascendency. No scheme was so likely to aid inthis endeavour as the Crusades. As long as they could persuade the kingsand nobles of Europe to fight and die in Syria, their own sway was securedover the minds of men at home. Such being their object, they neverinquired whether a Crusade was or was not likely to be successful, whetherthe time were well or ill chosen, or whether men and money could beprocured in sufficient abundance. Pope Innocent III. Would have been proudif he could have bent the refractory monarchs of England and France intoso much submission. But John and Philip Augustus were both engaged. Bothhad deeply offended the Church, and had been laid under her ban, and bothwere occupied in important reforms at home; Philip in bestowing immunitiesupon his subjects, and John in having them forced from him. The emissariesof the pope therefore plied them in vain; but as in the first and secondCrusades, the eloquence of a powerful preacher incited the nobility, andthrough them a certain portion of the people; Foulque bishop of Neuilly, an ambitious and enterprising prelate, entered fully into the views of thecourt of Rome, and preached the Crusade wherever he could find anaudience. Chance favoured him to a degree he did not himself expect, forhe had in general found but few proselytes, and those few but cold in thecause. Theobald count of Champagne had instituted a grand tournament, towhich he had invited all the nobles from far and near. Upwards of twothousand knights were present with their retainers, besides a vastconcourse of people to witness the sports. In the midst of the festivitiesFoulque arrived upon the spot, and conceiving the opportunity to be afavourable one, he addressed the multitude in eloquent language, andpassionately called upon them to enrol themselves for the new Crusade. TheCount de Champagne, young, ardent, and easily excited, received the crossat his hands. The enthusiasm spread rapidly. Charles count of Bloisfollowed the example, and of the two thousand knights present, scarcelyone hundred and fifty refused. The popular phrensy seemed on the point ofbreaking out as in the days of yore. The Count of Flanders, the Count ofBar, the Duke of Burgundy, and the Marquis of Montferrat, brought alltheir vassals to swell the train, and in a very short space of time aneffective army was on foot and ready to march to Palestine. 

The dangers of an overland journey were too well understood, and theCrusaders endeavoured to make a contract with some of the Italian statesto convey them over in their vessels. Dandolo, the aged doge of Venice, offered them the galleys of the Republic; but the Crusaders, on theirarrival in that city, found themselves too poor to pay even half the sumdemanded. Every means was tried to raise money; the Crusaders melted downtheir plate, and ladies gave up their trinkets. Contributions weresolicited from the faithful, but came in so slowly as to make it evidentto all concerned, that the faithful of Europe were outnumbered by theprudent. As a last resource, Dandolo offered to convey them to Palestineat the expense of the Republic, if they would previously aid in therecapture of the city of Zara, which had been seized from the Venetians ashort time previously by the king of Hungary. The Crusaders consented, much to the displeasure of the pope, who threatened excommunication uponall who should be turned aside from the voyage to Jerusalem. Butnotwithstanding the fulminations of the Church, the expedition neverreached Palestine. The siege of Zara was speedily undertaken. After a longand brave defence, the city surrendered at discretion, and the Crusaderswere free, if they had so chosen it, to use their swords against theSaracens. But the ambition of the chiefs had been directed, by unforeseencircumstances, elsewhere. 

After the death of Manuel Comnenus, the Greek empire had fallen a prey tointestine divisions. His son Alexius II. Had succeeded him, but wasmurdered after a short reign by his uncle Andronicus, who seized upon thethrone. His reign also was but of short duration. Isaac Angelus, a memberof the same family, took up arms against the usurper, and having defeatedand captured him in a pitched battle, had him put to death. He alsomounted the throne only to be cast down from it. His brother Alexiusdeposed him, and to incapacitate him from reigning, put out his eyes, andshut him up in a dungeon. Neither was Alexius III. Allowed to remain inpeaceable possession of the throne; the son of the unhappy Isaac, whosename also was Alexius, fled from Constantinople, and hearing that theCrusaders had undertaken the siege of Zara, made them the most magnificentoffers if they would afterwards aid him in deposing his uncle. His offerswere, that if by their means he was re-established in his father'sdominions, he would place the Greek Church under the authority of the Popeof Rome, lend the whole force of the Greek empire to the conquest ofPalestine, and distribute two hundred thousand marks of silver among thecrusading army. The offer was accepted, with a proviso on the part of someof the leaders, that they should be free to abandon the design, if it metwith the disapproval of the pope. But this was not to be feared. Thesubmission of the schismatic Greeks to the See of Rome was a greater bribeto the Pontiff than the utter annihilation of the Saracen power inPalestine would have been. 

The Crusaders were soon in movement for the imperial city. Theiroperations were skilfully and courageously directed, and spread suchdismay as to paralyse the efforts of the usurper to retain possession ofhis throne. After a vain resistance, he abandoned the city to its fate, and fled no one knew whither. The aged and blind Isaac was taken from hisdungeon by his subjects, and placed upon the throne ere the Crusaders wereapprised of the flight of his rival. His son Alexius IV. Was afterwardsassociated with him in the sovereignty. 

But the conditions of the treaty gave offence to the Grecian people, whoseprelates refused to place themselves under the dominion of the See ofRome. Alexius at first endeavoured to persuade his subjects to admission, and prayed the Crusaders to remain in Constantinople until they hadfortified him in the possession of a throne which was yet far from secure. He soon became unpopular with his subjects; and breaking faith with regardto the subsidies, he offended the Crusaders. War was at length declaredupon him by both parties; by his people for his tyranny, and by his formerfriends for his treachery. He was seized in his palace by his own guardsand thrown into prison, while the Crusaders were making ready to besiegehis capital. The Greeks immediately proceeded to the election of a newmonarch; and looking about for a man of courage, energy, and perseverance, they fixed upon Alexius Ducas, who, with almost every bad quality, waspossessed of the virtues they needed. He ascended the throne under thename of Murzuphlis. One of his first acts was to rid himself of hisyoungest predecessor--a broken heart had already removed the blind oldIsaac, no longer a stumbling-block in his way--and the young Alexius wassoon after put to death in his prison. 

[Illustration: CONSTANTINOPLE. ]

War to the knife was now declared between the Greeks and the Franks; andearly in the spring of the year 1204, preparations were commenced for anassault upon Constantinople. The French and Venetians entered into atreaty for the division of the spoils among their soldiery; for soconfident were they of success, that failure never once entered into theircalculations. This confidence led them on to victory; while the Greeks, cowardly as treacherous people always are, were paralysed by a forebodingof evil. It has been a matter of astonishment to all historians, thatMurzuphlis, with the reputation for courage which he had acquired, and theimmense resources at his disposal, took no better measures to repel theonset of the Crusaders. Their numbers were as a mere handful in comparisonwith those which he could have brought against them; and if they had thehopes of plunder to lead them on, the Greeks had their homes to fight for, and their very existence as a nation to protect. After an impetuousassault, repulsed for one day, but renewed with double impetuosity onanother, the Crusaders lashed their vessels against the walls, slew everyman who opposed them, and, with little loss to themselves, entered thecity. Murzuphlis fled, and Constantinople was given over to be pillaged bythe victors. The wealth they found was enormous. In money alone there wassufficient to distribute twenty marks of silver to each knight, ten toeach squire or servant at arms, and five to each archer. Jewels, velvets, silks, and every luxury of attire, with rare wines and fruits, andvaluable merchandise of every description, also fell into their hands, andwere bought by the trading Venetians, and the proceeds distributed amongthe army. Two thousand persons were put to the sword; but had there beenless plunder to take up the attention of the victors, the slaughter wouldin all probability have been much greater. 

In many of the bloody wars which defile the page of history, we find thatsoldiers, utterly reckless of the works of God, will destroy hismasterpiece, man, with unsparing brutality, but linger with respect roundthe beautiful works of art. They will slaughter women and children, butspare a picture; will hew down the sick, the helpless, and thehoary-headed, but refrain from injuring a fine piece of sculpture. TheLatins, on their entrance into Constantinople, respected neither the worksof God nor man, but vented their brutal ferocity upon the one, andsatisfied their avarice upon the other. Many beautiful bronze statues, above all price as works of art, were broken into pieces to be sold as oldmetal. The finely-chiselled marble, which could be put to no such vileuses, was also destroyed with a recklessness, if possible, still moreatrocious. [18]

 [18] The following is a list of some of the works of art thus destroyed, from Nicetas, a contemporary Greek author: 1st. A colossal Juno, from the forum of Constantine, the head of which was so large that four horses could scarcely draw it from the place where it stood to the palace. 2d. The statue of Paris, presenting the apple to Venus. 3d. An immense bronze pyramid, crowned by a female figure, which turned with the wind. 4th. The colossal statue of Bellerophon, in bronze, which was broken down and cast into the furnace. Under the inner nail of the horse's hind foot on the left side, was found a seal wrapped in a woollen cloth. 5th. A figure of Hercules, by Lysimachus, of such vast dimensions that the thumb was equal in circumference to the waist of a man. 6th. The Ass and his Driver, cast by order of Augustus after the battle of Actium, in commemoration of his having discovered the position of Anthony through the means of an ass-driver. 7th. The Wolf suckling the Twins of Rome. 8th. The gladiator in combat with a lion. 9th. The Hippopotamus. 10th. The Sphinxes. 11th. An Eagle fighting with a Serpent. 12th. A beautiful statue of Helen. 13th. A group, with a monster somewhat resembling a bull, engaged in deadly conflict with a serpent; and many other works of art, too numerous to mention. 

The carnage being over, and the spoil distributed, six persons were chosenfrom among the Franks and six from among the Venetians, who were to meetand elect an emperor, previously binding themselves by oath to select theindividual best qualified among the candidates. The choice wavered betweenBaldwin count of Flanders and Boniface marquis of Montferrat, but felleventually upon the former. He was straightway robed in the imperialpurple, and became the founder of a new dynasty. He did not live long toenjoy his power, or to consolidate it for his successors, who, in theirturn, were soon swept away. In less than sixty years the rule of theFranks at Constantinople was brought to as sudden and disastrous atermination as the reign of Murzuphlis: and this was the grand result ofthe fifth Crusade. 

Pope Innocent III. , although he had looked with no very unfavourable eyeupon these proceedings, regretted that nothing had been done for therelief of the Holy Land; still, upon every convenient occasion, heenforced the necessity of a new Crusade. Until the year 1213, hisexhortations had no other effect than to keep the subject in the mind ofEurope. Every spring and summer detachments of pilgrims continued to setout for Palestine to the aid of their brethren, but not in sufficientnumbers to be of much service. These periodical passages were called the_passagium Martii_, or the passage of March, and the _passagium Johannis_, or the passage of the festival of St. John. These did not consist entirelyof soldiers, armed against the Saracen, but of pilgrims led by devotion, and in performance of their vows, bearing nothing with them but theirstaff and their wallet. Early in the spring of 1213 a more extraordinarybody of Crusaders was raised in France and Germany. An immense number ofboys and girls, amounting, according to some accounts, to thirty thousand, were incited by the persuasion of two monks to undertake the journey toPalestine. They were no doubt composed of the idle and deserted childrenwho generally swarm in great cities, nurtured in vice and daring, andready for any thing. The object of the monks seems to have been theatrocious one of inveigling them into slave-ships, on pretence of sendingthem to Syria, and selling them for slaves on the coast of Africa. [19]Great numbers of these poor victims were shipped at Marseilles; but thevessels, with the exception of two or three, were wrecked on the shores ofItaly, and every soul perished. The remainder arrived safely in Africa, and were bought up as slaves, and sent off into the interior of thecountry. Another detachment arrived at Genoa; but the accomplices in thishorrid plot having taken no measures at that port, expecting them all atMarseilles, they were induced to return to their homes by the Genoese. 

 [19] See Jacob de Voragine and Albericus. 

Fuller, in his quaint history of the _Holy Warre_, says that this Crusadewas done by the instinct of the devil; and he adds a reason, which mayprovoke mirth now, but which was put forth by the worthy historian in allsoberness and sincerity. He says, "the devil, being cloyed with themurdering of men, desired a cordial of children's blood to comfort hisweak stomach;" as epicures, when tired of mutton, resort to lamb for achange. 

It appears from other authors that the preaching of the vile monks hadsuch an effect upon these deluded children that they ran about thecountry, exclaiming, "O Lord Jesus, restore thy cross to us!" and thatneither bolts nor bars, the fear of fathers, nor the love of mothers, wassufficient to restrain them from journeying to Jerusalem. 

The details of these strange proceedings are exceedingly meagre andconfused, and none of the contemporary writers who mention the subjecthave thought it worth while to state the names of the monks who originatedthe scheme, or the fate they met for their wickedness. Two merchants ofMarseilles, who were to have shared in the profits, were, it is said, brought to justice for some other crime, and suffered death; but we arenot informed whether they divulged any circumstances relating to thismatter. 

Pope Innocent III. Does not seem to have been aware that the causes ofthis juvenile Crusade were such as have been stated, for, upon beinginformed that numbers of them had taken the cross, and were marching tothe Holy Land, he exclaimed, "These children are awake while we sleep!" Heimagined, apparently, that the mind of Europe was still bent on therecovery of Palestine, and that the zeal of these children implied a sortof reproach upon his own lukewarmness. Very soon afterwards, he bestirredhimself with more activity, and sent an encyclical letter to the clergy ofChristendom, urging them to preach a new Crusade. As usual, a number ofadventurous nobles, who had nothing else to do, enrolled themselves withtheir retainers. At a Council of Lateran, which was held while these bandswere collecting, Innocent announced that he himself would take the Cross, and lead the armies of Christ to the defence of his sepulchre. In allprobability he would have done so, for he was zealous enough; but deathstepped in, and destroyed his project ere it was ripe. His successorencouraged the Crusade, though he refused to accompany it; and thearmament continued in France, England, and Germany. No leaders of anyimportance joined it from the former countries. Andrew king of Hungary wasthe only monarch who had leisure or inclination to leave his dominions. The Dukes of Austria and Bavaria joined him with a considerable army ofGermans, and marching to Spalatro, took ship for Cyprus, and from thenceto Acre. 

The whole conduct of the king of Hungary was marked by pusillanimity andirresolution. He found himself in the Holy Land at the head of a veryefficient army; the Saracens were taken by surprise, and were for someweeks unprepared to offer any resistance to his arms. He defeated thefirst body sent to oppose him, and marched towards Mount Tabor with theintention of seizing upon an important fortress which the Saracens hadrecently constructed. He arrived without impediment at the mount, andmight have easily taken it; but a sudden fit of cowardice came over him, and he returned to Acre without striking a blow. He very soon afterwardsabandoned the enterprise altogether, and returned to his own country. 

Tardy reinforcements arrived at intervals from Europe; and the Duke ofAustria, now the chief leader of the expedition, had still sufficientforces at his command to trouble the Saracens very seriously. It wasresolved by him, in council with the other chiefs, that the whole energyof the Crusade should be directed upon Egypt, the seat of the Saracenpower in its relationship to Palestine, and from whence were drawn thecontinual levies that were brought against them by the sultan. Damietta, which commanded the river Nile, and was one of the most important citiesof Egypt, was chosen as the first point of attack. The siege was forthwithcommenced, and carried on with considerable energy, until the Crusadersgained possession of a tower, which projected into the middle of thestream, and was looked upon as the very key of the city. 

While congratulating themselves upon this success, and wasting in revelrythe time which should have been employed in turning it to furtheradvantage, they received the news of the death of the wise SultanSaphaddin. His two sons, Camhel and Cohreddin, divided his empire betweenthem. Syria and Palestine fell to the share of Cohreddin, while Egypt wasconsigned to the other brother, who had for some time exercised thefunctions of lieutenant of that country. Being unpopular among theEgyptians, they revolted against him, giving the Crusaders a fineropportunity for making a conquest than they had ever enjoyed before. But, quarrelsome and licentious as they had been from time immemorial, they didnot see that the favourable moment had come; or seeing, could not profitby it. While they were revelling or fighting among themselves, under thewalls of Damietta, the revolt was suppressed, and Camhel firmlyestablished on the throne of Egypt. In conjunction with his brotherCohreddin, his next care was to drive the Christians from Damietta, andfor upwards of three months they bent all their efforts to throw insupplies to the besieged, or draw on the besiegers to a generalengagement. In neither were they successful; and the famine in Damiettabecame so dreadful that vermin of every description were thought luxuries, and sold for exorbitant prices. A dead dog became more valuable than alive ox in time of prosperity. Unwholesome food brought on disease, andthe city could hold out no longer for absolute want of men to defend thewalls. 

Cohreddin and Camhel were alike interested in the preservation of soimportant a position, and, convinced of the certain fate of the city, theyopened a conference with the crusading chiefs, offering to yield the wholeof Palestine to the Christians upon the sole condition of the evacuationof Egypt. With a blindness and wrong-headedness almost incredible, theseadvantageous terms were refused, chiefly through the persuasion ofCardinal Pelagius, an ignorant and obstinate fanatic, who urged upon theDuke of Austria and the French and English leaders, that infidels neverkept their word; that their offers were deceptive, and merely intended tobetray. The conferences were brought to an abrupt termination by theCrusaders, and a last attack made upon the walls of Damietta. The besiegedmade but slight resistance, for they had no hope, and the Christiansentered the city, and found, out of seventy thousand people, but threethousand remaining: so fearful had been the ravages of the twin fiends, plague and famine. 

Several months were spent in Damietta. The climate either weakened theframes or obscured the understandings of the Christians; for, after theirconquest, they lost all energy, and abandoned themselves moreunscrupulously than ever to riot and debauchery. John of Brienne, who, byright of his wife, was the nominal sovereign of Jerusalem, was sodisgusted with the pusillanimity, arrogance, and dissensions of thechiefs, that he withdrew entirely from them and retired to Acre. Largebodies also returned to Europe, and Cardinal Pelagius was left at libertyto blast the whole enterprise whenever it pleased him. He managed toconciliate John of Brienne, and marched forward with these combined forcesto attack Cairo. It was only when he had approached within a few hours'march of that city that he discovered the inadequacy of his army. Heturned back immediately; but the Nile had risen since his departure; thesluices were opened, and there was no means of reaching Damietta. In thisstrait, he sued for the peace he had formerly spurned, and, happily forhimself, found the generous brothers Camhel and Cohreddin still willing togrant it. Damietta was soon afterwards given up, and the cardinal returnedto Europe. John of Brienne retired to Acre, to mourn the loss of hiskingdom, embittered against the folly of his pretended friends, who hadruined where they should have aided him. And thus ended the sixth Crusade. 

The seventh was more successful. Frederic II. , emperor of Germany, hadoften vowed to lead his armies to the defence of Palestine, but was asoften deterred from the journey by matters of more pressing importance. Cohreddin was a mild and enlightened monarch, and the Christians of Syriaenjoyed repose and toleration under his rule: but John of Brienne was notwilling to lose his kingdom without an effort; and the popes in Europewere ever willing to embroil the nations for the sake of extending theirown power. No monarch of that age was capable of rendering more effectiveassistance than Frederic of Germany. To inspire him with more zeal, it wasproposed that he should wed the young Princess Violante, daughter of Johnof Brienne, and heiress of the kingdom of Jerusalem. Frederic consentedwith joy and eagerness. The princess was brought from Acre to Rome withoutdelay, and her marriage celebrated on a scale of great magnificence. Herfather, John of Brienne, abdicated all his rights in favour of hisson-in-law, and Jerusalem had once more a king, who had not only the will, but the power, to enforce his claims. Preparations for the new Crusadewere immediately commenced, and in the course of six months the emperorwas at the head of a well-disciplined army of sixty thousand men. MatthewParis informs us, that an army of the same amount was gathered in England;and most of the writers upon the Crusades adopt his statement. When Johnof Brienne was in England, before his daughter's marriage with the emperorwas thought of, praying for the aid of Henry III. And his nobles torecover his lost kingdom, he did not meet with much encouragement. Grafton, in his _Chronicle_, says, "he departed again without any greatcomfort. " But when a man of more influence in European politics appearedupon the scene, the English nobles were as ready to sacrifice themselvesin the cause as they had been in the time of Coeur de Lion. 

The army of Frederic encamped at Brundusium; but a pestilential diseasehaving made its appearance among them, their departure was delayed forseveral months. In the mean time the Empress Violante died in childbed. John of Brienne, who had already repented of his abdication, and wasbesides incensed against Frederic for many acts of neglect and insult, nosooner saw the only tie which bound them severed by the death of hisdaughter, than he began to bestir himself, and make interest with the popeto undo what he had done, and regain the honorary crown he had renounced. Pope Gregory IX. , a man of a proud, unconciliating, and revengefulcharacter, owed the emperor a grudge for many an act of disobedience tohis authority, and encouraged the overtures of John of Brienne more thanhe should have done. Frederic, however, despised them both, and, as soonas his army was convalescent, set sail for Acre. He had not been many daysat sea when he was himself attacked with the malady, and obliged to returnto Otranto, the nearest port. Gregory, who had by this time decided in theinterest of John of Brienne, excommunicated the emperor for returning fromso holy an expedition on any pretext whatever. Frederic at first treatedthe excommunication with supreme contempt; but when he got well, he gavehis holiness to understand that he was not to be outraged with impunity, and sent some of his troops to ravage the papal territories. This, however, only made the matter worse, and Gregory despatched messengers toPalestine forbidding the faithful, under severe pains and penalties, tohold any intercourse with the excommunicated emperor. Thus between themboth, the scheme which they had so much at heart bade fair to be aseffectually ruined as even the Saracens could have wished. Frederic stillcontinued his zeal in the Crusade, for he was now king of Jerusalem, andfought for himself, and not for Christendom, or its representative, PopeGregory. Hearing that John of Brienne was preparing to leave Europe, helost no time in taking his own departure, and arrived safely at Acre. Itwas here that he first experienced the evil effects of excommunication. The Christians of Palestine refused to aid him in any way, and looked withdistrust, if not with abhorrence, upon him. The Templars, Hospitallers, and other knights, shared at first the general feeling; but they were notmen to yield a blind obedience to a distant potentate, especially when itcompromised their own interests. When, therefore, Frederic prepared tomarch upon Jerusalem without them, they joined his banners to a man. 

[Illustration: TEMPLAR AND HOSPITALLER. ]

It is said that, previous to quitting Europe, the German emperor hadcommenced a negotiation with the Sultan Camhel for the restoration of theHoly Land, and that Camhel, who was jealous of the ambition of his brotherCohreddin, was willing to stipulate to that effect, on condition of beingsecured by Frederic in the possession of the more important territory ofEgypt. But before the Crusaders reached Palestine, Camhel was relievedfrom all fears by the death of his brother. He nevertheless did not thinkit worth while to contest with the Crusaders the barren corner of theearth which had already been dyed with so much Christian and Saracenblood, and proposed a truce of three years, only stipulating, in addition, that the Moslems should be allowed to worship freely in the temple ofJerusalem. This happy termination did not satisfy the bigoted Christiansof Palestine. The tolerance they sought for themselves, they were notwilling to extend to others, and they complained bitterly of the privilegeof free worship allowed to their opponents. Unmerited good fortune hadmade them insolent, and they contested the right of the emperor to becomea party to any treaty, as long as he remained under the ecclesiasticalban. Frederic was disgusted with his new subjects; but, as the Templarsand Hospitallers remained true to him, he marched to Jerusalem to becrowned. All the churches were shut against him, and he could not evenfind a priest to officiate at his coronation. He had despised the papalauthority too long to quail at it now, when it was so unjustifiablyexerted, and, as there was nobody to crown him, he very wisely crownedhimself. He took the royal diadem from the altar with his own hands, andboldly and proudly placed it on his brow. No shouts of an applaudingpopulace made the welkin ring; no hymns of praise and triumph resoundedfrom the ministers of religion; but a thousand swords started from theirscabbards to testify that their owners would defend the new monarch to thedeath. 

It was hardly to be expected that he would renounce for any long periodthe dominion of his native land for the uneasy crown and barren soil ofPalestine. He had seen quite enough of his new subjects before he was sixmonths among them, and more important interests called him home. John ofBrienne, openly leagued with Pope Gregory against him, was actuallyemployed in ravaging his territories at the head of a papal army. Thisintelligence decided his return. As a preliminary step, he made those whohad contemned his authority feel, to their sorrow, that he was theirmaster. He then set sail, loaded with the curses of Palestine. And thusended the seventh Crusade, which, in spite of every obstacle anddisadvantage, had been productive of more real service to the Holy Landthan any that had gone before; a result solely attributable to the braveryof Frederic and the generosity of the Sultan Camhel. 

Soon after the emperor's departure a new claimant started for the throneof Jerusalem, in the person of Alice queen of Cyprus, and half-sister ofthe Mary who, by her marriage, had transferred her right to John ofBrienne. The grand military orders, however, clung to Frederic, and Alicewas obliged to withdraw. 

So peaceful a termination to the Crusade did not give unmixed pleasure inEurope. The chivalry of France and England were unable to rest, and longbefore the conclusion of the truce, were collecting their armies for aneighth expedition. In Palestine also the contentment was far fromuniversal. Many petty Mahomedan states in the immediate vicinity were notparties to the truce, and harassed the frontier towns incessantly. TheTemplars, ever turbulent, waged bitter war with the sultan of Aleppo, andin the end were almost exterminated. So great was the slaughter among themthat Europe resounded with the sad story of their fate, and many a nobleknight took arms to prevent the total destruction of an order associatedwith so many high and inspiring remembrances. Camhel, seeing thepreparations that were making, thought that his generosity had beensufficiently shewn, and the very day the truce was at an end assumed theoffensive, and marching forward to Jerusalem, took possession of it, afterrouting the scanty forces of the Christians. Before this intelligencereached Europe a large body of Crusaders was on the march, headed by theking of Navarre, the Duke of Burgundy, the Count de Bretagne, and otherleaders. On their arrival, they learned that Jerusalem had been taken, butthat the sultan was dead, and his kingdom torn by rival claimants to thesupreme power. The dissensions of their foes ought to have made themunited, but as in all previous Crusades, each feudal chief was master ofhis own host, and acted upon his own responsibility, and without referenceto any general plan. The consequence was that nothing could be done. Atemporary advantage was gained by one leader, who had no means ofimproving it; while another was defeated, without means of retrievinghimself. Thus the war lingered till the battle of Gaza, when the king ofNavarre was defeated with great loss, and compelled to save himself fromtotal destruction by entering into a hard and oppressive treaty with theemir of Karac. 

At this crisis aid arrived from England, commanded by Richard earl ofCornwall, the namesake of Coeur de Lion, and inheritor of his valour. Hisarmy was strong and full of hope. They had confidence in themselves and intheir leader, and looked like men accustomed to victory. Their comingchanged the aspect of affairs. The new sultan of Egypt was at war with thesultan of Damascus, and had not forces to oppose two enemies so powerful. He therefore sent messengers to meet the English earl, offering anexchange of prisoners and the complete cession of the Holy Land. Richard, who had not come to fight for the mere sake of fighting, agreed at once toterms so advantageous, and became the deliverer of Palestine withoutstriking a blow. The sultan of Egypt then turned his whole force againsthis Moslem enemies, and the Earl of Cornwall returned to Europe. Thusended the eighth Crusade, the most beneficial of all. Christendom had nofurther pretence for sending her fierce levies to the East. To allappearance the holy wars were at an end: the Christians had entirepossession of Jerusalem, Tripoli, Antioch, Edessa, Acre, Jaffa, and, infact, of nearly all Judea; and, could they have been at peace amongthemselves, they might have overcome, without great difficulty, thejealousy and hostility of their neighbours. A circumstance, as unforeseenas it was disastrous, blasted this fair prospect, and reillumed, for thelast time, the fervour and fury of the Crusades. 

Gengis Khan and his successors had swept over Asia like a tropical storm, overturning in their progress the landmarks of ages. Kingdom after kingdomwas cast down as they issued, innumerable, from the far recesses of theNorth and East, and, among others, the empire of Korasmin was overrun bythese all-conquering hordes. The Korasmins, a fierce, uncivilised race, thus driven from their homes, spread themselves, in their turn, over thesouth of Asia with fire and sword, in search of a resting-place. In theirimpetuous course they directed themselves towards Egypt, whose sultan, unable to withstand the swarm that had cast their longing eyes on thefertile valleys of the Nile, endeavoured to turn them from their course. For this purpose, he sent emissaries to Barbaquan, their leader, invitingthem to settle in Palestine; and the offer being accepted by the wildhorde, they entered the country before the Christians received theslightest intimation of their coming. It was as sudden as it wasoverwhelming. Onwards, like the simoom, they came, burning and slaying, and were at the walls of Jerusalem before the inhabitants had time to lookround them. They spared neither life nor property; they slew women andchildren, and priests at the altar, and profaned even the graves of thosewho had slept for ages. They tore down every vestige of the Christianfaith, and committed horrors unparalleled in the history of warfare. Aboutseven thousand of the inhabitants of Jerusalem sought safety in retreat;but before they were out of sight, the banner of the cross was hoistedupon the walls by the savage foe to decoy them back. The artifice was buttoo successful. The poor fugitives imagined that help had arrived fromanother direction, and turned back to regain their homes. Nearly the wholeof them were massacred, and the streets of Jerusalem ran with blood. 

[Illustration: JAFFA. ]

The Templars, Hospitallers, and Teutonic knights forgot their long andbitter animosities, and joined hand in hand to rout out this desolatingfoe. They entrenched themselves in Jaffa with all the chivalry ofPalestine that yet remained, and endeavoured to engage the sultans ofEmissa and Damascus to assist them against the common enemy. The aidobtained from the Moslems amounted at first to only four thousand men, butwith these reinforcements Walter of Brienne, the lord of Jaffa, resolvedto give battle to the Korasmins. The conflict was as deadly as despair onthe one side, and unmitigated ferocity on the other, could make it. Itlasted with varying fortune for two days, when the sultan of Emissa fledto his fortifications, and Walter of Brienne fell into the enemy's hands. The brave knight was suspended by the arms to a cross in sight of thewalls of Jaffa, and the Korasminian leader declared that he should remainin that position until the city surrendered. Walter raised his feeblevoice, not to advise surrender, but to command his soldiers to hold out tothe last. But his gallantry was unavailing. So great had been theslaughter, that out of the grand array of knights, there now remained butsixteen Hospitallers, thirty-three Templars, and three Teutonic cavaliers. These with the sad remnant of the army fled to Acre, and the Korasminswere masters of Palestine. 

The sultans of Syria preferred the Christians to this fierce horde fortheir neighbours. Even the sultan of Egypt began to regret the aid he hadgiven to such barbarous foes, and united with those of Emissa and Damascusto root them from the land. The Korasmins amounted to but twenty thousandmen, and were unable to resist the determined hostility which encompassedthem on every side. The sultans defeated them in several engagements, andthe peasantry rose up in masses to take vengeance upon them. Graduallytheir numbers were diminished. No mercy was shewn them in defeat. Barbaquan their leader was slain; and after five years of desperatestruggles, they were finally extirpated, and Palestine became once morethe territory of the Mussulmans. 

[Illustration: WILLIAM LONGSWORD. ]

A short time previous to this devastating eruption, Louis IX. Fell sick inParis, and dreamed in the delirium of his fever that he saw the Christianand Moslem host fighting before Jerusalem, and the Christians defeatedwith great slaughter. The dream made a great impression on hissuperstitious mind, and he made a solemn vow, that if ever he recoveredhis health, he would take a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. When the news ofthe misfortunes of Palestine, and the awful massacres at Jerusalem andJaffa, arrived in Europe, St. Louis remembered him of his dream. Morepersuaded than ever that it was an intimation direct from heaven, heprepared to take the cross at the head of his armies, and march to thedeliverance of the Holy Sepulchre. From that moment he doffed the royalmantle of purple and ermine, and dressed in the sober serge becoming apilgrim. All his thoughts were directed to the fulfilment of his design, and although his kingdom could but ill spare him, he made everypreparation to leave it. Pope Innocent IV. Applauded his zeal and affordedhim every assistance. He wrote to Henry III. Of England to forward thecause in his dominions, and called upon the clergy and laity all overEurope to contribute towards it. William Longsword, the celebrated Earl ofSalisbury, took the cross at the head of a great number of valiant knightsand soldiers. But the fanaticism of the people was not to be awakenedeither in France or England. Great armies were raised, but the masses nolonger sympathised. Taxation had been the great cooler of zeal. It was nolonger a disgrace even to a knight if he refused to take the cross. Rutebeuf, a French minstrel, who flourished about this time (1250), composed a dialogue between a Crusader and a non-Crusader, which thereader will find translated in Way's _Fabliaux_. The Crusader uses everyargument to persuade the non-Crusader to take up arms, and forsake everything, in the holy cause; but it is evident from the greater force of thearguments used by the non-Crusader, that he was the favourite of theminstrel. To a most urgent solicitation of his friend the Crusader, hereplies:

 "I read thee right, thou holdest good To this same land I straight should hie, And win it back with mickle blood, Nor gaine one foot of soil thereby; While here dejected and forlorn My wife and babes are left to mourn; My goodly mansion rudely marred, All trusted to my dogs to guard. But I, fair comrade, well I wot An ancient saw of pregnant wit Doth bid us keep what we have got; And troth I mean to follow it. "

This being the general feeling, it is not to be wondered at that Louis IX. Was occupied fully three years in organising his forces, and in making thenecessary preparations for his departure. When all was ready he set sailfor Cyprus, accompanied by his queen, his two brothers, the Counts d'Anjouand d'Artois, and a long train of the noblest chivalry of France. Histhird brother, the Count de Poitiers, remained behind to collect anothercorps of Crusaders, and followed him in a few months afterwards. The armyunited at Cyprus, and amounted to fifty thousand men, exclusive of theEnglish Crusaders under William Longsword. Again, a pestilential diseasemade its appearance, to which many hundreds fell victims. It was inconsequence found necessary to remain in Cyprus until the spring. Louisthen embarked for Egypt with his whole host; but a violent tempestseparated his fleet, and he arrived before Damietta with only a fewthousand men. They were, however, impetuous and full of hope; and althoughthe Sultan Melick Shah was drawn up on the shore with a force infinitelysuperior, it was resolved to attempt a landing without waiting the arrivalof the rest of the army. Louis himself, in wild impatience, sprang fromhis boat, and waded on shore; while his army, inspired by his enthusiasticbravery, followed, shouting the old war-cry of the first Crusaders, _Dieule veut! Dieu le veut!_ A panic seized the Turks. A body of their cavalryattempted to bear down upon the Crusaders, but the knights fixed theirlarge shields deep in the sands of the shore, and rested their lances uponthem, so that they projected above, and formed a barrier so imposing, thatthe Turks, afraid to breast it, turned round and fairly took to flight. Atthe moment of this panic, a false report was spread in the Saracen host, that the sultan had been slain. The confusion immediately becamegeneral--the _deroute_ was complete: Damietta itself was abandoned, andthe same night the victorious Crusaders fixed their head-quarters in thatcity. The soldiers who had been separated from their chief by the tempestarrived shortly afterwards; and Louis was in a position to justify thehope, not only of the conquest of Palestine, but of Egypt itself. 

But too much confidence proved the bane of his army. They thought, as theyhad accomplished so much, that nothing more remained to be done, and gavethemselves up to ease and luxury. When, by the command of Louis, theymarched towards Cairo, they were no longer the same men; success, insteadof inspiring, had unnerved them; debauchery had brought on disease, anddisease was aggravated by the heat of a climate to which none of them wereaccustomed. Their progress towards Massoura, on the road to Cairo, waschecked by the Thanisian canal, on the banks of which the Saracens weredrawn up to dispute the passage. Louis gave orders that a bridge should bethrown across: and the operations commenced under cover of twocat-castles, or high movable towers. The Saracens soon destroyed them bythrowing quantities of Greek fire, the artillery of that day, upon them, and Louis was forced to think of some other means of effecting his design. A peasant agreed, for a considerable bribe, to point out a ford where thearmy might wade across, and the Count d'Artois was despatched withfourteen hundred men to attempt it, while Louis remained to face theSaracens with the main body of the army. The Count d'Artois got safelyover, and defeated the detachment that had been sent to oppose hislanding. Flushed with the victory, the brave count forgot the inferiorityof his numbers, and pursued the panic-stricken enemy into Massoura. He wasnow completely cut off from the aid of his brother Crusaders, which theMoslems perceiving, took courage and returned upon him, with a forceswollen by the garrison of Massoura, and by reinforcements from thesurrounding districts. The battle now became hand to hand. The Christiansfought with the energy of desperate men, but the continually increasingnumbers of the foe surrounded them completely, and cut off all hope, either of victory or escape. The Count d'Artois was among the foremost ofthe slain; and when Louis arrived to the rescue, the brave advanced-guardwas nearly cut to pieces. Of the fourteen hundred but three hundredremained. The fury of the battle was now increased threefold. The Frenchking and his troops performed prodigies of valour, and the Saracens, underthe command of the Emir Ceccidun, fought as if they were determined toexterminate, in one last decisive effort, the new European swarm that hadsettled upon their coast. At the fall of the evening dews the Christianswere masters of the field of Massoura, and flattered themselves that theywere the victors. Self-love would not suffer them to confess that theSaracens had withdrawn, and not retreated; but their leaders were toowofully convinced that that fatal field had completed the disorganisationof the Christian army, and that all hopes of future conquest were at anend. 

Impressed with this truth, the Crusaders sued for peace. The sultaninsisted upon the immediate evacuation of Damietta, and that Louis himselfshould be delivered as hostage for the fulfilment of the condition. Hisarmy at once refused, and the negotiations were broken off. It was nowresolved to attempt a retreat; but the agile Saracens, now in the frontand now in the rear, rendered it a matter of extreme difficulty, and cutoff the stragglers in great numbers. Hundreds of them were drowned in theNile; and sickness and famine worked sad ravages upon those who escapedall other casualties. Louis himself was so weakened by disease, fatigue, and discouragement, that he was hardly able to sit upon his horse. In theconfusion of the flight he was separated from his attendants, and left atotal stranger upon the sands of Egypt, sick, weary, and almostfriendless. One knight, Geffry de Sergines, alone attended him, and ledhim to a miserable hut in a small village, where for several days he layin the hourly expectation of death. He was at last discovered and takenprisoner by the Saracens, who treated him with all the honour due to hisrank and all the pity due to his misfortunes. Under their care his healthrapidly improved, and the next consideration was that of his ransom. 

The Saracens demanded, besides money, the cession of Acre, Tripoli, andother cities of Palestine. Louis unhesitatingly refused, and conductedhimself with so much pride and courage that the sultan declared he was theproudest infidel he had ever beheld. After a good deal of haggling, thesultan agreed to waive these conditions, and a treaty was finallyconcluded. The city of Damietta was restored; a truce of ten years agreedupon, and ten thousand golden bezants paid for the release of Louis andthe liberation of all the captives. Louis then withdrew to Jaffa, andspent two years in putting that city, and Cesarea, with the otherpossessions of the Christians in Palestine, into a proper state ofdefence. He then returned to his own country, with great reputation as asaint, but very little as a soldier. 

Matthew Paris informs us that, in the year 1250, while Louis was in Egypt, "thousands of the English were resolved to go to the holy war, had not theking strictly guarded his ports and kept his people from running out ofdoors. " When the news arrived of the reverses and captivity of the Frenchking, their ardour cooled; and the Crusade was sung of only, but notspoken of. 

In France, a very different feeling was the result. The news of the king'scapture spread consternation through the country. A fanatic monk ofCiteaux suddenly appeared in the villages, preaching to the people, andannouncing that the Holy Virgin, accompanied by a whole army of saints andmartyrs, had appeared to him, and commanded him to stir up the shepherdsand farm-labourers to the defence of the cross. To them only was hisdiscourse addressed; and his eloquence was such, that thousands flockedaround him, ready to follow wherever he should lead. The pastures and thecorn-fields were deserted, and the shepherds, or _pastoureaux_, as theywere termed, became at last so numerous as to amount to upwards of fiftythousand, --Millot says one hundred thousand men. [20] The Queen Blanche, who governed as regent during the absence of the king, encouraged at firstthe armies of the _pastoureaux_; but they soon gave way to such vileexcesses that the peaceably disposed were driven to resistance. Robbery, murder, and violation marked their path; and all good men, assisted by thegovernment, united in putting them down. They were finally dispersed, butnot before three thousand of them had been massacred. Many authors saythat the slaughter was still greater. 

 [20] _Elémens de l'Histoire de France_. 

The ten years' truce concluded in 1264, and St. Louis was urged by twopowerful motives to undertake a second expedition for the relief ofPalestine. These were, fanaticism on the one hand, and a desire ofretrieving his military fame on the other, which had suffered more thanhis parasites liked to remind him of. The pope, of course, encouraged hisdesign, and once more the chivalry of Europe began to bestir themselves. In 1268, Edward, the heir of the English monarchy, announced hisdetermination to join the Crusade; and the pope (Clement IV. ) wrote to theprelates and clergy to aid the cause by their persuasions and theirrevenues. In England, they agreed to contribute a tenth of theirpossessions; and by a parliamentary order, a twentieth was taken from thecorn and movables of all the laity at Michaelmas. 

In spite of the remonstrances of the few clear-headed statesmen whosurrounded him, urging the ruin that might in consequence fall upon histhen prosperous kingdom, Louis made every preparation for his departure. The warlike nobility were nothing loath; and in the spring of 1270, theking set sail with an army of sixty thousand men. He was driven by stressof weather into Sardinia, and while there, a change in his plans tookplace. Instead of proceeding to Acre, as he originally intended, he shapedhis course for Tunis, on the African coast. The king of Tunis had sometime previously expressed himself favourably disposed towards theChristians and their religion, and Louis, it appears, had hopes ofconverting him, and securing his aid against the sultan of Egypt. "Whathonour would be mine, " he used to say, "if I could become godfather tothis Mussulman king!" Filled with this idea he landed in Africa, near thesite of the city of Carthage, but found that he had reckoned without hishost. The king of Tunis had no thoughts of renouncing his religion, norintention of aiding the Crusaders in any way. On the contrary, he opposedtheir landing with all the forces that could be collected on so sudden anemergency. The French, however, made good their first position, anddefeated the Moslems with considerable loss. They also gained someadvantage over the reinforcements that were sent to oppose them; but aninfectious flux appeared in the army, and put a stop to all futurevictories. The soldiers died at the rate of a hundred in a day. The enemy, at the same time, made as great havoc as the plague. St. Louis himself wasone of the first attacked by the disease. His constitution had beenweakened by fatigues, and even before he left France he was unable to bearthe full weight of his armour. It was soon evident to his sorrowingsoldiers that their beloved monarch could not long survive. He lingeredfor some days, and died in Carthage in the fifty-sixth year of his age, deeply regretted by his army and his subjects, and leaving behind him oneof the most singular reputations in history. He is the model-king ofecclesiastical writers, in whose eyes his very defects became virtues, because they were manifested in furtherance of their cause. Moreunprejudiced historians, while they condemn his fanaticism, admit that hewas endowed with many high and rare qualities; that he was in no one pointbehind his age, and in many in advance of it. 

His brother, Charles of Anjou, in consequence of a revolution in Sicily, had become king of that country. Before he heard of the death of Louis, hehad sailed from Messina with large reinforcements. On his landing nearCarthage, he advanced at the head of his army, amid the martial music ofdrums and trumpets. He was soon informed how inopportune was hisrejoicing, and shed tears before his whole army, such as no warrior wouldhave been ashamed to shed. A peace was speedily agreed upon with the kingof Tunis, and the armies of France and Sicily returned to their homes. 

[Illustration: SEAL OF EDWARD I. ]

So little favour had the Crusade found in England, that even the exertionsof the heir to the throne had only collected a small force of fifteenhundred men. With these few Prince Edward sailed from Dover to Bourdeaux, in the expectation that he would find the French king in that city. St. Louis, however, had left a few weeks previously; upon which Edwardfollowed him to Sardinia, and afterwards to Tunis. Before his arrival inAfrica, St. Louis was no more, and peace had been concluded between Franceand Tunis. He determined, however, not to relinquish the Crusade. Returning to Sicily, he passed the winter in that country, and endeavouredto augment his little army. In the spring he set sail for Palestine, andarrived in safety at Acre. The Christians were torn, as usual, by mutualjealousies and animosities. The two great military orders were as virulentand as intractable as ever; opposed to each other, and to all the world. The arrival of Edward had the effect of causing them to lay aside theirunworthy contention, and of uniting heart to heart in one last effort forthe deliverance of their adopted country. A force of six thousandeffective warriors was soon formed to join those of the English prince, and preparations were made for the renewal of hostilities. The SultanBibars or Bendocdar, [21] a fierce Mamluke, who had been placed on thethrone by a bloody revolution, was at war with all his neighbours, andunable, for that reason, to concentrate his whole strength against them. Edward took advantage of this, and marching boldly forward to Nazareth, defeated the Turks and gained possession of that city. This was the wholeamount of his successes. The hot weather engendered disease among histroops, and he himself, the life and soul of the expedition, fell sickamong the first. He had been ill for some time, and was slowly recovering, when a messenger desired to speak with him on important matters, and todeliver some despatches into his own hand. While the prince was occupiedin examining them, the traitorous messenger drew a dagger from his beltand stabbed him in the breast. The wound fortunately was not deep, andEdward had regained a portion of his strength. He struggled with theassassin, and put him to death with his own dagger, at the same timecalling loudly for assistance. [22] His attendants came at his call, andfound him bleeding profusely, and ascertained on inspection that thedagger was poisoned. Means were instantly taken to purify the wound, andan antidote was sent by the Grand Master of the Templars which removed alldanger from the effects of the poison. Camden, in his history, has adoptedthe more popular, and certainly more beautiful version of this story, which says that the Princess Eleonora, in her love for her gallanthusband, sucked the poison from his wound at the risk of her own life: touse the words of old Fuller, "it is a pity so pretty a story should not betrue; and that so sovereign a remedy as a woman's tongue, anointed withthe virtue of loving affection, " should not have performed the good deed. 

 [21] Mills, in his history, gives the name of this chief as "Al Malek al Dhaker Rok neddin Abulfeth Bibars al Ali al Bundokdari al Salehi. "

 [22] The reader will recognise the incident which Sir Walter Scott has introduced into his beautiful romance, _The Talisman_, and which, with the license claimed by poets and romancers, he represents as having befallen King Richard I. 

Edward suspected, and doubtless not without reason, that the assassin wasemployed by the sultan of Egypt. But it amounted to suspicion only; and bythe sudden death of the assassin the principal clue to the discovery ofthe truth was lost for ever. Edward, on his recovery, prepared to resumethe offensive; but the sultan, embarrassed by the defence of interestswhich, for the time being, he considered of more importance, made offersof peace to the Crusaders. This proof of weakness on the part of the enemywas calculated to render a man of Edward's temperament more anxious toprosecute the war; but he had also other interests to defend. News arrivedin Palestine of the death of his father, King Henry III. ; and his presencebeing necessary in England, he agreed to the terms of the sultan. Thesewere, that the Christians should be allowed to retain their possessions inthe Holy Land, and that a truce of ten years should be proclaimed. Edwardthen set sail for England; and thus ended the last Crusade. 

The after-fate of the Holy Land may be told in a few words. TheChristians, unmindful of their past sufferings and of the jealousneighbours they had to deal with, first broke the truce by plundering someEgyptian traders near Margat. The sultan immediately revenged the outrageby taking possession of Margat, and war once more raged between thenations. Margat made a gallant defence, but no reinforcements arrived fromEurope to prevent its fall. Tripoli was the next, and other cities insuccession, until at last Acre was the only city of Palestine thatremained in possession of the Christians. 

[Illustration: TOMB OF QUEEN ELEANOR. ]

The Grand Master of the Templars collected together his small and devotedband, and, with the trifling aid afforded by the King of Cyprus, preparedto defend to the death the last possession of his order. Europe was deafto his cry for aid, the numbers of the foe were overwhelming, and devotedbravery was of no avail. In that disastrous siege the Christians were allbut exterminated. The king of Cyprus fled when he saw that resistance wasvain, and the Grand Master fell at the head of his knights, pierced with ahundred wounds. Seven Templars, and as many Hospitallers, alone escapedfrom the dreadful carnage. The victorious Moslems then set fire to thecity, and the rule of the Christians in Palestine was brought to a closefor ever. 

This intelligence spread alarm and sorrow among the clergy of Europe, whoendeavoured to rouse once more the energy and enthusiasm of the nations inthe cause of the Holy Land. But the popular mania had run its career; thespark of zeal had burned its appointed time, and was never again to bere-illumined. Here and there a solitary knight announced his determinationto take up arms, and now and then a king gave cold encouragement to thescheme; but it dropped almost as soon as spoken of, to be renewed again, still more feebly, at some longer interval. 

Now what was the grand result of all these struggles? Europe expendedmillions of her treasures, and the blood of two millions of her children;and a handful of quarrelsome knights retained possession of Palestine forabout one hundred years! Even had Christendom retained it to this day, theadvantage, if confined to that, would have been too dearly purchased. Butnotwithstanding the fanaticism that originated, and the folly thatconducted them, the Crusades were not productive of unmitigated evil. Thefeudal chiefs became better members of society by coming in contact, inAsia, with a civilisation superior to their own; the people secured somesmall instalments of their rights; kings, no longer at war with theirnobility, had time to pass some good laws; the human mind learned somelittle wisdom from hard experience, and, casting off the slough ofsuperstition in which the Roman clergy had so long enveloped it, becameprepared to receive the seeds of the approaching Reformation. Thus did theall-wise Disposer of events bring good out of evil, and advance thecivilisation and ultimate happiness of the nations of the West by means ofthe very fanaticism that had led them against the East. But the wholesubject is one of absorbing interest, and, if carried fully out in all itsbearings, would consume more space than the plan of this work will allow. The philosophic student will draw his own conclusions; and he can have nobetter field for the exercise of his powers than this Europeanmadness--its advantages and disadvantages, its causes and results. 

[Illustration: ARRAS. ]

THE WITCH MANIA. 

 What wrath of gods, or wicked influence Of tears, conspiring wretched men t' afflict, Hath pour'd on earth this noyous pestilence That mortal minds doth inwardly infect With love of blindness and of ignorance? _Spencer's Tears of the Muses_. 

 _Countrymen. _ Hang her! beat her! kill her!

 _Justice. _ How now? Forbear this violence!

 _Mother Sawyer. _ A crew of villains--a knot of bloody hangmen! set to torment me! I know not why. 

 _Justice. _ Alas, neighbour Banks! are you a ringleader in mischief? Fie! to abuse an aged woman!

 _Banks. _ Woman! a she hell-cat, a witch! To prove her one, we no sooner set fire on the thatch of her house, but in she came running, as if the devil had sent her in a barrel of gunpowder. 

 _Ford's Witch of Edmonton_. 

The belief that disembodied spirits may be permitted to revisit this worldhas its foundation upon that sublime hope of immortality which is at oncethe chief solace and greatest triumph of our reason. Even if revelationdid not teach us, we feel that we have that within us which shall neverdie; and all our experience of this life but makes us cling the morefondly to that one repaying hope. But in the early days of "littleknowledge" this grand belief became the source of a whole train ofsuperstitions, which, in their turn, became the fount from whence flowed adeluge of blood and horror. Europe, for a period of two centuries and ahalf, brooded upon the idea, not only that parted spirits walked the earthto meddle in the affairs of men, but that men had power to summon evilspirits to their aid to work woe upon their fellows. An epidemic terrorseized upon the nations; no man thought himself secure, either in hisperson or possessions, from the machinations of the devil and his agents. Every calamity that befell him he attributed to a witch. If a storm aroseand blew down his barn, it was witchcraft; if his cattle died of amurrain--if disease fastened upon his limbs, or death entered suddenly andsnatched a beloved face from his hearth--they were not visitations ofProvidence, but the works of some neighbouring hag, whose wretchedness orinsanity caused the ignorant to raise their finger and point at her as awitch. The word was upon every body's tongue. France, Italy, Germany, England, Scotland, and the far north successively ran mad upon thissubject, and for a long series of years furnished their tribunals with somany trials for witchcraft, that other crimes were seldom or never spokenof. Thousands upon thousands of unhappy persons fell victims to this crueland absurd delusion. In many cities of Germany, as will be shewn morefully in its due place hereafter, the average number of executions forthis pretended crime was six hundred annually, or two every day, if weleave out the Sundays, when it is to be supposed that even this madnessrefrained from its work. 

A misunderstanding of the famous text of the Mosaic law, "Thou shalt notsuffer a witch to live, " no doubt led many conscientious men astray, whosesuperstition, warm enough before, wanted but a little corroboration toblaze out with desolating fury. In all ages of the world men have tried tohold converse with superior beings, and to pierce by their means thesecrets of futurity. In the time of Moses, it is evident that there wereimpostors who trafficked upon the credulity of mankind, and insulted thesupreme majesty of the true God by pretending to the power of divination. Hence the law which Moses, by Divine command, promulgated against thesecriminals; but it did not follow, as the superstitious monomaniacs of themiddle ages imagined, that the Bible established the existence of thepower of divination by its edicts against those who pretended to it. Fromthe best authorities, it appears that the Hebrew word, which has beenrendered _venefica_ and _witch_, means a poisoner and divineress, adabbler in spells, or fortune-teller. The modern witch was a verydifferent character, and joined to her pretended power of foretellingfuture events that of working evil upon the life, limbs, and possessionsof mankind. This power was only to be acquired by an express compact, signed in blood, with the devil himself, by which the wizard or witchrenounced baptism, and sold his or her immortal soul to the evil one, without any saving clause of redemption. 

There are so many wondrous appearances in nature for which science andphilosophy cannot even now account, that it is not surprising that, whennatural laws were still less understood, men should have attributed tosupernatural agency every appearance which they could not otherwiseexplain. The merest tyro now understands various phenomena which thewisest of old could not fathom. The schoolboy knows why, upon highmountains, there should on certain occasions appear three or four suns inthe firmament at once, and why the figure of a traveller upon one eminenceshould be reproduced, inverted and of a gigantic stature, upon another. Weall know the strange pranks which imagination can play in certaindiseases; that the hypochondriac can see visions and spectres; and thatthere have been cases in which men were perfectly persuaded that they wereteapots. Science has lifted up the veil, and rolled away all the fantastichorrors in which our forefathers shrouded these and similar cases. The manwho now imagines himself a wolf is sent to the hospital instead of to thestake, as in the days of the witch mania; and earth, air, and sea areunpeopled of the grotesque spirits that were once believed to haunt them. 

Before entering further into the history of Witchcraft, it may be as wellif we consider the absurd impersonation of the evil principle formed bythe monks in their legends. We must make acquaintance with the _primummobile_, and understand what sort of a personage it was who gave thewitches, in exchange for their souls, the power to torment theirfellow-creatures. The popular notion of the devil was, that he was alarge, ill-formed, hairy sprite, with horns, a long tail, cloven feet, anddragon's wings. In this shape he was constantly brought on the stage bythe monks in their early "miracles" and "mysteries. " In theserepresentations he was an important personage, and answered the purpose ofthe clown in the modern pantomime. The great fun for the people was to seehim well belaboured by the saints with clubs or cudgels, and to hear himhowl with pain as he limped off, maimed by the blow of some vigorousanchorite. St. Dunstan generally served him the glorious trick for whichhe is renowned, catching hold of his nose with a pair of red-hot pincers, till

 "Rocks and distant dells resounded with his cries. "

Some of the saints spat in his face, to his very great annoyance; andothers chopped pieces off of his tail, which, however, always grew onagain. This was paying him in his own coin, and amused the populacemightily, for they all remembered the scurvy tricks he had played them andtheir forefathers. It was believed that he endeavoured to trip people upby laying his long invisible tail in their way, and giving it a suddenwhisk when their legs were over it;--that he used to get drunk, and swearlike a trooper, and be so mischievous in his cups as to raise tempests andearthquakes, to destroy the fruits of the earth, and the barns andhomesteads of true believers;--that he used to run invisible spits intopeople by way of amusing himself in the long winter evenings, and toproceed to taverns and regale himself with the best, offering in paymentpieces of gold which, on the dawn of the following morning, invariablyturned into slates. Sometimes, disguised as a large drake, he used to lurkamong the bulrushes, and frighten the weary traveller out of his wits byhis awful quack. The reader will remember the lines of Burns in hisaddress to the "De'il, " which so well express the popular notion on thispoint:

 "Ae dreary, windy, winter night, The stars shot down wi' sklentin light, Wi' you mysel, I got a fright Ayont the lough; Ye, like a rash-bush, stood in sight Wi' waving sough. 

 The cudgel in my nieve did shake, Each bristled hair stood like a stake, When wi' an eldritch stour, 'quaick! quaick!' Among the springs Awa' ye squattered, like a drake, On whistling wings. "

In all the stories circulated and believed about him, he was representedas an ugly, petty, mischievous spirit, who rejoiced in playing off allmanner of fantastic tricks upon poor humanity. Milton seems to have beenthe first who succeeded in giving any but a ludicrous description of him. The sublime pride, which is the quintessence of evil, was unconceivedbefore his time. All other limners made him merely grotesque, but Miltonmade him awful. In this the monks shewed themselves but miserableromancers; for their object undoubtedly was to represent the fiend asterrible as possible. But there was nothing grand about their Satan; onthe contrary, he was a low, mean devil, whom it was easy to circumvent, and fine fun to play tricks with. But, as is well and eloquently remarkedby a modern writer, [23] the subject has also its serious side. An Indiandeity, with its wild distorted shape and grotesque attitude, appearsmerely ridiculous when separated from its accessories and viewed bydaylight in a museum; but restore it to the darkness of its own hideoustemple, bring back to our recollection the victims that have bled upon itsaltar or been crushed beneath its car, and our sense of the ridiculoussubsides into aversion and horror. So, while the superstitious dreams offormer times are regarded as mere speculative insanities, we may be for amoment amused with the wild incoherencies of the patients; but when wereflect that out of these hideous misconceptions of the principle of evilarose the belief in witchcraft--that this was no dead faith, but oneoperating on the whole being of society, urging on the wisest and themildest to deeds of murder, or cruelties scarcely less than murder--thatthe learned and the beautiful, young and old, male and female, weredevoted by its influence to the stake and the scaffold--every feelingdisappears, except that of astonishment that such things could be, andhumiliation at the thought that the delusion was as lasting as it wasuniversal. 

 [23] See article on "Demonology" in the sixth volume of the _Foreign Quarterly Review_. 

Besides this chief personage, there was an infinite number of inferiordemons, who played conspicuous parts in the creed of witchcraft. The pagesof Bekker, Leloyer, Bodin, Delrio, and De Lancre, abound with descriptionsof the qualities of these imps, and the functions which were assignedthem. From these authors, --three of whom were commissioners for the trialof witches, and who wrote from the confessions made by the supposedcriminals and the evidence delivered against them, --and from the morerecent work of M. Jules Garinet, the following summary of the creed hasbeen, with great pains, extracted. The student who is desirous of knowingmore is referred to the works in question; he will find enough in everyleaf to make his blood curdle with shame and horror: but the purity ofthese pages shall not be soiled by any thing so ineffably humiliating anddisgusting as a complete exposition of them; what is here culled will be asufficient sample of the popular belief, and the reader would but losetime who should seek in the writings of the demonologists for more ampledetails. He will gain nothing by lifting the veil which covers theirunutterable obscenities, unless, like Sterne, he wishes to gather freshevidence of "what a beast man is. " In that case, he will find plenty thereto convince him that the beast would be libelled by the comparison. 

It was thought that the earth swarmed with millions of demons of bothsexes, many of whom, like the human race, traced their lineage up to Adam, who after the fall was led astray by devils, assuming the forms ofbeautiful women to deceive him. These demons "increased and multiplied"among themselves with the most extraordinary rapidity. Their bodies wereof the thin air, and they could pass through the hardest substances withthe greatest ease. They had no fixed residence or abiding place, but weretossed to and fro in the immensity of space. When thrown together in greatmultitudes, they excited whirlwinds in the air and tempests in the waters, and took delight in destroying the beauty of nature and the monuments ofthe industry of man. Although they increased among themselves likeordinary creatures, their numbers were daily augmented by the souls ofwicked men, of children still-born, of women who died in childbed, and ofpersons killed in duels. The whole air was supposed to be full of them, and many unfortunate men and women drew them by thousands into theirmouths and nostrils at every inspiration; and the demons, lodging in theirbowels or other parts of their bodies, tormented them with pains anddiseases of every kind, and sent them frightful dreams. St. Gregory ofNice relates a story of a nun who forgot to say her _benedicite_ and makethe sign of the cross before she sat down to supper, and who inconsequence swallowed a demon concealed among the leaves of a lettuce. Most persons said the number of these demons was so great that they couldnot be counted, but Wierus asserted that they amounted to no more thanseven millions four hundred and five thousand nine hundred and twenty-six;and that they were divided into seventy-two companies or battalions, toeach of which there was a prince or captain. They could assume any shapethey pleased. When they were male, they were called incubi; and whenfemale, succubi. They sometimes made themselves hideous; and at othertimes they assumed shapes of such transcendent loveliness, that mortaleyes never saw beauty to compete with theirs. 

Although the devil and his legions could appear to mankind at any time, itwas generally understood that he preferred the night between Friday andSaturday. If Satan himself appeared in human shape, he was never perfectlyand in all respects like a man. He was either too black or too white, toolarge or too small, or some of his limbs were out of proportion to therest of his body. Most commonly his feet were deformed, and he was obligedto curl up and conceal his tail in some part of his habiliments; for, takewhat shape he would, he could not get rid of that encumbrance. Hesometimes changed himself into a tree or a river; and upon one occasion hetransformed himself into a barrister, as we learn from Wierus, book iv. Chapter 9. In the reign of Philippe le Bel, he appeared to a monk in theshape of a dark man riding a tall black horse, then as a friar, afterwardsas an ass and finally as a coach-wheel. Instances are not rare in whichboth he and his inferior demons have taken the form of handsome young men, and, successfully concealing their tails, have married beautiful youngwomen, who have had children by them. Such children were easilyrecognisable by their continual shrieking, by their requiring five nursesto suckle them, and by their never growing fat. 

All these demons were at the command of any individual who would give uphis immortal soul to the prince of evil for the privilege of enjoyingtheir services for a stated period. The wizard or witch could send them toexecute the most difficult missions: whatever the witch commanded wasperformed, except it was a good action, in which case the order wasdisobeyed, and evil worked upon herself instead. 

At intervals, according to the pleasure of Satan, there was a generalmeeting of the demons and all the witches. This meeting was called theSabbath, from its taking place on the Saturday, or immediately aftermidnight on Fridays. These sabbaths were sometimes held for one district, sometimes for another, and once at least every year it was held on theBrocken, or among other high mountains, as a general sabbath of the fiendsfor the whole of Christendom. 

The devil generally chose a place where four roads met as the scene ofthis assembly, or if that was not convenient, the neighbourhood of a lake. Upon this spot nothing would ever afterwards grow, as the hot feet of thedemons and witches burnt the principle of fecundity from the earth, andrendered it barren for ever. When orders had been once issued for themeeting of the sabbath, all the wizards and witches who failed to attendit were lashed by demons with a rod made of serpents or scorpions, as apunishment for their inattention or want of punctuality. 

In France and England the witches were supposed to ride uniformly uponbroomsticks; but in Italy and Spain, the devil himself, in the shape of agoat, used to transport them on his back, which lengthened or shortenedaccording to the number of witches he was desirous of accommodating. Nowitch, when proceeding to the sabbath, could get out by a door or window, were she to try ever so much. Their general mode of ingress was by thekeyhole, and of egress by the chimney, up which they flew, broom and all, with the greatest ease. To prevent the absence of the witches from beingnoticed by their neighbours, some inferior demon was commanded to assumetheir shapes and lie in their beds, feigning illness, until the sabbathwas over. 

When all the wizards and witches had arrived at the place of rendezvous, the infernal ceremonies of the sabbath began. Satan, having assumed hisfavourite shape of a large he-goat, with a face in front and another inhis haunches, took his seat upon a throne; and all present, in succession, paid their respects to him, and kissed him in his face behind. This done, he appointed a master of the ceremonies, in company with whom he made apersonal examination of all the wizards and witches, to see whether theyhad the secret mark about them by which they were stamped as the devil'sown. This mark was always insensible to pain. Those who had not yet beenmarked, received the mark from the master of the ceremonies, the devil atthe same time bestowing nicknames upon them. This done, they all began tosing and dance in the most furious manner, until some one arrived who wasanxious to be admitted into their society. They were then silent for awhile, until the new-comer had denied his salvation, kissed the devil, spat upon the Bible, and sworn obedience to him in all things. They thenbegan dancing again with all their might, and singing these words, "Alegremos, Alegremos! Que gente va tenemos!"

In the course of an hour or two they generally became wearied of thisviolent exercise, and then they all sat down and recounted the evil deedsthey had done since their last meeting. Those who had not been maliciousand mischievous enough towards their fellow-creatures, received personalchastisement from Satan himself, who flogged them with thorns or scorpionstill they were covered with blood, and unable to sit or stand. 

When this ceremony was concluded, they were all amused by a dance oftoads. Thousands of these creatures sprang out of the earth, and standingon their hind legs, danced, while the devil played the bagpipes or thetrumpet. These toads were all endowed with the faculty of speech, andentreated the witches to reward them with the flesh of unbaptised babesfor their exertions to give them pleasure. The witches promisedcompliance. The devil bade them remember to keep their word; and thenstamping his foot, caused all the toads to sink into the earth in aninstant. The place being thus cleared, preparation was made for thebanquet, where all manner of disgusting things were served up and greedilydevoured by the demons and witches; although the latter were sometimesregaled with choice meats and expensive wines from golden plates andcrystal goblets; but they were never thus favoured unless they had done anextraordinary number of evil deeds since the last period of meeting. 

After the feast, they began dancing again; but such as had no relish forany more exercise in that way, amused themselves by mocking the holysacrament of baptism. For this purpose, the toads were again called up, and sprinkled with filthy water; the devil making the sign of the cross, and all the witches calling out, "_In nomine Patricâ, Aragueaco Petrica, agora! agora! Valentia, jouando goure gaits goustia!_" which meant, "Inthe name of Patrick, Petrick of Aragon, now, now, all our ills are over!"

When the devil wished to be particularly amused, he made the witches stripoff their clothes and dance before him, each with a cat tied round herneck, and another dangling from her body in form of a tail. When the cockcrew, they all disappeared, and the sabbath was ended. 

This is a summary of the belief which prevailed for many centuries nearlyall over Europe, and which is far from eradicated even at this day. It wasvaried in some respects in several countries, but the main points were thesame in France, Germany, Great Britain, Italy, Spain, and the far North ofEurope. 

The early annals of France abound with stories of supposed sorcery, but itwas not until the time of Charlemagne that the crime acquired any greatimportance. "This monarch, " says M. Jules Garinet, [24] "had several timesgiven orders that all necromancers, astrologers, and witches should bedriven from his states; but as the number of criminals augmented daily, hefound it necessary at last to resort to severer measures. In consequence, he published several edicts, which may be found at length in the_Capitulaire de Baluse_. By these, every sort of magic, enchantment, andwitchcraft was forbidden; and the punishment of death decreed againstthose who in any way evoked the devil, compounded love-philters, afflictedeither man or woman with barrenness, troubled the atmosphere, excitedtempests, destroyed the fruits of the earth, dried up the milk of cows, ortormented their fellow-creatures with sores and diseases. All personsfound guilty of exercising these execrable arts were to be executedimmediately upon conviction, that the earth might be rid of the burden andcurse of their presence; and those even who consulted them might also bepunished with death. "[25]

 [24] _Histoire de la Magie en France_. Rois de la seconde race, p. 29. 

 [25] M. Michaud, in his _History of the Crusades_, M. Guinguené, in his _Literary History of Italy_, and some other critics, have objected to Tasso's poem, that he has attributed to the Crusaders a belief in magic, which did not exist at that time. If these critics had referred to the edicts of Charlemagne, they would have seen that Tasso was right, and that a disposition too eager to spy out imperfections in a great work was leading themselves into error. 

After this time, prosecutions for witchcraft are continually mentioned, especially by the French historians. It was a crime imputedwith so much ease, and repelled with so much difficulty, that thepowerful, whenever they wanted to ruin the weak, and could fix noother imputation upon them, had only to accuse them of witchcraftto ensure their destruction. Instances in which this crime was madethe pretext for the most violent persecution, both of individuals andof communities, whose real offences were purely political or religious, must be familiar to every reader. The extermination of the Stedingerin 1234, of the Templars from 1307 to 1313, the execution of Joanof Arc in 1429, and the unhappy scenes of Arras in 1459, are themost prominent. The first of these is perhaps the least known, butis not among the least remarkable. The following account, from Dr. Kortüm's interesting history[26] of the republican confederacies of themiddle ages, will shew the horrible convenience of imputations ofwitchcraft when royal or priestly wolves wanted a pretext for a quarrelwith the sheep. 

 [26] _Entstehungsgeschichte der freistädlischen Bünde im Mittelalter_, von Dr. F. Kortüm. 1827. 

The Frieslanders, inhabiting the district from the Weser to the Zuydersee, had long been celebrated for their attachment to freedom, and theirsuccessful struggles in its defence. As early as the eleventh century theyhad formed a general confederacy against the encroachments of the Normansand the Saxons, which was divided into seven _seelands_, holding annuallya diet under a large oak-tree at Aurich, near the Upstalboom. Here theymanaged their own affairs, without the control of the clergy and ambitiousnobles who surrounded them, to the great scandal of the latter. Theyalready had true notions of a representative government. The deputies ofthe people levied the necessary taxes, deliberated on the affairs of thecommunity, and performed, in their simple and patriarchal manner, nearlyall the functions of the representative assemblies of the present day. Finally, the Archbishop of Bremen, together with the Count of Oldenburgand other neighbouring potentates, formed a league against that section ofthe Frieslanders known by the name of the Stedinger, and succeeded, afterharassing them and sowing dissensions among them for many years, inbringing them under the yoke. But the Stedinger, devotedly attached totheir ancient laws, by which they had attained a degree of civil andreligious liberty very uncommon in that age, did not submit without aviolent struggle. They arose in insurrection in the year 1204, in defenceof the ancient customs of their country, refused to pay taxes to thefeudal chiefs or tithes to the clergy--who had forced themselves intotheir peaceful retreats--and drove out many of their oppressors. For aperiod of eight-and-twenty years the brave Stedinger continued thestruggle single-handed against the forces of the Archbishops of Bremen andthe Counts of Oldenburg, and destroyed, in the year 1232, the strongcastle of Slutterberg, near Delmenhorst, built by the latter nobleman as aposition from which he could send out his marauders to plunder and destroythe possessions of the peasantry. 

The invincible courage of these poor people proving too strong for theiroppressors to cope with by the ordinary means of warfare, the Archbishopof Bremen applied to Pope Gregory IX. For his spiritual aid against them. That prelate entered cordially into the cause, and launching forth hisanathema against the Stedinger as heretics and witches, encouraged alltrue believers to assist in their extermination. A large body of thievesand fanatics broke into their country in the year 1233, killing andburning wherever they went, and not sparing either women or children, thesick or the aged, in their rage. The Stedinger, however, rallied in greatforce, routed their invaders, and killed in battle their leader, CountBurckhardt of Oldenburg, with many inferior chieftains. 

Again the pope was applied to, and a crusade against the Stedinger waspreached in all that part of Germany. The pope wrote to all the bishopsand leaders of the faithful an exhortation to arm, to root out from theland those abominable witches and wizards. "The Stedinger, " said hisholiness, "seduced by the devil, have abjured all the laws of God and man, slandered the Church, insulted the holy sacraments, consulted witches toraise evil spirits, shed blood like water, taken the lives of priests, andconcocted an infernal scheme to propagate the worship of the devil, whomthey adore under the name of Asmodi. The devil appears to them indifferent shapes, --sometimes as a goose or a duck, and at others in thefigure of a pale black-eyed youth, with a melancholy aspect, whose embracefills their hearts with eternal hatred against the holy Church of Christ. This devil presides at their sabbaths, when they all kiss him and dancearound him. He then envelopes them in total darkness, and they all, maleand female, give themselves up to the grossest and most disgustingdebauchery. "

In consequence of these letters of the pope, the emperor of Germany, Frederic II. , also pronounced his ban against them. The Bishops ofRatzebourg, Lubeck, Osnabrück, Munster, and Minden took up arms toexterminate them, aided by the Duke of Brabant, the Counts of Holland, ofClêves, of the Mark, of Oldenburg, of Egmond, of Diest, and many otherpowerful nobles. An army of forty thousand men was soon collected, whichmarched, under the command of the Duke of Brabant, into the country of theStedinger. The latter mustered vigorously in defence of their lives andliberties, but could raise no greater force, including every man capableof bearing arms, than eleven thousand men to cope against the overwhelmingnumbers of their foe. They fought with the energy of despair, but all invain. Eight thousand of them were slain on the field of battle; the wholerace was exterminated; and the enraged conquerors scoured the country inall directions, slew the women and children and old men, drove away thecattle, fired the woods and cottages, and made a total waste of the land. 

[Illustration: PHILIP IV. ]

Just as absurd and effectual was the charge brought against the Templarsin 1307, when they had rendered themselves obnoxious to the potentates andprelacy of Christendom. Their wealth, their power, their pride, and theirinsolence had raised up enemies on every side; and every sort ofaccusation was made against them, but failed to work their overthrow, until the terrible cry of witchcraft was let loose upon them. Thiseffected its object, and the Templars were extirpated. They were accusedof having sold their souls to the devil, and of celebrating all theinfernal mysteries of the witches' sabbath. It was pretended that, whenthey admitted a novice into their order, they forced him to renounce hissalvation and curse Jesus Christ; that they then made him submit to manyunholy and disgusting ceremonies, and forced him to kiss the superior onthe cheek, the navel, and the breech, and spit three times upon acrucifix; that all the members were forbidden to have connexion withwomen, but might give themselves up without restraint to every species ofunmentionable debauchery; that when by any mischance a Templar infringedthis order, and a child was born, the whole order met, and tossed it aboutlike a shuttlecock from one to the other until it expired; that they thenroasted it by a slow fire, and with the fat which trickled from itanointed the hair and beard of a large image of the devil. It was alsosaid that when one of the knights died, his body was burnt into a powder, and then mixed with wine and drunk by every member of the order. PhilipIV. , who, to exercise his own implacable hatred, invented, in allprobability, the greater part of these charges, issued orders for theimmediate arrest of all the Templars in his dominions. The pope afterwardstook up the cause with almost as much fervour as the king of France; andin every part of Europe the Templars were thrown into prison, and theirgoods and estates confiscated. Hundreds of them, when put to the rack, confessed even the most preposterous of the charges against them, and byso doing increased the popular clamour and the hopes of their enemies. Itis true that, when removed from the rack, they denied all they hadpreviously confessed; but this circumstance only increased the outcry, andwas numbered as an additional crime against them. They were considered ina worse light than before, and condemned forthwith to the flames asrelapsed heretics. Fifty-nine of these unfortunate victims were all burnedtogether by a slow fire in a field in the suburbs of Paris, protesting tothe very last moment of their lives their innocence of the crimes imputedto them, and refusing to accept of pardon upon condition of acknowledgingthemselves guilty. Similar scenes were enacted in the provinces; and forfour years hardly a month passed without witnessing the execution of oneor more of these unhappy men. Finally, in 1313, the last scene of thistragedy closed by the burning of the Grand-Master, Jacques de Molay, andhis companion Guy, the commander of Normandy. Any thing more atrocious itis impossible to conceive, --disgraceful alike to the monarch whooriginated, the pope who supported, and the age which tolerated themonstrous iniquity. That the malice of a few could invent such a charge isa humiliating thought for the lover of his species; but that millions ofmankind should credit it is still more so. 

The execution of Joan of Arc is the next most notorious example whichhistory affords us of the imputation of witchcraft against a politicalenemy. Instances of similar persecution, in which this crime was made thepretext for the gratification of political or religious hatred, might bemultiplied to a great extent. But it is better to proceed at once to theconsideration of the bull of Pope Innocent, the torch that set fire to thelong-laid train, and caused so fearful an explosion over the Christianworld. It will be necessary, however, to go back for some years anteriorto that event, the better to understand the motives that influenced theChurch in the promulgation of that fearful document. 

Towards the close of the fourteenth and beginning of the fifteenthcentury, many witches were burned in different parts of Europe. As anatural consequence of the severe persecution, the crime, or thepretenders to it, increased. Those who found themselves accused andthreatened with the penalties, if they happened to be persons of a bad andmalicious disposition, wished they had the power imputed to them, thatthey might be revenged upon their persecutors. Numerous instances are uponrecord of half-crazed persons being found muttering the spells which weresupposed to raise the evil one. When religion and law alike recognised thecrime, it is no wonder that the weak in reason and the strong inimagination, especially when they were of a nervous temperament, fanciedthemselves endued with the terrible powers of which all the world wasspeaking. The belief of their neighbours did not lag behind their own, andexecution was the speedy consequence. 

[Illustration: JOAN OF ARC. ]

As the fear of witchcraft increased, the Catholic clergy strove to fix theimputation of it upon those religious sects, the pioneers of theReformation, who began about this time to be formidable to the Church ofRome. If a charge of heresy could not ensure their destruction, that ofsorcery and witchcraft never failed. In the year 1459, a devotedcongregation of the Waldenses at Arras, who used to repair at night toworship God in their own manner in solitary places, fell victims to anaccusation of sorcery. It was rumoured in Arras that in the desert placesto which they retired the devil appeared before them in human form, andread from a large book his laws and ordinances, to which they all promisedobedience; that he then distributed money and food among them, to bindthem to his service, which done, they gave themselves up to every speciesof lewdness and debauchery. Upon these rumours several creditable personsin Arras were seized and imprisoned, together with a number of decrepitand idiotic old women. The rack, that convenient instrument for making theaccused confess any thing, was of course put in requisition. Monstrelet, in his chronicle, says that they were tortured until some of them admittedthe truth of the whole accusations, and said, besides, that they had seenand recognised in their nocturnal assemblies many persons of rank; manyprelates, seigneurs, governors of bailliages, and mayors of cities, beingsuch names as the examiners had themselves suggested to the victims. Several who had been thus informed against were thrown into prison, and sohorribly tortured, that reason fled, and in their ravings of pain theyalso confessed their midnight meetings with the devil, and the oaths theyhad taken to serve him. Upon these confessions judgment was pronounced. The poor old women, as usual in such cases, were hanged and burned in themarket-place; the more wealthy delinquents were allowed to escape uponpayment of large sums. It was soon after universally recognised that thesetrials had been conducted in the most odious manner, and that the judgeshad motives of private vengeance against many of the more influentialpersons who had been implicated. The parliament of Paris afterwardsdeclared the sentence illegal, and the judges iniquitous; but its _arrêt_was too late to be of service even to those who had paid the fine, or topunish the authorities who had misconducted themselves, for it was notdelivered until thirty-two years after the executions had taken place. 

In the mean time, accusations of witchcraft spread rapidly in France, Italy, and Germany. Strange to say, that although in the first instancechiefly directed against heretics, the latter were as firm believers inthe crime as even the Catholics themselves. In after times we also findthat the Lutherans and Calvinists became greater witch-burners than everthe Romanists had been, so deeply was the prejudice rooted. Every otherpoint of belief was in dispute, but that was considered by every sect tobe as well established as the authenticity of the Scriptures or theexistence of a God. 

But at this early period of the epidemic the persecutions were directed bythe heads of the Catholic Church. The spread of heresy betokened, it wasthought, the coming of Antichrist. Florimond, in his work concerningAntichrist, exposed the secret of these prosecutions. He says: "All whohave afforded us some signs of the approach of Antichrist agree that theincrease of sorcery and witchcraft is to distinguish the melancholy periodof his advent; and was ever age so afflicted as ours? The seats destinedfor criminals in our courts of justice are blackened with persons accusedof this guilt. There are not judges enough to try them. Our dungeons aregorged with them. No day passes that we do not render our tribunals bloodyby the dooms which we pronounce, or in which we do not return to our homesdiscountenanced and terrified at the horrible confessions which we haveheard. And the devil is accounted so good a master, that we cannot commitso great a number of his slaves to the flames but what there shall arisefrom their ashes a sufficient number to supply their place. "

Florimond here spoke the general opinion of the Church of Rome; but itnever suggested itself to the mind of any person engaged in these trials, that if it were indeed a devil who raised up so many new witches to fillthe places of those consumed, it was no other than one in their ownemploy--the devil of persecution. But so it was. The more they burned, themore they found to burn, until it became a common prayer with women in thehumbler walks of life, that they might never live to grow old. It wassufficient to be aged, poor, and half-crazed, to ensure death at the stakeor the scaffold. 

[Illustration: GATE OF CONSTANCE. ]

In the year 1487 there was a severe storm in Switzerland, which laid wastethe country for four miles around Constance. Two wretched old women, whomthe popular voice had long accused of witchcraft, were arrested on thepreposterous charge of having raised the tempest. The rack was displayed, and the two poor creatures were extended upon it. In reply to variousquestions from their tormentors, they owned in their agony that they werein the constant habit of meeting the devil; that they had sold their soulsto him; and that at their command he had raised the tempest. Upon thisinsane and blasphemous charge they were condemned to die. In the criminalregisters of Constance there stands against the name of each the simplebut significant phrase, "_convicta et combusta_. "

This case and hundreds of others were duly reported to the ecclesiasticalpowers. There happened at that time to be a pontiff at the head of theChurch who had given much of his attention to the subject of witchcraft, and who, with the intention of rooting out the supposed crime, did more toincrease it than any other man that ever lived. John Baptist Cibo, electedto the papacy in 1485, under the designation of Innocent VIII. , wassincerely alarmed at the number of witches, and launched forth histerrible manifesto against them. In his celebrated bull of 1488, he calledthe nations of Europe to the rescue of the Church of Christ upon earth, imperilled by the arts of Satan, and set forth the horrors that hadreached his ears; how that numbers of both sexes had intercourse with theinfernal fiends; how by their sorceries they afflicted both man and beast;how they blighted the marriage-bed, destroyed the births of women and theincrease of cattle; and how they blasted the corn on the ground, thegrapes of the vineyard, the fruits of the trees, and the herbs of thefield. In order that criminals so atrocious might no longer pollute theearth, he appointed inquisitors in every country, armed with the apostolicpower to convict and punish. 

It was now that the _Witch Mania_, properly so called, may be said to havefairly commenced. Immediately a class of men sprang up in Europe, who madeit the sole business of their lives to discover and burn the witches. Sprenger, in Germany, was the most celebrated of these national scourges. In his notorious work, the _Malleus Maleficarum_, he laid down a regularform of trial, and appointed a course of examination by which theinquisitors in other countries might best discover the guilty. Thequestions, which were always enforced by torture, were of the most absurdand disgusting nature. The inquisitors were required to ask the suspectedwhether they had midnight meetings with the devil? whether they attendedthe witches' sabbath on the Brocken? whether they had their familiarspirits? whether they could raise whirlwinds and call down the lightning?and whether they had had sexual intercourse with Satan?

Straightway the inquisitors set to work: Cumanus, in Italy, burnedforty-one poor women in one province alone; and Sprenger, in Germany, burned a number which can never be ascertained correctly, but which, it isagreed on all hands, amounted to more than five hundred in a year. Thegreat resemblance between the confessions of the unhappy victims wasregarded as a new proof of the existence of the crime. But this is notastonishing. The same questions from the _Malleus Maleficarum_ were put tothem all, and torture never failed to educe the answer required by theinquisitor. Numbers of people, whose imaginations were filled with thesehorrors, went further in the way of confession than even their tormentorsanticipated, in the hope that they would thereby be saved from the rack, and put out of their misery at once. Some confessed that they had hadchildren by the devil; but no one who had ever been a mother gaveutterance to such a frantic imagining, even in the extremity of heranguish. The childless only confessed it, and were burned instanter asunworthy to live. 

For fear the zeal of the enemies of Satan should cool, successive popesappointed new commissions. One was appointed by Alexander VI. In 1494, another by Leo X. In 1521, and a third by Adrian VI. In 1522. They wereall armed with the same powers to hunt out and destroy, and executed theirfearful functions but too rigidly. In Geneva alone five hundred personswere burned in the years 1515 and 1516, under the title of Protestantwitches. It would appear that their chief crime was heresy, and theirwitchcraft merely an aggravation. Bartolomeo de Spina has a list stillmore fearful. He informs us that in the year 1524 no less than a thousandpersons suffered death for witchcraft in the district of Como, and thatfor several years afterwards the average number of victims exceeded ahundred annually. One inquisitor, Remigius, took great credit to himselffor having, during fifteen years, convicted and burned nine hundred. 

In France, about the year 1520, fires for the execution of witches blazedin almost every town. Danæus, in his _Dialogues of Witches_, says theywere so numerous that it would be next to impossible to tell the number ofthem. So deep was the thraldom of the human mind, that the friends andrelatives of the accused parties looked on and approved. The wife orsister of a murderer might sympathise in his fate, but the wives andhusbands of sorcerers and witches had no pity. The truth is that pity wasdangerous, for it was thought no one could have compassion on thesufferings of a witch who was not a dabbler in sorcery: to have wept for awitch would have insured the stake. In some districts, however, theexasperation of the people broke out, in spite of superstition. Theinquisitor of a rural township in Piedmont burned the victims soplentifully and so fast, that there was not a family in the place whichdid not lose a member. The people at last arose, and the inquisitor wasbut too happy to escape from the country with whole limbs. The archbishopof the diocese proceeded afterwards to the trial of such as the inquisitorhad left in prison. 

Some of the charges were so utterly preposterous that the poor wretcheswere at once liberated; others met a harder, but the usual fate. Some ofthem were accused of having joined the witches' dance at midnight under ablasted oak, where they had been seen by creditable people. The husbandsof several of these women (two of whom were young and beautiful) sworepositively that at the time stated their wives were comfortably asleep intheir arms; but it was all in vain. Their word was taken, but thearchbishop told them they had been deceived by the devil and their ownsenses. It was true they might have had the semblance of their wives intheir beds, but the originals were far away at the devil's dance under theoak. The honest fellows were confounded, and their wives burned forthwith. 

[Illustration: CHARLES IX. ]

In the year 1561, five poor women of Verneuil were accused of transformingthemselves into cats, and in that shape attending the sabbath of thefiends--prowling around Satan, who presided over them in the form of agoat, and dancing, to amuse him, upon his back. They were found guilty, and burned. [27]

 [27] Bodin, p. 95 Garinet, p. 125; _Anti-demon de Serclier_, p. 346. 

In 1564, three wizards and a witch appeared before the Presidents Salvertand D'Avanton: they confessed, when extended on the rack, that theyanointed the sheep-pens with infernal unguents to kill the sheep; thatthey attended the sabbath, where they saw a great black goat, which spoketo them, and made them kiss him, each holding a lighted candle in his handwhile he performed the ceremony. They were all executed at Poitiers. 

In 1571 the celebrated sorcerer Trois Echelles was burned in the Place deGrève in Paris. He confessed, in the presence of Charles IX. , and of theMarshals de Montmorency, De Retz, and the Sieur du Mazille, physician tothe king, that he could perform the most wonderful things by the aid of adevil to whom he had sold himself. He described at great length thesaturnalia of the fiends, the sacrifices which they offered up, thedebaucheries they committed with the young and handsome witches, and thevarious modes of preparing the infernal unguent for blighting cattle. Hesaid he had upwards of twelve hundred accomplices in the crime ofwitchcraft in various parts of France, whom he named to the king, and manyof whom were afterwards arrested and suffered execution. 

At Dôle, two years afterwards, Gilles Garnier, a native of Lyons, wasindicted for being a _loup-garou_, or man-wolf, and for prowling in thatshape about the country at night to devour little children. The indictmentagainst him, as read by Henri Camus, doctor of laws and counsellor of theking, was to the effect that he, Gilles Garnier, had seized upon a littlegirl, twelve years of age, whom he drew into a vineyard and there killed, partly with his teeth and partly with his hands, seeming like wolf's paws;that from thence he trailed her bleeding body along the ground with histeeth into the wood of La Serre, where he ate the greatest portion of herat one meal, and carried the remainder home to his wife; that upon anotheroccasion, eight days before the festival of All Saints, he was seen toseize another child in his teeth, and would have devoured her had she notbeen rescued by the country people, and that the said child died a fewdays afterwards of the injuries he had inflicted; that fifteen days afterthe same festival of All Saints, being again in the shape of a wolf, hedevoured a boy thirteen years of age, having previously torn off his legand thigh with his teeth, and hid them away for his breakfast on themorrow. He was furthermore indicted for giving way to the same diabolicaland unnatural propensities even in his shape of a man; and that he hadstrangled a boy in a wood with the intention of eating him, which crime hewould have effected if he had not been seen by the neighbours andprevented. 

Gilles Garnier was put to the rack after fifty witnesses had deposedagainst him. He confessed every thing that was laid to his charge. He wasthereupon brought back into the presence of his judges, when Dr. Camus, inthe name of the parliament of Dôle, pronounced the following sentence:

"Seeing that Gilles Garnier has, by the testimony of credible witnesses, and by his own spontaneous confession, been proved guilty of theabominable crimes of lycanthropy and witchcraft, this court condemns him, the said Gilles, to be this day taken in a cart from this spot to theplace of execution, accompanied by the executioner (_maître exécuteur dela haute justice_), where he, by the said executioner, shall be tied to astake and burned alive, and that his ashes be then scattered to the winds. The court further condemns him, the said Gilles, to the costs of thisprosecution. "

"Given at Dôle, this 18th day of January, 1573. "

In 1578, the parliament of Paris was occupied for several days with thetrial of a man named Jacques Rollet. He also was found guilty of being a_loup-garou_, and in that shape devouring a little boy. He was burnt alivein the Place de Grève. 

In 1579, so much alarm was excited in the neighbourhood of Melun by theincrease of witches and _loup-garous_, that a council was held to devisesome measures to stay the evil. A decree was passed that all witches andconsulters with witches should be punished with death; and not only those, but fortune-tellers and conjurors of every kind. The parliament of Rouentook up the same question in the following year, and decreed that thepossession of a _grimoire_, or book of spells, was sufficient evidence ofwitchcraft, and that all persons on whom such books were found should beburned alive. Three councils were held in different parts of France in theyear 1583, all in relation to the same subject. The parliament ofBourdeaux issued strict injunctions to all curates and clergy whatever touse redoubled efforts to root out the crime of witchcraft. The parliamentof Tours was equally peremptory, and feared the judgments of an offendedGod if all these dealers with the devil were not swept from the face ofthe land. The parliament of Rheims was particularly severe against the_noueurs d'aiguillette_, or "tyers of the knot"--people of both sexes whotook pleasure in preventing the consummation of marriage, that they mightcounteract the command of God to our first parents to increase andmultiply. This parliament held it to be sinful to wear amulets to preservefrom witchcraft; and that this practice might not be continued within itsjurisdiction, drew up a form of exorcism, which would more effectuallydefeat the agents of the devil, and put them to flight. 

A case of witchcraft, which created a great sensation in its day, occurredin 1588, at a village in the mountains of Auvergne, about two leagues fromApchon. A gentleman of that place being at his window, there passed afriend of his who had been out hunting, and who was then returning to hisown house. The gentleman asked his friend what sport he had had; uponwhich the latter informed him that he had been attacked in the plain by alarge and savage wolf, which he had shot at without wounding, and that hehad then drawn out his hunting-knife and cut off the animal's fore-paw asit sprang upon his neck to devour him. The huntsman upon this put his handinto his bag to pull out the paw, but was shocked to find that it was awoman's hand, with a wedding-ring on the finger. The gentleman immediatelyrecognised his wife's ring, "which, " says the indictment against her, "made him begin to suspect some evil of her. " He immediately went insearch of her, and found her sitting by the fire in the kitchen, with herarm hidden underneath her apron. He tore off her apron with greatvehemence, and found that she had no hand, and that the stump was eventhen bleeding. She was given into custody, and burnt at Riom in presenceof some thousands of spectators. [28]

 [28] Tablier. See also Boguet, _Discours sur les Sorciers_; and M. Jules Garinet, _Histoire de la Magie_, p. 150. 

In the midst of these executions, rare were the gleams of mercy. Fewinstances are upon record of any acquittal taking place when the crime waswitchcraft. The discharge of fourteen persons by the parliament of Paris, in the year 1589, is almost a solitary example of a return to reason. Fourteen persons condemned to death for witchcraft appealed against thejudgment to the parliament of Paris, which for political reasons had beenexiled to Tours. The parliament named four commissioners--Pierre Pigray, the king's surgeon, and Messieurs Leroi, Renard, and Falaiseau, the king'sphysicians--to visit and examine these witches, and see whether they hadthe mark of the devil upon them. Pigray, who relates the circumstance inhis work on Surgery (book vii. Chap. 10), says the visit was made inpresence of two counsellors of the court. The witches were all strippednaked, and the physicians examined their bodies very diligently, prickingthem in all the marks they could find to see whether they were insensibleto pain, which was always considered a certain proof of guilt. They were, however, very sensible of the pricking, and some of them called out verylustily when the pins were driven into them. "We found them, " continuesPierre Pigray, "to be very poor, stupid people, and some of them insane. Many of them were quite indifferent about life, and one or two of themdesired death as a relief for their sufferings. Our opinion was, that theystood more in need of medicine than of punishment; and so we reported tothe parliament. Their case was thereupon taken into further consideration;and the parliament, after mature counsel amongst all the members, orderedthe poor creatures to be sent to their homes, without inflicting anypunishment upon them. "

Such was the dreadful state of Italy, Germany, and France during thesixteenth century, which was far from being the worst crisis of thepopular madness with regard to witchcraft. Let us see what was the stateof England during the same period. The Reformation, which in its progresshad rooted out so many errors, stopped short at this, the greatest errorof all. Luther and Calvin were as firm believers in witchcraft as PopeInnocent himself; and their followers shewed themselves more zealouspersecutors than the Romanists. Dr. Hutchinson, in his work on Witchcraft, asserts that the mania manifested itself later in England, and raged withless virulence than on the continent. The first assertion only is true;for though the persecution began later both in England and Scotland, itsprogress was as fearful as elsewhere. 

It was not until more than fifty years after the issuing of the bull ofInnocent VIII. That the legislature of England thought fit to make anymore severe enactments against sorcery than those already in operation. The statute of 1541 was the first that specified the particular crime ofwitchcraft. At a much earlier period many persons had suffered death forsorcery, in addition to other offences; but no executions took place forattending the witches' sabbath, raising tempests, afflicting cattle withbarrenness, and all the fantastic trumpery of the continent. Two statuteswere passed in 1551: the first relating to false prophecies, causedmainly, no doubt, by the impositions of Elizabeth Barton, the holy maid ofKent, in 1534; and the second against conjuration, witchcraft, andsorcery. But even this enactment did not consider witchcraft as penal initself, and only condemned to death those who, by means of spells, incantations, or contracts with the devil, attempted the lives of theirneighbours. The statute of Elizabeth, in 1562, at last recognisedwitchcraft as a crime of the highest magnitude, whether exerted or not tothe injury of the lives, limbs, and possessions of the community. Fromthat date the persecution may be fairly said to have commenced in England. It reached its climax in the early part of the seventeenth century, whichwas the hottest period of the mania all over Europe. 

A few cases of witch persecution in the sixteenth century will enable thereader to form a more accurate idea of the progress of this great errorthan if he plunged at once into that busy period of its history whenMatthew Hopkins and his coadjutors exercised their infernal calling. Several instances occur in England during the latter years of the reign ofElizabeth. At this time the public mind had become pretty familiar withthe details of the crime. Bishop Jewell, in his sermons before hermajesty, used constantly to conclude them by a fervent prayer that shemight be preserved from witches. Upon one occasion, in 1598, his wordswere, "It may please your grace to understand that witches and sorcererswithin these last four years are marvellously increased within this yourgrace's realm. Your grace's subjects pine away even unto the death; theircolour fadeth--their flesh rotteth--their speech is benumbed--their sensesare bereft! I pray God they may never practise further than upon the_subject_!"

[Illustration: JEWELL. ]

By degrees, an epidemic terror of witchcraft spread into the villages. Inproportion as the doctrine of the Puritans took root, this dreadincreased, and, of course, brought persecution in its train. The Church ofEngland has claimed, and is entitled to the merit, of having been lessinfluenced in these matters than any other sect of Christians; but stillthey were tainted with the superstition of the age. One of the mostflagrant instances of cruelty and delusion upon record was consummatedunder the authority of the Church, and commemorated till a very lateperiod by an annual lecture at the University of Cambridge. 

This is the celebrated case of the witches of Warbois, who were executedabout thirty-two years after the passing of the statute of Elizabeth. Although in the interval but few trials are recorded, there is, unfortunately, but too much evidence to shew the extreme length to whichthe popular prejudice was carried. Many women lost their lives in everypart of England without being brought to trial at all, from the injuriesreceived at the hands of the people. The number of these can never beascertained. 

The case of the witches of Warbois merits to be detailed at length, notonly from the importance attached to it for so many years by the learnedof the University, but from the singular absurdity of the evidence uponwhich men, sensible in all other respects, could condemn theirfellow-creatures to the scaffold. 

The principal actors in this strange drama were the families of Sir SamuelCromwell and a Mr. Throgmorton, both gentlemen of landed property nearWarbois in the county of Huntingdon. Mr. Throgmorton had severaldaughters, the eldest of whom, Mistress Joan, was an imaginative andmelancholy girl, whose head was filled with stories of ghosts and witches. Upon one occasion she chanced to pass the cottage of one Mrs. , or, as shewas called, Mother Samuel, a very aged, a very poor, and a very uglywoman. Mother Samuel was sitting at her door knitting, with a black capupon her head, when this silly young lady passed, and taking her eyes fromher work she looked stedfastly at her. Mistress Joan immediately fanciedthat she felt sudden pains in all her limbs, and from that day forth neverceased to tell her sisters, and every body about her, that Mother Samuelhad bewitched her. The other children took up the cry, and actuallyfrightened themselves into fits whenever they passed within sight of thisterrible old woman. 

Mr. And Mrs. Throgmorton, not a whit wiser than their children, believedall the absurd tales they had been told; and Lady Cromwell, a gossip ofMrs. Throgmorton, made herself very active in the business, and determinedto bring the witch to the ordeal. The sapient Sir Samuel joined in thescheme; and the children, thus encouraged, gave loose reins to theirimaginations, which seem to have been of the liveliest. They soon inventeda whole host of evil spirits, and names for them besides, which they saidwere sent by Mother Samuel to torment them continually. Seven spiritsespecially, they said, were raised from hell by this wicked woman to throwthem into fits; and as the children were actually subject to fits, theirmother and her commeres gave the more credit to the story. The names ofthese spirits were, "First Smack, " "Second Smack, " "Third Smack, " "Blue, ""Catch, " "Hardname, " and "Pluck. "

Throgmorton, the father, was so pestered by these idle fancies, and yet sowell inclined to believe them, that he marched valiantly forth to the hutwhere Mother Samuel resided with her husband and daughter, and dragged herforcibly into his own grounds. Lady Cromwell, Mrs. Throgmorton, and thegirls were in waiting, armed with long pins to prick the witch, and see ifthey could draw blood from her. Lady Cromwell, who seems to have been themost violent of the party, tore the old woman's cap off her head, andplucking out a handful of her grey hair, gave it to Mrs. Throgmorton toburn, as a charm which would preserve them all from her futuremachinations. It was no wonder that the poor creature, subjected to thisrough usage, should give vent to an involuntary curse upon her tormentors. She did so, and her curse was never forgotten. Her hair, however, wassupposed to be a grand specific, and she was allowed to depart, half deadwith terror and ill-usage. For more than a year the families of Cromwelland Throgmorton continued to persecute her, and to assert that her impsafflicted them with pains and fits, turned the milk sour in their pans, and prevented their cows and ewes from bearing. In the midst of thesefooleries, Lady Cromwell was taken ill and died. It was then rememberedthat her death had taken place exactly a year and a quarter since she wascursed by Mother Samuel, and that on several occasions she had dreamed ofthe witch and a black cat, the latter being of course the arch-enemy ofmankind himself. 

Sir Samuel Cromwell now conceived himself bound to take more energeticmeasures against the sorceress, since he had lost his wife by her means. The year and a quarter and the black cat were proofs positive. All theneighbours had taken up the cry of witchcraft against Mother Samuel; andher personal appearance, unfortunately for her, the very ideal of what awitch ought to be, increased the popular suspicion. It would appear thatat last the poor woman believed, even to her own disadvantage, that shewas what every body represented her to be. Being forcibly brought into Mr. Throgmorton's house, when his daughter Joan was in one of her customaryfits, she was commanded by him and Sir Samuel Cromwell to expel the devilfrom the young lady. She was told to repeat her exorcism, and to add, "asI am a witch, and the causer of Lady Cromwell's death, I charge thee, fiend, to come out of her!" She did as was required of her; and moreoverconfessed that her husband and daughter were leagued with her inwitchcraft, and had, like her, sold their souls to the devil. The wholefamily were immediately arrested, and sent to Huntingdon to prison. 

The trial was instituted shortly afterwards before Mr. Justice Fenner, when all the crazy girls of Mr. Throgmorton's family gave evidence againstMother Samuel and her family. They were all three put to the torture. Theold woman confessed in her anguish that she was a witch; that she had casther spells upon the young ladies; and that she had caused the death ofLady Cromwell. The father and daughter, stronger in mind than theirunfortunate wife and parent, refused to confess any thing, and assertedtheir innocence to the last. They were all three condemned to be hanged, and their bodies burned. The daughter, who was young and good-looking, excited the pity of many persons, and she was advised to plead pregnancy, that she might gain at least a respite from death. The poor girl refusedproudly, on the ground that she would not be accounted both a witch and astrumpet. Her half-witted old mother caught at the idea of a few weeks'longer life, and asserted that she was pregnant. The court was convulsedwith laughter, in which the wretched victim herself joined; and this wasaccounted an additional proof that she was a witch. The whole family wereexecuted on the 7th of April, 1593. 

Sir Samuel Cromwell, as lord of the manor, received the sum of 40l. Out ofthe confiscated property of the Samuels, which he turned into arent-charge of 40s. Yearly, for the endowment of an annual sermon orlecture upon the enormity of witchcraft, and this case in particular, tobe preached by a doctor or bachelor of divinity of Queen's College, Cambridge. I have not been able to ascertain the exact date at which thisannual lecture was discontinued; but it appears to have been preached solate as 1718, when Dr. Hutchinson published his work upon witchcraft. 

To carry on in proper chronological order the history of the witchdelusion in the British isles, it will be necessary to examine into whatwas taking place in Scotland during all that part of the sixteenth centuryanterior to the accession of James VI. To the crown of England. Wenaturally expect that the Scotch--a people renowned from the earliesttimes for their powers of imagination--should be more deeply imbued withthis gloomy superstition than their neighbours of the south. The nature oftheir soil and climate tended to encourage the dreams of early ignorance. Ghosts, goblins, wraiths, kelpies, and a whole host of spiritual beings, were familiar to the dwellers by the misty glens of the Highlands and theromantic streams of the Lowlands. Their deeds, whether of good or ill, were enshrined in song, and took a greater hold upon the imaginationbecause "verse had sanctified them. " But it was not till the religiousreformers began the practice of straining Scripture to the severestextremes that the arm of the law was called upon to punish witchcraft as acrime _per se_. What Pope Innocent VIII. Had done for Germany and France, the preachers of the Reformation did for the Scottish people. Witchcraft, instead of being a mere article of faith, became enrolled in thestatute-book; and all good subjects and true Christians were called uponto take arms against it. The ninth parliament of Queen Mary passed an actin 1563, which decreed the punishment of death against witches andconsulters with witches, and immediately the whole bulk of the people weresmitten with an epidemic fear of the devil and his mortal agents. Personsin the highest ranks of life shared and encouraged the delusion of thevulgar. Many were themselves accused of witchcraft; and noble ladies wereshewn to have dabbled in mystic arts, and proved to the world that if theywere not witches, it was not for want of the will. 

Among the dames who became notorious for endeavouring to effect theirwicked ends by the devil's aid may be mentioned the celebrated LadyBuccleugh of Branxholme (familiar to all the readers of Sir Walter Scott), the Countess of Lothian, the Countess of Angus, the Countess of Athol, Lady Kerr, the Countess of Huntley, Euphemia Macalzean (the daughter ofLord Cliftonhall), and Lady Fowlis. Among the celebrated of the other sexwho were accused of wizardism was Sir Lewis Ballantyne, the LordJustice-Clerk for Scotland, who, if we may believe Scot of Scotstarvet, "dealt by curiosity with a warlock called Richard Grahame, " and prayed himto raise the devil. The warlock consented, and raised him _in propriâpersonâ_ in the yard of his house in the Canongate, "at sight of whom theLord Justice-Clerk was so terrified, that he took sickness and thereofdied. " By such idle reports as these did the envious ruin the reputationof those they hated; though it would appear in this case that Sir Lewishad been fool enough to make the attempt of which he was accused, and thatthe success of the experiment was the only apocryphal part of the story. 

[Illustration: JOHN KNOX. ]

The enemies of John Knox invented a similar tale, which found readycredence among the Roman Catholics, glad to attach any stigma to thatgrand scourge of the vices of their Church. It was reported that he andhis secretary went into the churchyard of St. Andrew's with the intent toraise "some sanctes;" but that, by a mistake in their conjurations, theyraised the great fiend himself instead of the saints they wished toconsult. The popular rumour added, that Knox's secretary was so frightenedat the great horns, goggle eyes, and long tail of Satan, that he went mad, and shortly afterwards died. Knox himself was built of sterner stuff, andwas not to be frightened. 

The first name that occurs in the records of the High Court of Justiciaryof persons tried or executed for witchcraft, is that of Janet Bowman in1572, nine years after the passing of the act of Mary. No particulars ofher crimes are given, and against her name there only stands the words, "convict and brynt. " It is not, however, to be inferred, that in thisinterval no trials or executions took place; for it appears, on theauthority of documents of unquestioned authenticity in the Advocates'Library at Edinburgh, [29] that the Privy Council made a practice ofgranting commissions to resident gentlemen and ministers in every part ofScotland to examine, try, and execute witches within their own parishes. No records of those who suffered from the sentence of these tribunals havebeen preserved; but if popular tradition may be believed even to theamount of one-fourth of its assertions, their number was fearful. Afterthe year 1572, the entries of executions for witchcraft in the records ofthe High Court become more frequent, but do not average more than one perannum, --another proof that trials for this offence were in generalentrusted to the local magistracy. The latter appear to have orderedwitches to the stake with as little compunction, and after as summary amode, as modern justices of the peace order a poacher to the stocks. 

 [29] _Foreign Quarterly Review_, vol. Vi. P. 41. 

As James VI. Advanced in manhood, he took great interest in the witchtrials. One of them especially--that of Gellie Duncan, Dr. Fian, and theiraccomplices, in the year 1591--engrossed his whole attention, and no doubtsuggested in some degree the famous work on Demonology, which he wroteshortly afterwards. As these witches had made an attempt upon his ownlife, it is not surprising, with his habits, that he should have watchedthe case closely, or become strengthened in his prejudice and superstitionby its singular details. No other trial that could be selected would giveso fair an idea of the delusions of the Scottish people as this. Whetherwe consider the number of victims, the absurdity of the evidence, and thereal villany of some of the persons implicated, it is equallyextraordinary. 

Gellie Duncan, the prime witch in these proceedings, was servant to thedeputy bailiff of Tranent, a small town in Haddingtonshire, about tenmiles from Edinburgh. Though neither old nor ugly (as witches usuallywere), but young and good-looking, her neighbours, from some suspiciousparts of her behaviour, had long considered her a witch. She had, itappears, some pretensions to the healing art. Some cures which sheeffected were so sudden, that the worthy bailiff, her master, who, likehis neighbours, mistrusted her, considered them no less than miraculous. In order to discover the truth, he put her to the torture; but sheobstinately refused to confess that she had dealings with the devil. Itwas the popular belief that no witch would confess as long as the markwhich Satan had put upon her remained undiscovered upon her body. Somebodypresent reminded the torturing bailie of this fact, and on examination, the devil's mark was found upon the throat of poor Gellie. She was put tothe torture again, and her fortitude giving way under the extremity of heranguish, she confessed that she was indeed a witch--that she had sold hersoul to the devil, and effected all her cures by his aid. This wassomething new in the witch creed, according to which, the devil delightedmore in laying diseases on than in taking them off; but Gellie Duncanfared no better on that account. The torture was still applied, until shehad named all her accomplices, among whom were one Cunningham, a reputedwizard, known by the name of Dr. Fian; a grave and matron-like witch, named Agnes Sampson; Euphemia Macalzean, the daughter of Lord Cliftonhall, already mentioned, and nearly forty other persons, some of whom were thewives of respectable individuals in the city of Edinburgh. Every one ofthese persons was arrested, and the whole realm of Scotland thrown intocommotion by the extraordinary nature of the disclosures which wereanticipated. 

About two years previous to this time, James had suddenly left hiskingdom, and proceeded gallantly to Denmark, to fetch over his bride, thePrincess of Denmark, who had been detained by contrary weather in theharbour of Upslo. After remaining for some months in Copenhagen, he setsail with his young bride, and arrived safely in Leith, on the 1st of May1590, having experienced a most boisterous passage, and been nearlywrecked. As soon as the arrest of Gellie Duncan and Fian became known inScotland, it was reported by every body who pretended to be well-informed, that these witches and their associates had, by the devil's means, raisedthe storms which had endangered the lives of the king and queen. Gellie, in her torture, had confessed that such was the fact, and the wholekingdom waited aghast and open-mouthed for the corroboration about to befurnished by the trial. 

Agnes Sampson, the "grave and matron-like" witch implicated by GellieDuncan, was put to the horrible torture of the _pilliewinkis_. She laidbare all the secrets of the sisterhood before she had suffered an hour, and confessed that Gellie Duncan, Dr. Fian, Marian Lincup, EuphemiaMacalzean, herself, and upwards of two hundred witches and warlocks, usedto assemble at midnight in the kirk of North Berwick, where they met thedevil; that they had plotted there to attempt the king's life; that theywere incited to this by the old fiend himself, who had asserted with athundering oath that James was the greatest enemy he ever had, and thatthere would be no peace for the devil's children upon earth until he weregot rid of; that the devil upon these occasions always liked to have alittle music, and that Gellie Duncan used to play a reel before him on atrump or Jew's harp, to which all the witches danced. 

James was highly flattered at the idea that the devil should have saidthat he was the greatest enemy he ever had. He sent for Gellie Duncan tothe palace, and made her play before him the same reel which she hadplayed at the witches' dance in the kirk. 

[Illustration: TORTURE OF THE BOOTS. ]

Dr. Fian, or rather Cunningham, a petty schoolmaster of Tranent, was putto the torture among the rest. He was a man who had led an infamous life, was a compounder of and dealer in poisons, and a pretender to magic. Though not guilty of the preposterous crimes laid to his charge, there isno doubt that he was a sorcerer in will, though not in deed, and that hedeserved all the misery he endured. When put on the rack, he would confessnothing, and held out so long unmoved, that the severe torture of the_boots_ was resolved upon. He endured this till exhausted nature couldbear no longer, when insensibility kindly stepped in to his aid. When itwas seen that he was utterly powerless, and that his tongue cleaved to theroof of his mouth, he was released. Restoratives were administered; andduring the first faint gleam of returning consciousness, he was prevailedupon to sign, ere he well knew what he was about, a full confession, instrict accordance with those of Gellie Duncan and Agnes Sampson. He wasthen remanded to his prison, from which, after two days, he managed, somehow or other, to escape. He was soon recaptured, and brought before theCourt of Justiciary, James himself being present. Fian now denied all thecircumstances of the written confession which he had signed; whereupon theking, enraged at his "stubborn wilfulness, " ordered him once more to thetorture. His finger nails were riven out with pincers, and long needlesthrust up to the eye into the quick; but he did not wince. He was thenconsigned again to the _boots_, in which, to quote a pamphlet published atthe time, [30] he continued "so long, and abode so many blows in them, thathis legs were crushed and beaten together as small as might be, and thebones and flesh so bruised, that the blood and marrow spouted forth ingreat abundance, whereby they were made unserviceable for ever. "

 [30] _News from Scotland, declaring the Damnable Life of Dr. Fian_. 

The astonishing similarity of the confessions of all the personsimplicated in these proceedings has often been remarked. It would appearthat they actually endeavoured to cause the king's death by their spellsand sorceries. Fian, who was acquainted with all the usual tricks of hisprofession, deceived them with pretended apparitions, so that many of themwere really convinced that they had seen the devil. The sum of theirconfessions was to the following effect:

Satan, who was, of course, a great foe of the reformed religion, wasalarmed that King James should marry a Protestant princess. To avert theconsequences to the realms of evil, he had determined to put an end to theking and his bride by raising a storm on their voyage home. Satan, firstof all, sent a thick mist over the waters, in the hope that the king'svessel might be stranded on the coast amid the darkness. This failing, Dr. Fian, who, from his superior scholarship, was advanced to the dignity ofthe devil's secretary, was commanded to summon all the witches to meettheir master, each one sailing on a sieve on the high seas. 

On All Hallowmas Eve, they assembled to the number of upwards of twohundred, including Gellie Duncan, Agnes Sampson, Euphemia Macalzean, oneBarbara Napier, and several warlocks; and each embarking in a riddle orsieve, they sailed "over the ocean very substantially. " After cruisingabout for some time, they met with the fiend, bearing in his claws a cat, which had been previously drawn nine times through the fire. This hedelivered to one of the warlocks, telling him to cast it into the sea andcry "Hola!" This was done with all solemnity, and immediately the oceanbecame convulsed, the waters hissed loudly, and the waves rose mountainshigh, "Twisting their arms to the dun-coloured heaven. "

The witches sailed gallantly through the tempest they had raised, andlanding on the coast of Scotland, took their sieves in their hands andmarched on in procession to the haunted kirk of North Berwick, where thedevil had resolved to hold a preaching. Gellie Duncan, the musician of theparty, tripped on before, playing on her Jew's harp and singing, "Cummer, go ye before, cummer, go ye; Gif ye will not go before, cummer, let me!"

Arrived at the kirk, they paced around it _withershins_, that is, inreverse of the apparent motion of the sun. Dr. Fian then blew into thekeyhole of the door, which opened immediately, and all the witchesentered. As it was pitch dark, Fian blew with his mouth upon the candles, which immediately lighted, and the devil was seen occupying the pulpit. Hewas attired in a black gown and hat, and the witches saluted him by crying"All hail, master!" His body was hard, like iron; his face terrible; hisnose, like the beak of an eagle; he had great burning eyes; his hands andlegs were hairy; and he had long claws upon his hands and feet, and spakewith an exceedingly gruff voice. Before commencing his sermon he calledover the names of his congregation, demanding whether they had been goodservants, and what success had attended their operations against the lifeof the king and his bride. 

Gray Meill, a crazy old warlock, who acted as beadle or door-keeper, wassilly enough to answer "that nothing ailed the king yet, God be thanked;"upon which the devil, in a rage, stepped down from the pulpit and boxedhis ears for him. He then remounted and commenced the preaching, commanding them to be dutiful servants to him and do all the evil theycould. Euphemia Macalzean and Agnes Sampson, bolder than the rest, askedhim whether he had brought the image or picture of King James, that theymight, by pricking it, cause pains and diseases to fall upon him. "Thefather of lies" spoke truth for once, and confessed that he had forgottenit; upon which Euphemia Macalzean upbraided him loudly for hiscarelessness. The devil, however, took it all in good part, although AgnesSampson and several other women let loose their tongues at himimmediately. When they had done scolding, he invited them all to a grandentertainment. A newly buried corpse was dug up and divided among them, which was all they had in the way of edibles. He was more liberal in thematter of drink, and gave them so much excellent wine that they soonbecame jolly. Gellie Duncan then played the old tune upon her trump, andthe devil himself led off the dance with Euphemia Macalzean. Thus theykept up the sport till the cock crew. 

Agnes Sampson, the wise woman of Keith, as she was called, added someother particulars in her confession. She stated, that on a previousoccasion, she had raised an awful tempest in the sea by throwing a catinto it, with four joints of men tied to its feet. She said also, that ontheir grand attempt to drown King James, they did not meet with the devilafter cruising about, but that he had accompanied them from the first, andthat she had seen him dimly in the distance, rolling himself before themover the great waves, in shape and size not unlike a huge haystack. Theymet with a foreign ship richly laden with wines and other good things, which they boarded, and sunk after they had drunk all the wine and madethemselves quite merry. 

[Illustration: JAMES THE DEMONOLOGIST. ]

Some of these disclosures were too much even for the abundant faith ofKing James, and he more than once exclaimed, that the witches were liketheir master, "extreme lyars. " But they confessed many other things of aless preposterous nature, and of which they were no doubt really guilty. Agnes Sampson said she was to have taken the king's life by anointing hislinen with a strong poison. Gellie Duncan used to threaten her neighboursby saying she would send the devil after them; and many persons of weakerminds than usual were frightened into fits by her, and rendered subject tothem for the remainder of their lives. Dr. Fian also made no scruple inaiding and abetting murder, and would rid any person of an enemy by meansof poison, who could pay him his fee for it. Euphemia Macalzean also wasfar from being pure. There is no doubt that she meditated the king'sdeath, and used such means to compass it as the superstition of the agedirected. She was a devoted partisan of Bothwell, who was accused by manyof the witches as having consulted them on the period of the king's death. They were all found guilty, and sentenced to be hanged and burned. BarbaraNapier, though found guilty upon other counts, was acquitted upon thecharge of having been present at the great witch meeting in Berwick kirk. The king was highly displeased, and threatened to have the jury indictedfor a wilful error upon an assize. They accordingly reconsidered theirverdict, and threw themselves upon the king's mercy for the fault they hadcommitted. James was satisfied, and Barbara Napier was hanged along withGellie Duncan, Agnes Sampson, Dr. Fian, and five-and-twenty others. Euphemia Macalzean met a harder fate. Her connexion with the bold andobnoxious Bothwell, and her share in poisoning one or two individuals whohad stood in her way, were thought deserving of the severest punishmentthe law could inflict. Instead of the ordinary sentence, directing thecriminal to be first strangled and then burned, the wretched woman wasdoomed "to be bound to a stake, and burned in ashes, _quick_ to thedeath. " This cruel sentence was executed on the 25th of June, 1591. 

These trials had the most pernicious consequences all over Scotland. Thelairds and ministers in their districts, armed with due power from theprivy council, tried and condemned old women after the most summaryfashion. Those who still clung to the ancient faith of Rome were theseverest sufferers, as it was thought, after the disclosures of the fierceenmity borne by the devil towards a Protestant king and his Protestantwife, that all the Catholics were leagued with the powers of evil to workwoe on the realm of Scotland. Upon a very moderate calculation, it ispresumed that from the passing of the act of Queen Mary till the accessionof James to the throne of England, a period of thirty-nine years, theaverage number of executions for witchcraft in Scotland was two hundredannually, or upwards of seventeen thousand altogether. For the first nineyears the number was not one quarter so great; but towards the years 1590to 1593, the number must have been more than four hundred. The case lastcited was one of an extraordinary character. The general aspect of thetrials will be better seen from that of Isabel Gowdie, which, as it wouldbe both wearisome and disgusting to go through them all, is given as afair specimen, although it took place at a date somewhat later than thereign of James. This woman, wearied of her life by the persecutions of herneighbours, voluntarily gave herself up to justice, and made a confession, embodying the whole witch-creed of the period. She was undoubtedly amonomaniac of the most extraordinary kind. She said that she deserved tobe stretched upon an iron rack, and that her crimes could never be atonedfor, even if she were to be drawn asunder by wild horses. She named a longlist of her associates, including nearly fifty women and a few warlocks. They dug up the graves of unchristened infants, whose limbs wereserviceable in their enchantments. When they wanted to destroy the cropsof an enemy, they yoked toads to his plough, and on the following nightSatan himself ploughed the land with his team, and blasted it for theseason. The witches had power to assume almost any shape; but theygenerally chose either that of a cat or a hare, oftenest the latter. Isabel said, that on one occasion, when she was in this disguise, she wassore pressed by a pack of hounds, and had a very narrow escape with herlife. She reached her own door at last, feeling the hot breath of thepursuing dogs at her haunches. She managed, however, to hide herselfbehind a chest, and got time to pronounce the magic words that could alonerestore her to her proper shape. They were:

 "Hare! hare! God send thee care! I am in a hare's likeness now; But I shall be a woman e'en now! Hare! hare! God send thee care!"

If witches, when in this shape, were bitten by the dogs, they alwaysretained the marks in their human form; but she had never heard that anywitch had been bitten to death. When the devil appointed any generalmeeting of the witches, the custom was that they should proceed throughthe air mounted on broomsticks, or on corn or bean-straws, pronouncing asthey went:

 "Horse and pattock, horse and go, Horse and pellats, ho! ho! ho!"

They generally left behind them a broom or a three-legged stool, which, when placed in their beds and duly charmed, assumed the human shape tilltheir return. This was done that the neighbours might not know when theywere absent. 

She added that the devil furnished his favourite witches with servant impsto attend upon them. These imps were called, "The Roaring Lion, " "Thief ofHell, " "Wait-upon-Herself, " "Ranting Roarer, " "Care-for-Naught, " &c. , andwere known by their liveries, which were generally yellow, sad-dun, sea-green, pea-green, or grass-green. Satan never called the witches bythe names they had received at baptism; neither were they allowed, in hispresence, so to designate each other. Such a breach of the infernaletiquette assuredly drew down his most severe displeasure. But as somedesignation was necessary, he re-baptised them in their own blood by thenames of "Able-and-Stout, " "Over-the-dike-with-it, " "Raise-the-wind, ""Pickle-nearest-the-wind, " "Batter-them-down-Maggy, " "Blow-Kale, " and suchlike. The devil himself was not very particular what name they called him, so that it was not "Black John. " If any witch was unthinking enough toutter these words, he would rush out upon her and beat and buffet herunmercifully, or tear her flesh with a wool-card. Other names he did notcare about; and once gave instructions to a noted warlock that whenever hewanted his aid, he was to strike the ground three times and exclaim, "Riseup, foul thief!"

[Illustration: SIR G. MACKENZIE. ]

Upon this confession many persons were executed. So strong was the popularfeeling, that no one once accused of witchcraft was acquitted; at leastacquittals did not average one in a hundred trials. Witch-finding, orwitch-pricking, became a trade, and a set of mercenary vagabonds roamedabout the country provided with long pins to run into the flesh ofsupposed criminals. It was no unusual thing then, nor is it now, that inaged persons there should be some spot on the body totally devoid offeeling. It was the object of the witch-pricker to discover this spot, andthe unhappy wight who did not bleed when pricked upon it was doomed to thedeath. If not immediately cast into prison, her life was renderedmiserable by the persecution of her neighbours. It is recorded of manypoor women, that the annoyances they endured in this way were soexcessive, that they preferred death. Sir George Mackenzie, the LordAdvocate, at the time when witch trials were so frequent, and himself adevout believer in the crime, relates, in his _Criminal Law_, firstpublished in 1678, some remarkable instances of it. He says, "I went, whenI was a justice-depute, to examine some women who had confessedjudicially; and one of them, who was a silly creature, told me, undersecrecy, that she had not confessed because she was guilty, but being apoor creature, who wrought for her meat, and being defamed for a witch, she knew she should starve, for no person thereafter would either give hermeat or lodging, and that all men would beat her and set dogs at her, andthat, therefore, she desired to be out of the world; whereupon she weptmost bitterly, and upon her knees called God to witness to what she said. "Sir George, though not wholly elevated above the prejudices of his ageupon this subject, was clear-sighted enough to see the danger to societyof the undue encouragement given to the witch prosecutions. He wasconvinced that three-fourths of them were unjust and unfounded. He says, in the work already quoted, that the persons who were in general accusedof this crime were poor ignorant men and women who did not understand thenature of the accusation, and who mistook their own superstitious fearsfor witchcraft. One poor wretch, a weaver, confessed that he was awarlock, and, being asked why, he replied, because "he had seen the devildancing, like a fly, about the candle!" A simple woman, who, because shewas called a witch, believed that she was, asked the judge upon the benchwhether a person might be a witch and not know it? Sir George adds, thatall the supposed criminals were subjected to severe torture in prison fromtheir gaolers, who thought they did God good service by vexing andtormenting them; "and I know, " says this humane and enlightenedmagistrate, "that this usage was the ground of all their confession; andalbeit, the poor miscreants cannot prove this usage, the actors in itbeing the only witnesses; yet the judge should be jealous of it, as thatwhich did at first elicit the confession, and for fear of which they darenot retract it. " Another author, [31] also a firm believer in witchcraft, gives a still more lamentable instance of a woman who preferred executionas a witch to live on under the imputation. This woman, who knew thatthree others were to be strangled and burned on an early day, sent for theminister of the parish, and confessed that she had sold her soul to Satan. "Whereupon being called before the judges, she was condemned to die withthe rest. Being carried forth to the place of execution, she remainedsilent during the first, second, and third prayer, and then, perceivingthat there remained no more but to rise and go to the stake, she lifted upher body, and, with a loud voice, cried out, 'Now all you that see me thisday, know that I am now to die as a witch, by my own confession; and Ifree all men, especially the ministers and magistrates, of the guilt of myblood. I take it wholly upon myself. My blood be upon my own head. And, asI must make answer to the God of heaven presently, I declare I am as freeof witchcraft as any child. But, being delated by a malicious woman, andput in prison under the name of a witch, disowned by my husband andfriends, and seeing no ground of hope of ever coming out again, I made upthat confession to destroy my own life, being weary of it, and choosingrather to die than to live. '" As a proof of the singular obstinacy andblindness of the believers in witches, it may be stated that the ministerwho relates this story only saw in the dying speech of the unhappy womanan additional proof that she was a witch. True, indeed is it, that "noneare so blind as those who will not see. "

 [31] _Satan's Invisible World Discovered_, by the Rev. G. Sinclair. 

It is time, however, to return to James VI. , who is fairly entitled toshare with Pope Innocent, Sprenger, Bodinus, and Matthew Hopkins the gloryor the odium of being at the same time a chief enemy and chief encouragerof witchcraft. Towards the close of the sixteenth century, many learnedmen, both on the continent and in the isles of Britain, had endeavoured todisabuse the public mind on this subject. The most celebrated were Wierus, in Germany; Pietro d'Apone, in Italy; and Reginald Scot, in England. Theirworks excited the attention of the zealous James, who, mindful of theinvoluntary compliment which his merits had extorted from the devil, wasambitious to deserve it by still continuing "his greatest enemie. " In theyear 1597, he published in Edinburgh his famous treatise on Demonology. Its design may be gathered from the following passage in the introduction:"The fearful abounding, " says the king, "at this time and in this countryof these detestable slaves of the devil, the witches or enchanters, hathmoved me, beloved reader, to despatch in post this following treatise ofmine, not in any wise, as I protest, to serve for a show of mine ownlearning and ingene [ingenuity], but only (moved of conscience) to pressthereby, so far as I can, to resolve the doubting hearts of many, boththat such assaults of Satan are most certainly practised, and that theinstrument thereof merits most severely to be punished, against thedamnable opinions of two, principally in our age; whereof the one calledScot, an Englishman, is not ashamed in public print to deny that there canbe such thing as witchcraft, and so maintains the old error of theSadducees in denying of spirits. The other, called Wierus, a Germanphysician, sets out a public apology for all these crafts-folks, wherebyprocuring for them impunity, he plainly betrays himself to have been oneof that profession. " In other parts of this treatise, which the author hadput into the form of a dialogue, to "make it more pleasant and facile, " hesays: "Witches ought to be put to death, according to the law of God, thecivil and imperial law, and the municipal law of all Christian nations:yea, to spare the life, and not strike whom God bids strike and soseverely punish in so odious a treason against God, is not only unlawful, but doubtless as great a sin in the magistrate as was Saul's sparingAgag. " He says also that the crime is so abominable, that it may be provedby evidence which would not be received against any otheroffenders, --young children, who knew not the nature of an oath, andpersons of an infamous character, being sufficient witnesses against them;but lest the innocent should be accused of a crime so difficult to beacquitted of, he recommends that in all cases the ordeal should beresorted to. He says, "Two good helps may be used: the one is the findingof their mark, and the trying the insensibleness thereof; the other istheir floating on the water, --for, as in a secret murther, if the deadcarcass be at any time thereafter handled by the murtherer, it will gushout of blood, as if the blood were crying to Heaven for revenge of themurtherer (God having appointed that secret supernatural sign for trial ofthat secret unnatural crime), so that it appears that God hath appointed(for a supernatural sign of the monstrous impiety of witches) that thewater shall refuse to receive them in her bosom that have shaken off themthe sacred water of baptism, and wilfully refused the benefitthereof;--no, not so much as their eyes are able to shed tears (threatenand torture them as you please), while first they repent (God notpermitting them to dissemble their obstinacy in so horrible a crime);albeit, the womenkind especially, be able otherwise to shed tears at everylight occasion when they will, yea, although it were dissembling like thecrocodiles. "

[Illustration: PIETRO D'APONE. ]

When such doctrines as these were openly promulgated by the highestauthority in the realm, and who, in promulgating them, flattered, but didnot force the public opinion, it is not surprising that the sad delusionshould have increased and multiplied until the race of wizards and witchesreplenished the earth. The reputation which he lost by being afraid of anaked sword, he more than regained by his courage in combating the devil. The Kirk shewed itself a most zealous coadjutor, especially during thosehalcyon days when it was not at issue with the king upon other matters ofdoctrine and prerogative. 

On his accession to the throne of England in 1603, James came amongst apeople who had heard with admiration of his glorious deeds against thewitches. He himself left no part of his ancient prejudices behind him; andhis advent was the signal for the persecution to burst forth in Englandwith a fury equal to that in Scotland. It had languished a little duringthe latter years of the reign of Elizabeth; but the very first parliamentof King James brought forward the subject. James was flattered by theirpromptitude, and the act passed in 1604. On the second reading in theHouse of Lords, the bill passed into a committee, in which were twelvebishops. By it was enacted, "That if any person shall use, practise, orexercise any conjuration of any wicked or evil spirit, or shall consult, covenant with, or feed any such spirit, the first offence to beimprisonment for a year, and standing in the pillory once a quarter; thesecond offence to be death. "

The minor punishment seems but rarely to have been inflicted. Every recordthat has been preserved mentions that the witches were hanged and burned, or burned, without the previous strangling, "alive and quick. " During thewhole of James's reign, amid the civil wars of his successor, the sway ofthe Long Parliament, the usurpation of Cromwell, and the reign of CharlesII. , there was no abatement of the persecution. If at any time it ragedwith less virulence, it was when Cromwell and the Independents weremasters. Dr. Zachary Grey, the editor of an edition of "Hudibras, " informsus, in a note to that work, that he himself perused a list of threethousand witches who were executed in the time of the Long Parliamentalone. During the first eighty years of the seventeenth century, thenumber executed has been estimated at five hundred annually, making thefrightful total of forty thousand. Some of these cases deserve to becited. The great majority resemble closely those already mentioned; buttwo or three of them let in a new light upon the popular superstition. 

Every one has heard of the "Lancashire witches, " a phrase now used tocompliment the ladies of that county for their bewitching beauty; but itis not every one who has heard the story in which it originated. Avillanous boy, named Robinson, was the chief actor in the tragedy. Heconfessed many years afterwards that he had been suborned by his fatherand other persons to give false evidence against the unhappy witches whomhe brought to the stake. The time of this famous trial was about the year1634. This boy Robinson, whose father was a wood-cutter, residing on theborders of Pendle Forest, in Lancashire, spread abroad many rumoursagainst one Mother Dickenson, whom he accused of being a witch. Theserumours coming to the ears of the local magistracy, the boy was sent forand strictly examined. He told the following extraordinary story withouthesitation or prevarication, and apparently in so open and honest amanner, that no one who heard him doubted the truth of it. He said, thatas he was roaming about in one of the glades of the forest, amusinghimself by gathering blackberries, he saw two greyhounds before him, whichhe thought at the time belonged to some gentleman of the neighbourhood. Being fond of sport, he proposed to have a course; and a hare beingstarted, he incited the hounds to run. Neither of them would stir. Angryat the beasts, he seized hold of a switch, with which he was about topunish them, when one of them suddenly started up in the form of a woman, and the other of a little boy. He at once recognised the woman to be thewitch Mother Dickenson. She offered him some money to induce him to sellhis soul to the devil; but he refused. Upon this she took a bridle out ofher pocket, and shaking it over the head of the other little boy, he wasinstantly turned into a horse. Mother Dickenson then seized him in herarms, sprang upon the horse, and placing him before her, rode with theswiftness of the wind over forests, fields, bogs, and rivers, until theycame to a large barn. The witch alighted at the door, and, taking him bythe hand, led him inside. There he saw seven old women pulling at sevenhalters which hung from the roof. As they pulled, large pieces of meat, lumps of butter, loaves of bread, basins of milk, hot puddings, blackpuddings, and other rural dainties, fell from the halters on to the floor. While engaged in this charm, they made such ugly faces, and looked sofiendish, that he was quite frightened. After they had pulled in thismanner enough for an ample feast, they set-to, and shewed, whatever mightbe said of the way in which their supper was procured, that theirepicurism was a little more refined than that of the Scottish witches, who, according to Gellie Duncan's confession, feasted upon dead men'sflesh in the old kirk of Berwick. The boy added, that as soon as supperwas ready, many other witches came to partake of it, several of whom henamed. 

In consequence of this story, many persons were arrested, and the boyRobinson was led about from church to church, in order that he might pointout to the officers by whom he was accompanied the hags he had seen in thebarn. Altogether, about twenty persons were thrown into prison; eight ofthem were condemned to die, including Mother Dickenson, upon this evidencealone, and executed accordingly. Among the wretches who concocted thisnotable story, not one was ever brought to justice for his perjury; andRobinson, the father, gained considerable sums by threatening persons whowere rich enough to buy off exposure. 

Among the ill-weeds which flourished amid the long dissensions of thecivil war, Matthew Hopkins, the witch-finder, stands eminent in hissphere. This vulgar fellow resided, in the year 1644, at the town ofManningtree, in Essex, and made himself very conspicuous in discoveringthe devil's marks upon several unhappy witches. The credit he gained byhis skill in this instance seems to have inspired him to renewedexertions. In the course of a very short time, whenever a witch was spokenof in Essex, Matthew Hopkins was sure to be present, aiding the judgeswith his knowledge of "such cattle, " as he called them. As his reputationincreased, he assumed the title of "Witch-finder General, " and travelledthrough the counties of Norfolk, Essex, Huntingdon, and Sussex, for thesole purpose of finding out witches. In one year he brought sixty poorcreatures to the stake. The test he commonly adopted was that of swimming, so highly recommended by King James in his _Demonologie_. The hands andfeet of the suspected persons were tied together crosswise, the thumb ofthe right hand to the toe of the left foot, and _vice versa_. They werethen wrapped up in a large sheet or blanket, and laid upon their backs ina pond or river. If they sank, their friends and relatives had the poorconsolation of knowing they were innocent; but there was an end of them:if they floated, which, when laid carefully on the water, was generallythe case, there was also an end of them; for they were deemed guilty ofwitchcraft, and burned accordingly. 

Another test was to make them repeat the Lord's prayer and creed. It wasaffirmed that no witch could do so correctly. If she missed a word, oreven pronounced one incoherently, which in her trepidation it was mostprobable she would, she was accounted guilty. It was thought that witchescould not weep more than three tears, and those only from the left eye. Thus the conscious innocence of many persons, which gave them fortitude tobear unmerited torture without flinching, was construed by theirunmerciful tormentors into proofs of guilt. In some districts the testresorted to was to weigh the culprit against the church Bible. If thesuspected witch proved heavier than the Bible, she was set at liberty. This mode was far too humane for the witch-finders by profession. Hopkinsalways maintained that the most legitimate modes were pricking andswimming. 

Hopkins used to travel through his counties like a man of consideration, attended by his two assistants, always putting up at the chief inn of theplace, and always at the cost of the authorities. His charges were twentyshillings a town, his expenses of living while there, and his carriagethither and back. This he claimed whether he found witches or not. If hefound any, he claimed twenty shillings a head in addition when they werebrought to execution. For about three years he carried on this infamoustrade, success making him so insolent and rapacious that high and lowbecame his enemies. The Rev. Mr. Gaul, a clergyman of Houghton, inHuntingdonshire, wrote a pamphlet impugning his pretensions, and accusinghim of being a common nuisance. Hopkins replied in an angry letter to thefunctionaries of Houghton, stating his intention to visit their town; butdesiring to know whether it afforded many such sticklers for witchcraft asMr. Gaul, and whether they were willing to receive and entertain him withthe customary hospitality, if he so far honoured them. He added, by way ofthreat, that in case he did not receive a satisfactory reply, "he wouldwaive their shire altogether, and betake himself to such places where hemight do and punish, not only without control, but with thanks andrecompense. " The authorities of Houghton were not much alarmed at thisawful threat of letting them alone. They very wisely took no notice eitherof him or his letter. 

Mr. Gaul describes in his pamphlet one of the modes employed by Hopkins, which was sure to swell his revenues very considerably. It was a proofeven more atrocious than the swimming. He says, that the "Witch-finderGeneral" used to take the suspected witch and place her in the middle of aroom, upon a stool or table, cross-legged, or in some other uneasyposture. If she refused to sit in this manner, she was bound with strongcords. Hopkins then placed persons to watch her for four-and-twenty hours, during which time she was to be kept without meat or drink. It wassupposed that one of her imps would come during that interval and suck herblood. As the imp might come in the shape of a wasp, a moth, a fly, orother insect, a hole was made in the door or window to let it enter. Thewatchers were ordered to keep a sharp look out, and endeavour to kill anyinsect that appeared in the room. If any fly escaped, and they could notkill it, the woman was guilty; the fly was her imp, and she was sentencedto be burned, and twenty shillings went into the pockets of MasterHopkins. In this manner he made one old woman confess, because four flieshad appeared in the room, that she was attended by four imps, named"Ilemazar, " "Pye-wackett, " "Peck-in-the-crown, " and "Grizel-Greedigut. "

[Illustration: MATTHEW HOPKINS. [32]]

 [32] This illustration, representing Matthew Hopkins examining two witches, who are confessing to him the names of their imps and familiars, is copied from Caulfield's _Memoirs of Remarkable Persons_, 1794, where it is taken from an extremely rare print. 

It is consoling to think that this impostor perished in his own snare. Mr. Gaul's exposure and his own rapacity weakened his influence among themagistrates; and the populace, who began to find that not even the mostvirtuous and innocent were secure from his persecution, looked upon himwith undisguised aversion. He was beset by a mob at a village in Suffolk, and accused of being himself a wizard. An old reproach was brought againsthim, that he had, by means of sorcery, cheated the devil out of a certainmemorandum-book, in which he, Satan, had entered the names of all thewitches in England. "Thus, " said the populace, "you find out witches, notby God's aid, but by the devil's. " In vain he denied his guilt. Thepopulace longed to put him to his own test. He was speedily stripped, andhis thumbs and toes tied together. He was then placed in a blanket, andcast into a pond. Some say that he floated, and that he was taken out, tried, and executed upon no other proof of his guilt. Others assert thathe was drowned. This much is positive, that there was an end of him. As nojudicial entry of his trial and execution is to be found in any register, it appears most probable that he expired by the hands of the mob. Butlerhas immortalised this scamp in the following lines of his _Hudibras_:

 "Hath not this present Parliament A lieger to the devil sent, Fully empower'd to treat about Finding revolted witches out? And has he not within a year Hang'd threescore of them in one shire? Some only for not being drown'd, And some for sitting above ground Whole days and nights upon their breeches, And feeling pain, were hang'd for witches; And some for putting knavish tricks Upon green geese or turkey chicks; Or pigs that suddenly deceased Of griefs unnatural, as he guessed; Who proved himself at length a witch, And made a rod for his own breech. "

In Scotland also witch-finding became a trade. They were known under thedesignation of "common prickers, " and, like Hopkins, received a fee foreach witch they discovered. At the trial of Janet Peaston, in 1646, themagistrates of Dalkeith "caused John Kincaid of Tranent, the commonpricker, to exercise his craft upon her. He found two marks of the devil'smaking; for she could not feel the pin when it was put into either of thesaid marks, nor did the marks bleed when the pin was taken out again. Whenshe was asked where she thought the pins were put in her, she pointed to apart of her body distant from the real place. They were pins of threeinches in length. "[33]

 [33] Pitcairn's _Records of Justiciary_. 

These common prickers became at last so numerous that they were considerednuisances. The judges refused to take their evidence; and in 1678 theprivy council of Scotland condescended to hear the complaint of an honestwoman who had been indecently exposed by one of them, and expressed theiropinion that common prickers were common cheats. 

But such an opinion was not formed in high places before hundreds ofinnocent persons had fallen victims. The parliaments had encouraged thedelusion both in England and Scotland; and by arming these fellows with asort of authority, had in a manner forced the magistrates and ministers toreceive their evidence. The fate of one poor old gentleman, who fell avictim to the arts of Hopkins in 1646, deserves to be recorded. Mr. Louis, a venerable clergyman, upwards of seventy years of age, and who had beenrector of Framlingham, in Suffolk, for fifty years, excited suspicion thathe was a wizard. Being a violent royalist, he was likely to meet with nosympathy at that time; and even his own parishioners, whom he had servedso long and so faithfully, turned their backs upon him as soon as he wasaccused. Placed under the hands of Hopkins, who knew so well how to bringthe refractory to confession, the old man, the light of whose intellecthad become somewhat dimmed from age, confessed that he was a wizard. Hesaid he had two imps that continually excited him to do evil; and that oneday, when he was walking on the sea-coast, one of them prompted him toexpress a wish that a ship, whose sails were just visible in the distance, might sink. He consented, and saw the vessel sink before his eyes. He was, upon this confession, tried and condemned. On his trial, the flame ofreason burned up as brightly as ever. He denied all that had been allegedagainst him, and cross-examined Hopkins with great tact and severity. After his condemnation, he begged that the funeral service of the Churchmight be read for him. The request was refused, and he repeated it forhimself from memory as he was led to the scaffold. 

A poor woman in Scotland was executed upon evidence even less strong thanthis. John Bain, a common pricker, swore that, as he passed her door, heheard her talking to the devil. She said, in defence, that it was afoolish practice she had of talking to herself, and several of herneighbours corroborated her statement; but the evidence of the pricker wasreceived. He swore that none ever talked to themselves who were notwitches. The devil's mark being found upon her, the additional testimonyof her guilt was deemed conclusive, and she was "convict and brynt. "

From the year 1652 to 1682, these trials diminished annually in number, and acquittals were by no means so rare as they had been. To doubt inwitchcraft was no longer dangerous. Before country justices, condemnationson the most absurd evidence still continued; but when the judges of theland had to charge the jury, they took a more humane and philosophicalview. By degrees, the educated classes (comprised in those days withinvery narrow limits) openly expressed their unbelief of modern witchcraft, although they were not bold enough to deny its existence altogether. Between them and the believers in the old doctrine fierce argumentsensued, and the sceptics were designated Sadducees. To convince them, thelearned and Reverend Joseph Glanvil wrote his well-known work, _Sadducismus Triumphatus_, and _The Collection of Relations_; the firstpart intended as a philosophical inquiry into witchcraft, and the power ofthe devil "to assume a mortal shape:" the latter containing what heconsidered a multitude of well-authenticated modern instances. 

[Illustration: SIR MATTHEW HALE. ]

But though progress was made, it was slow. In 1664, the venerable SirMatthew Hale condemned two women, named Amy Duny and Rose Cullender, tothe stake at St. Edmondsbury, upon evidence the most ridiculous. These twoold women, whose ugliness gave their neighbours the first idea that theywere witches, went to a shop to purchase herrings, and were refused. Indignant at the prejudice against them, they were not sparing of theirabuse. Shortly afterward, the daughter of the herring-dealer fell sick, and a cry was raised that she was bewitched by the old women who had beenrefused the herrings. This girl was subject to epileptic fits. To discoverthe guilt of Amy Duny and Rose Cullender, the girl's eyes were blindedclosely with a shawl, and the witches were commanded to touch her. Theydid so, and she was immediately seized with a fit. Upon this evidence theywere sent to prison. The girl was afterwards touched by an indifferentperson, and the force of her imagination was so great, that, thinking itwas again the witches, she fell down in a violent fit as before. This, however, was not received in favour of the accused. 

The following extract, from the published reports of the trial, will shewthe sort of evidence which was received:

"Samuel Pacey, of Leystoff (a good, sober man), being sworn, said that, onThursday the 10th of October last, his younger daughter, Deborah, aboutnine years old, was suddenly taken so lame that she could not stand on herlegs, and so continued till the 17th of the same month, when the childdesired to be carried to a bank on the east side of the house, lookingtowards the sea; and, while she was sitting there, Amy Duny came to thisexaminant's house to buy some herrings, but was denied. Then she cametwice more, but, being as often denied, she went away discontented andgrumbling. At this instant of time, the child was taken with terriblefits, complaining of a pain in her stomach, as if she was pricked withpins, shrieking out with a voice like a whelp, and thus continued till the30th of the same month. This examinant further saith, that Amy Duny, having long had the reputation of a witch, and his child having, in theintervals of her fits, constantly cried out on her as the cause of herdisorder, saying, that the said Amy did appear to her and fright her; hehimself did suspect the said Amy to be a witch, and charged her with beingthe cause of his child's illness, and set her in the stocks. Two daysafter, his daughter Elizabeth was taken with such strange fits, that theycould not force open her mouth without a tap; and the younger child beingin the same condition, they used to her the same remedy. Both childrengrievously complained that Amy Duny and another woman, whose habit andlooks they described, did appear to them and torment them, and would cryout, 'There stands Amy Duny! There stands Rose Cullender!' the otherperson who afflicted them. Their fits were not alike. Sometimes they werelame on the right side; sometimes on the left; and sometimes so sore, thatthey could not bear to be touched. Sometimes they were perfectly well inother respects, but they could not _hear_; at other times they could not_see_. Sometimes they lost their speech for one, two, and once for eightdays together. At times they had swooning fits, and, when they couldspeak, were taken with a fit of coughing, and vomited phlegm and crookedpins; and once a great twopenny nail, with above forty pins; which nailhe, the examinant, saw vomited up, with many of the pins. The nail andpins were produced in the court. Thus the children continued for twomonths, during which time the examinant often made them read in the NewTestament, and observed, when they came to the words _Lord Jesus_, or_Christ_, they could not pronounce them, but fell into a fit. When theycame to the word _Satan_, or _devil_, they would point, and say, 'Thisbites, but makes me speak right well. ' Finding his children thus tormentedwithout hopes of recovery, he sent them to his sister, Margaret Arnold, atYarmouth, being willing to try whether change of air would help them. 

"Margaret Arnold was the next witness. Being sworn, she said, that aboutthe 30th of November, Elizabeth and Deborah Pacey came to her house, withher brother, who told her what had happened, and that he thought hischildren bewitched. She, this examinant, did not much regard it, supposingthe children had played tricks, and put the pins into their mouthsthemselves. She therefore took all the pins from their clothes, sewingthem with thread instead of pinning them. But, notwithstanding, theyraised, at times, at least thirty pins in her presence, and had terriblefits; in which fits they would cry out upon Amy Duny and Rose Cullender, saying, that they saw them and heard them threatening, as before; thatthey saw things like mice running about the house; and one of them catchedone, and threw it into the fire, which made a noise like a rat. Anothertime the younger child, being out of doors, a thing like a bee would haveforced itself into her mouth, at which the child ran screaming into thehouse, and before this examinant could come at her, fell into a fit, andvomited a twopenny nail, with a broad head. After that, this examinantasked the child how she came by this nail, when she answered, 'The beebrought the nail, and forced it into my mouth. ' At other times, the eldestchild told this examinant that she saw flies bring her crooked pins. Shewould then fall into a fit, and vomit such pins. One time the said childsaid she saw a mouse, and crept under the table to look for it; andafterwards, the child seemed to put something into her apron, saying, 'Shehad caught it. ' She then ran to the fire, and threw it in, on which theredid appear to this examinant something like a flash of gunpowder, althoughshe does own she saw nothing in the child's hand. Once the child, beingspeechless, but otherwise very sensible, ran up and down the house, crying, 'Hush! hush!' as if she had seen poultry; but this examinant sawnothing. At last the child catched at something, and threw it into thefire. Afterwards, when the child could speak, this examinant asked herwhat she saw at the time? She answered that she saw a duck. Another timethe youngest child said, after a fit, that Amy Duny had been with her, andtempted her to drown herself, or cut her throat, or otherwise destroyherself. Another time they both cried out upon Amy Duny and RoseCullender, saying, 'Why don't you come yourselves? Why do you send yourimps to torment us?'"

The celebrated Sir Thomas Brown, the author of _Vulgar Errors_, was alsoexamined as a witness upon the trial. Being desired to give his opinion ofthe three persons in court, he said he was clearly of opinion that theywere bewitched. He said there had lately been a discovery of witches inDenmark, who used the same way of tormenting persons, by conveying crookedpins, needles, and nails into their bodies. That he thought, in suchcases, the devil acted upon human bodies by natural means, namely, byexciting and stirring up the superabundant humours; he did afflict them ina more surprising manner by the same diseases their bodies were usuallysubject to; that these fits might be natural, only raised to a greatdegree by the subtlety of the devil, co-operating with the malice of thesewitches. 

[Illustration: SIR THOMAS BROWN. ]

The evidence being concluded, Sir Matthew Hale addressed the jury. Hesaid, he would waive repeating the evidence, to prevent any mistake, andtold the jury there were two things they had to inquire into. First, Whether or not these children were bewitched; secondly, Whether thesewomen did bewitch them. He said, he did not in the least doubt there werewitches; first, Because the Scriptures affirmed it; secondly, Because thewisdom of all nations, particularly our own, had provided laws againstwitchcraft, which implied their belief of such a crime. He desired themstrictly to observe the evidence, and begged of God to direct their heartsin the weighty concern they had in hand, since, to condemn the innocentand let the guilty go free are both an abomination to the Lord. 

The jury then retired, and in about half an hour returned a verdict ofguilty upon all the indictments, being thirteen in number. The nextmorning the children came with their father to the lodgings of Sir MatthewHale, very well, and quite restored to their usual health. Mr. Pacey, being asked at what time their health began to improve, replied, that theywere quite well in half an hour after the conviction of the prisoners. 

Many attempts were made to induce the unfortunate women to confess theirguilt; but in vain, and they were both hanged. 

Eleven trials were instituted before Chief Justice Holt for witchcraft, between the years 1694 and 1701. The evidence was of the usual character;but Holt appealed so successfully in each case to the common sense of thejury, that they were every one acquitted. A general feeling seemed topervade the country that blood enough had been shed upon these absurdcharges. Now and then, the flame of persecution burnt up in a remotedistrict; but these instances were no longer looked upon as mere mattersof course. They appear, on the contrary, to have excited much attention; asure proof, if no other were to be obtained, that they were becomingunfrequent. 

A case of witchcraft was tried in 1711, before Lord Chief Justice Powell;in which, however, the jury persisted in a verdict of guilty, though theevidence was of the usual absurd and contradictory character, and theenlightened judge did all in his power to bring them to a rightconclusion. The accused person was one Jane Wenham, better known as theWitch of Walkerne; and the persons who were alleged to have suffered fromher witchcraft were two young women, named Thorne and Street. A witness, named Mr. Arthur Chauncy, deposed, that he had seen Ann Thorne in severalof her fits, and that she always recovered upon prayers being said, or ifJane Wenham came to her. He related, that he had pricked the prisonerseveral times in the arms, but could never fetch any blood from her; thathe had seen her vomit pins, when there were none in her clothes or withinher reach; and that he had preserved several of them, which he was readyto produce. The judge, however, told him that was needless, _as hesupposed they were crooked pins_. 

Mr. Francis Bragge, another witness, deposed, that strange "cakes" ofbewitched feathers having been taken from Ann Thorne's pillow, he wasanxious to see them. He went into a room where some of these featherswere, and took two of the cakes, and compared them together. They wereboth of a circular figure, something larger than a crown piece; and heobserved that the small feathers were placed in a nice and curious order, at equal distances from each other, making so many radii of the circle, inthe centre of which the quill-ends of the feathers met. He counted thenumber of these feathers, and found them to be exactly thirty-two in eachcake. He afterwards endeavoured to pull off two or three of them, andobserved that they were all fastened together by a sort of viscous matter, which would stretch seven or eight times in a thread before it broke. Having taken off several of these feathers, he removed the viscous matterwith his fingers, and found under it, in the centre, some short hairs, black and grey, matted together, which he verily believed to be cat'shair. He also said, that Jane Wenham confessed to him that she hadbewitched the pillow, and had practised witchcraft for sixteen years. 

The judge interrupted the witness at this stage, and said, he should verymuch like to see an enchanted feather, and seemed to wonder when he wastold that none of these strange cakes had been preserved. His lordshipasked the witness why he did not keep one or two of them, and was informedthat they had all been burnt, in order to relieve the bewitched person ofthe pains she suffered, which could not be so well effected by any othermeans. 

A man, named Thomas Ireland, deposed, that hearing several times a greatnoise of cats crying and screaming about his house, he went out andfrightened them away, and they all ran towards the cottage of Jane Wenham. One of them he swore positively had a face very like Jane Wenham's. Another man, named Burville, gave similar evidence, and swore that he hadoften seen a cat with Jane Wenham's face. Upon one occasion he was in AnnThorne's chamber, when several cats came in, and among them the cat abovestated. This witness would have favoured the court with a much longerstatement, but was stopped by the judge, who said he had heard quiteenough. 

The prisoner, in her defence, said nothing, but that "she was a clearwoman. " The learned judge then summed up, leaving it to the jury todetermine whether such evidence as they had heard was sufficient to takeaway the prisoner's life upon the indictment. After a long deliberationthey brought in their verdict, that she was guilty upon the evidence. Thejudge then asked them whether they found her guilty upon the indictment ofconversing with the devil in the shape of a cat? The sapient foreman verygravely answered, "We find her guilty of _that_. " The learned judge thenvery reluctantly proceeded to pass sentence of death; but, by hispersevering exertions, a pardon was at last obtained, and the wretched oldwoman was set at liberty. 

In the year 1716, a woman and her daughter--the latter only nine years ofage--were hanged at Huntingdon for selling their souls to the devil, andraising a storm by pulling off their stockings and making a lather ofsoap. This appears to have been the last judicial execution in England. From that time to the year 1736, the populace raised at intervals the oldcry, and more than once endangered the lives of poor women by draggingthem through ponds on suspicion; but the philosophy of those who, fromtheir position, sooner or later give the tone to the opinions and moralsof the poor, was silently working a cure for the evil. The fear of witchesceased to be epidemic, and became individual, lingering only in mindsfettered by inveterate prejudice or brutalising superstition. In the year1736, the penal statute of James I. Was finally blotted from thestatute-book, and suffered no longer to disgrace the advancingintelligence of the country. Pretenders to witchcraft, fortune-tellers, conjurors, and all their train, were liable only to the common punishmentof rogues and impostors--imprisonment and the pillory. 

In Scotland, the delusion also assumed the same phases, and was graduallyextinguished in the light of civilisation. As in England, the progress ofimprovement was slow. Up to the year 1665, little or no diminution of themania was perceptible. In 1643, the General Assembly recommended that theprivy council should institute a standing commission, composed of any"understanding gentlemen or magistrates, " to try the witches, who werestated to have increased enormously of late years. In 1649, an act waspassed, confirmatory of the original statute of Queen Mary, explainingsome points of the latter which were doubtful, and enacting severepenalties, not only against witches themselves, but against all whocovenanted with them, or sought by their means to pry into the secrets offuturity, or cause any evil to the life, lands, or limbs of theirneighbours. For the next ten years, the popular madness upon this subjectwas perhaps more furious than ever; upwards of four thousand personssuffered for the crime during that interval. This was the consequence ofthe act of parliament and the unparalleled severity of the magistrates;the latter frequently complained that for two witches they burned one day, there were ten to burn the next: they never thought that they themselveswere the cause of the increase. In a single circuit, held at Glasgow, Ayr, and Stirling, in 1659, seventeen unhappy creatures were burned by judicialsentence for trafficking with Satan. In one day (November 7, 1661), theprivy council issued no less than fourteen commissions for trials in theprovinces. Next year, the violence of the persecution seems to haveabated. From 1662 to 1668, although "the understanding gentlemen andmagistrates" already mentioned, continued to try and condemn, the HighCourt of Justiciary had but one offender of this class to deal with, andshe was acquitted. James Welsh, a common pricker, was ordered to bepublicly whipped through the streets of Edinburgh for falsely accusing awoman of witchcraft; a fact which alone proves that the superior courtsifted the evidence in these cases with much more care and severity thanit had done a few years previously. The enlightened Sir George Mackenzie, styled by Dryden "the noble wit of Scotland, " laboured hard to introducethis rule into court, that the confessions of the witches should be heldof little worth, and that the evidence of the prickers and otherinterested persons should be received with distrust and jealousy. This wasreversing the old practice, and saved many innocent lives. Though a firmbeliever both in ancient and modern witchcraft, he could not shut his eyesto the atrocities daily committed under the name of justice. In his workon the Criminal Law of Scotland, published in 1678, he says, "From thehorridness of this crime, I do conclude that, of all others, it requiresthe clearest relevancy and most convincing probature; and I condemn, nextto the witches themselves, those cruel and too forward judges who burnpersons by thousands as guilty of this crime. " In the same year, Sir JohnClerk plumply refused to serve as a commissioner on trials for witchcraft, alleging, by way of excuse, "that he was not himself good conjuror enoughto be duly qualified. " The views entertained by Sir George Mackenzie wereso favourably received by the Lords of Session, that he was deputed, in1680, to report to them on the cases of a number of poor women who werethen in prison awaiting their trial. Sir George stated that there was noevidence against them whatever but their own confessions, which wereabsurd and contradictory, and drawn from them by severe torture. They wereimmediately discharged. 

For the next sixteen years the Lords of Session were unoccupied withtrials for witchcraft. Not one is entered upon the record. But in 1697 acase occurred which equalled in absurdity any of those that signalised thedark reign of King James. A girl named Christiana Shaw, eleven years ofage, the daughter of John Shaw of Bargarran, was subject to fits; andbeing of a spiteful temper, she accused her maid-servant, with whom shehad frequent quarrels, of bewitching her. Her story unfortunately wasbelieved. Encouraged to tell all the persecutions of the devil which themaid had sent to torment her, she in the end concocted a romance thatinvolved twenty-one persons. There was no other evidence against them butthe fancies of this lying child, and the confessions which pain hadextorted from them; but upon this no less than five women were condemnedbefore Lord Blantyre and the rest of the commissioners, appointedspecially by the privy council to try this case. They were burned on theGreen at Paisley. The warlock of the party, one John Reed, who was alsocondemned, hanged himself in prison. It was the general belief in Paisleythat the devil had strangled him lest he should have revealed in his lastmoments too many of the unholy secrets of witchcraft. This trial excitedconsiderable disgust in Scotland. The Rev. Mr. Bell, a contemporarywriter, observed that, in this business, "persons of more goodness andesteem than most of their calumniators were defamed for witches. " He adds, that the persons chiefly to blame were "certain ministers of too muchforwardness and absurd credulity, and some topping professors in and aboutGlasgow. "[34]

 [34] Preface to _Law's Memorials_, edited by Sharpe. 

After this trial, there again occurs a lapse of seven years, when thesubject was painfully forced upon public attention by the brutal crueltyof the mob at Pittenween. Two women were accused of having bewitched astrolling beggar who was subject to fits, or who pretended to be so, forthe purpose of exciting commiseration. They were cast into prison, andtortured until they confessed. One of them, named Janet Cornfoot, contrived to escape, but was brought back to Pittenween next day by aparty of soldiers. On her approach to the town she was unfortunately metby a furious mob, composed principally of fishermen and their wives, whoseized upon her with the intention of swimming her. They forced her awayto the sea-shore, and tying a rope around her body, secured the end of itto the mast of a fishing-boat lying alongside. In this manner they duckedher several times. When she was half dead, a sailor in the boat cut awaythe rope, and the mob dragged her through the sea to the beach. Here, asshe lay quite insensible, a brawny ruffian took down the door of his hut, close by, and placed it on her back. The mob gathered large stones fromthe beach and piled them upon her till the wretched woman was pressed todeath. No magistrate made the slightest attempt to interfere; and thesoldiers looked on, delighted spectators. A great outcry was raisedagainst this culpable remissness, but no judicial inquiry was set on foot. This happened in 1704. 

The next case we hear of is that of Elspeth Rule, found guilty ofwitchcraft before Lord Anstruther, at the Dumfries circuit, in 1708. Shewas sentenced to be marked in the cheek with a red-hot iron, and banishedthe realm of Scotland for life. 

Again there is a long interval. In 1718, the remote county of Caithness, where the delusion remained in all its pristine vigour for years after ithad ceased elsewhere, was startled from its propriety by the cry ofwitchcraft. A silly fellow, named William Montgomery, a carpenter, had amortal antipathy to cats; and somehow or other these animals generallychose his back-yard as the scene of their catterwaulings. He puzzled hisbrains for a long time to know why he, above all his neighbours, should beso pestered. At last he came to the sage conclusion that his tormentorswere no cats, but witches. In this opinion he was supported by hismaid-servant, who swore a round oath that she had often heard theaforesaid cats talking together in human voices. The next time the unluckytabbies assembled in his back-yard, the valiant carpenter was on thealert. Arming himself with an axe, a dirk, and a broadsword, he rushed outamong them. One of them he wounded in the back, a second in the hip, andthe leg of a third he maimed with his axe; but he could not capture any ofthem. A few days afterwards, two old women of the parish died; and it wassaid, that when their bodies were laid out, there appeared upon the backof one the mark as of a recent wound, and a similar scar upon the hip ofthe other. The carpenter and his maid were convinced that they were thevery cats, and the whole county repeated the same story. Every one wasupon the look-out for proofs corroborative; a very remarkable one was soondiscovered. Nanny Gilbert, a wretched old creature of upwards of seventyyears of age, was found in bed with her leg broken. As she was ugly enoughfor a witch, it was asserted that she also was one of the cats that hadfared so ill at the hands of the carpenter. The latter, when informed ofthe popular suspicion, asserted that he distinctly remembered to havestruck one of the cats a blow with the back of his broadsword, which oughtto have broken her leg. Nanny was immediately dragged from her bed andthrown into prison. Before she was put to the torture, she explained in avery natural and intelligible manner how she had broken her limb; but thisaccount did not give satisfaction. The professional persuasions of thetorturer made her tell a different tale, and she confessed that she wasindeed a witch, and had been wounded by Montgomery on the night stated;that the two old women recently deceased were witches also, besides abouta score of others whom she named. The poor creature suffered so much bythe removal from her own home, and the tortures inflicted upon her, thatshe died the next day in prison. Happily for the persons she had named inher confession, Dundas of Arniston, at that time the king'sadvocate-general, wrote to the sheriff-depute, one Captain Ross ofLittledean, cautioning him not to proceed to trial, the "thing being oftoo great difficulty, and beyond the jurisdiction of an inferior court. "Dundas himself examined the precognition with great care, and was soconvinced of the utter folly of the whole case, that he quashed allfurther proceedings. 

We find this same sheriff-depute of Caithness very active four yearsafterwards in another trial for witchcraft. In spite of the warning he hadreceived that all such cases were to be tried in future by the superiorcourts, he condemned to death an old woman at Dornoch, upon the charge ofbewitching the cows and pigs of her neighbours. This poor creature wasinsane, and actually laughed and clapped her hands at sight of "the bonniefire" that was to consume her. She had a daughter who was lame both of herhands and feet, and one of the charges brought against her was, that shehad used this daughter as a pony in her excursions to join the devil'ssabbath, and that the devil himself had shod her, and produced lameness. 

This was the last execution that took place in Scotland for witchcraft. The penal statutes were repealed in 1736; and, as in England, whipping, the pillory, or imprisonment, were declared the future punishments of allpretenders to magic or witchcraft. 

Still for many years after this the superstition lingered both in Englandand Scotland, and in some districts is far from being extinct even at thisday. But before we proceed to trace it any further than to its legalextinction, we have yet to see the frightful havoc it made in continentalEurope from the commencement of the seventeenth to the middle of theeighteenth century. France, Germany, and Switzerland were the countrieswhich suffered most from the epidemic. The number of victims in thesecountries during the sixteenth century has already been mentioned; but atthe early part of the seventeenth, the numbers are so great, especially inGermany, that were they not to be found in the official records of thetribunals, it would be almost impossible to believe that mankind couldever have been so maddened and deluded. To use the words of the learnedand indefatigable Horst, [35] "the world seemed to be like a large madhousefor witches and devils to play their antics in. " Satan was believed to beat every body's call to raise the whirlwind, draw down the lightning, blight the productions of the earth, or destroy the health and paralysethe limbs of man. This belief, so insulting to the majesty and beneficenceof the Creator, was shared by the most pious ministers of religion. Thosewho in their morning and evening prayers acknowledged the one true God, and praised him for the blessings of the seed-time and the harvest, wereconvinced that frail humanity could enter into a compact with the spiritsof hell to subvert his laws and thwart all his merciful intentions. Successive popes, from Innocent VIII. Downwards, promulgated thisdegrading doctrine, which spread so rapidly, that society seemed to bedivided into two great factions, the bewitching and the bewitched. 

 [35] _Zauberbibliothek_, Thiel 5. 

The commissioners named by Innocent VIII. To prosecute the witch-trials inGermany were, Jacob Sprenger, so notorious for his work on demonology, entitled the _Malleus Maleficarum, or Hammer to knock down Witches_; HenryInstitor, a learned jurisconsult; and the Bishop of Strasburgh. Bamberg, Trèves, Cologne, Paderborn, and Würzburg, were the chief seats of thecommissioners, who, during their lives alone, condemned to the stake, on avery moderate calculation, upwards of three thousand victims. The numberof witches so increased, that new commissioners were continually appointedin Germany, France, and Switzerland. In Spain and Portugal the Inquisitionalone took cognisance of the crime. It is impossible to search the recordsof those dark, but now happily non-existing tribunals; but the mindrecoils with affright even to form a guess of the multitudes who perished. 

The mode of trial in the other countries is more easily ascertained. Sprenger in Germany, and Bodinus and Delrio in France, have left but tooample a record of the atrocities committed in the much-abused names ofjustice and religion. Bodinus, of great repute and authority in theseventeenth century, says, "The trial of this offence must not beconducted like other crimes. Whoever adheres to the ordinary course ofjustice perverts the spirit of the law, both divine and human. He who isaccused of sorcery should never be acquitted, unless the malice of theprosecutor be clearer than the sun; for it is so difficult to bring fullproof of this secret crime, that out of a million of witches not one wouldbe convicted if the usual course were followed!" Henri Boguet, awitch-finder, who styled himself "The Grand Judge of Witches for theTerritory of St. Claude, " drew up a code for the guidance of all personsengaged in the witch-trials, consisting of seventy articles, quite ascruel as the code of Bodinus. In this document he affirms, that a meresuspicion of witchcraft justifies the immediate arrest and torture of thesuspected person. If the prisoner muttered, looked on the ground, and didnot shed any tears, all these were proofs positive of guilt! In all casesof witchcraft, the evidence of the child ought to be taken against itsparent; and persons of notoriously bad character, although not to bebelieved upon their oaths on the ordinary occasions of dispute that mightarise between man and man, were to be believed, if they swore that anyperson had bewitched them! Who, when he hears that this diabolicaldoctrine was the universally received opinion of the ecclesiastical andcivil authorities, can wonder that thousands upon thousands of unhappypersons should be brought to the stake? that Cologne should for many yearsburn its three hundred witches annually? the district of Bamberg its fourhundred? Nuremberg, Geneva, Paris, Toulouse, Lyons, and other cities, their two hundred?

A few of these trials may be cited, taking them in the order of priority, as they occurred in different parts of the Continent. In 1595, an oldwoman residing in a village near Constance, angry at not being invited toshare the sports of the country people on a day of public rejoicing, washeard to mutter something to herself, and was afterwards seen to proceedthrough the fields towards a hill, where she was lost sight of. A violentthunder-storm arose about two hours afterwards, which wet the dancers tothe skin, and did considerable damage to the plantations. This woman, suspected before of witchcraft, was seized and imprisoned, and accused ofhaving raised the storm, by filling a hole with wine, and stirring itabout with a stick. She was tortured till she confessed, and was burnedalive the next evening. 

[Illustration: CITY OF LYONS. ]

About the same time two sorcerers in Toulouse were accused of havingdragged a crucifix about the streets at midnight, stopping at times tospit upon and kick it, and uttering at intervals an exorcism to raise thedevil. The next day a hail-storm did considerable damage to the crops; anda girl, the daughter of a shoemaker in the town, remembered to have heardin the night the execrations of the wizards. Her story led to theirarrest. The usual means to produce confession were resorted to. Thewizards owned that they could raise tempests whenever they pleased, andnamed several persons who possessed similar powers. They were hanged, andthen burned in the market-place, and seven of the persons they hadmentioned shared the same fate. 

Hoppo and Stadlin, two noted wizards of Germany, were executed in 1599. They implicated twenty or thirty witches, who went about causing women tomiscarry, bringing down the lightning of heaven, and making maidens bringforth toads. To this latter fact several girls were found to swear mostpositively! Stadlin confessed that he had killed seven infants in the wombof one woman. 

Bodinus highly praises the exertions of a witch-finder named Nider, inFrance, who prosecuted so many that he could not calculate them. Some ofthese witches could, by a single word, cause people to fall down dead;others made women go with child three years instead of nine months; whileothers, by certain invocations and ceremonies, could turn the faces oftheir enemies upside down, or twist them round to their backs. Although nowitness was ever procured who saw persons in this horrible state, thewitches confessed that they had the power and exercised it. Nothing morewas wanting to ensure the stake. 

At Amsterdam a crazy girl confessed that she could cause sterility incattle, and bewitch pigs and poultry by merely repeating the magic words_Turius und Shurius Inturius_! She was hanged and burned. Another woman inthe same city, named Kornelis van Purmerund, was arrested in consequenceof some disclosures the former had made. A witness came forward and sworethat she one day looked through the window of her hut, and saw Kornelissitting before a fire muttering something to the devil. She was sure itwas to the devil, because she heard him answer her. Shortly afterwardstwelve black cats ascended out of the floor, and danced on their hind legsaround the witch for the space of about half an hour. They then vanishedwith a horrid noise, and leaving a disagreeable smell behind them. Shealso was hanged and burned. 

At Bamberg, in Bavaria, the executions from the year 1610 to 1640 were atthe rate of about a hundred annually. One woman, suspected of witchcraft, was seized because, having immoderately praised the beauty of a child, ithad shortly afterwards fallen ill and died. She confessed upon the rackthat the devil had given her the power to work evil upon those she hated, by speaking words in their praise. If she said with unwonted fervour, "What a strong man!" "What a lovely woman!" "What a sweet child!" thedevil understood her, and afflicted them with diseases immediately. It isquite unnecessary to state the end of this poor creature. Many women wereexecuted for causing strange substances to lodge in the bodies of thosewho offended them. Bits of wood, nails, hair, egg-shells, bits of glass, shreds of linen and woollen cloth, pebbles, and even hot cinders andknives, were the articles generally chosen. These were believed to remainin the body till the witches confessed or were executed, when they werevoided from the bowels, or by the mouth, nostrils, or ears. Modernphysicians have often had cases of a similar description under their care, where girls have swallowed needles, which have been voided on the arms, legs, and other parts of the body. But the science of that day could notaccount for these phenomena otherwise than by the power of the devil; andevery needle swallowed by a servant-maid cost an old woman her life. Nay, if no more than one suffered in consequence, the district might thinkitself fortunate. The commissioners seldom stopped short at one victim. The revelations of the rack in most cases implicated half a score. 

[Illustration: BAMBERG. ]

Of all the records of the witch-trials preserved for the wonder ofsucceeding ages, that of Würzburg, from 1627 to 1629, is the mostfrightful. Hauber, who has preserved this list in his _Acta et ScriptaMagica_, says, in a note at the end, that it is far from complete, andthat there were a great many other burnings too numerous to specify. Thisrecord, which relates to the city only, and not to the province ofWürzburg, contains the names of one hundred and fifty-seven persons whowere burned in two years in twenty-nine burnings, averaging from five tosix at a time. The list comprises three play-actors, four innkeepers, three common councilmen of Würzburg, fourteen vicars of the cathedral, theburgomaster's lady, an apothecary's wife and daughter, two choristers ofthe cathedral, Göbel Babelin, the prettiest girl in the town, and thewife, the two little sons and the daughter of the councillor Stolzenberg. Rich and poor, young and old, suffered alike. At the seventh of theserecorded burnings, the victims are described as a wandering boy, twelveyears of age, and four strange men and women found sleeping in themarket-place. Thirty-two of the whole number appear to have been vagrants, of both sexes, who, failing to give a satisfactory account of themselves, were accused and found guilty of witchcraft. The number of children on thelist is horrible to think upon. The thirteenth and fourteenth burningscomprised four persons, who are stated to have been a little maiden nineyears of age, a maiden still less, her sister, their mother, and theiraunt, a pretty young woman of twenty-four. At the eighteenth burning thevictims were two boys of twelve, and a girl of fifteen; at the nineteenth, the young heir of the noble house of Rotenhahn, aged nine, and two otherboys, one aged ten, and the other twelve. Among other entries appear thenames of Baunach, the fattest, and Steinacher, the richest burgher inWürzburg. What tended to keep up the delusion in this unhappy city, and, indeed, all over Europe, was the number of hypochondriac and diseasedpersons who came voluntarily forward and made confession of witchcraft. Several of the victims in the foregoing list had only themselves to blamefor their fate. Many again, including the apothecary's wife and daughteralready mentioned, pretended to sorcery, and sold poisons, or attempted bymeans of charms and incantations to raise the devil. But throughout allthis fearful period the delusion of the criminals was as great as that ofthe judges. Depraved persons who in ordinary times would have been thievesor murderers, added the desire of sorcery to their depravity, sometimeswith the hope of acquiring power over their fellows, and sometimes withthe hope of securing impunity in this world by the protection of Satan. One of the persons executed at the first burning, a prostitute, was heardrepeating the exorcism which was supposed to have the power of raising thearch enemy in the form of a goat. This precious specimen of human follyhas been preserved by Horst in his _Zauberbibliothek_. It ran as follows, and was to be repeated slowly, with many ceremonies and wavings of thehand:

 "Lalle, Bachera, Magotte, Baphia, Dajam, Vagoth Heneche Ammi Nagaz, Adomator Raphael Immanuel Christus, Tetragrammaton Agra Jod Loi. König! König!"

The two last words were uttered quickly, and with a sort of scream, andwere supposed to be highly agreeable to Satan, who loved to be called aking. If he did not appear immediately, it was necessary to repeat afurther exorcism. The one in greatest repute was as follows, and was to beread backwards, with the exception of the last two words:

 "Anion, Lalle, Sabolos, Sado, Pater, Aziel Adonai Sado Vagoth Agra, Jod, Baphra! Komm! Komm!"

When the witch wanted to get rid of the devil, who was sometimes in thehabit of prolonging his visits to an unconscionable length, she had onlyto repeat the following, also backwards, when he generally disappeared, leaving behind him a suffocating smell:

 "Zellianelle Heotti Bonus Vagotha Plisos sother osech unicus Beelzebub Dax! Komm! Komm!"

This nonsensical jargon soon became known to all the idle and foolish boysof Germany. Many an unhappy urchin, who in a youthful frolic had repeatedit, paid for his folly the penalty of his life. Three, whose ages variedfrom ten to fifteen, were burned alive at Würzburg for no other offence. Of course every other boy in the city became still more convinced of thepower of the charm. One boy confessed that he would willingly have soldhimself to the devil, if he could have raised him, for a good dinner andcakes every day of his life, and a pony to ride upon. This luxuriousyoungster, instead of being horsewhipped for his folly, was hanged andburned. 

The small district of Lindheim was, if possible, even more notorious thanWürzburg for the number of its witch-burnings. In the year 1633 a famouswitch, named Pomp Anna, who could cause her foes to fall sick by merelylooking at them, was discovered and burned, along with three of hercompanions. Every year in this parish, consisting at most of a thousandpersons, the average number of executions was five. Between the years 1660and 1664, the number consumed was thirty. If the executions all overGermany had been in this frightful proportion, hardly a family could haveescaped losing one of its members. 

In 1627, a ballad entitled the _Druten Zeitung_, or the _Witches'Gazette_, was very popular in Germany. It detailed, according to thetitle-page of a copy printed at Smalcald in 1627, "An account of theremarkable events which took place in Franconia, Bamberg, and Würzburg, with those wretches who from avarice or ambition have sold themselves tothe devil, and how they had their reward at last: set to music, and to besung to the tune of Dorothea. " The sufferings of the witches at the stakeare explained in it with great minuteness, the poet waxing extremely wittywhen he describes the horrible contortions of pain upon theircountenances, and the shrieks that rent the air when any one of more thancommon guilt was burned alive. A trick resorted to in order to force onewitch to confess, is told in this doggrel as an excellent joke. As sheobstinately refused to own that she was in league with the powers of evil, the commissioners suggested that the hangman should dress himself in abear's skin, with the horns, tail, and all the et-ceteras, and in thisform penetrate into her dungeon. The woman, in the darkness of her cell, could not detect the imposture, aided as it was by her own superstitiousfears. She thought she was actually in the presence of the prince of hell;and when she was told to keep up her courage, and that she should berelieved from the power of her enemies, she fell on her knees before thesupposed devil, and swore to dedicate herself hereafter, body and soul, tohis service. Germany is, perhaps, the only country in Europe where thedelusion was so great as to have made such detestable verses as these thefavourites of the people:

 "Man shickt ein Henkersknecht Zu ihr in Gefängniss n'unter, Den man hat kleidet recht, Mit einer Bärnhaute, Als wenns der Teufel wär; Als ihm die Drut anschaute Meints ihr Buhl kam daher. 

 Sie sprach zu ihm behende, Wie lässt du mich so lang In der Obrigkeit Hände? Hilf mir aus ihren Zwang, Wie du mir hast verheissen, Ich bin ja eben dein, Thu mich aus der Angst entreissen O liebster Buhle mein!"[36]

 [36] They sent a hangman's assistant down to her in her prison; they clothed him properly in a bear's skin, as if he were the devil. Him, when the witch saw, she thought he was her familiar. She said to him quickly, "Why hast thou left me so long in the magistrate's hands? Help me out of their power, as thou hast promised, and I will be thine alone. Help me from this anguish, O thou dearest devil [or lover] mine!"

This rare poet adds, that in making such an appeal to the hangman, thewitch never imagined the roast that was to be made of her, and puts in, byway of parenthesis, "was not that fine fun!--_was das war für ein Spiel!_"As feathers thrown into the air shew how the wind blows, so this trumperyballad serves to shew the current of popular feeling at the time of itscomposition. 

All readers of history are familiar with the celebrated trial of theMaréchale d'Ancre, who was executed in Paris in the year 1617. Althoughwitchcraft was one of the accusations brought against her, the real crimefor which she suffered was her ascendency over the mind of Mary ofMedicis, and the consequent influence she exercised indirectly over theunworthy king, Louis XIII. Her coachman gave evidence that she hadsacrificed a cock at midnight in one of the churches, and others sworethey had seen her go secretly into the house of a noted witch namedIsabella. When asked by what means she had acquired so extraordinary aninfluence over the mind of the Queen Mother, she replied boldly that sheexercised no other power over her than that which a strong mind can alwaysexercise over the weak. She died with great firmness. 

In two years afterwards, scenes far more horrible than any that had yettaken place in France were enacted at Labourt, at the foot of thePyrenees. The parliament of Bourdeaux, scandalised at the number ofwitches who were said to infest Labourt and its neighbourhood, deputed oneof its own members, the noted Pierre de l'Ancre, and its president, Espaignel, to inquire into the matter, with full powers to punish theoffenders. They arrived at Labourt in May, 1619. De l'Ancre wrote a booksetting forth all his great deeds in this battle against the powers ofevil. It is full of obscenity and absurdity, but the facts may be reliedon as far as they relate to the number of trials and executions, and thestrange confessions which torture forced from the unhappy criminals. 

De l'Ancre states as a reason why so many witches were to be found atLabourt, that the country was mountainous and sterile! He discovered manyof them from their partiality to smoking tobacco. It may be inferred fromthis that he was of the opinion of King James, that tobacco was the"devil's weed. " When the commission first sat, the number of personsbrought to trial was about forty a day. The acquittals did not average somany as five per cent. All the witches confessed that they had beenpresent at the great Domdaniel, or Sabbath. At these saturnalia the devilsat upon a large gilded throne, sometimes in the form of a goat; sometimesas a gentleman, dressed all in black, with boots, spurs, and sword; andvery often as a shapeless mass, resembling the trunk of a blasted tree, seen indistinctly amid the darkness. They generally proceeded to theDomdaniel, riding on spits, pitchforks, or broomsticks, and on theirarrival indulged with the fiends in every species of debauchery. Upon oneoccasion they had had the audacity to celebrate this festival in the veryheart of the city of Bourdeaux. The throne of the arch fiend was placed inthe middle of the Place de Gallienne, and the whole space was covered withthe multitude of witches and wizards who flocked to it from far and near, some arriving even from distant Scotland. 

After two hundred poor wretches had been hanged and burned, there seemedno diminution in the number of criminals to be tried. Many of the latterwere asked upon the rack what Satan had said when he found that thecommissioners were proceeding with such severity? The general reply was, that he did not seem to care much about it. Some of them asserted thatthey had boldly reproached him for suffering the execution of theirfriends, saying, "_Out upon thee, false fiend! thy promise was that theyshould not die! Look, how thou hast kept thy word! They have been burned, and are a heap of ashes!_" Upon these occasions he was never offended: hewould give orders that the sports of the Domdaniel should cease, andproducing illusory fires that did not burn, he encouraged them to walkthrough, assuring them that the fires lighted by the executioner gave nomore pain than those. They would then ask him, where their friends were, since they had not suffered; to which the "Father of Lies" invariablyreplied, that they were happy in a far country, and could see and hear allthat was then passing; and that, if they called by name those they wishedto converse with, they might hear their voices in reply. Satan thenimitated the voices of the defunct witches so successfully that they wereall deceived. Having answered all objections, the orgies recommenced andlasted till the cock crew. 

De l'Ancre was also very zealous in the trial of unhappy monomaniacs forthe crime of lycanthropy. Several who were arrested confessed, withoutbeing tortured, that they were _weir-wolves_, and that at night theyrushed out among the flocks and herds killing and devouring. One young manat Besançon, with the full consciousness of the awful fate that awaitedhim, voluntarily gave himself up to the commissioner Espaignel, andconfessed that he was the servant of a strong fiend, who was known by thename of "Lord of the Forests:" by his power he was transformed into thelikeness of a wolf. The "Lord of the Forests" assumed the same shape; butwas much larger, fiercer, and stronger. They prowled about the pasturestogether at midnight, strangling the watch-dogs that defended the folds, and killing more sheep than they could devour. He felt, he said, a fiercepleasure in these excursions, and howled in excess of joy as he tore withhis fangs the warm flesh of the sheep asunder. This youth was not alone inthis horrid confession; many others voluntarily owned that they were_weir-wolves_, and many more were forced by torture to make the sameavowal. Such criminals were thought to be too atrocious to be hanged firstand then burned: they were generally sentenced to be burned alive, andtheir ashes to be scattered to the winds. Grave and learned doctors ofdivinity openly sustained the possibility of these transformations, relying mainly upon the history of Nebuchadnezzar. They could not imaginewhy, if he had been an ox, modern men could not become wolves by Divinepermission and the power of the devil. They also contended that, if menshould confess, it was evidence enough, if there had been no other. Delriomentions that one gentleman accused of lycanthropy was put to the tortureno less than twenty times; but still he would not confess. An intoxicatingdraught was then given him, and under its influence he confessed that hewas a _weir-wolf_. Delrio cites this to shew the extreme equity of thecommissioners. They never burned any body till he confessed; and if onecourse of torture would not suffice, their patience was not exhausted, andthey tried him again and again, even to the twentieth time! Well may weexclaim, when such atrocities have been committed in the name of religion, "Quel lion, quel tigre égale en cruauté, Une injuste fureur qu'arme la piété?"

The trial of the unhappy Urbain Grandier, the curate of Loudun, forbewitching a number of girls in the convent of the Ursulines in that town, was, like that of the Maréchale d'Ancre, an accusation resorted to by hisenemies to ruin one against whom no other charge could be brought soreadily. This noted affair, which kept France in commotion for months, andthe true character of which was known even at that time, merits no morethan a passing notice in this place. It did not spring from the epidemicdread of sorcery then so prevalent, but was carried on by wretchedintriguers, who had sworn to have the life of their foe. Such a chargecould not be refuted in 1634: the accused could not, as Bodinus expressesit, "make the malice of the prosecutors more clear than the sun;" and hisown denial, however intelligible, honest, and straightforward, was held asnothing in refutation of the testimony of the crazy women who imaginedthemselves bewitched. The more absurd and contradictory their assertions, the stronger the argument employed by his enemies that the devil was inthem. He was burned alive, under circumstances of great cruelty. [37]

 [37] A very graphic account of the execution of this unfortunate gentleman is to be found in the excellent romance of M. Alfred de Vigny, entitled _Cinq Mars_; but if the reader wishes for a full and accurate detail of all the circumstances of one of the most extraordinary trials upon record, he is referred to a work published anonymously, at Amsterdam, in 1693, entitled _Histoire des Diables de Loudun, ou de la Possession des Religieuses Ursulines, et de la Condemnation et du Supplice d'Urbain Grandier_. 

A singular instance of the epidemic fear of witchcraft occurred at Lille, in 1639. A pious but not very sane lady, named Antoinette Bourignon, founded a school, or _hospice_, in that city. One day, on entering theschoolroom, she imagined that she saw a great number of little blackangels flying about the heads of the children. In great alarm she told herpupils of what she had seen, warning them to beware of the devil whoseimps were hovering about them. The foolish woman continued daily to repeatthe same story, and Satan and his power became the only subject ofconversation, not only between the girls themselves, but between them andtheir instructors. One of them at this time ran away from the school. Onbeing brought back and interrogated, she said she had not run away, buthad been carried away by the devil; she was a witch, and had been onesince the age of seven. Some other little girls in the school went intofits at this announcement, and, on their recovery, confessed that theyalso were witches. At last the whole of them, to the number of fifty, worked upon each other's imaginations to such a degree that they alsoconfessed that they were witches--that they attended the Domdaniel, ormeeting of the fiends--that they could ride through the air onbroom-sticks, feast on infants' flesh, or creep through a key-hole. 

The citizens of Lille were astounded at these disclosures. The clergyhastened to investigate the matter; many of them, to their credit, openlyexpressed their opinion that the whole affair was an imposture--not so themajority; they strenuously insisted that the confessions of the childrenwere valid, and that it was necessary to make an example by burning themall for witches. The poor parents, alarmed for their offspring, imploredthe examining Capuchins with tears in their eyes to save their younglives, insisting that they were bewitched, and not bewitching. Thisopinion also gained ground in the town. Antoinette Bourignon, who had putthese absurd notions into the heads of the children, was accused ofwitchcraft, and examined before the council. The circumstances of the caseseemed so unfavourable towards her that she would not stay for a secondexamination. Disguising herself as she best could, she hastened out ofLille and escaped pursuit. If she had remained four hours longer, shewould have been burned by judicial sentence as a witch and a heretic. Itis to be hoped that, wherever she went, she learned the danger oftampering with youthful minds, and was never again entrusted with themanagement of children. 

The Duke of Brunswick and the Elector of Menz were struck with the greatcruelty exercised in the torture of suspected persons, and convinced, atthe same time, that no righteous judge would consider a confessionextorted by pain, and contradictory in itself, as sufficient evidence tojustify the execution of any accused person. It is related of the Duke ofBrunswick that he invited two learned Jesuits to his house, who were knownto entertain strong opinions upon the subject of witchcraft, with a viewof shewing them the cruelty and absurdity of such practices. A woman layin the dungeon of the city accused of witchcraft, and the duke, havinggiven previous instructions to the officiating torturers, went with thetwo Jesuits to hear her confession. By a series of artful leadingquestions the poor creature, in the extremity of her anguish, was inducedto confess that she had often attended the sabbath of the fiends upon theBrocken; that she had seen two Jesuits there, who had made themselvesnotorious, even among witches, for their abominations; that she had seenthem assume the form of goats, wolves, and other animals; and that manynoted witches had borne them five, six, and seven children at a birth, whohad heads like toads, and legs like spiders. Being asked if the Jesuitswere far from her, she replied that they were in the room beside her. TheDuke of Brunswick led his astounded friends away, and explained thestratagem. This was convincing proof to both of them that thousands ofpersons had suffered unjustly; they knew their own innocence, andshuddered to think what their fate might have been if an enemy instead ofa friend had put such a confession into the mouth of a criminal. One ofthese Jesuits was Frederick Spee, the author of the _Cautio Criminalis_, published in 1631. This work, exposing the horrors of the witch-trials, had a most salutary effect in Germany: Schonbrunn, Archbishop and Electorof Menz, abolished the torture entirely within his dominions, and hisexample was imitated by the Duke of Brunswick and other potentates. Thenumber of supposed witches immediately diminished, and the violence of themania began to subside. The Elector of Brandenburg issued a rescript, in1654, with respect to the case of Anna of Ellerbrock, a supposed witch, forbidding the use of torture, and stigmatising the swimming of witches asan unjust, cruel, and deceitful test. 

This was the beginning of the dawn after the long-protracted darkness. Thetribunals no longer condemned witches to execution by hundreds in a year. Würzburg, the grand theatre of the burnings, burned but one where, fortyyears previously, it had burned three score. From 1660 to 1670 theelectoral chambers, in all parts of Germany, constantly commuted thesentence of death passed by the provincial tribunals into imprisonment forlife, or burning on the cheek. 

[Illustration: ROUEN. ]

A truer philosophy had gradually disabused the public mind. Learned menfreed themselves from the trammels of a debasing superstition, andgovernments, both civil and ecclesiastical, repressed the popular delusionthey had so long encouraged. The parliament of Normandy condemned a numberof women to death, in the year 1670, on the old charge of riding onbroomsticks to the Domdaniel; but Louis XIV. Commuted the sentence intobanishment for life. The parliament remonstrated, and sent the king thefollowing remarkable request. The reader will perhaps be glad to see thisdocument at length. It is of importance, as the last effort of alegislative assembly to uphold this great error; and the arguments theyused and the instances they quoted are in the highest degree curious. Itreflects honour upon the memory of Louis XIV. That he was not swayed byit. 

"REQUEST OF THE PARLIAMENT OF ROUEN TO THE KING, IN 1670. 

"SIRE, --Emboldened by the authority which your majesty has committed intoour hands in the province of Normandy, to try and punish offences, andmore particularly those offences of the nature of witchcraft, which tendto the destruction of religion and the ruin of nations, we, yourparliament, remonstrate humbly with your majesty upon certain cases ofthis kind which have been lately brought before us. We cannot permit theletter addressed by your majesty's command to the attorney-general of thisdistrict, for the reprieve of certain persons condemned to death forwitchcraft, and for the staying of proceedings in several other cases, toremain unnoticed, and without remarking upon the consequences which mayensue. There is also a letter from your secretary of state, declaring yourmajesty's intention to commute the punishment of these criminals into oneof perpetual banishment, and to submit to the opinion of theprocureur-general, and of the most learned members of the parliament ofParis, whether, in the matter of witchcraft, the jurisprudence of theparliament of Rouen is to be followed in preference to that of theparliament of Paris, and of the other parliaments of the kingdom whichjudge differently. 

"Although by the ordinances of the kings your predecessors, parliamentshave been forbidden to pay any attention to _lettres de cachet_; we, nevertheless, from the knowledge which we have, in common with the wholekingdom, of the care bestowed by your majesty for the good of yoursubjects, and from the submission and obedience to your commandments whichwe have always manifested, have stayed all proceedings, in conformity toyour orders; hoping that your majesty, considering the importance of thecrime of witchcraft, and the consequences likely to ensue from itsimpunity, will be graciously pleased to grant us once more your permissionto continue the trials, and execute judgment upon those found guilty. Andas, since we received the letter of your secretary of state, we have alsobeen made acquainted with the determination of your majesty, not only tocommute the sentence of death passed upon these witches into one ofperpetual banishment from the province, but to re-establish them in thepossession of their goods and chattels, and of their good fame andcharacter, your parliament have thought it their duty, on occasion ofthese crimes, the greatest which men can commit, to make you acquaintedwith the general and uniform feelings of the people of this province withregard to them; it being, moreover, a question in which are concerned theglory of God and the relief of your suffering subjects, who groan undertheir fears from the threats and menaces of this sort of persons, and whofeel the effects of them every day in the mortal and extraordinarymaladies which attack them, and the surprising damage and loss of theirpossessions. 

"Your majesty knows well that there is no crime so opposed to the commandsof God as witchcraft, which destroys the very foundation of religion, anddraws strange abominations after it. It is for this reason, sire, that theScriptures pronounce the punishment of death against offenders, and thatthe Church and the holy fathers have fulminated their anathemas, and thatcanonical decisions have one and all decreed the most severe punishments, to deter from this crime; and that the Church of France, animated by thepiety of the kings your predecessors, has expressed so great a horror atit, that, not judging the punishment of perpetual imprisonment, thehighest it has the power to inflict, sufficiently severe, it has left suchcriminals to be dealt with by the secular power. 

"It has been the general feeling of all nations that such criminals oughtto be condemned to death, and all the ancients were of the same opinion. The law of the 'Twelve Tables, ' which was the principal of the Roman laws, ordains the same punishment. All juris-consults agreed in it, as well asthe constitutions of the emperors, and more especially those ofConstantine and Theodosius, who, enlightened by the Gospel, not onlyrenewed the same punishment, but also deprived, expressly, all personsfound guilty of witchcraft of the right of appeal, and declared them to beunworthy of a prince's mercy. And Charles VIII. , sire, inspired by thesame sentiments, passed that beautiful and severe ordinance (_cette belleet sévère ordonnance_), which enjoined the judges to punish witchesaccording to the exigencies of the case, under a penalty of beingthemselves fined or imprisoned, or dismissed from their office; anddecreed, at the same time, that all persons who refused to denounce awitch, should be punished as accomplices; and that all, on the contrary, who gave evidence against one should be rewarded. 

"From these considerations, sire, and in the execution of so holy anordinance, your parliaments, by their decrees, proportion theirpunishments to the guilt of the offenders; and your parliament of Normandyhas never, until the present time, found that its practice was differentfrom that of other courts; for all the books which treat upon this mattercite an infinite number of decrees condemning witches to be burnt, orbroken on the wheel, or to other punishments. The following areexamples:--In the time of Chilperic, as may be seen in Gregory of Tours, b. Vi. C. 35 of his _History of France_; all the decrees of the parliamentof Paris passed according to, and in conformity with, this ancientjurisprudence of the kingdom, cited by Imbert, in his _Judicial Practice_;all those cited by Monstrelet, in 1459, against the witches of Artois; thedecrees of the same parliament, of the 13th of October 1573, against MaryLe Fief, native of Saumur; of the 21st of October 1596, against the Sieurde Beaumont, who pleaded, in his defence, that he had only sought the aidof the devil for the purpose of unbewitching the afflicted and of curingdiseases; of the 4th of July 1606, against Francis du Bose; of the 20th ofJuly 1582, against Abel de la Rue, native of Coulommiers; of the 2d ofOctober 1593, against Rousseau and his daughter; of 1608, against anotherRousseau and one Peley, for witchcraft and adoration of the devil at theSabbath, under the figure of a he-goat, as confessed by them; the decreeof 4th of February 1615, against Leclerc, who appealed from the sentenceof the parliament of Orleans, and who was condemned for having attendedthe Sabbath, and confessed, as well as two of his accomplices, who died inprison, that he had adored the devil, renounced his baptism and his faithin God, danced the witches' dance, and offered up unholy sacrifices; thedecrees of the 6th of May 1616, against a man named Leger, on a similaraccusation; the pardon granted by Charles IX. To Trois Echelles, uponcondition of revealing his accomplices, but afterwards revoked for renewedsorcery on his part; the decree of the parliament of Paris, cited byMornac in 1595; the judgments passed in consequence of the commissiongiven by Henry IV. To the Sieur de l'Ancre, councillor of the parliamentof Bourdeaux; of the 20th of March 1619, against Etienne Audibert; thosepassed by the chamber of Nerac, on the 26th of June 1620, against severalwitches; those passed by the parliament of Toulouse in 1577, as cited byGregory Tolosanus, against four hundred persons accused of this crime, andwho were all marked with the sign of the devil. Besides all these, wemight recal to your majesty's recollection the various decrees of theparliament of Provence, especially in the case of Gaufrédy in 1611; thedecrees of the parliament of Dijon, and those of the parliament of Rennes, following the example of the condemnation of the Marshal de Rays, who wasburned in 1441, for the crime of witchcraft, in presence of the Duke ofBrittany;--all these examples, sire, prove that the accusation ofwitchcraft has always been punished with death by the parliaments of yourkingdom, and justify the uniformity of their practice. 

"These, sire, are the motives upon which your parliament of Normandy hasacted in decreeing the punishment of death against the persons latelybrought before it for this crime. If it has happened that, on anyoccasion, these parliaments, and the parliament of Normandy among therest, have condemned the guilty to a less punishment than that of death, it was for the reason that their guilt was not of the deepest dye; yourmajesty, and the kings your predecessors, having left full liberty to thevarious tribunals to whom they delegated the administration of justice, todecree such punishment as was warranted by the evidence brought beforethem. 

"After so many authorities, and punishments ordained by human and divinelaws, we humbly supplicate your majesty to reflect once more upon theextraordinary results which proceed from the malevolence of this sort ofpeople; on the deaths from unknown diseases, which are often theconsequences of their menaces, on the loss of the goods and chattels ofyour subjects, on the proofs of guilt continually afforded by theinsensibility of the marks upon the accused, on the sudden transportationof bodies from one place to another, on the sacrifices and nocturnalassemblies, and other facts, corroborated by the testimony of ancient andmodern authors, and verified by so many eye-witnesses, composed partly ofaccomplices, and partly of people who had no interest in the trials beyondthe love of truth, and confirmed, moreover, by the confessions of theaccused parties themselves; and that, sire, with so much agreement andconformity between the different cases, that the most ignorant personsconvicted of this crime have spoken to the same circumstances, and innearly the same words, as the most celebrated authors who have writtenabout it, all of which may be easily proved to your majesty's satisfactionby the records of various trials before your parliaments. 

"These, sire, are truths so intimately bound up with the principles of ourreligion, that, extraordinary although they be, no person has been able tothis time to call them in question. If some have cited, in opposition tothese truths, the pretended canon of the Council of Ancyre, and a passagefrom St. Augustin, in a treatise upon the _Spirit and the Soul_, it hasbeen without foundation; and it would be easy to convince your majestythat neither the one nor the other ought to be accounted of any authority;and, besides that, the canon, in this sense, would be contrary to theopinion of all succeeding councils of the Church, Cardinal Baronius, andall learned commentators agree that it is not to be found in any oldedition. In effect, in those editions wherein it is found, it is inanother language, and is in direct contradiction to the twenty-third canonof the same council, which condemns sorcery, according to all precedingconstitutions. Even supposing that this canon was really promulgated bythe Council of Ancyre, we must observe that it was issued in the secondcentury, when the principal attention of the Church was directed to thedestruction of paganism. For this reason, it condemns that class of womenwho said they could pass through the air, and over immense regions, withDiana and Herodias, and enjoins all preachers to teach the falsehood ofsuch an opinion, in order to deter people from the worship of these falsedivinities; but it does not question the power of the devil over the humanbody, which is, in fact, proved by the holy Gospel of Jesus Christhimself. And with regard, sire, to the pretended passage of St. Augustin, everybody knows that it was not written by him, because the writer, whoever he was, cites Boetius, who died more than eighty years after thetime of St. Augustin. Besides, there is still more convincing proof in thefact, that the same father establishes the truth of witchcraft in all hiswritings, and more particularly in his _City of God_; and in his firstvolume, question the 25th, wherein he states that sorcery is a communionbetween man and the devil, which all good Christians ought to look uponwith horror. 

"Taking all these things into consideration, sire, the officers of yourparliament hope, from the justice of your majesty, that you will begraciously pleased to receive the humble remonstrances they have taken theliberty to make. They are compelled, for the acquittal of their ownconsciences and in discharge of their duty, to make known to your majesty, that the decrees they passed against the sorcerers and witches broughtbefore them, were passed after a mature deliberation on the part of allthe judges present, and that nothing has been done therein which is notconformable to the universal jurisprudence of the kingdom, and for thegeneral welfare of your majesty's subjects, of whom there is not one whocan say that he is secure from the malevolence of such criminals. Wetherefore supplicate your majesty to suffer us to carry into effect thesentences we passed, and to proceed with the trial of the other personsaccused of the same crime; and that the piety of your majesty will notsuffer to be introduced during your reign an opinion contrary to theprinciples of that holy religion for which you have always employed sogloriously both your cares and your arms. "

Louis, as we have already mentioned, paid no attention to this appeal. Thelives of the old women were spared, and prosecutions for mere witchcraft, unconnected with other offences, were discontinued throughout France. In1680 an act was passed for the punishment, not of witches, but ofpretenders to witchcraft, fortune-tellers, divineresses, and poisoners. 

Thus the light broke in upon Germany, France, England, and Scotland aboutthe same time, gradually growing clearer and clearer till the middle ofthe eighteenth century, when witchcraft was finally reckoned amongstexploded doctrines, and the belief in it confined to the uttermost vulgar. Twice, however, did the madness burst forth again as furious, while itlasted, as ever it had been. The first time in Sweden, in 1669, and thesecond in Germany so late as 1749. Both these instances merit particularmention. The first is one of the most extraordinary upon record, and foratrocity and absurdity is unsurpassed in the annals of any nation. 

It having been reported to the king of Sweden that the little village ofMohra, in the province of Dalecarlia, was troubled exceedingly withwitches, he appointed a commission of clergy and laymen to trace therumour to its source, with full powers to punish the guilty. On the 12thof August 1669, the commissioners arrived in the bewitched village, to thegreat joy of the credulous inhabitants. On the following day the wholepopulation, amounting to three thousand persons, assembled in the church. A sermon was preached, "declaring the miserable case of those people thatsuffered themselves to be deluded by the devil, " and fervent prayer wasoffered up that God would remove the scourge from among them. 

[Illustration: LOUIS XIV. ]

The whole assembly then adjourned to the rector's house, filling all thestreet before it, when the king's commission was read, charging everyperson who knew any thing of the witchery, to come forward and declare thetruth. A passion of tears seized upon the multitude; men, women, andchildren began to weep and sob, and all promised to divulge what they hadheard or knew. In this frame of mind they were dismissed to their homes. On the following day they were again called together, when the depositionsof several persons were taken publicly before them all. The result wasthat seventy persons, including fifteen children, were taken into custody. Numbers also were arrested in the neighbouring district of Elfdale. Beingput to the torture, they all confessed their guilt. They said they used togo to a gravel-pit, that lay hard by the cross-way, where they put a vestupon their heads, and danced "round and round and round about. " They thenwent to the cross-way, and called three times upon the devil; the firsttime in a low still voice; the second, somewhat louder; and the third, very loudly, with these words, "Antecessor, come, and carry us toBlockula!" This invocation never failed to bring him to their view. Hegenerally appeared as a little old man, in a grey coat, with red and bluestockings, with exceedingly long garters. He had besides a veryhigh-crowned hat, with bands of many-coloured linen enfolded about it, anda long red beard that hung down to his middle. 

The first question he put to them was, whether they would serve him souland body? On their answering in the affirmative, he told them to makeready for the journey to Blockula. It was necessary to procure, in thefirst place, "some scrapings of altars and filings of church clocks. "Antecessor then gave them a horn with some salve in it, wherewith theyanointed themselves. These preparations ended, he brought beasts for themto ride upon, --horses, asses, goats, and monkeys; and giving them asaddle, a hammer, and a nail, uttered the word of command, and away theywent. Nothing stopped them. They flew over churches, high walls, rocks, and mountains, until they came to the green meadow where Blockula wassituated. Upon these occasions they carried as many children with them asthey could; for the devil, they said, "did plague and whip them if theydid not procure him children, insomuch that they had no peace or quiet forhim. "

Many parents corroborated a part of this evidence, stating that theirchildren had repeatedly told them that they had been carried away in thenight to Blockula, where the devil had beaten them black and blue. Theyhad seen the marks in the morning, but they soon disappeared. One littlegirl was examined, who swore positively that she was carried through theair by the witches, and when at a great height she uttered the holy nameof Jesus. She immediately fell to the ground, and made a great hole in herside. "The devil, however, picked her up, healed her side, and carried heraway to Blockula. " She added (and her mother confirmed her statement), that she had till that day "an exceeding great pain in her side. " This wasa clencher, and the nail of conviction was driven home to the hearts ofthe judges. 

The place called Blockula, whither they were carried, was a large house, with a gate to it, "in a delicate meadow, whereof they could see no end. "There was a very long table in it, at which the witches sat down; and inother rooms "there were very lovely and delicate beds for them to sleepupon. "

After a number of ceremonies had been performed, by which they boundthemselves body and soul to the service of Antecessor, they sat down to afeast composed of broth, made of colworts and bacon, oatmeal, bread andbutter, milk and cheese. The devil always took the chair, and sometimesplayed to them on the harp or the fiddle while they were eating. Afterdinner they danced in a ring, sometimes naked, and sometimes in theirclothes, cursing and swearing all the time. Some of the women addedparticulars too horrible and too obscene for repetition. 

Once the devil pretended to be dead, that he might see whether his peopleregretted him. They instantly set up a loud wail, and wept three tearseach for him; at which he was so pleased, that he jumped up among them, and hugged in his arms those who had been most obstreperous in theirsorrow. 

Such were the principal details given by the children, and corroborated bythe confessions of the full-grown witches. Any thing more absurd was neverbefore stated in a court of justice. Many of the accused contradictedthemselves most palpably; but the commissioners gave no heed todiscrepancies. One of them, the parson of the district, stated in thecourse of the inquiry, that on a particular night, which he mentioned, hehad been afflicted with a headache so agonising, that he could not accountfor it otherwise than by supposing he was bewitched. In fact, he thought ascore of witches must have been dancing on the crown of his head. Thisannouncement excited great horror among the pious dames of the auditory, who loudly expressed their wonder that the devil should have power to hurtso good a man. One poor witch, who lay in the very jaws of death, confessed that she knew too well the cause of the minister's headache. Thedevil had sent her with a sledge hammer and a large nail to drive into thegood man's skull. She had hammered at it for some time, but the skull wasso enormously _thick_, that she made no impression upon it. Every hand washeld up in astonishment. The pious minister blessed God that his skull wasso solid, and he became renowned for his thick head all the days of hislife. Whether the witch intended a joke does not appear, but she waslooked upon as a criminal more than usually atrocious. Seventy personswere condemned to death on these so awful, yet so ridiculous confessions. Twenty-three of them were burned together in one fire in the village ofMohra, in the presence of thousands of delighted spectators. On thefollowing day fifteen children were murdered in the same manner, offeredup in sacrifice to the bloody Moloch of superstition. The remainingthirty-two were executed at the neighbouring town of Fahluna. Besidesthese, fifty-six children were found guilty of witchcraft in a minordegree, and sentenced to various punishments, such as running thegauntlet, imprisonment, and public whipping once a week for a twelvemonth. 

Long after the occurrence of this case, it was cited as one of the mostconvincing proofs upon record of the prevalence of witchcraft. When menwish to construct or support a theory, how they torture facts into theirservice! The lying whimsies of a few sick children, encouraged by foolishparents, and drawn out by superstitious neighbours, were sufficient to seta country in a flame. If, instead of commissioners as deeply sunk in theslough of ignorance as the people they were sent amongst, there had beendeputed a few men firm in courage and clear in understanding, howdifferent would have been the result! Some of the poor children who wereburned would have been sent to an infirmary; others would have been wellflogged; the credulity of the parents would have been laughed at; and thelives of seventy persons spared. The belief in witchcraft remains inSweden to this day; but happily the annals of that country present no moresuch instances of lamentable aberration of intellect as the one justcited. 

In New England, about the same time, the colonists were scared by similarstories of the antics of the devil. All at once a fear seized upon themultitude, and supposed criminals were arrested day after day in suchnumbers, that the prisons were found too small to contain them. A girlnamed Goodwin, the daughter of a mason, who was hypochondriac and subjectto fits, imagined that an old Irish woman, named Glover, had bewitchedher. Her two brothers, in whose constitutions there was apparently apredisposition to similar fits, went off in the same way, crying out thatthe devil and Dame Glover were tormenting them. At times their joints wereso stiff that they could not be moved; while at others, said theneighbours, they were so flexible, that the bones appeared softened intosinews. The supposed witch was seized, and as she could not repeat theLord's Prayer without making a mistake in it, she was condemned andexecuted. 

But the popular excitement was not allayed. One victim was not enough; thepeople waited agape for new disclosures. Suddenly two hysteric girls inanother family fell into fits daily, and the cry of witchcraft resoundedfrom one end of the colony to the other. The feeling of suffocation in thethroat, so common in cases of hysteria, was said by the patients to becaused by the devil himself, who had stuck balls in the windpipe to chokethem. They felt the pricking of thorns in every part of the body, and oneof them vomited needles. The case of these girls, who were the daughterand niece of a Mr. Parvis, the minister of a Calvinist chapel, excited somuch attention, that all the weak women in the colony began to fancythemselves similarly afflicted. The more they brooded on it, the moreconvinced they became. The contagion of this mental disease was as greatas if it had been a pestilence. One after the other the women faintedaway, asserting on their recovery that they had seen the spectres ofwitches. Where there were three or four girls in a family, they so workedeach upon the diseased imagination of the other, that they fell into fitsfive or six times in a day. Some related that the devil himself appearedto them, bearing in his hand a parchment-roll, and promising that if theywould sign an agreement, transferring to him their immortal souls, theyshould be immediately relieved from fits and all the ills of the flesh. Others asserted that they saw witches only, who made them similarpromises, threatening that they should never be free from aches and painstill they had agreed to become the devil's. When they refused, the witchespinched, or bit, or pricked them with long pins and needles. More than twohundred persons named by these mischievous visionaries were thrown intoprison. They were of all ages and conditions of life, and many of them ofexemplary character. No less than nineteen were condemned and executedbefore reason returned to the minds of the colonists. The most horriblepart of this lamentable history is, that among the victims there was alittle child only five years old. Some women swore that they had seen itrepeatedly in company with the devil, and that it had bitten them oftenwith its little teeth for refusing to sign a compact with the evil one. Itcan hardly increase our feelings of disgust and abhorrence when we learnthat this insane community actually tried and executed a dog for the sameoffence!

One man, named Cory, stoutly refused to plead to the preposterousindictment against him. As was the practice in such cases, he was pressedto death. It is told of the Sheriff of New England, who superintended theexecution, that when this unhappy man thrust out his tongue in his mortalagony, he seized hold of a cane, and crammed it back again into the mouth. If ever there were a fiend in human form, it was this sheriff: a man who, if the truth were known, perhaps plumed himself upon his piety--thought hewas doing God good service, and

 "Hoped to merit heaven by making earth a hell!"

Arguing still in the firm belief of witchcraft, the bereaved people beganto inquire, when they saw their dearest friends snatched away from them bythese wide-spreading accusations, whether the whole proceedings were notcarried on by the agency of the devil. Might not the great enemy have putfalse testimony into the mouths of the witnesses, or might not thewitnesses be witches themselves? Every man who was in danger of losing hiswife, his child, or his sister, embraced this doctrine with avidity. Therevulsion was as sudden as the first frenzy. All at once, the colonistswere convinced of their error. The judges put a stop to the prosecutions, even of those who had confessed their guilt. The latter were no sooner atliberty than they retracted all they had said, and the greater numberhardly remembered the avowals which agony had extorted from them. Eightpersons, who had been tried and condemned, were set free; and graduallygirls ceased to have fits and to talk of the persecutions of the devil. The judge who had condemned the first criminal executed on this charge, was so smitten with sorrow and humiliation at his folly, that he set apartthe anniversary of that day as one of solemn penitence and fasting. Hestill clung to the belief in witchcraft; no new light had broken in uponhim on that subject, but, happily for the community, the delusion hadtaken a merciful turn. The whole colony shared the feeling; the jurors onthe different trials openly expressed their penitence in the churches; andthose who had suffered were regarded as the victims, and not as theaccomplices of Satan. 

It is related that the Indian tribes in New England were sorely puzzled atthe infatuation of the settlers, and thought them either a race inferiorto, or more sinful than the French colonists in the vicinity, amongstwhom, as they remarked, "the Great Spirit sent no witches. "

Returning again to the continent of Europe, we find that, after the year1680, men became still wiser upon this subject. For twenty years thepopulace were left to their belief, but governments in general gave it noaliment in the shape of executions. The edict of Louis XIV. Gave a blow tothe superstition, from which it never recovered. The last execution in theProtestant cantons of Switzerland was at Geneva, in 1652. The variouspotentates of Germany, although they could not stay the trials, invariablycommuted the sentence into imprisonment, in all cases where the pretendedwitch was accused of pure witchcraft, unconnected with any other crime. Inthe year 1701, Thomasius, the learned professor at the University ofHalle, delivered his inaugural thesis, _De Crimine Magiæ_ which struckanother blow at the falling monster of popular error. But a faith sostrong as that in witchcraft was not to be eradicated at once: thearguments of learned men did not penetrate to the villages and hamlets;but still they achieved great things; they rendered the belief anunworking faith, and prevented the supply of victims, on which for so manyages it had battened and grown strong. 

Once more the delusion broke out; like a wild beast wounded to the death, it collected all its remaining energies for the final convulsion, whichwas to shew how mighty it had once been. Germany, which had nursed thefrightful error in its cradle, tended it on its death-bed, and Würzburg, the scene of so many murders on the same pretext, was destined to be thescene of the last. That it might lose no portion of its bad renown, thelast murder was as atrocious as the first. This case offers a greatresemblance to that of the witches of Mohra and New England, except in thenumber of its victims. It happened so late as the year 1749, to theastonishment and disgust of the rest of Europe. 

[Illustration: VIEW IN WÜRZBURG. ]

A number of young women in a convent at Würzburg fancied themselvesbewitched; they felt, like all hysteric subjects, a sense of suffocationin the throat. They went into fits repeatedly; and one of them, who hadswallowed needles, evacuated them at abscesses, which formed in differentparts of the body. The cry of sorcery was raised, and a young woman, namedMaria Renata Sänger, was arrested on the charge of having leagued with thedevil, to bewitch five of the young ladies. It was sworn on the trial thatMaria had been frequently seen to clamber over the convent walls in theshape of a pig--that, proceeding to the cellar, she used to drink the bestwine till she was intoxicated; and then start suddenly up in her own form. Other girls asserted that she used to prowl about the roof like a cat, andoften penetrate into their chamber, and frighten them by her dreadfulhowlings. It was also said that she had been seen in the shape of a hare, milking the cows dry in the meadows belonging to the convent; that sheused to perform as an actress on the boards of Drury Lane theatre inLondon, and, on the very same night, return upon a broomstick to Würzburg, and afflict the young ladies with pains in all their limbs. Upon thisevidence she was condemned, and burned alive in the market-place ofWürzburg. 

Here ends this frightful catalogue of murder and superstition. Since thatday, the belief in witchcraft has fled from the populous abodes of men, and taken refuge in remote villages and districts too wild, rugged, andinhospitable to afford a resting-place for the foot of civilisation. Rudefishers and uneducated labourers still attribute every phenomenon ofnature which they cannot account for, to the devil and witches. Catalepsy, that wondrous disease, is still thought by ignorant gossips to be the workof Satan; and hypochondriacs, uninformed by science of the nature of theirmalady, devoutly believe in the reality of their visions. The reader wouldhardly credit the extent of the delusion upon this subject in the veryheart of England at this day. Many an old woman leads a life of miseryfrom the unfeeling insults of her neighbours, who raise the scornfulfinger and hooting voice at her, because in her decrepitude she is ugly, spiteful, perhaps insane, and realises in her personal appearance thedescription preserved by tradition of the witches of yore. Even in theneighbourhood of great towns the taint remains of this once widely-spreadcontagion. If no victims fall beneath it, the enlightenment of the law isall that prevents a recurrence of scenes as horrid as those of theseventeenth century. Hundreds upon hundreds of witnesses could be found toswear to absurdities as great as those asserted by the infamous MatthewHopkins. 

In the _Annual Register_ for 1760, an instance of the belief in witchcraftis related, which shews how superstition lingers. A dispute arose in thelittle village of Glen, in Leicestershire, between two old women, each ofwhom vehemently accused the other of witchcraft. The quarrel at last ranso high that a challenge ensued, and they both agreed to be tried by theordeal of swimming. They accordingly stripped to their shifts--procuredsome men, who tied their thumbs and great toes together, cross-wise, andthen, with a cart-rope about their middle, suffered themselves to bethrown into a pool of water. One of them sank immediately, but the othercontinued struggling a short time upon the surface of the water, which themob deeming an infallible sign of her guilt, pulled her out, and insistedthat she should immediately impeach all her accomplices in the craft. Sheaccordingly told them that, in the neighbouring village of Burton, therewere several old women as "much witches as she was. " Happily for her, thisnegative information was deemed sufficient, and a student in astrology, or"white-witch, " coming up at the time, the mob, by his direction, proceededforthwith to Burton in search of all the delinquents. After a littleconsultation on their arrival, they went to the old woman's house on whomthey had fixed the strongest suspicion. The poor old creature on theirapproach locked the outer door, and from the window of an upstairs roomasked what they wanted. They informed her that she was charged with beingguilty of witchcraft, and that they were come to duck her; remonstratingwith her at the same time upon the necessity of submission to the ordeal, that, if she were innocent, all the world might know it. Upon herpersisting in a positive refusal to come down, they broke open the doorand carried her out by force, to a deep gravel-pit full of water. Theytied her thumbs and toes together and threw her into the water, where theykept her for several minutes, drawing her out and in two or three times bythe rope round her middle. Not being able to satisfy themselves whethershe were a witch or no, they at last let her go, or, more properlyspeaking, they left her on the bank to walk home by herself, if she everrecovered. Next day, they tried the same experiment upon another woman, and afterwards upon a third; but, fortunately, neither of the victims losther life from this brutality. Many of the ringleaders in the outrage wereapprehended during the week, and tried before the justices atquarter-sessions. Two of them were sentenced to stand in the pillory andto be imprisoned for a month; and as many as twenty more were fined insmall sums for the assault, and bound over to keep the peace for atwelvemonth. 

"So late as the year 1785, " says Arnot, in his collection and abridgmentof _Criminal Trials in Scotland_, "it was the custom among the sect ofSeceders to read from the pulpit an annual confession of sins, nationaland personal; amongst the former of which was particularly mentioned the'Repeal by parliament of the penal statute against witches, contrary tothe express laws of God. '"

[Illustration: LADY HATTON'S HOUSE, CROSS STREET, HATTON GARDEN. ]

Many houses are still to be found in England with the horse-shoe (thegrand preservative against witchcraft) nailed against the threshold. Ifany over-wise philosopher should attempt to remove them, the chances arethat he would have more broken bones than thanks for his interference. Letany man walk into Cross Street, Hatton Garden, and from thence intoBleeding-heart Yard, and learn the tales still told and believed of onehouse in that neighbourhood, and he will ask himself in astonishment ifsuch things can be in the nineteenth century. The witchcraft of LadyHatton, the wife of the famous Sir Christopher, so renowned for hiselegant dancing in the days of Elizabeth, is as devoutly believed as theGospels. The room is to be seen where the devil seized her after theexpiration of the contract he had made with her, and bore her away bodilyto the pit of Tophet: the pump against which he dashed her is stillpointed out, and the spot where her heart was found, after he had torn itout of her bosom with his iron claws, has received the name ofBleeding-heart Yard, in confirmation of the story. Whether the horse-shoestill remains upon the door of the haunted house, to keep away otherwitches, is uncertain. A former inmate relates that, "about twenty yearsago, more than one old woman begged for admittance repeatedly, to satisfythemselves that it was in its proper place. One poor creature, apparentlyinsane, and clothed in rags, came to the door with a tremendousdouble-knock, as loud as that of a fashionable footman, and walkedstraight along the passage to the horse-shoe. Great was the wonderment ofthe inmates, especially when the woman spat upon the horse-shoe, andexpressed her sorrow that she could do no harm while it remained there. After spitting upon, and kicking it again and again, she coolly turnedround and left the house, without saying a word to any body. This poorcreature perhaps intended a joke, but the probability is that she imaginedherself a witch. In Saffron Hill, where she resided, her ignorantneighbours gave her that character, and looked upon her with no littlefear and aversion. "

More than one example of the popular belief in witchcraft occurred in theneighbourhood of Hastings so lately as the year 1830. An aged woman, whoresided in the Rope-walk of that town, was so repulsive in her appearance, that she was invariably accused of being a witch by all the ignorantpeople who knew her. She was bent completely double; and though very old, her eye was unusually bright and malignant. She wore a red cloak, andsupported herself on a crutch: she was, to all outward appearance, thevery _beau ideal_ of a witch. So dear is power to the human heart, thatthis old woman actually encouraged the popular superstition; she took nopains to remove the ill impression, but seemed to delight that she, oldand miserable as she was, could keep in awe so many happier and strongerfellow-creatures. Timid girls crouched with fear when they met her, andmany would go a mile out of their way to avoid her. Like the witches ofthe olden time, she was not sparing of her curses against those whooffended her. The child of a woman who resided within two doors of her wasafflicted with lameness, and the mother constantly asserted that the oldwoman had bewitched her. All the neighbours credited the tale. It wasbelieved, too, that she could assume the form of a cat. Many a harmlesspuss has been hunted almost to the death by mobs of men and boys, upon thesupposition that the animal would start up before them in the true shapeof Mother ----. 

In the same town there resided a fisherman, who was the object ofunceasing persecution, because it was said that he had sold himself to thedevil. It was currently reported that he could creep through a keyhole, and that he had made a witch of his daughter, in order that he might havethe more power over his fellows. It was also believed that he could sit onthe points of pins and needles and feel no pain. His brother fishermen puthim to this test whenever they had an opportunity. In the alehouses whichhe frequented, they often placed long needles in the cushions of thechairs in such a manner that he could not fail to pierce himself when hesat down. The result of these experiments tended to confirm their faith inhis supernatural powers. It was asserted that he never flinched. Such wasthe popular feeling in the fashionable town of Hastings a few years ago;very probably it is the same now. 

In the north of England, the superstition lingers to an almostinconceivable extent. Lancashire abounds with witch-doctors, a set ofquacks who pretend to cure diseases inflicted by the devil. The practicesof these worthies may be judged of by the following case, reported in the_Hertford Reformer_ of the 23d of June 1838. The witch-doctor alluded tois better known by the name of the _cunning man_, and has a large practicein the counties of Lincoln and Nottingham. According to the writer in the_Reformer_, the dupe, whose name is not mentioned, had been for about twoyears afflicted with a painful abscess, and had been prescribed forwithout relief by more than one medical gentleman. He was urged by some ofhis friends, not only in his own village but in neighbouring ones, toconsult the witch-doctor, as they were convinced he was under some evilinfluence. He agreed, and sent his wife to the _cunning man_, who lived inNew St. Swithin's, in Lincoln. She was informed by this ignorant impostorthat her husband's disorder was an infliction of the devil, occasioned byhis next-door neighbours, who had made use of certain charms for thatpurpose. From the description he gave of the process, it appears to be thesame as that employed by Dr. Fian and Gellie Duncan to work woe upon KingJames. He stated that the neighbours, instigated by a witch, whom hepointed out, took some wax and moulded it before the fire into the form ofher husband, as near as they could represent him; they then pierced theimage with pins on all sides, repeated the Lord's Prayer backwards, andoffered prayers to the devil that he would fix his stings into the personwhom that figure represented, in like manner as they pierced _it_ withpins. To counteract the effects of this diabolical process, thewitch-doctor prescribed a certain medicine, and a charm to be worn nextthe body, on that part where the disease principally lay. The patient wasto repeat the 109th and 119th Psalms every day, or the cure would not beeffectual. The fee which he claimed for this advice was a guinea. 

So efficacious is faith in the cure of any malady, that the patientactually felt much better after a three weeks' course of thisprescription. The notable charm which the quack had given was afterwardsopened, and found to be a piece of parchment covered with some cabalisticcharacters and signs of the planets. 

The next-door neighbours were in great alarm that the witch-doctor would, on the solicitation of the recovering patient, employ some means to punishthem for their pretended witchcraft. To escape the infliction, they feedanother cunning man, in Nottinghamshire, who told them of a similar charm, which would preserve them from all the malice of their enemies. The writerconcludes by saying, that "the doctor, not long after he had been thusconsulted, wrote to say, that he had discovered that his patient was notafflicted by Satan, as he had imagined, but by God, and would continuemore or less in the same state till his life's end. "

An impostor carried on a similar trade in the neighbourhood of TunbridgeWells about the year 1830. He had been in practice for several years, andcharged enormous fees for his advice. This fellow pretended to be theseventh son of a seventh son, and to be endowed in consequence withmiraculous powers for the cure of all diseases, but especially of thoseresulting from witchcraft. It was not only the poor who employed him, butladies who rode in their carriages. He was often sent for from a distanceof sixty or seventy miles by these people, who paid all his expenses toand fro, besides rewarding him handsomely. He was about eighty years ofage, and his extremely venerable appearance aided his imposition in noslight degree. His name was Okey or Oakley. 

In France, the superstition at this day is even more prevalent than it isin England. Garinet, in his history of Magic and Sorcery in that country, cites upwards of twenty instances which occurred between the years 1805and 1818. In the latter year no less than three tribunals were occupiedwith trials originating in this humiliating belief: we shall cite only oneof them. Julian Desbourdes, aged fifty-three, a mason, and inhabitant ofthe village of Thilouze, near Bourdeaux, was taken suddenly ill, in themonth of January 1818. As he did not know how to account for his malady, he suspected at last that he was bewitched. He communicated this suspicionto his son-in-law Bridier, and they both went to consult a sort of idiot, named Baudouin, who passed for a conjuror or _white-witch_. This man toldthem that Desbourdes was certainly bewitched, and offered to accompanythem to the house of an old man named Renard, who, he said, wasundoubtedly the criminal. On the night of the 23d of January all threeproceeded stealthily to the dwelling of Renard, and accused him ofafflicting persons with diseases by the aid of the devil. Desbourdes fellon his knees and earnestly entreated to be restored to his former health, promising that he would take no measures against him for the evil he haddone. The old man denied in the strongest terms that he was a wizard; andwhen Desbourdes still pressed him to remove the spell from him, he said heknew nothing about the spell, and refused to remove it. The idiotBaudouin, the _white-witch_, now interfered, and told his companions thatno relief for the malady could ever be procured until the old manconfessed his guilt. To force him to confession they lighted some sticksof sulphur which they had brought with them for the purpose, and placedthem under the old man's nose. In a few moments he fell down suffocatedand apparently lifeless. They were all greatly alarmed; and thinking thatthey had killed the man, they carried him out and threw him into aneighbouring pond, hoping to make it appear that he had fallen inaccidentally. The pond, however, was not very deep, and the coolness ofthe water reviving the old man, he opened his eyes and sat up. Desbourdesand Bridier, who were still waiting on the bank, were now more alarmedthan before, lest he should recover and inform against them. Theytherefore waded into the pond, seized their victim by the hair of thehead, beat him severely, and then held him under water till he wasdrowned. 

They were all three apprehended on the charge of murder a few daysafterwards. Desbourdes and Bridier were found guilty of aggravatedmanslaughter only, and sentenced to be burnt on the back, and to work inthe galleys for life. The _white-witch_ Baudouin was acquitted on theground of insanity. 

M. Garinet further informs us that France, at the time he wrote (1818), was overrun by a race of fellows who made a trade of casting out devilsand finding out witches. He adds also, that many of the priests in therural districts encouraged the superstition of their parishioners byresorting frequently to exorcisms whenever any foolish persons took itinto their heads that a spell had been thrown over them. He recommended, as a remedy for the evil, that all these exorcists, whether lay orclerical, should be sent to the galleys, and felt assured that the numberof witches would then very sensibly diminish. 

Many other instances of this lingering belief might be cited both inFrance and Great Britain, and indeed in every other country in Europe. Sodeeply rooted are some errors, that ages cannot remove them. The poisonoustree that once overshadowed the land may be cut down by the sturdy effortsof sages and philosophers; the sun may shine clearly upon spots wherevenomous things once nestled in security and shade; but still theentangled roots are stretched beneath the surface, and may be found bythose who dig. Another king like James I. Might make them vegetate again;and, more mischievous still, another pope like Innocent VIII. Might raisethe decaying roots to strength and verdure. Still it is consoling to thinkthat the delirium has passed away; that the raging madness has given placeto a milder folly; and that we may now count by units the votaries of asuperstition which in former ages numbered its victims by tens ofthousands, and its votaries by millions. 

[Illustration: FLOATING A WITCH. ]

[Illustration: PLACE DE GREVE. ]

THE SLOW POISONERS. 

 _Pescara. _ The like was never read of. 

 _Stephano. _ In my judgment, To all that shall but hear it, 'twill appear A most impossible fable. 

 _Pescara. _ Troth, I'll tell you, And briefly as I can, by what degrees They fell into this madness. --_Duke of Milan_. 

The atrocious system of poisoning by poisons so slow in their operation asto make the victim appear, to ordinary observers, as if dying from agradual decay of nature, has been practised in all ages. Those who arecurious in the matter may refer to Beckmann on secret poisons, in his_History of Inventions_, in which he has collected several instances of itfrom the Greek and Roman writers. Early in the sixteenth century the crimeseems to have gradually increased, till in the seventeenth it spread overEurope like a pestilence. It was often exercised by pretended witches andsorcerers, and finally became a branch of education amongst all who laidany claim to magical and supernatural arts. In the twenty-first year ofHenry VIII. An act was passed rendering it high treason. Those foundguilty of it were to be boiled to death. 

One of the first in point of date, and hardly second to any in point ofatrocity, is the murder by this means of Sir Thomas Overbury; whichdisgraced the court of James I. In the year 1613. A slight sketch of itwill be a fitting introduction to the history of the poisoning mania, which was so prevalent in France and Italy fifty years later. 

Robert Kerr, a Scottish youth, was early taken notice of by James I. , andloaded with honours, for no other reason that the world could everdiscover than the beauty of his person. James, even in his own day, wassuspected of being addicted to the most abominable of all offences; andthe more we examine his history now, the stronger the suspicion becomes. However that may be, the handsome Kerr, lending his smooth cheek even inpublic to the disgusting kisses of his royal master, rose rapidly infavour. In the year 1613, he was made Lord High Treasurer of Scotland, andcreated an English peer by the style and title of Viscount Rochester. Still further honours were in store for him. 

In this rapid promotion he had not been without a friend. Sir ThomasOverbury, the king's secretary--who appears, from some threats in his ownletters, to have been no better than a pander to the vices of the king, and privy to his dangerous secrets--exerted all his backstair influence toforward the promotion of Kerr, by whom he was doubtless repaid in some wayor other. Overbury did not confine his friendship to this--if friendshipever could exist between two such men--but acted the part of an_entremetteur_, and assisted Rochester to carry on an adulterous intriguewith the Lady Frances Howard, the wife of the Earl of Essex. This womanwas a person of violent passions, and lost to all sense of shame. Herhusband was in her way, and to be freed from him she institutedproceedings for a divorce, on grounds which a woman of any modesty ordelicacy of feeling would die rather than avow. Her scandalous suit wassuccessful, and was no sooner decided than preparations on a scale of thegreatest magnificence were made for her marriage with Lord Rochester. 

Sir Thomas Overbury, who had willingly assisted his patron to intriguewith the Countess of Essex, seems to have imagined that his marriage withso vile a woman might retard his advancement. He accordingly employed allhis influence to dissuade him from it; but Rochester was bent on thematch, and his passions were as violent as those of the countess. On oneoccasion, when Overbury and the viscount were walking in the gallery ofWhitehall, Overbury was overheard to say, "Well, my lord, if you do marrythat base woman, you will utterly ruin your honour and yourself. You shallnever do it with my advice or consent; and if you do, you had best look tostand fast. " Rochester flung from him in a rage, exclaiming with an oath, "I will be even with you for this. " These words were the death-warrant ofthe unfortunate Overbury. He had mortally wounded the pride of Rochesterin insinuating that by his (Overbury's) means he might be lowered in theking's favour; and he had endeavoured to curb the burning passions of aheartless, dissolute, and reckless man. 

Overbury's imprudent remonstrances were reported to the countess; and fromthat moment she also vowed the most deadly vengeance against him. With afiendish hypocrisy, however, they both concealed their intentions; andOverbury, at the solicitation of Rochester, was appointed ambassador tothe court of Russia. This apparent favour was but the first step in a deepand deadly plot. Rochester, pretending to be warmly attached to theinterests of Overbury, advised him to refuse the embassy, which he saidwas but a trick to get him out of the way. He promised, at the same time, to stand between him and any evil consequences which might result from hisrefusal. Overbury fell into the snare, and declined the embassy. James, offended, immediately ordered his committal to the Tower. 

He was now in safe custody, and his enemies had opportunity to commencethe work of vengeance. The first thing Rochester did was to procure, byhis influence at court, the dismissal of the Lieutenant of the Tower, andthe appointment of Sir Jervis Elwes, one of his creatures, to the vacantpost. This man was but one instrument; and another being necessary, wasfound in Richard Weston, a fellow who had formerly been shopman to adruggist. He was installed in the office of under-keeper, and as such hadthe direct custody of Overbury. So far all was favourable to the designsof the conspirators. 

In the mean time the insidious Rochester wrote the most friendly lettersto Overbury, requesting him to bear his ill-fortune patiently, andpromising that his imprisonment should not be of long duration; for thathis friends were exerting themselves to soften the king's displeasure. Still pretending the extreme of sympathy for him, he followed up theletters by presents of pastry and other delicacies, which could not beprocured in the Tower. These articles were all poisoned. Occasionally, presents of a similar description were sent to Sir Jervis Elwes, with theunderstanding that these articles were not poisoned, when they wereunaccompanied by letters: of these the unfortunate prisoner never tasted. A woman named Turner, who had formerly kept a house of ill-fame, and whohad more than once lent it to further the guilty intercourse of Rochesterand Lady Essex, was the agent employed to procure the poisons. They wereprepared by Dr. Forman, a pretended fortune-teller of Lambeth, assisted byan apothecary named Franklin. Both these persons knew for what purposesthe poisons were needed, and employed their skill in mixing them in thepastry and other edibles, in such small quantities as gradually to wearout the constitution of their victim. Mrs. Turner regularly furnished thepoisoned articles to the under-keeper, who placed them before Overbury. Not only his food but his drink was poisoned. Arsenic was mixed with thesalt he ate, and cantharides with the pepper. All this time his healthdeclined sensibly. Daily he grew weaker and weaker; and with a sicklyappetite craved for sweets and jellies. Rochester continued to condolewith him, and anticipated all his wants in this respect, sending himabundance of pastry, and occasionally partridges and other game, and youngpigs. With the sauce for the game, Mrs. Turner mixed a quantity ofcantharides, and poisoned the pork with lunar-caustic. As stated on thetrial, Overbury took in this manner poison enough to have poisoned twentymen; but his constitution was strong, and he still lingered. Franklin, theapothecary, confessed that he prepared with Dr. Forman seven differentsorts of poisons, viz. Aquafortis, arsenic, mercury, powder of diamonds, lunar caustic, great spiders, and cantharides. Overbury held out so longthat Rochester became impatient, and in a letter to Lady Essex, expressedhis wonder that things were not sooner despatched. Orders were immediatelysent by Lady Essex to the keeper to finish with the victim at once. Overbury had not been all this time without suspicion of treachery, although he appears to have had no idea of poison. He merely suspectedthat it was intended to confine him for life, and to set the king stillmore bitterly against him. In one of his letters he threatened Rochesterthat unless he were speedily liberated, he would expose his villany to theworld. He says, "You and I, ere it be long, will come to a public trial ofanother nature. " * * * "Drive me not to extremities, lest I should saysomething that both you and I should repent. " * * * "Whether I live ordie, your shame shall never die, but ever remain to the world, to make youthe most odious man living. " * * * "I wonder much you should neglect himto whom such secrets of all kinds have passed. " * * * "Be these the fruitsof common secrets, common dangers?"

[Illustration: SIR THOMAS OVERBURY. ]

All these remonstrances, and hints as to the dangerous secrets in hiskeeping, were ill calculated to serve him with a man so reckless as LordRochester: they were more likely to cause him to be sacrificed than to besaved. Rochester appears to have acted as if he thought so. He doubtlessemployed the murderer's reasoning, that "dead men tell no tales, " when, after receiving letters of this description, he complained to his paramourof the delay. Weston was spurred on to consummate the atrocity; and thepatience of all parties being exhausted, a dose of corrosive sublimate wasadministered to him in October 1613, which put an end to his sufferings, after he had been for six months in their hands. On the very day of hisdeath, and before his body was cold, he was wrapped up carelessly in asheet, and buried without any funeral ceremony in a pit within theprecincts of the Tower. 

Sir Anthony Weldon, in his _Court and Character of James I. _, gives asomewhat different account of the closing scene of this tragedy. He says, "Franklin and Weston came into Overbury's chamber, and found him ininfinite torment, with contention between the strength of nature and theworking of the poison; and it being very like that nature had gotten thebetter in this contention, by the thrusting out of boils, blotches, andblains, they, fearing it might come to light by the judgment ofphysicians, the foul play that had been offered him, consented to stiflehim with the bedclothes, which accordingly was performed; and so ended hismiserable life, with the assurance of the conspirators that he died by thepoison; none thinking otherwise than these two murderers. "

The sudden death, the indecent haste of the funeral, and the non-holdingof an inquest upon the body, strengthened the suspicions that were afloat. Rumour, instead of whispering, began to speak out; and the relatives ofthe deceased openly expressed their belief that their kinsman had beenmurdered. But Rochester was still all powerful at court, and no one daredto utter a word to his discredit. Shortly afterwards, his marriage withthe Countess of Essex was celebrated with the utmost splendour, the kinghimself being present at the ceremony. 

It would seem that Overbury's knowledge of James's character was deeperthan Rochester had given him credit for, and that he had been a trueprophet when he predicted that his marriage would eventually estrangeJames from his minion. At this time, however, Rochester stood higher thanever in the royal favour; but it did not last long--conscience, that busymonitor, was at work. The tongue of rumour was never still; and Rochester, who had long been a guilty, became at last a wretched man. His cheeks losttheir colour--his eyes grew dim; and he became moody, careless, andmelancholy. The king, seeing him thus, took at length no pleasure in hissociety, and began to look about for another favourite. George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, was the man to his mind: quick-witted, handsome, andunscrupulous. The two latter qualities alone were sufficient to recommendhim to James I. In proportion as the influence of Rochester declined, thatof Buckingham increased. A falling favourite has no friends; and rumourwagged her tongue against Rochester louder and more pertinaciously thanever. A new favourite, too, generally endeavours to hasten by a kick thefall of the old one; and Buckingham, anxious to work the complete ruin ofhis forerunner in the king's good graces, encouraged the relatives of SirThomas Overbury to prosecute their inquiries into the strange death oftheir kinsman. 

James was rigorous enough in the punishment of offences when he was nothimself involved. He piqued himself, moreover, on his dexterity inunravelling mysteries. The affair of Sir Thomas Overbury found himcongenial occupation. He set to work by ordering the arrest of Sir JervisElwes. James, at this early stage of the proceedings, does not seem tohave been aware that Rochester was so deeply implicated. Struck withhorror at the atrocious system of slow poisoning, the king sent for allthe judges. According to Sir Anthony Weldon, he knelt down in the midst ofthem, and said, "My lords the judges, it is lately come to my hearing thatyou have now in examination a business of poisoning. Lord! in what amiserable condition shall this kingdom be (the only famous nation forhospitality in the world) if our tables should become such a snare, asthat none could eat without danger of life, and that Italian custom shouldbe introduced among us! Therefore, my lords, I charge you, as you willanswer it at that great and dreadful day of judgment, that you examine itstrictly, without favour, affection, or partiality. And if you shall spareany guilty of this crime, God's curse light on you and your posterity! andif I spare any that are guilty, God's curse light on me and my posterityfor ever!"

[Illustration: DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. ]

The imprecation fell but too surely upon the devoted house of Stuart. Thesolemn oath was broken, and God's curse _did_ light upon him and hisposterity!

The next person arrested after Sir Jervis Elwes, was Weston, theunder-keeper; then Franklin and Mrs. Turner; and lastly, the Earl andCountess of Somerset, to which dignity Rochester had been advanced sincethe death of Overbury. 

Weston was first brought to trial. Public curiosity was on the stretch. Nothing else was talked of, and the court on the day of trial was crowdedto suffocation. The _State Trials_ report, that Lord Chief Justice Coke"laid open to the jury the baseness and cowardliness of poisoners, whoattempt that secretly against which there is no means of preservation ordefence for a man's life; and how rare it was to hear of any poisoning inEngland, so detestable it was to our nation. But the devil had taughtdivers to be cunning in it, so that they can poison in what distance ofspace they please, by consuming the _nativum calidum_, or _humidumradicale_, in one month, two or three, or more, as they list, which theyfour manner of ways do execute, viz. _haustu_, _gustu_, _odore_, and_contactu_. "

[Illustration: LORD COKE. ]

When the indictment was read over, Weston made no other reply than "Lordhave mercy upon me! Lord have mercy upon me!" On being asked how he wouldbe tried, he refused to throw himself upon a jury of his country, anddeclared that he would be tried by God alone. In this he persisted forsome time. The fear of the dreadful punishment for contumacy[38] inducedhim at length to plead "Not guilty, " and take his trial in due course oflaw. 

 [38] The punishment for the contumacious was expressed by the words _onere, frigore, et fame_. By the first was meant, that the culprit should be extended on his back on the ground, and weights placed over his body, gradually increased, until he expired. Sometimes the punishment was not extended to this length, and the victim being allowed to recover, underwent the second portion, the _frigore_, which consisted in his standing naked in the open air, for a certain space, in the sight of all the people. The third, or _fame_, was more dreadful, the statute saying, "That he was to be preserved with the coarsest bread that could be got, and water out of the next sink, or puddle, to the place of execution; and that day he had water he should have no bread, and that day he had bread he should have no water;" and in this torment he was to linger as long as nature would hold out. 

All the circumstances against him were fully proved, and he was foundguilty and executed at Tyburn. Mrs. Turner, Franklin, and Sir Jervis Elweswere also brought to trial, found guilty, and executed between the 19th ofOctober and the 4th of December 1615; but the grand trial of the Earl andCountess of Somerset did not take place till the month of May following. 

On the trial of Sir Jervis Elwes, circumstances had transpired, shewing aguilty knowledge of the poisoning on the part of the Earl of Northampton, the uncle of Lady Somerset, and the chief falconer Sir Thomas Monson. Theformer was dead; but Sir Thomas Monson was arrested and brought to trial. It appeared, however, that he was too dangerous a man to be brought to thescaffold. He knew too many of the odious secrets of James I. , and hisdying speech might contain disclosures which would compromise the king. Toconceal old guilt it was necessary to incur new: the trial of Sir ThomasMonson was brought to an abrupt conclusion, and himself set at liberty. 

Already James had broken his oath. He now began to fear that he had beenrash in engaging so zealously to bring the poisoners to punishment. ThatSomerset would be declared guilty there was no doubt, and that he lookedfor pardon and impunity was equally evident to the king. Somerset, whilein the Tower, asserted confidently that James would not _dare_ to bringhim to trial. In this he was mistaken; but James was in an agony. What thesecret was between them will now never be known with certainty; but it maybe surmised. Some have imagined it to be the vice to which the king wasaddicted; while others have asserted that it related to the death ofPrince Henry, a virtuous young man, who had held Somerset in especialabhorrence. This prince died early, unlamented by his father, and, aspublic opinion whispered at the time, poisoned by Somerset. Probably somecrime or other lay heavy upon the soul of the king; and Somerset, hisaccomplice, could not be brought to public execution with safety. Hencethe dreadful tortures of James when he discovered that his favourite wasso deeply implicated in the murder of Overbury. Every means was taken bythe agonised king to bring the prisoner into what was called a safe frameof mind. He was secretly advised to plead guilty, and trust to theclemency of the king. The same advice was conveyed to the countess. Baconwas instructed by the king to draw up a paper of all the points of "mercyand favour" to Somerset which might result from the evidence; and Somersetwas again recommended to plead guilty, and promised that no evil shouldensue to him. 

[Illustration: THE EARL OF SOMERSET. ]

The countess was first tried. She trembled and shed tears during thereading of the indictment, and, in a low voice, pleaded guilty. On beingasked why sentence of death should not be passed against her, she repliedmeekly, "I can much aggravate, but nothing extenuate my fault. I desiremercy, and that the lords will intercede for me with the king. " Sentenceof death was passed upon her. 

Next day the earl was brought to trial. He appears to have mistrusted thepromises of James, and he pleaded not guilty. With a self-possession andconfidence which he felt, probably, from his knowledge of the king'scharacter, he rigorously cross-examined the witnesses, and made a stubborndefence. After a trial which lasted eleven hours he was found guilty, andcondemned to the felon's death. 

[Illustration: THE COUNTESS OF SOMERSET. ]

Whatever may have been the secrets between the criminal and the king, thelatter, notwithstanding his terrific oath, was afraid to sign thedeath-warrant. It might, perchance, have been his own. The earl andcountess were committed to the Tower, where they remained for nearly fiveyears. At the end of this period, to the surprise and scandal of thecommunity, and the disgrace of its chief magistrate, they both receivedthe royal pardon, but were ordered to reside at a distance from the court. Having been found guilty of felony, the estates of the earl had becomeforfeited; but James granted him out of their revenues an income of4000l. Per annum! Shamelessness could go no further. 

Of the after-life of these criminals nothing is known, except that thelove they had formerly borne each other was changed into aversion, andthat they lived under the same roof for months together without theinterchange of a word. 

The exposure of their atrocities did not put a stop to the practice ofpoisoning. On the contrary, as we shall see hereafter, it engendered thatinsane imitation which is so strange a feature of the human character. James himself is supposed, with great probability, to have fallen a victimto it. In the notes to Harris's _Life and Writings of James I. _, there isa good deal of information on the subject. The guilt of Buckingham, although not fully established, rests upon circumstances of suspicionstronger than have been sufficient to lead hundreds to the scaffold. Hismotives for committing the crime are stated to have been a desire ofrevenge for the coldness with which the king, in the latter years of hisreign, began to regard him; his fear that James intended to degrade him;and his hope that the great influence he possessed over the mind of theheir-apparent would last through a new reign, if the old one were broughtto a close. 

In the second volume of the _Harleian Miscellany_, there is a tract, entitled the _Forerunner of Revenge_, written by George Eglisham, doctorof medicine, and one of the physicians to King James. Harris, in quotingit, says that it is full of rancour and prejudice. It is evidentlyexaggerated, but forms nevertheless a link in the chain of evidence. Eglisham says, "The king being sick of an ague, the duke took thisopportunity, when all the king's doctors of physic were at dinner, andoffered to him a white powder to take, the which he a long time refused;but, overcome with his flattering importunity, he took it in wine, andimmediately became worse and worse, falling into many swoonings and pains, and violent fluxes of the belly, so tormented, that his majesty cried outaloud of this white powder, 'Would to God I had never taken it!'" He thentells us "of the Countess of Buckingham (the duke's mother) applying theplaister to the king's heart and breast, whereupon he grew faint andshort-breathed, and in agony; that the physicians exclaimed that the kingwas poisoned; that Buckingham commanded them out of the room, andcommitted one of them close prisoner to his own chamber, and another to beremoved from court; and that, after his majesty's death, his body and headswelled above measure; his hair, with the skin of his head, stuck to hispillow, and his nails became loose on his fingers and toes. " Clarendon, who, by the way, was a partisan of the duke's, gives a totally differentaccount of James's death. He says, "It was occasioned by an ague (after ashort indisposition by the gout), which, meeting many humours in a fatunwieldy body of fifty-eight years old, in four or five fits carried himout of the world, --after whose death many scandalous and libellousdiscourses were raised, without the least colour or ground, as appearedupon the strictest and most malicious examination that could be made, longafter, in a time of license, when nobody was afraid of offending majesty, and when prosecuting the highest reproaches and contumelies against theroyal family was held very meritorious. " Notwithstanding this confidentdeclaration, the world will hardly be persuaded that there was not sometruth in the rumours that were abroad. The inquiries which were institutedwere not strict, as he asserts, and all the unconstitutional influence ofthe powerful favourite was exerted to defeat them. In the celebratedaccusations brought against Buckingham by the Earl of Bristol, thepoisoning of King James was placed last on the list; and the pages ofhistory bear evidence of the summary mode in which they were, for thetime, got rid of. 

The man from whom Buckingham is said to have procured his poisons was oneDr. Lamb, a conjuror and empiric, who, besides dealing in poisons, pretended to be a fortune-teller. The popular fury, which broke withcomparative harmlessness against his patron, was directed against thisman, until he could not appear with safety in the streets of London. Hisfate was melancholy. Walking one day in Cheapside, disguised, as hethought, from all observers, he was recognised by some idle boys, whobegan to hoot and pelt him with stones, calling out, "The poisoner! thepoisoner! Down with the wizard! down with him!" A mob very soon collected, and the doctor took to his heels and ran for his life. He was pursued andseized in Wood Street, and from thence dragged by the hair through themire to St. Paul's Cross; the mob beating him with sticks and stones, andcalling out, "Kill the wizard! kill the poisoner!"

Charles I. , on hearing of the riot, rode from Whitehall to quell it; buthe arrived too late to save the victim. Every bone in his body was broken, and he was quite dead. Charles was excessively indignant, and fined thecity six hundred pounds for its inability to deliver up the ring-leadersto justice. 

[Illustration: PAUL'S CROSS; SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. ]

But it was in Italy that poisoning was most prevalent. From a very earlyperiod, it seems to have been looked upon in that country as a perfectlyjustifiable means of getting rid of an enemy. The Italians of thesixteenth and seventeenth centuries poisoned their opponents with aslittle compunction as an Englishman of the present day brings an action atlaw against any one who has done him an injury. The writings ofcontemporary authors inform us that, when La Spara and La Tophania carriedon their infernal trade, ladies put poison-bottles on theirdressing-tables as openly, and used them with as little scruple uponothers, as modern dames use _Eau de Cologne_ or lavender-water uponthemselves. So powerful is the influence of fashion, it can even causemurder to be regarded as a venial peccadillo. 

In the memoirs of the last Duke of Guise, who made a Quixotic attempt, in1648, to seize upon the government of Naples, we find some curiousparticulars relative to the popular feeling with regard to poisoning. Aman named Gennaro Annese, who, after the short and extraordinary career ofMasaniello the fisherman, had established himself as a sort ofcaptain-general of the populace, rendered himself so obnoxious to the Dukeof Guise, that the adherents of the latter determined to murder him. Thecaptain of the guard, as the duke himself very coolly informs us, wasrequested to undertake this office. It was suggested to him that the_poniard_ would be the most effectual instrument, but the man turned uphis eyes with pious horror at the proposition. He was ready to _poison_Gennaro Annese whenever he might be called upon to do so; but to poniardhim, he said, would be disgraceful, and unbecoming an officer of theguards! At last, poison was agreed upon, and Augustino Molla, an attorneyin the duke's confidence, brought the bottle containing the liquid to shewit to his master. The following is the Duke's own account:

"Augustino came to me at night, and told me: 'I have brought you somethingwhich will free you from Gennaro. He deserves death, and it is no greatmatter after what fashion justice is done upon him. Look at this vial, full of clear and beautiful water: in four days' time, it will punish allhis treasons. The captain of the guard has undertaken to give it him; andas it has no taste at all, Gennaro will suspect nothing. '"

The duke further informs us that the dose was duly administered; but thatGennaro, fortunately for himself, ate nothing for dinner that day butcabbage dressed with oil, which acting as an antidote, caused him to vomitprofusely, and saved his life. He was exceedingly ill for five days, butnever suspected that he had been poisoned. 

In process of time, poison-vending became a profitable trade. Eleven yearsafter this period, it was carried on at Rome to such an extent, that thesluggish government was roused to interference. Beckmann, in his _Historyof Inventions_, and Lebret, in his _Magazin zum Gebrauche der StaatenKirche Geschichte_, or _Magazine of Materials for a History of a StateChurch_, relates that, in the year 1659, it was made known to PopeAlexander VII. That great numbers of young women had avowed in theconfessional that they had poisoned their husbands with slow poisons. TheCatholic clergy, who in general hold the secrets of the confessional sosacred, were shocked and alarmed at the extraordinary prevalence of thecrime. Although they refrained from revealing the names of the penitents, they conceived themselves bound to apprise the head of the Church of theenormities that were practised. It was also the subject of generalconversation in Rome that young widows were unusually abundant. It wasremarked, too, that if any couple lived unhappily together, the husbandsoon took ill and died. The papal authorities, when once they began toinquire, soon learned that a society of young wives had been formed, andmet nightly, for some mysterious purpose, at the house of an old womannamed Hieronyma Spara. This hag was a reputed witch and fortune-teller, and acted as president of the young viragos, several of whom, it wasafterwards ascertained, belonged to the first families of Rome. 

In order to have positive evidence of the practices of this femaleconclave, a lady was employed by the government to seek an interview withthem. She dressed herself out in the most magnificent style; and havingbeen amply provided with money, she found but little difficulty, when shehad stated her object, of procuring an audience of La Spara and hersisterhood. She pretended to be in extreme distress of mind on account ofthe infidelities and ill-treatment of her husband, and implored La Sparato furnish her with a few drops of the wonderful elixir, the efficacy ofwhich in sending cruel husbands to "their last long sleep" was so muchvaunted by the ladies of Rome. La Spara fell into the snare, and sold hersome of her "drops" at a price commensurate with the supposed wealth ofthe purchaser. 

The liquor thus obtained was subjected to an analysis, and found to be, aswas suspected, a slow poison; clear, tasteless, and limpid, like thatspoken of by the Duke of Guise. Upon this evidence, the house wassurrounded by the police, and La Spara and her companions taken intocustody. La Spara, who is described as having been a little ugly oldwoman, was put to the torture, but obstinately refused to confess herguilt. Another of the women, named La Gratiosa, had less firmness, andlaid bare all the secrets of the infernal sisterhood. Taking a confessionextorted by anguish on the rack at its true value (nothing at all), thereis still sufficient evidence to warrant posterity in the belief of theirguilt. They were found guilty, and condemned, according to their degreesof culpability, to various punishments. La Spara, Gratiosa, and threeyoung women, who had poisoned their husbands, were hanged together atRome. Upwards of thirty women were whipped publicly through the streets;and several, whose high rank screened them from more degrading punishment, were banished from the country, and mulcted in heavy fines. In a fewmonths afterwards, nine women more were hanged for poisoning; and anotherbevy, including many young and beautiful girls, were whipped half nakedthrough the streets of Rome. 

This severity did not put a stop to the practice, and jealous women andavaricious men, anxious to step into the inheritance of fathers, uncles, or brothers, resorted to poison. As it was quite free from taste, colour, and smell, it was administered without exciting suspicion. The skilfulvendors compounded it of different degrees of strength, so that thepoisoners had only to say whether they wanted their victims to die in aweek, a month, or six months, and they were suited with correspondingdoses. The vendors were chiefly women, of whom the most celebrated was ahag named Tophania, who was in this way accessory to the death of upwardsof six hundred persons. This woman appears to have been a dealer inpoisons from her girlhood, and resided first at Palermo and then atNaples. That entertaining traveller, Father Lebat, has given, in hisletters from Italy, many curious particulars relating to her. When he wasat Civita Vecchia, in 1719, the Viceroy of Naples discovered that poisonwas extensively sold in the latter city, and that it went by the name of_aqueta_, or little-water. On making further inquiry, he ascertained thatTophania (who was by this time near seventy years of age, and who seems tohave begun her evil courses very soon after the execution of La Spara, )sent large quantities of it to all parts of Italy in small vials, with theinscription, "Manna of St. Nicholas of Barri. "

The tomb of St. Nicholas of Barri was celebrated throughout Italy. Amiraculous oil was said to ooze from it, which cured nearly all themaladies that flesh is heir to, provided the recipient made use of it withthe due degree of _faith_. La Tophania artfully gave this name to herpoison to elude the vigilance of the custom-house officers, who, in commonwith every body else, had a pious respect for St. Nicholas de Barri andhis wonderful oil. 

The poison was similar to that manufactured by La Spara. Hahnemann thephysician, and father of the homoeopathic doctrine, writing upon thissubject, says it was compounded of arsenical neutral salts, occasioning inthe victim a gradual loss of appetite, faintness, gnawing pains in thestomach, loss of strength, and wasting of the lungs. The Abbé Gagliardisays, that a few drops of it were generally poured into tea, chocolate, orsoup, and its effects were slow, and almost imperceptible. Garelli, physician to the Emperor of Austria, in a letter to Hoffmann, says it wascrystallised arsenic, dissolved in a large quantity of water by decoction, with the addition (for some unexplained purpose) of the herb _cymbalaria_. The Neapolitans called it _Aqua Toffnina_; and it became notorious allover Europe under the name of _Aqua Tophania_. 

Although this woman carried on her infamous traffic so extensively, it wasextremely difficult to meet with her. She lived in continual dread ofdiscovery. She constantly changed her name and residence; and pretendingto be a person of great godliness, resided in monasteries for monthstogether. Whenever she was more than usually apprehensive of detection shesought ecclesiastical protection. She was soon apprised of the search madefor her by the Viceroy of Naples, and, according to her practice, tookrefuge in a monastery. Either the search after her was not very rigid, orher measures were exceedingly well taken; for she contrived to elude thevigilance of the authorities for several years. What is still moreextraordinary, as shewing the ramifications of her system, her trade wasstill carried on to as great an extent as before. Lebat informs us thatshe had so great a sympathy for poor wives who hated their husbands andwanted to get rid of them, but could not afford to buy her wonderful_aqua_, that she made them presents of it. 

She was not allowed, however, to play at this game for ever; she was atlength discovered in a nunnery, and her retreat cut off. The viceroy madeseveral representations to the superior to deliver her up, but withouteffect. The abbess, supported by the archbishop of the diocese, constantlyrefused. The public curiosity was in consequence so much excited at theadditional importance thus thrust upon the criminal, that thousands ofpersons visited the nunnery in order to catch a glimpse of her. 

The patience of the viceroy appears to have been exhausted by thesedelays. Being a man of sense, and not a very zealous Catholic, hedetermined that even the Church should not shield a criminal so atrocious. Setting the privileges of the nunnery at defiance, he sent a troop ofsoldiers, who broke over the walls, and carried her away _vi et armis_. The archbishop, Cardinal Pignatelli, was highly indignant, and threatenedto excommunicate and lay the whole city under interdict. All the inferiorclergy, animated by the _esprit du corps_, took up the question, and soworked upon the superstitious and bigoted people, that they were ready torise in a mass to storm the palace of the viceroy and rescue the prisoner. 

These were serious difficulties; but the viceroy was not a man to bedaunted. Indeed, he seems to have acted throughout with a rare union ofastuteness, coolness, and energy. To avoid the evil consequences of thethreatened excommunication, he placed a guard round the palace of thearchbishop, judging that the latter would not be so foolish as to launchout an anathema which would cause the city to be starved, and himself init. The market-people would not have dared to come to the city withprovisions so long as it remained under the ban. There would have been toomuch inconvenience to himself and his ghostly brethren in such a measure;and, as the viceroy anticipated, the good cardinal reserved his thundersfor some other occasion. 

Still there was the populace. To quiet their clamour and avert theimpending insurrection, the agents of the government adroitly mingled withthe people, and spread abroad a report that Tophania had poisoned all thewells and fountains of the city. This was enough. The popular feeling wasturned against her immediately. Those who, but a moment before, had lookedupon her as a saint, now reviled her as a devil, and were as eager for herpunishment as they had before been for her escape. Tophania was then putto the torture. She confessed the long catalogue of her crimes, and namedall the persons who had employed her. She was shortly afterwardsstrangled, and her corpse thrown over the wall into the garden of theconvent from whence she had been taken. This appears to have been done toconciliate the clergy, by allowing them, at least, the burial of one whohad taken refuge within their precincts. 

After her death the mania for poisoning seems to have abated; but we haveyet to see what hold it took upon the French people at a somewhat earlierperiod. So rooted had it become in France between the years 1670 and 1680, that Madame de Sevigné, in one of her letters, expresses her fear thatFrenchman and poisoner would become synonymous terms. 

As in Italy, the first notice the government received of the prevalence ofthis crime was given by the clergy, to whom females of high rank, and someamong the middle and lower classes, had avowed in the confessional thatthey had poisoned their husbands. In consequence of these disclosures, twoItalians, named Exili and Glaser, were arrested, and thrown into theBastille, on the charge of compounding and selling the drugs used forthese murders. Glaser died in prison, but Exili remained without trial forseveral months; and there, shortly afterwards, he made the acquaintance ofanother prisoner, named Sainte Croix, by whose example the crime was stillfurther disseminated among the French people. 

The most notorious of the poisoners that derived their perniciousknowledge from this man was Madame de Brinvilliers, a young womanconnected both by birth and marriage with some of the noblest families ofFrance. She seems, from her very earliest years, to have been heartlessand depraved; and, if we may believe her own confession, was steeped inwickedness ere she had well entered her teens. She was, however, beautifuland accomplished; and, in the eye of the world, seemed exemplary and kind. Guyot de Pitaval, in the _Causes Célèbres_, and Madame de Sevigné, in herletters, represent her as mild and agreeable in her manners, and offeringno traces on her countenance of the evil soul within. She was married in1651 to the Marquis de Brinvilliers, with whom she lived unhappily forsome years. He was a loose, dissipated character, and was the means ofintroducing Sainte Croix to his wife, a man who cast a blight upon herlife, and dragged her on from crime to crime, till her offences became sogreat that the mind shudders to dwell upon them. For this man sheconceived a guilty passion, to gratify which she plunged at once into thegulf of sin. She was drawn to its most loathsome depths ere retributionovertook her. 

She had as yet shewn a fair outside to the world, and found but littledifficulty in effecting a legal separation from her husband, who had notthe art to conceal his vices. The proceeding gave great offence to herfamily. She appears, after this, to have thrown off the mask completely, and carried on her intrigues so openly with her lover, Sainte Croix, thather father, M. D'Aubray, scandalised at her conduct, procured a _lettre decachet_, and had him imprisoned in the Bastille for a twelvemonth. 

[Illustration: THE BASTILLE. ]

Sainte Croix, who had been in Italy, was a dabbler in poisons. He knewsomething of the secrets of the detestable La Spara, and improved himselfin them from the instructions of Exili, with whom he speedily contracted asort of friendship. By him he was shewn how to prepare, not only theliquid poisons employed in Italy, but that known as _succession powder_, which afterwards became so celebrated in France. Like his mistress, heappeared amiable, witty, and intelligent, and shewed no signs to the worldof the two fierce passions, revenge and avarice, which were gnawing at hisheart. Both these passions were to be sated on the unfortunate family ofD'Aubray; his revenge, because they had imprisoned him; and his avarice, because they were rich. Reckless and extravagant, he was always in want ofmoney, and he had no one to supply him but Madame de Brinvilliers, whoseown portion was far from sufficient to satisfy his need. Groaning to thinkthat any impediment should stand between him and wealth, he conceived thehorrid idea of poisoning M. D'Aubray her father, and her two brothers, that she might inherit the property. Three murders were nothing to such avillain. He communicated his plan to Madame de Brinvilliers; and she, without the slightest scruple, agreed to aid him: he undertook to compoundthe poisons, and she to administer them. The zeal and alacrity with whichshe set to work seem hardly credible. Sainte Croix found her an aptscholar; and she soon became as expert as himself in the manufacture ofpoisons. To try the strength of the first doses, she used to administerthem to dogs, rabbits, and pigeons. Afterwards, wishing to be more certainof their effects, she went round to the hospitals, and administered themto the sick poor in the soups which she brought in apparent charity. [39]None of the poisons were intended to kill at the first dose; so that shecould try them once upon an individual without fear of murder. She triedthe same atrocious experiment upon the guests at her father's table, bypoisoning a pigeon-pie! To be more certain still, she next poisonedherself! When convinced by this desperate essay of the potency of thedraught, she procured an antidote from Sainte Croix, and all doubts beingremoved, commenced operations upon her grey-headed father. Sheadministered the first dose with her own hands, in his chocolate. Thepoison worked well. The old man was taken ill, and his daughter, apparently full of tenderness and anxiety, watched by his bedside. Thenext day she gave him some broth, which she recommended as highlynourishing. This also was poisoned. In this manner she gradually wore outhis frame, and in less than ten days he was a corpse! His death seemed somuch the result of disease, that no suspicions were excited. 

 [39] This is denied by Voltaire in his _Age of Louis XIV. _; but he does not state for what reason. His words are, "Il est faux qu'elle eut essayé ses poisons dans les hôpitaux, comme le disait le peuple, et comme il est écrit dans les _Causes Célèbres_, ouvrage d'un avocat sans cause et fait pour le peuple. "

When the two brothers arrived from the provinces to render the last sadduties to their sire, they found their sister as grieved, to all outwardappearance, as even filial affection could desire: but the young men onlycame to perish. They stood between Sainte Croix and the alreadyhalf-clutched gold, and their doom was sealed. A man, named La Chaussée, was hired by Sainte Croix to aid in administering the poisons; and, inless than six weeks time, they had both gone to their long home. 

Suspicion was now excited; but so cautiously had all been done, that itfound no one upon whom to attach itself. The marquise had a sister, andshe was entitled, by the death of her relatives, to half the property. Less than the whole would not satisfy Sainte Croix, and he determined thatshe should die the same death as her father and brothers. She was toodistrustful, however; and, by quitting Paris, she escaped the destructionthat was lurking for her. 

The marquise had undertaken these murders to please her lover. She was nowanxious to perpetrate another on her own account. She wished to marrySainte Croix; but, though separated from her husband, she was notdivorced. She thought it would be easier to poison him than to apply tothe tribunals for a divorce, which might, perhaps, be refused. But SainteCroix had no longer any love for his guilty instrument. Bad men do notadmire others who are as bad as themselves. Though a villain himself, hehad no desire to marry one, and was not at all anxious for the death ofthe marquis. He seemed, however, to enter into the plot, and supplied herwith poison for her husband; but he took care to provide a remedy. LaBrinvilliers poisoned him one day, and Sainte Croix gave him an antidotethe next. In this manner he was buffeted about between them for some time, and finally escaped, with a ruined constitution and a broken heart. 

But the day of retribution was at hand, and a terrible mischance broughtthe murders to light. The nature of the poisons compounded by Sainte Croixwas so deadly, that, when working in his laboratory, he was obliged towear a mask, to preserve himself from suffocation. One day, the maskslipped off, and the miserable wretch perished in his crimes. His corpsewas found, on the following morning, in the obscure lodging where he hadfitted up his laboratory. As he appeared to be without friends orrelatives, the police took possession of his effects. Among other things, was found a small box, to which was affixed the following singulardocument:

"I humbly beg, that those into whose hands this box may fall, will do methe favour to deliver it into the hands only of the Marchioness deBrinvilliers, who resides in the Rue Neuve St. Paul, as every thing itcontains concerns her, and belongs to her alone; and as, besides, there isnothing in it that can be of use to any person but her. In case she shallbe dead before me, it is my wish that it be burned, with every thing itcontains, without opening or altering any thing. In order that no one mayplead ignorance, I swear by the God that I adore, and by all that is heldmost sacred, that I assert nothing but the truth: and if my intentions, just and reasonable as they are, be thwarted in this point by any persons, I charge their consciences with it, both in this world and that which isto come, in order that I may unload mine. I protest that this is my lastwill. Done at Paris, May 25, 1672. (Signed) SAINTE CROIX. "

This earnest solicitation, instead of insuring respect, as was intended, excited curiosity. The box was opened, and found to contain some papers, and several vials and powders. The latter were handed to a chemist foranalysis, and the documents were retained by the police, and opened. Amongthem was found a promissory note of the Marchioness de Brinvilliers, forthirty thousand francs, to the order of Sainte Croix. The other paperswere of greater importance, as they implicated both her and her servant, La Chaussée, in the recent murders. As soon as she was informed of thedeath of Sainte Croix, she made an attempt to gain possession of hispapers and the box; but, being refused, she saw that there was no time tobe lost, and immediately quitted. Next morning the police were on hertrail; but she succeeded in escaping to England. La Chaussée was not sofortunate. Altogether ignorant of the fatal mischance which had broughthis villanies to light, he did not dream of danger. He was arrested andbrought to trial: being put to the torture, he confessed that he hadadministered poison to the Messieurs d'Aubray, and that he had received ahundred pistoles, and the promise of an annuity for life, from SainteCroix and Madame de Brinvilliers, for the job. He was condemned to bebroken alive on the wheel, and the marchioness was, by default, sentencedto be beheaded. He was executed accordingly, in March 1673, on the Placede Grève, in Paris. 

La Brinvilliers appears to have resided for nearly three years in England. Early in 1676, thinking that the rigour of pursuit was over, and that shemight venture to return to the Continent, she proceeded secretly to Liège. Notwithstanding her care, the French authorities were soon apprised of herreturn; and arrangements were promptly made with the municipality of thatcity to permit the agents of the French police to arrest her within thelimits of their jurisdiction. Desgrais, an officer of the _maréchaussée_, accordingly left Paris for that purpose. On his arrival in Liège, he foundthat she had sought shelter within the walls of a convent. Here the arm ofthe law, long as it is said to be, could not reach her: but Desgrais wasnot a man to be baffled, and he resorted to stratagem to accomplish whatforce could not. Having disguised himself as a priest, he sought admissionto the convent, and obtained an interview with La Brinvilliers. He said, that being a Frenchman, and passing through Liège, he could not leave thatcity without paying a visit to a lady whose beauty and misfortunes were socelebrated. Her vanity was flattered by the compliment. Desgrais saw, touse a vulgar but forcible expression, "that he had got on the blind sideof her;" and he adroitly continued to pour out the language of love andadmiration till the deluded marchioness was thrown completely off herguard. She agreed, without much solicitation, to meet him outside thewalls of the convent, where their amorous intrigue might be carried onmore conveniently than within. Faithful to her appointment with hersupposed new lover, she came, and found herself, not in the embrace of agallant, but in the custody of a policeman. 

Her trial was not long delayed. The proofs against her were abundant. Thedying declaration of La Chaussée would have been alone enough to convicther; but besides that, there were the mysterious document attached to thebox of St. Croix, her flight from France, and, stronger and more damningproof than all, a paper, in her own handwriting, found among the effectsof St. Croix, in which she detailed to him the misdeeds of her life, andspoke of the murder of her father and brothers in terms that left no doubtof her guilt. During the trial, all Paris was in commotion. LaBrinvilliers was the only subject of conversation. All the details of hercrimes were published, and greedily devoured; and the idea of secretpoisoning first put into the heads of hundreds, who afterwards becameguilty of it. 

On the 16th of July, 1676, the Superior Criminal Court of Paris pronounceda verdict of guilty against her, for the murder of her father andbrothers, and the attempt upon the life of her sister. She was condemnedto be drawn on a hurdle, with her feet bare, a rope about her neck, and aburning torch in her hand, to the great entrance of the cathedral of NotreDame, where she was to make the _amende honorable_ in sight of all thepeople; to be taken from thence to the Place de Grève, and there to bebeheaded. Her body was afterwards to be burned, and her ashes scattered tothe winds. 

After her sentence, she made a full confession of her guilt. She seems tohave looked upon death without fear; but it was recklessness, not courage, that supported her. Madame de Sevigné says, that when on the hurdle, onher way to the scaffold, she entreated her confessor to exert hisinfluence with the executioner to place himself next to her, that his bodymight hide from her view "that scoundrel Desgrais, who had entrapped her. "She also asked the ladies, who had been drawn to their windows to witnessthe procession, what they were looking at? adding, "a pretty sight youhave come to see, truly!" She laughed when on the scaffold, dying as shehad lived, impenitent and heartless. On the morrow, the populace came incrowds to collect her ashes to preserve them as relics. She was regardedas a martyred saint, and her ashes were supposed to be endowed, by divinegrace, with the power of curing all diseases. Popular folly has oftencanonised persons whose pretensions to sanctity were extremely equivocal;but the disgusting folly of the multitude, in this instance, has neverbeen surpassed. 

Before her death, proceedings were instituted against M. De Penautier, treasurer of the province of Languedoc, and receiver-general for theclergy, who was accused by a lady, named St. Laurent, of having poisonedher husband, the late receiver-general, in order to obtain hisappointment. The circumstances of this case were never divulged, and thegreatest influence was exerted to prevent it from going to trial. He wasknown to have been intimate with Sainte Croix and Madame de Brinvilliers, and was thought to have procured his poisons from them. The latter, however, refused to say any thing which might implicate him. The inquirywas eventually stifled, after Penautier had been several months in theBastille. 

The Cardinal de Bonzy was accused by the gossips of the day of being anaccomplice of Penautier. The cardinal's estates were burdened with thepayment of several heavy annuities; but, about the time that poisoningbecame so fashionable, all the annuitants died off, one after the other. The cardinal, in talking of these annuitants, afterwards used to say, "Thanks to my star, I have outlived them all!" A wit, seeing him andPenautier riding in the same carriage, cried out, in allusion to thisexpression, "There go the Cardinal de Bonzy and his _star_!"

It was now that the mania for poisoning began to take hold of the popularmind. From this time until the year 1682, the prisons of France teemedwith persons accused of this crime; and it is very singular that otheroffences decreased in a similar proportion. We have already seen theextent to which it was carried in Italy. It was, if possible, surpassed inFrance. The diabolical ease with which these murders could be effected, bymeans of these scentless and tasteless poisons, enticed the evil-minded. Jealousy, revenge, avarice, even petty spite, alike resorted to them. Those who would have been deterred, by fear of detection, from using thepistol or the dagger, or even strong doses of poison, which kill at once, employed slow poisons without dread. The corrupt government of the day, although it could wink at the atrocities of a wealthy and influentialcourtier like Penautier, was scandalised to see the crime spreading amongthe people. Disgrace was, in fact, entailed, in the eyes of Europe, uponthe name of Frenchman. Louis XIV. , to put a stop to the evil, institutedwhat was called the Chambre Ardente, or Burning Chamber, with extensivepowers for the trial and punishment of the prisoners. 

Two women, especially, made themselves notorious at this time, and wereinstrumental to the deaths of hundreds of individuals. They both residedin Paris, and were named Lavoisin and Lavigoreux. Like Spara and Tophania, of whom they were imitators, they chiefly sold their poisons to women whowanted to get rid of their husbands; and, in some few instances, tohusbands who wanted to get rid of their wives. Their ostensible occupationwas that of midwives. They also pretended to be fortune-tellers, and werevisited by persons of every class of society. The rich and poor throngedalike to their _mansardes_ to learn the secrets of the future. Theirprophecies were principally of death. They foretold to women theapproaching dissolution of husbands, and to needy heirs the end of richrelatives, who had made them, as Byron expresses it, "wait too, too longalready. " They generally took care to be instrumental in fulfilling theirown predictions. They used to tell their wretched employers that some signof the approaching death would take place in the house, such as thebreaking of glass or china; and they paid servants considerable fees tocause a breakage, as if by accident, exactly at the appointed time. Theiroccupation as midwives made them acquainted with the secrets of manyfamilies, which they afterwards turned to dreadful account. 

It is not known how long they had carried on this awful trade before theywere discovered. Detection finally overtook them at the close of the year1679. They were both tried, found guilty, and burned alive on the Place deGrève, on the 22d of February, 1680, after their hands had been boredthrough with a red-hot iron, and then cut off. Their numerous accomplicesin Paris and in the provinces were also discovered and brought to trial. According to some authors, thirty, and to others, fifty of them, chieflywomen, were hanged in the principal cities. 

Lavoisin kept a list of the visitors who came to her house to purchasepoisons. This paper was seized by the police on her arrest, and examinedby the tribunals. Among the names were found those of the Marshal deLuxembourg, the Countess de Soissons, and the Duchess de Bouillon. Themarshal seems only to have been guilty of a piece of discreditable follyin visiting a woman of this description, but the popular voice at the timeimputed to him something more than folly. The author of the _Memoirs ofthe Affairs of Europe since the Peace of Utrecht_, says, "The miserablegang who dealt in poison and prophecy alleged that he had sold himself tothe devil, and that a young girl of the name of Dupin had been poisoned byhis means. Among other stories, they said he had made a contract with thedevil, in order to marry his son to the daughter of the Marquis ofLouvois. To this atrocious and absurd accusation the marshal, who hadsurrendered himself at the Bastille on the first accusation against him, replied with the mingled sentiment of pride and innocence, 'When Mathieude Montmorenci, my ancestor, married the widow of Louis le Gros, he didnot have recourse to the devil, but to the states-general, in order toobtain for the minor king the support of the house of Montmorenci. ' Thisbrave man was imprisoned in a cell six feet and a half long, and histrial, which was interrupted for several weeks, lasted altogether fourteenmonths. No judgment was pronounced upon him. "

The Countess of Soissons fled to Brussels, rather than undergo the risk ofa trial; and was never able to clear herself from the stigma that attachedto her, of having made an attempt to poison the Queen of Spain by doses ofsuccession-powder. The Duchess of Bouillon was arrested, and tried by theChambre Ardente. It would appear, however, that she had nothing to do withthe slow poisons, but had merely endeavoured to pry into the secrets offuturity, and gratify her curiosity with a sight of the devil. One of thepresidents of the Chambre, La Reynie, an ugly little old man, veryseriously asked her whether she had really seen the devil; to which thelady replied, looking him full in the face, "Oh, yes! I see him now. He isin the form of a little ugly old man, exceedingly illnatured, and isdressed in the robes of a Counsellor of State. " M. La Reynie prudentlyrefrained from asking any more questions of a lady with so sharp and readya tongue. The duchess was imprisoned for several months in the Bastille;and nothing being proved against her, she was released at the intercessionof her powerful friends. The severe punishment of criminals of this notemight have helped to abate the fever of imitation among the vulgar;--theircomparative impunity had a contrary tendency. The escape of Penautier, andthe wealthy Cardinal de Bonzy his employer, had the most perniciouseffect. For two years longer the crime continued to rage, and was notfinally suppressed till the stake had blazed, or the noose dangled, forupwards of a hundred individuals. [40]

 [40] Slow poisoning is a crime which has unhappily been revived in England within the last few years, and which has been carried to an extent sufficient to cast a stain upon the national character. The poisoners have been principally women of the lowest class, and their victims have been their husbands or their children. The motive for the crime has in most instances been the basest that can be imagined, --the desire to obtain from burial-clubs to which they subscribed, the premium, or burial-money. A recent enactment, restricting the sale of arsenic and other poisons, will, it is to be hoped, check, if it do not extirpate this abominable crime. --1851. 

[Illustration: PALACE OF WOODSTOCK. ]

HAUNTED HOUSES. 

 Here's a knocking indeed!. .. Knock! knock! knock!. .. Who's there, i' the name o' Beelzebub?. .. Who's there, i' the devil's name? Knock! knock! knock!--Never at quiet?--_Macbeth_. 

Who has not either seen or heard of some house, shut up and uninhabitable, fallen into decay, and looking dusty and dreary, from which, at midnight, strange sounds have been heard to issue--aerial knockings--the rattling ofchains, and the groaning of perturbed spirits?--a house that people havethought it unsafe to pass after dark, and which has remained for yearswithout a tenant, and which no tenant would occupy, even were he paid todo so? There are hundreds of such houses in England at the present day;hundreds in France, Germany, and almost every country of Europe, which aremarked with the mark of fear--places for the timid to avoid, and the piousto bless themselves at, and ask protection from, as they pass--the abodesof ghosts and evil spirits. There are many such houses in London; and ifany vain boaster of the march of intellect would but take the trouble tofind them out and count them, he would be convinced that intellect mustyet make some enormous strides before such old superstitions can beeradicated. 

The idea that such houses exist is a remnant of the witch creed, whichmerits separate notice from its comparative harmlessness, and from itsbeing not so much a madness as a folly of the people. Unlike other notionsthat sprang from the belief in witchcraft, and which we have already dweltupon at sufficient length, it has sent no wretches to the stake or thegibbet, and but a few to the pillory only. 

Many houses have been condemned as haunted, and avoided by the weak andcredulous, from circumstances the most trifling in themselves, and whichonly wanted a vigorous mind to clear up, at once, and dissipate all alarm. A house in Aix-la-Chapelle, a large desolate-looking building, remaineduninhabited for five years, on account of the mysterious knockings thatthere were heard within it at all hours of the day and night. Nobody couldaccount for the noises; and the fear became at last so excessive, that thepersons who inhabited the houses on either side relinquished theirtenancy, and went to reside in other quarters of the town, where there wasless chance of interruption from evil spirits. From being so long withoutan inhabitant, the house at last grew so ruinous, so dingy, and somiserable in its outward appearance, and so like the place that ghostsmight be supposed to haunt, that few persons cared to go past it aftersunset. The knocking that was heard in one of the upper rooms was not veryloud, but it was very regular. The gossips of the neighbourhood assertedthat they often heard groans from the cellars, and saw lights moved aboutfrom one window to another immediately after the midnight bell had tolled. Spectres in white habiliments were reported to have gibed and chatteredfrom the windows; but all these stories could bear no investigation. Theknocking, however, was a fact which no one could dispute, and severalineffectual attempts were made by the proprietor to discover the cause. The rooms were sprinkled with holy water; the evil spirits were commandedin due form, by a priest, to depart thence to the Red Sea; but theknockings still continued, in spite of all that could be done in that way. Accident at last discovered the cause, and restored tranquillity to theneighbourhood. The proprietor, who suffered not only in his mind but inhis pocket, had sold the building at a ruinously small price, to get ridof all future annoyance. The new proprietor was standing in a room on thefirst floor when he heard the door driven to at the bottom with aconsiderable noise, and then fly open immediately, about two inches and nomore. He stood still a minute and watched, and the same thing occurred asecond and a third time. He examined the door attentively, and all themystery was unravelled. The latch of the door was broken, so that it couldnot be fastened, and it swung chiefly upon the bottom hinge. Immediatelyopposite was a window, in which one pane of glass was broken; and when thewind was in a certain quarter, the draught of air was so strong that itblew the door to with some violence. There being no latch, it swung openagain; and when there was a fresh gust, was again blown to. The newproprietor lost no time in sending for a glazier, and the mysteriousnoises ceased for ever. The house was replastered and repainted, and oncemore regained its lost good name. It was not before two or three years, however, that it was thoroughly established in popular favour; and manypersons, even then, would always avoid passing it, if they could reachtheir destination by any other street. 

A similar story is narrated by Sir Walter Scott, in his _Letters onDemonology and Witchcraft_, the hero of which was a gentleman of birth anddistinction, well known in the political world. Shortly after he succeededto his title and estates, there was a rumour among the servants concerninga strange noise that used to be heard at night in the family mansion, andthe cause of which no one could ascertain. The gentleman resolved todiscover it himself, and to watch for that purpose with a domestic who hadgrown old in the family, and who, like the rest, had whispered strangethings about the knocking having begun immediately upon the death of hisold master. These two watched until the noise was heard, and at lasttraced it to a small store-room, used as a place for keeping provisions ofvarious kinds for the family, and of which the old butler had the key. They entered this place, and remained for some time without hearing thenoises which they had traced thither. At length the sound was heard, butmuch lower than it seemed to be while they were farther off, and theirimaginations were more excited. They then discovered the cause withoutdifficulty. A rat, caught in an old-fashioned trap, had occasioned thenoise by its efforts to escape, in which it was able to raise thetrap-door of its prison to a certain height, but was then obliged to dropit. The noise of the fall resounding through the house had occasioned themysterious rumours, which, but for the investigation of the proprietor, would, in all probability, have acquired so bad a name for the dwellingthat no servants would have inhabited it. The circumstance was told to SirWalter Scott by the gentleman to whom it happened. 

[Illustration: SAINT LOUIS. ]

But, in general, houses that have acquired this character have been moreindebted for it to the roguery of living men than to accidents like these. Six monks played off a clever trick of the kind upon that worthy king, Louis, whose piety has procured him in the annals of his own country thedesignation of "the Saint. " Having heard his confessor speak in terms ofwarm eulogy of the goodness and learning of the monks of the order of St. Bruno, he expressed his wish to establish a community of them near Paris. Bernard de la Tour, the superior, sent six of the brethren, and the kinggave them a handsome house to live in in the village of Chantilly. It sohappened that from their windows they had a very fine view of the ancientpalace of Vauvert, which had been built for a royal residence by KingRobert, but deserted for many years. The worthy monks thought the palacewould just suit them; but their modesty was so excessive that they wereashamed to ask the king for a grant of it in due form. This difficulty wasnot to be overcome, and the monks set their ingenuity to work to discoveranother plan. The palace of Vauvert had never laboured under anyimputation upon its character until they became its neighbours; but, somehow or other, it almost immediately afterwards began to acquire a badname. Frightful shrieks were heard to proceed from it at night; blue, red, and green lights were suddenly seen to glimmer from the windows, and assuddenly to disappear; the clanking of chains was heard, and the howlingas of persons in great pain. These disturbances continued for severalmonths, to the great terror of all the country round, and even of thepious King Louis, to whom, at Paris, all the rumours were regularlycarried with whole heaps of additions that accumulated on the way. At lasta great spectre, clothed all in pea-green, with a long white beard and aserpent's tail, took his station regularly at midnight in the principalwindow of the palace, and howled fearfully, and shook his fists at thepassengers. The six monks at Chantilly, to whom all these things were dulynarrated, were exceedingly wrath that the devil should play such anticsright opposite their dwelling, and hinted to the commissioners sent downby Saint Louis to investigate the matter, that if they were allowed toinhabit the palace, they would very soon make a clearance of the evilspirits. The king was quite charmed with their piety, and expressed tothem how grateful he felt for their disinterestedness. A deed wasforthwith drawn up, the royal sign-manual was affixed to it, and thepalace of Vauvert became the property of the monks of St. Bruno. The deedis dated 1259. The disturbances ceased immediately, the lightsdisappeared, and the green ghost (so said the monks) was laid at rest forever under the waves of the Red Sea. [41]

 [41] Garinet, _Histoire de la Magie en France_, p. 75. 

In the year 1580, one Gilles Blacre had taken the lease of a house in thesuburbs of Tours, but repenting him of his bargain with the landlord, Peter Piquet, he endeavoured to prevail upon him to cancel the agreement. Peter, however, was satisfied with his tenant and his terms, and wouldlisten to no compromise. Very shortly afterwards, the rumour was spreadall over Tours that the house of Gilles Blacre was haunted. Gilles himselfasserted that he verily believed his house to be the general rendezvous ofall the witches and evil spirits of France. The noise they made was awful, and quite prevented him from sleeping. They knocked against the wall, howled in the chimneys, broke his window-glass, scattered his pots andpans all over his kitchen, and set his chairs and tables a dancing thewhole night through. Crowds of persons assembled round the house to hearthe mysterious noises: and the bricks were observed to detach themselvesfrom the wall, and fall into the streets upon the heads of those who hadnot said their paternoster before coming out in the morning. These thingshaving continued for some time, Gilles Blacre made his complaint to theCivil Court of Tours, and Peter Piquet was summoned to shew cause why thelease should not be annulled. Poor Peter could make no defence, and thecourt unanimously agreed that no lease could hold good under suchcircumstances, and annulled it accordingly, condemning the unlucky ownerto all the expenses of the suit. Peter appealed to the parliament ofParis; and after a long examination, the parliament confirmed the lease. "Not, " said the judge, "because it has not been fully and satisfactorilyproved that the house is troubled by evil spirits, but that there was aninformality in the proceedings before the Civil Court of Tours, thatrendered its decision null and of no effect. "

A similar cause was tried before the Parliament of Bourdeaux, in the year1595, relative to a house in that city which was sorely troubled by evilspirits. The parliament appointed certain ecclesiastics to examine andreport to them, and on their report in the affirmative that the house washaunted, the lease was annulled, and the tenant absolved from all paymentof rent and taxes. [42]

 [42] Ibid. P. 156. 

One of the best stories of a haunted house is that of the royal palace ofWoodstock, in the year 1649, when the commissioners sent from London bythe Long Parliament to take possession of it, and efface all the emblemsof royalty about it, were fairly driven out by their fear of the devil, and the annoyances they suffered from a roguish cavalier, who played theimp to admiration. The commissioners, dreading at that time no devil, arrived at Woodstock on the 13th of October, 1649. They took up theirlodgings in the late king's apartments--turned the beautiful bedrooms andwithdrawing-rooms into kitchens and sculleries--the council-hall into abrew-house, and made the dining-room a place to keep firewood in. Theypulled down all the insignia of royal state, and treated with the utmostindignity every thing that recalled to their memory the name or themajesty of Charles Stuart. One Giles Sharp accompanied them in thecapacity of clerk, and seconded their efforts, apparently with thegreatest zeal. He aided them to uproot a noble old tree, merely because itwas called the _King's_ Oak, and tossed the fragments into the dining-roomto make cheerful fires for the commissioners. During the first two days, they heard some strange noises about the house, but they paid no greatattention to them. On the third, however, they began to suspect they hadgot into bad company; for they heard, as they thought, a supernatural dogunder their bed, which gnawed their bed-clothes. On the next day, thechairs and tables began to dance, apparently of their own accord. On thefifth day, something came into the bedchamber and walked up and down; andfetching the warming-pan out of the withdrawing-room, made so much noisewith it that they thought five church-bells were ringing in their ears. Onthe sixth day, the plates and dishes were thrown up and down thedining-room. On the seventh, they penetrated into the bedroom in companywith several logs of wood, and usurped the soft pillows intended for thecommissioners. On the eighth and ninth nights, there was a cessation ofhostilities; but on the tenth, the bricks in the chimneys becamelocomotive, and rattled and danced about the floors, and round the headsof the commissioners, all the night long. On the eleventh, the demon ranaway with their breeches; and on the twelfth filled their beds so full ofpewter platters that they could not get into them. On the thirteenthnight, the glass became unaccountably seized with a fit of cracking, andfell into shivers in all parts of the house. On the fourteenth, there wasa noise as if forty pieces of artillery had been fired off, and a showerof pebble-stones, which so alarmed the commissioners that, "struck withgreat horror, they cried out to one another for help. "

They first of all tried the efficacy of prayers to drive away the evilspirits; but these proving unavailing, they began seriously to reflectwhether it would not be much better to leave the place altogether to thedevils that inhabited it. They ultimately resolved, however, to try it alittle longer; and having craved forgiveness of all their sins, betookthemselves to bed. That night they slept in tolerable comfort, but it wasmerely a trick of their tormentor to lull them into false security. When, on the succeeding night, they heard no noises, they began to flatterthemselves that the devil was driven out, and prepared accordingly to takeup their quarters for the whole winter in the palace. These symptoms ontheir part became the signal for renewed uproar among the fiends. On the1st of November, they heard something walking with a slow and solemn paceup and down the withdrawing-room, and immediately afterwards a shower ofstones, bricks, mortar, and broken glass pelted about their ears. On the2d the steps were again heard in the withdrawing-room, sounding to theirfancy very much like the treading of an enormous bear, which continued forabout a quarter of an hour. This noise having ceased, a large warming-panwas thrown violently upon the table, followed by a number of stones andthe jawbone of a horse. Some of the boldest walked valiantly into thewithdrawing-room, armed with swords and pistols; but could discovernothing. They were afraid that night to go to sleep, and sat up, makingfires in every room, and burning candles and lamps in great abundance;thinking that, as the fiends loved darkness, they would not disturb acompany surrounded with so much light. They were deceived, however:buckets of water came down the chimneys and extinguished the fires; andthe candles were blown out, they knew not how. Some of the servants whohad betaken themselves to bed were drenched with putrid ditch-water asthey lay, and arose in great fright, muttering incoherent prayers, andexposing to the wondering eyes of the commissioners their linen alldripping with green moisture, and their knuckles red with the blows theyhad at the same time received from some invisible tormentors. While theywere still speaking, there was a noise like the loudest thunder, or thefiring of a whole park of artillery, upon which they all fell down upontheir knees and implored the protection of the Almighty. One of thecommissioners then arose, the others still kneeling, and asked in acourageous voice, and in the name of God, who was there, and what they haddone that they should be troubled in that manner. No answer was returned, and the noises ceased for a while. At length, however, as thecommissioners said, "the devil came again, and brought with it sevendevils worse than itself. " Being again in darkness, they lighted a candleand placed it in the doorway, that it might throw a light upon the twochambers at once; but it was suddenly blown out, and one commissioner saidthat he had "seen the similitude of a horse's hoof striking the candle andcandlestick into the middle of the chamber, and afterwards making threescrapes on the snuff to put it out. " Upon this, the same person was sobold as to draw his sword; but he asserted positively that he had hardlywithdrawn it from the scabbard before an invisible hand seized hold of itand tugged with him for it, and prevailing, struck him so violent a blowwith the pommel that he was quite stunned. Then the noises began again;upon which, with one accord, they all retired into the presence-chamber, where they passed the night, praying and singing psalms. 

They were by this time convinced that it was useless to struggle anylonger with the powers of evil that seemed determined to make Woodstocktheir own. These things happened on the Saturday night; and being repeatedon the Sunday, they determined to leave the place immediately, and returnto London. By Tuesday morning early, all their preparations werecompleted; and, shaking the dust off their feet, and devoting Woodstockand all its inhabitants to the infernal gods, they finally took theirdeparture. [43]

 [43] Dr. H. More's _Continuation of Glanvil's Collection of Relations in proof of Witchcraft_. 

Many years elapsed before the true cause of these disturbances wasdiscovered. It was ascertained at the Restoration, that the whole was thework of Giles Sharp, the trusty clerk of the commissioners. This man, whose real name was Joseph Collins, was a concealed royalist, and hadpassed his early life within the bowers of Woodstock; so that he knewevery hole and corner of the place, and the numerous trap-doors and secretpassages that abounded in the building. The commissioners, neversuspecting the true state of his opinions, but believing him to berevolutionary to the back-bone, placed the utmost reliance upon him; aconfidence which he abused in the manner above detailed, to his own greatamusement and that of the few cavaliers whom he let into the secret. 

Quite as extraordinary and as cleverly managed was the trick played off atTedworth, in 1661, at the house of Mr. Mompesson, and which is socircumstantially narrated by the Rev. Joseph Glanvil, under the title of_The Demon of Tedworth_, and appended, among other proofs of witchcraft, to his noted work called _Sadducismus Triumphatus_. About the middle ofApril, in the year above mentioned, Mr. Mompesson, having returned to hishouse at Tedworth from a journey he had taken to London, was informed byhis wife, that during his absence they had been troubled with the mostextraordinary noises. Three nights afterwards he heard the noise himself;and it appeared to him to be that of "a great knocking at his doors, andon the outside of his walls. " He immediately arose, dressed himself, tookdown a pair of pistols, and walked valiantly forth to discover thedisturber, under the impression that it must be a robber; but, as he went, the noise seemed to travel before or behind him; and when he arrived atthe door from which he thought it proceeded, he saw nothing, but stillheard "a strange hollow sound. " He puzzled his brains for a long time, andsearched every corner of the house; but discovering nothing, he went tobed again. He was no sooner snug under the clothes than the noise beganagain more furiously than ever, sounding very much like a "thumping anddrumming on the top of his house, and then by degrees going off into theair. "

These things continued for several nights, when it came to therecollection of Mr. Mompesson that some time before he had given ordersfor the arrest and imprisonment of a wandering drummer, who went about thecountry with a large drum, disturbing quiet people and soliciting alms, and that he had detained the man's drum, and that probably the drummer wasa wizard, and had sent evil spirits to haunt his house to be revenged ofhim. He became strengthened in his opinion every day, especially when thenoises assumed, to his fancy, a resemblance to the beating of a drum, "like that at the breaking up of a guard. " Mrs. Mompesson being brought tobed, the devil, or the drummer, very kindly and considerately refrainedfrom making the usual riot; but, as soon as she recovered strength, beganagain "in a ruder manner than before, following and vexing the youngchildren, and beating their bedsteads with so much violence that every oneexpected they would fall in pieces. " For an hour together, as the worthyMr. Mompesson repeated to his wondering neighbours, this infernal drummer"would beat 'Roundheads and Cuckolds, ' the 'Tat-too, ' and several otherpoints of war, as cleverly as any soldier. " When this had lasted longenough, he changed his tactics, and scratched with his iron talons underthe children's bed. "On the 5th of November, " says the Rev. JosephGlanvil, "it made a mighty noise; and a servant observing two boards inthe children's room seeming to move, he bid it give him one of them. Uponwhich the board came (nothing moving it that he saw) within a yard of him. The man added, 'Nay, let me have it in my hand;' upon which the spirit, devil, or drummer pushed it towards him so close that he might touch it. ""This, " continues Glanvil, "was in the day-time, and was seen by a wholeroom full of people. That morning it left a sulphureous smell behind it, which was very offensive. At night the minister, one Mr. Cragg, andseveral of the neighbours came to the house on a visit. Mr. Cragg went toprayers with them, kneeling at the children's bedside, where it thenbecame very troublesome and loud. During prayer-time, the spirit withdrewinto the cock-loft, but returned as soon as prayers were done; and then, in sight of the company, the chairs walked about the room of themselves, the children's shoes were hurled over their heads, and every loose thingmoved about the chamber. At the same time, a bed-staff was thrown at theminister, which hit him on the leg, but so favourably, that a lock of woolcould not have fallen more softly. " On another occasion, the blacksmith ofthe village, a fellow who cared neither for ghost nor devil, slept withJohn the footman, that he also might hear the disturbances and be cured ofhis incredulity, when there "came a noise in the room as if one had beenshoeing a horse, and somewhat came, as it were, with a pair of pincers, "snipping and snapping at the poor blacksmith's nose the greater part ofthe night. Next day it came panting like a dog out of breath; upon whichsome woman present took a bed-staff to knock at it, "which was caughtsuddenly out of her hand and thrown away; and company coming up, the roomwas presently filled with a _bloomy noisome smell_, and was very hot, though without fire, in a very sharp and severe winter. It continued inthe bed, panting and scratching for an hour and a half, and then went intothe next room, where it knocked a little, and seemed to rattle a chain. "

The rumour of these wonderful occurrences soon spread all over thecountry, and people from far and near flocked to the haunted house ofTedworth, to believe or doubt as their natures led them, but all filledwith intense curiosity. It appears, too, that the fame of these eventsreached the royal ear, and that some gentlemen were sent by the king toinvestigate the circumstances, and draw up a report of what they saw orheard. Whether the royal commissioners were more sensible men than theneighbours of Mr. Mompesson, and required more clear and positive evidencethan they, or whether the powers with which they were armed to punish anybody who might be found carrying on this deception frightened theevil-doers, is not certain; but Glanvil himself reluctantly confesses thatall the time they were in the house the noises ceased, and nothing washeard or seen. "However, " says he, "as to the quiet of the house when thecourtiers were there, the intermission may have been accidental, orperhaps the demon was not willing to give so public a testimony of thosetransactions which might possibly convince those who he had rather shouldcontinue in unbelief of his existence. "

As soon as the royal commissioners took their departure, the infernaldrummer recommenced his antics, and hundreds of persons were daily presentto hear and wonder. Mr. Mompesson's servant was so fortunate as not onlyto hear, but to see this pertinacious demon, for it came and stood at thefoot of his bed. "The exact shape and proportion of it he could notdiscover; but he saw a great body, with two red and glaring eyes, which, for some time, were fixed steadily on him, and at length disappeared. "Innumerable were the antics it played. Once it purred like a cat; beat thechildren's legs black and blue; put a long spike into Mr. Mompesson's bed, and a knife into his mother's; filled the porringers with ashes; hid aBible under the grate; and turned the money black in people's pockets. "One night, " said Mr. Mompesson, in a letter to Mr. Glanvil, "there wereseven or eight of these devils in the shape of men, who, as soon as a gunwas fired, would shuffle away into an arbour;" a circumstance which mighthave convinced Mr. Mompesson of the mortal nature of his persecutors, ifhe had not been of the number of those worse than blind, who shut theireyes and refuse to see. 

In the mean time the drummer, the supposed cause of all the mischief, passed his time in Gloucester gaol, whither he had been committed as arogue and a vagabond. Being visited one day by some person from theneighbourhood of Tedworth, he asked what was the news in Wiltshire, andwhether people did not talk a great deal about a drumming in a gentleman'shouse there? The visitor replied that he heard of nothing else; upon whichthe drummer observed, "I have done it; I have thus plagued him; and heshall never be quiet until he hath made me satisfaction for taking away mydrum. " No doubt the fellow, who seems to have been a gipsy, spoke thetruth, and that the gang of which he was a member knew more about thenoises at Mr. Mompesson's house than any body else. Upon these words, however, he was brought to trial at Salisbury for witchcraft; and, beingfound guilty, was sentenced to transportation; a sentence which, for itsleniency, excited no little wonder in that age, when such an accusation, whether proved or not, generally insured the stake or the gibbet. Glanvilsays that the noises ceased immediately the drummer was sent beyond theseas; but that, somehow or other, he managed to return fromtransportation; "by raising storms and affrighting the seamen, it wassaid;" when the disturbances were forthwith renewed, and continued atintervals for several years. Certainly, if the confederates of this rovinggipsy were so pertinacious in tormenting poor weak Mr. Mompesson, theirpertinacity is a most extraordinary instance of what revenge is capableof. It was believed by many, at the time, that Mr. Mompesson himself wasprivy to the whole matter, and permitted and encouraged these tricks inhis house for the sake of notoriety; but it seems more probable that thegipsies were the real delinquents, and that Mr. Mompesson was as muchalarmed and bewildered as his credulous neighbours, whose excitedimaginations conjured up no small portion of these stories, "Which rolled, and as they rolled grew larger visibly. "

Many instances of a similar kind, during the seventeenth century, might begleaned from Glanvil and other writers of that period; but they do notdiffer sufficiently from these to justify a detail of them. The mostfamous of all haunted houses acquired its notoriety much nearer our owntime; and the circumstances connected with it are so curious, and affordso fair a specimen of the easy credulity even of well-informed andsensible people, as to merit a little notice in this chapter. TheCock-Lane Ghost, as it was called, kept London in commotion for aconsiderable time, and was the theme of conversation among the learned andthe illiterate, and in every circle, from that of the prince to that ofthe peasant. 

[Illustration: THE HAUNTED HOUSE IN COCK LANE. ]

At the commencement of the year 1760, there resided in Cock Lane, nearWest Smithfield, in the house of one Parsons, the parish clerk of St. Sepulchre's, a stockbroker, named Kent. The wife of this gentleman haddied in child-bed during the previous year, and his sister-in-law, MissFanny, had arrived from Norfolk to keep his house for him. They soonconceived a mutual affection, and each of them made a will in the other'sfavour. They lived some months in the house of Parsons, who, being a needyman, borrowed money of his lodger. Some difference arose betwixt them, andMr. Kent left the house, and instituted legal proceedings against theparish-clerk for the recovery of his money. 

While this matter was yet pending, Miss Fanny was suddenly taken ill ofthe small-pox; and, notwithstanding every care and attention, she died ina few days, and was buried in a vault under Clerkenwell church. Parsonsnow began to hint that the poor lady had come unfairly by her death, andthat Mr. Kent was accessory to it, from his too great eagerness to enterinto possession of the property she had bequeathed him. Nothing furtherwas said for nearly two years; but it would appear that Parsons was of sorevengeful a character, that he had never forgotten or forgiven hisdifferences with Mr. Kent, and the indignity of having been sued for theborrowed money. The strong passions of pride and avarice were silently atwork during all that interval, hatching schemes of revenge, but dismissingthem one after the other as impracticable, until, at last, a notable onesuggested itself. About the beginning of the year 1762, the alarm wasspread over all the neighbourhood of Cock Lane, that the house of Parsonswas haunted by the ghost of poor Fanny, and that the daughter of Parsons, a girl about twelve years of age, had several times seen and conversedwith the spirit, who had, moreover, informed her, that she had not died ofthe small-pox, as was currently reported, but of poison, administered byMr. Kent. Parsons, who originated, took good care to countenance thesereports; and, in answer to numerous inquiries, said his house was everynight, and had been for two years, in fact, ever since the death of Fanny, troubled by a loud knocking at the doors and in the walls. Having thusprepared the ignorant and credulous neighbours to believe or exaggeratefor themselves what he had told them, he sent for a gentleman of a higherclass in life, to come and witness these extraordinary occurrences. Thegentleman came accordingly, and found the daughter of Parsons, to whom thespirit alone appeared, and whom alone it answered, in bed, tremblingviolently, having just seen the ghost, and been again informed that shehad died from poison. A loud knocking was also heard from every part ofthe chamber, which so mystified the not very clear understanding of thevisitor, that he departed, afraid to doubt and ashamed to believe, butwith a promise to bring the clergyman of the parish and several othergentlemen on the following day, to report upon the mystery. 

On the following night he returned, bringing with him three clergymen, andabout twenty other persons, including two negroes, when, upon aconsultation with Parsons, they resolved to sit up the whole night, andawait the ghost's arrival. It was then explained by Parsons, that althoughthe ghost would never render itself visible to any body but his daughter, it had no objection to answer the questions that might be put to it, byany person present, and that it expressed an affirmation by one knock, anegative by two, and its displeasure by a kind of scratching. The childwas then put into bed along with her sister, and the clergymen examinedthe bed and bed-clothes to satisfy themselves that no trick was played, byknocking upon any substance concealed among the clothes. As on theprevious night, the bed was observed to shake violently. 

[Illustration: ROOM IN THE HAUNTED HOUSE IN COCK LANE. [44]]

 [44] The woman whose ghost was said to manifest itself in Cock Lane was buried in the crypt or cloister of St. John, Clerkenwell. The vault is composed of two aisles, that on the south being much narrower than the other, --it was here she was deposited. 

 About seven years since, I was sketching a picturesque trefoil-headed door leading into this part of the vault; and the place being at that time in great confusion with coffins, remains of bodies, some of which were dried like mummies, &c. , I could find no better seat than one of the coffins. The sexton's boy, who held my light, informed me this was the coffin of _Scratching Fanny_, which recalled the Cock Lane story to my mind. I got off the lid of the coffin, and saw the face of a handsome woman, with an aquiline nose; this feature remaining perfect, an uncommon case, for the cartilage mostly gives way. The remains had become adipocere, and were perfectly preserved. She was said to have been poisoned by deleterious punch, but this was legally disproved; and, if I remember rightly, she was otherwise declared to have died of small-pox; of this disease there was not the least sign; but as some mineral poisons tend to render bodies adipocere, here was some evidence in support of the former allegation. I made particular inquiries at the time of Mr. Bird, churchwarden, a respectable and judicious man; and he gave me good assurance that this coffin had always been looked upon as the one containing the Cock Lane woman. Since that time the vault has been set in order, and the above-mentioned coffin, with others, put away. 

 The niche near the window in the drawing of the Ghost Room is the place where the bed-head was, and where the scratching, knocks, &c. Were heard. This is the tradition of the house. Mrs. King, who holds the premises, informs me that her family has had the house about eighty years. --J. W. ARCHER. 

After some hours, during which they all waited with exemplary patience, the mysterious knocking was heard in the wall, and the child declared thatshe saw the ghost of poor Fanny. The following questions were then gravelyput by the clergyman, through the medium of one Mary Frazer, the servantof Parsons, and to whom it was said the deceased lady had been muchattached. The answers were in the usual fashion, by a knock or knocks:

"Do you make this disturbance on account of the ill-usage you receivedfrom Mr. Kent?"--"Yes. "

"Were you brought to an untimely end by poison?"--"Yes. "

"How was the poison administered, in beer or purl?"--"In purl. "

"How long was that before your death?"--"About three hours. "

"Can your former servant, Carrots, give any information about thepoison?"--"Yes. "

"Are you Kent's wife's sister?"--"Yes. "

"Were you married to Kent after your sister's death?"--"No. "

"Was any body else, besides Kent, concerned in your murder?"--"No. "

"Can you, if you like, appear visibly to any one?"--"Yes. "

"Will you do so?"--"Yes. "

"Can you go out of this house?"--"Yes. "

"Is it your intention to follow this child about every where?"--"Yes. "

"Are you pleased in being asked these questions?"--"Yes. "

"Does it ease your troubled soul?"--"Yes. "

[Here there was heard a mysterious noise, which some wiseacre presentcompared to the fluttering of wings. ]

"How long before your death did you tell your servant, Carrots, that youwere poisoned? An hour?"--"Yes. "

[Carrots, who was present, was appealed to; but she stated positively thatsuch was not the fact, as the deceased was quite speechless an hour beforeher death. This shook the faith of some of the spectators, but theexamination was allowed to continue. ]

"How long did Carrots live with you?"--"Three or four days. "

[Carrots was again appealed to, and said that this was true. ]

"If Mr. Kent is arrested for this murder, will he confess?"--"Yes. "

"Would your soul be at rest if he were hanged for it?"--"Yes. "

"Will he be hanged for it?"--"Yes. "

"How long a time first?"--"Three years. "

"How many clergymen are there in this room?"--"Three. "

"How many negroes?"--"Two. "

"Is this watch (held up by one of the clergymen) white?"--"No. "

"Is it yellow?"--"No. "

"Is it blue?"--"No. "

"Is it black?"--"Yes. "

[The watch was in a black shagreen case. ]

"At what time this morning will you take your departure?"

The answer to this question was four knocks, very distinctly heard byevery person present; and accordingly, at four o'clock precisely the ghosttook its departure to the Wheatsheaf public-house close by, where itfrightened mine host and his lady almost out of their wits, by knocking inthe ceiling right above their bed. 

The rumour of these occurrences very soon spread over London, and everyday Cock Lane was rendered impassable by the crowds of people whoassembled around the house of the parish clerk, in expectation of eitherseeing the ghost or of hearing the mysterious knocks. It was at last foundnecessary, so clamorous were they for admission within the hauntedprecincts, to admit those only who would pay a certain fee, an arrangementwhich was very convenient to the needy and money-loving Mr. Parsons. Indeed, things had taken a turn greatly to his satisfaction; he not onlyhad his revenge, but he made a profit out of it. The ghost, inconsequence, played its antics every night, to the great amusement of manyhundreds of people and the great perplexity of a still greater number. 

Unhappily, however, for the parish clerk, the ghost was induced to makesome promises which were the means of utterly destroying its reputation. It promised, in answer to the questions of the Rev. Mr. Aldritch ofClerkenwell, that it would not only follow the little Miss Parsonswherever she went, but would also attend him, or any other gentleman, intothe vault under St. John's Church, where the body of the murdered womanwas deposited, and would there give notice of its presence by a distinctknock upon the coffin. As a preliminary, the girl was conveyed to thehouse of Mr. Aldritch near the church, where a large party of ladies andgentlemen, eminent for their acquirements, their rank, or their wealth, had assembled. About ten o'clock on the night of the first of February, the girl having been brought from Cock Lane in a coach, was put to bed byseveral ladies in the house of Mr. Aldritch; a strict examination havingbeen previously made that nothing was hidden in the bed-clothes. While thegentlemen in an adjoining chamber were deliberating whether they shouldproceed in a body to the vault, they were summoned into the bedroom by theladies, who affirmed, in great alarm, that the ghost was come, and thatthey heard the knocks and scratches. The gentlemen entered accordingly, with a determination to suffer no deception. The little girl, on beingasked whether she saw the ghost, replied, "No; but she felt it on her backlike a mouse. " She was then required to put her hands out of bed, and theybeing held by some of the ladies, the spirit was summoned in the usualmanner to answer, if it were in the room. The question was several timesput with great solemnity; but the customary knock was not heard in replyin the walls, neither was there any scratching. The ghost was then askedto render itself visible, but it did not choose to grant the request. Itwas next solicited to give some token of its presence by a sound of anysort, or by touching the hand or cheek of any lady or gentleman in theroom; but even with this request the ghost would not comply. 

There was now a considerable pause, and one of the clergymen went downstairs to interrogate the father of the girl, who was waiting the resultof the experiment. He positively denied that there was any deception, andeven went so far as to say that he himself, upon one occasion, had seenand conversed with the awful ghost. This having been communicated to thecompany, it was unanimously resolved to give the ghost another trial; andthe clergyman called out in a loud voice to the supposed spirit, that thegentleman to whom it had promised to appear in the vault was about torepair to that place, where he claimed the fulfilment of its promise. Atone hour after midnight they all proceeded to the church, and thegentleman in question, with another, entered the vault alone, and took uptheir position alongside of the coffin of poor Fanny. The ghost was thensummoned to appear, but it appeared not; it was summoned to knock, but itknocked not; it was summoned to scratch, but it scratched not; and the tworetired from the vault, with a firm belief that the whole business was adeception practised by Parsons and his daughter. There were others, however, who did not wish to jump so hastily to a conclusion, and whosuggested that they were perhaps trifling with this awful and supernaturalbeing, which, being offended with them for their presumption, would notcondescend to answer them. Again, after serious consultation, it wasagreed on all hands that if the ghost answered any body at all, it wouldanswer Mr. Kent, the supposed murderer; and he was accordingly requestedto go down into the vault. He went with several others, and summoned theghost to answer whether he had indeed poisoned her. There being no answer, the question was put by Mr. Aldritch, who conjured it, if it were indeed aspirit, to end their doubts, make a sign of its presence, and point outthe guilty person. There being still no answer for the space of half anhour, during which time all these boobies waited with the mostpraiseworthy perseverance, they returned to the house of Mr. Aldritch, andordered the girl to get up and dress herself. She was strictly examined, but persisted in her statement that she used no deception, and that theghost had really appeared to her. 

So many persons had, by their openly expressed belief of the reality ofthe visitation, identified themselves with it, that Parsons and his familywere far from being the only persons interested in the continuance of thedelusion. The result of the experiment convinced most people; but thesewere not to be convinced by any evidence, however positive, and theytherefore spread abroad the rumour, that the ghost had not appeared in thevault because Mr. Kent had taken care beforehand to have the coffinremoved. That gentleman, whose position was a very painful one, immediately procured competent witnesses, in whose presence the vault wasentered, and the coffin of poor Fanny opened. Their depositions were thenpublished; and Mr. Kent indicted Parsons and his wife, his daughter, MaryFrazer the servant, the Rev. Mr. Moor, and a tradesman, two of the mostprominent patrons of the deception, for a conspiracy. The trial came on inthe Court of King's Bench, on the 10th of July, before Lord Chief-JusticeMansfield, when, after an investigation which lasted twelve hours, thewhole of the conspirators were found guilty. The Rev. Mr. Moor and hisfriend were severely reprimanded in open court, and recommended to makesome pecuniary compensation to the prosecutor for the aspersions they hadbeen instrumental in throwing upon his character. Parsons was sentenced tostand three times in the pillory, and to be imprisoned for two years; hiswife to one year's, and his servant to six months' imprisonment in theBridewell. A printer, who had been employed by them to publish an accountof the proceedings for their profit, was also fined fifty pounds, anddischarged. 

The precise manner in which the deception was carried on has never beenexplained. The knocking in the wall appears to have been the work ofParsons' wife, while the scratching part of the business was left to thelittle girl. That any contrivance so clumsy could have deceived any bodycannot fail to excite our wonder. But thus it always is. If two or threepersons can only be found to take the lead in any absurdity, howevergreat, there is sure to be plenty of imitators. Like sheep in a field, ifone clears the stile, the rest will follow. 

About ten years afterwards, London was again alarmed by the story of ahaunted house. Stockwell, near Vauxhall, the scene of the antics of thisnew ghost, became almost as celebrated in the annals of superstition asCock Lane. Mrs. Golding, an elderly lady, who resided alone with herservant, Anne Robinson, was sorely surprised on the evening ofTwelfth-Day, 1772, to observe a most extraordinary commotion among hercrockery. Cups and saucers rattled down the chimney--pots and pans werewhirled down stairs, or through the windows; and hams, cheeses, and loavesof bread disported themselves upon the floor as if the devil were in them. This, at least, was the conclusion that Mrs. Golding came to; and beinggreatly alarmed, she invited some of her neighbours to stay with her, andprotect her from the evil one. Their presence, however, did not put a stopto the insurrection of china, and every room in the house was in a shorttime strewed with the fragments. The chairs and tables joined, at last, inthe tumult, and things looked altogether so serious and inexplicable, thatthe neighbours, dreading that the house itself would next be seized with afit of motion, and tumble about their ears, left poor Mrs. Golding to bearthe brunt of it by herself. The ghost in this case was solemnlyremonstrated with, and urged to take its departure; but the demolitioncontinuing as great as before, Mrs. Golding finally made up her mind toquit the house altogether. She took refuge with Anne Robinson in the houseof a neighbour; but his glass and crockery being immediately subjected tothe same persecution, he was reluctantly compelled to give her notice toquit. The old lady thus forced back to her own house, endured thedisturbance for some days longer, when suspecting that Anne Robinson wasthe cause of all the mischief, she dismissed her from her service. Theextraordinary appearances immediately ceased, and were never afterwardsrenewed; a fact which is of itself sufficient to point out the realdisturber. A long time afterwards, Anne Robinson confessed the wholematter to the Reverend Mr. Brayfield. This gentleman confided the story toMr. Hone, who has published an explanation of the mystery. Anne, itappears, was anxious to have a clear house, to carry on an intrigue withher lover, and resorted to this trick to effect her purpose. She placedthe china on the shelves in such a manner that it fell on the slightestmotion, and attached horse-hairs to other articles, so that she could jerkthem down from an adjoining room without being perceived by any one. Shewas exceedingly dexterous at this sort of work, and would have proved aformidable rival to many a juggler by profession. A full explanation ofthe whole affair may be found in the _Every-day Book_. 

The latest instance of the popular panic occasioned by a house supposed tobe haunted, occurred in Scotland, in the winter of the year 1838. On the5th of December, the inmates of the farm-house of Baldarroch, in thedistrict of Banchory, Aberdeenshire, were alarmed by observing a greatnumber of sticks, pebble-stones, and clods of earth flying about theiryard and premises. They endeavoured, but in vain, to discover who was thedelinquent; and the shower of stones continuing for five days insuccession, they came at last to the conclusion that the devil and hisimps were alone the cause of it. The rumour soon spread over all that partof the country, and hundreds of persons came from far and near to witnessthe antics of the devils of Baldarroch. After the fifth day, the shower ofclods and stones ceased on the outside of the premises, and the sceneshifted to the interior. Spoons, knives, plates, mustard-pots, rolling-pins, and flat-irons appeared suddenly endued with the power ofself-motion, and were whirled from room to room, and rattled down thechimneys in a manner which nobody could account for. The lid of amustard-pot was put into a cupboard by the servant-girl in the presence ofscores of people, and in a few minutes afterwards came bouncing down thechimney, to the consternation of every body. There was also a tremendousknocking at the doors and on the roof, and pieces of stick andpebble-stones rattled against the windows and broke them. The wholeneighbourhood was a scene of alarm; and not only the vulgar, but personsof education, respectable farmers, within a circle of twenty miles, expressed their belief in the supernatural character of these events, andoffered up devout prayers to be preserved from the machinations of theEvil One. The note of fear being once sounded, the visitors, as isgenerally the case in all tales of wonder, strove with each other whoshould witness the most extraordinary occurrences; and within a week, itwas generally believed in the parishes of Banchory-Ternan, Drumoak, Durris, Kincardine-O'Neil, and all the circumjacent districts of Mearnsand Aberdeenshire, that the devil had been seen in the act of hammeringupon the house-top of Baldarroch. One old man asserted positively that, one night, after having been to see the strange gambols of the knives andmustard-pots, he met the phantom of a great black man, "who wheeled roundhis head with a whizzing noise, making a wind about his ears that almostblew his bonnet off, " and that he was haunted by him in this manner forthree miles. It was also affirmed and believed, that all horses and dogsthat approached this enchanted ground were immediately affected; that agentleman, slow of faith, had been cured of his incredulity by meeting thebutter-churn jumping in at the door as he himself was going out; that theroofs of houses had been torn off, and that several ricks in the corn-yardhad danced a quadrille together, to the sound of the devil's bagpipesre-echoing from the mountain-tops. The women in the family of thepersecuted farmer of Baldarroch also kept their tongues in perpetualmotion; swelling with their strange stories the tide of popular wonder. The goodwife herself, and all her servants, said that, whenever they wentto bed, they were attacked with stones and other missiles, some of whichcame below the blankets and gently tapped their toes. One evening, a shoesuddenly darted across a garret where some labourers were sitting, and oneof the men, who attempted to catch it, swore positively that it was so hotand heavy he was unable to hold it. It was also said that the bearbeater(a sort of mortar used to bruise barley in)--an object of such weight thatit requires several men to move it--spontaneously left the barn and flewover the house-top, alighting at the feet of one of the servant-maids, andhitting her, but without hurting her in the least, or even causing her anyalarm; it being a fact well known to her, that all objects thus thrownabout by the devil lost their specific gravity, and could harm nobody, even though they fell upon a person's head. 

Among the persons drawn to Baldarroch by these occurrences were theheritor, the minister, and all the elders of the Kirk, under whosesuperintendence an investigation was immediately commenced. Theirproceedings were not promulgated for some days; and, in the mean time, rumour continued to travel through all the Highlands, magnifying eachmysterious incident the farther it got from home. It was said, that whenthe goodwife put her potato-pot on the fire, each potato, as the waterboiled, changed into a demon, and grinned horribly at her as she liftedthe lid; that not only chairs and tables, but carrots and turnips, skippedalong the floor in the merriest manner imaginable; that shoes and bootswent through all the evolutions of the Highland fling without any visiblewearers directing their motions; and that a piece of meat detached itselffrom the hook on which it hung in the pantry, and placed itself before thefire, whence all the efforts of the people of the house were unable toremove it until it was thoroughly roasted; and that it then flew up thechimney with a tremendous bang. At Baldarroch itself the belief was notquite so extravagant; but the farmer was so convinced that the devil andhis imps were alone the cause of all the disturbance, that he travelled adistance of forty miles to an old conjuror, named Willie Foreman, toinduce him, for a handsome fee, to remove the enchantment from hisproperty. There were, of course, some sensible and educated people, who, after stripping the stories circulated of their exaggeration, attributedall the rest to one or other of two causes; first, that some gipsies, orstrolling mendicants, hidden in the neighbouring plantation, were amusingthemselves by working on the credulity of the country people; or, secondly, that the inmates of Baldarroch carried on this deceptionthemselves, for some reason or other, which was not very clear to anybody. The last opinion gained but few believers, as the farmer and hisfamily were much respected; and so many persons had, in the most openmanner, expressed their belief in the supernatural agency, that they didnot like to stultify themselves by confessing that they had been deceived. 

At last, after a fortnight's continuance of the noises, the whole trickwas discovered. The two servant lasses were strictly examined, and thencommitted to prison. It appeared that they were alone at the bottom of thewhole affair, and that the extraordinary alarm and credulity of theirmaster and mistress, in the first instance, and of the neighbours andcountry people afterwards, made their task comparatively easy. A littlecommon dexterity was all they had used; and, being themselves unsuspected, they swelled the alarm by the wonderful stories they invented. It was theywho loosened the bricks in the chimneys, and placed the dishes in such amanner on the shelves, that they fell on the slightest motion. In short, they played the same tricks as those used by the servant girl atStockwell, with the same results, and for the same purpose--thegratification of a love of mischief. They were no sooner secured in thecounty gaol than the noises ceased, and most people were convinced thathuman agency alone had worked all the wonder. Some few of the mostdevoutly superstitious still held out in their first belief, and refusedto listen to any explanation. 

These tales of haunted houses, especially those of the last and presentcentury, however they may make us blush for popular folly, are yetgratifying in their results; for they shew that society has made a vastimprovement. Had Parsons and his wife, and the other contrivers of theCock Lane deception, lived two hundred years earlier, they would notperhaps have found a greater number of dupes, but they would have beenhanged as witches, instead of being imprisoned as vagabonds. The ingeniousAnne Robinson and the sly lasses of Baldarroch would doubtless have met asimilar fate. Thus it is pleasant to reflect, that though there may be asmuch folly and credulity in the world as ever in one class of society, there is more wisdom and mercy in another than ever were known before. Lawgivers, by blotting from the statute-book the absurd or sanguinaryenactments of their predecessors, have made one step towards teaching thepeople. It is to be hoped that the day is not far distant when lawgiverswill teach the people by some more direct means, and prevent therecurrence of delusions like these, and many worse, which might be cited, by securing to every child born within their dominions an education inaccordance with the advancing state of civilisation. If ghosts and witchesare not yet altogether exploded, it is the fault, not so much of theignorant people, as of the law and the government that have neglected toenlighten them. 

POPULAR FOLLIES OF GREAT CITIES. 

 La faridondaine--la faridondon, Vive la faridondaine!--_Beranger_. 

[Illustration: T]

The popular humours of a great city are a never-failing source ofamusement to the man whose sympathies are hospitable enough to embrace allhis kind, and who, refined though he may be himself, will not sneer at thehumble wit or grotesque peculiarities of the boozing mechanic, the squalidbeggar, the vicious urchin, and all the motley group of the idle, thereckless, and the imitative that swarm in the alleys and broadways of ametropolis. He who walks through a great city to find subjects forweeping, may find plenty at every corner to wring his heart; but let sucha man walk on his course, and enjoy his grief alone--we are not of thosewho would accompany him. The miseries of us poor earth-dwellers gain noalleviation from the sympathy of those who merely hunt them out to bepathetic over them. The weeping philosopher too often impairs his eyesightby his woe, and becomes unable from his tears to see the remedies for theevils which he deplores. Thus it will often be found that the man of notears is the truest philanthropist, as he is the best physician who wearsa cheerful face, even in the worst of cases. 

So many pens have been employed to point out the miseries, and so many tocondemn the crimes and vices, and more serious follies of the multitude, that ours shall not increase the number, at least in this chapter. Ourpresent task shall be less ungracious, and wandering through the busyhaunts of great cities, we shall seek only for amusement, and note as wepass a few of the harmless follies and whimsies of the poor. 

And, first of all, walk where we will, we cannot help hearing from everyside a phrase repeated with delight, and received with laughter, by menwith hard hands and dirty faces, by saucy butcher lads and errand-boys, byloose women, by hackney coachmen, cabriolet-drivers, and idle fellows wholoiter at the corners of streets. Not one utters this phrase withoutproducing a laugh from all within hearing. It seems applicable to everycircumstance, and is the universal answer to every question; in short, itis the favourite slang phrase of the day, a phrase that, while its briefseason of popularity lasts, throws a dash of fun and frolicsomeness overthe existence of squalid poverty and ill-requited labour, and gives themreason to laugh as well as their more fortunate fellows in a higher stageof society. 

London is peculiarly fertile in this sort of phrases, which spring upsuddenly, no one knows exactly in what spot, and pervade the wholepopulation in a few hours, no one knows how. Many years ago the favouritephrase (for, though but a monosyllable, it was a phrase in itself) wasQuoz. This odd word took the fancy of the multitude in an extraordinarydegree, and very soon acquired an almost boundless meaning. When vulgarwit wished to mark its incredulity, and raise a laugh at the same time, there was no resource so sure as this popular piece of slang. When a manwas asked a favour which he did not choose to grant, he marked his senseof the suitor's unparalleled presumption by exclaiming _Quoz_! When amischievous urchin wished to annoy a passenger, and create mirth for hiscomrades, he looked him in the face, and cried out _Quoz!_ and theexclamation never failed in its object. When a disputant was desirous ofthrowing a doubt upon the veracity of his opponent, and getting summarilyrid of an argument which he could not overturn, he uttered the word_Quoz_, with a contemptuous curl of his lip, and an impatient shrug of hisshoulders. The universal monosyllable conveyed all his meaning, and notonly told his opponent that he lied, but that he erred egregiously if hethought that any one was such a nincompoop as to believe him. Everyalehouse resounded with _Quoz_; every street-corner was noisy with it, andevery wall for miles around was chalked with it. 

But, like all other earthly things, _Quoz_ had its season, and passed awayas suddenly as it arose, never again to be the pet and the idol of thepopulace. A new claimant drove it from its place, and held undisputed swaytill, in its turn, it was hurled from its pre-eminence, and a successorappointed in its stead. 

"_What a shocking bad hat!_" was the phrase that was next in vogue. Nosooner had it become universal, than thousands of idle but sharp eyes wereon the watch for the passenger whose hat shewed any signs, however slight, of ancient service. Immediately the cry arose, and, like the war-whoop ofthe Indians, was repeated by a hundred discordant throats. He was a wiseman who, finding himself under these circumstances "the observed of allobservers, " bore his honours meekly. He who shewed symptoms of ill-feelingat the imputations cast upon his hat, only brought upon himself redoublednotice. The mob soon perceive whether a man is irritable, and, if of theirown class, they love to make sport of him. When such a man, and with sucha hat, passed in those days through a crowded neighbourhood, he mightthink himself fortunate if his annoyances were confined to the shouts andcries of the populace. The obnoxious hat was often snatched from his headand thrown into the gutter by some practical joker, and then raised, covered with mud, upon the end of a stick, for the admiration of thespectators, who held their sides with laughter, and exclaimed, in thepauses of their mirth, "_Oh, what a shocking bad hat!_" "_What a shockingbad hat!_" Many a nervous poor man, whose purse could but ill spare theoutlay, doubtless purchased a new hat before the time, in order to avoidexposure in this manner. 

The origin of this singular saying, which made fun for the metropolis formonths, is not involved in the same obscurity as that which shrouds theorigin of _Quoz_ and some others. There had been a hotly contestedelection for the borough of Southwark, and one of the candidates was aneminent hatter. This gentleman, in canvassing the electors, adopted asomewhat professional mode of conciliating their good-will, and of bribingthem without letting them perceive that they were bribed. Whenever hecalled upon or met a voter whose hat was not of the best material, or, being so, had seen its best days, he invariably said, "_What a shockingbad hat you have got; call at my warehouse, and you shall have a newone!_" Upon the day of election this circumstance was remembered, and hisopponents made the most of it, by inciting the crowd to keep up anincessant cry of "_What a shocking bad hat!_" all the time the honourablecandidate was addressing them. From Southwark the phrase spread over allLondon, and reigned for a time the supreme slang of the season. 

_Hookey Walker_, derived from the chorus of a popular ballad, was alsohigh in favour at one time, and served, like its predecessor _Quoz_, toanswer all questions. In the course of time, the latter word alone becamethe favourite, and was uttered with a peculiar drawl upon the firstsyllable, and a sharp turn upon the last. If a lively servant girl wasimportuned for a kiss by a fellow she did not care about, she cocked herlittle nose, and cried "_Walker!_" If a dustman asked his friend for theloan of a shilling, and his friend was either unable or unwilling toaccommodate him, the probable answer he would receive was, "_Walker!_" Ifa drunken man was reeling about the streets, and a boy pulled hiscoat-tails, or a man knocked his hat over his eyes to make fun of him, thejoke was always accompanied by the same exclamation. This lasted for twoor three months, and "_Walker!_" walked off the stage, never more to berevived for the entertainment of that or any future generation. 

The next phrase was a most preposterous one. Who invented it, how itarose, or where it was first heard, are alike unknown. Nothing about it iscertain, but that for months it was _the_ slang _par excellence_ of theLondoners, and afforded them a vast gratification. "_There he goes withhis eye out!_" or "_There she goes with her eye out!_" as the sex of theparty alluded to might be, was in the mouth of every body who knew thetown. The sober part of the community were as much puzzled by thisunaccountable saying as the vulgar were delighted with it. The wisethought it very foolish, but the many thought it very funny, and the idleamused themselves by chalking it upon walls, or scribbling it uponmonuments. But "all that's bright must fade, " even in slang. The peoplegrew tired of their hobby, and "_There he goes with his eye out!_" washeard no more in its accustomed haunts. 

Another very odd phrase came into repute in a brief space afterwards, inthe form of the impertinent and not universally apposite query, "_Has yourmother sold her mangle?_" But its popularity was not of that boisterousand cordial kind which ensures a long continuance of favour. What tendedto impede its progress was, that it could not be well applied to the olderportions of society. It consequently ran but a brief career, and then sankinto oblivion. Its successor enjoyed a more extended fame, and laid itsfoundations so deep, that years and changing fashions have not sufficed toeradicate it. This phrase was "_Flare up!_" and it is, even now, acolloquialism in common use. It took its rise in the time of the Reformriots, when Bristol was nearly half burned by the infuriated populace. Theflames were said to have _flared up_ in the devoted city. Whether therewas any thing peculiarly captivating in the sound, or in the idea of thesewords, is hard to say; but whatever was the reason, it tickled themob-fancy mightily, and drove all other slang out of the field before it. Nothing was to be heard all over London but "_flare up!_" It answered allquestions, settled all disputes, was applied to all persons, all things, and all circumstances, and became suddenly the most comprehensive phrasein the English language. The man who had overstepped the bounds of decorumin his speech was said to have _flared up_; he who had paid visits toorepeated to the gin-shop, and got damaged in consequence, had _flared up_. To put one's self into a passion; to stroll out on a nocturnal frolic, andalarm a neighbourhood, or to create a disturbance in any shape, was to_flare up_. A lovers' quarrel was a _flare up_; so was a boxing-matchbetween two blackguards in the streets; and the preachers of sedition andrevolution recommended the English nation to _flare up_, like the French. So great a favourite was the word, that people loved to repeat it for itsvery sound. They delighted apparently in hearing their own organsarticulate it; and labouring men, when none who could respond to the callwere within hearing, would often startle the aristocratic echoes of theWest by the well-known slang phrase of the East. Even in the dead hours ofthe night, the ears of those who watched late, or who could not sleep, were saluted with the same sound. The drunkard reeling home shewed that hewas still a man and a citizen, by calling "_flare up!_" in the pauses ofhis hiccough. Drink had deprived him of the power of arranging all otherideas; his intellect was sunk to the level of the brute's; but he clung tohumanity by the one last link of the popular cry. While he couldvociferate that sound, he had rights as an Englishman, and would not sleepin a gutter, like a dog! Onwards he went, disturbing quiet streets andcomfortable people by his whoop, till exhausted nature could support himno more, and he rolled powerless into the road. When, in due timeafterwards, the policeman stumbled upon him as he lay, that guardian ofthe peace turned the full light of his lantern on his face, and exclaimed, "Here's a poor devil who has been _flaring up_!" Then came the stretcher, on which the victim of deep potations was carried to the watch-house, andpitched into a dirty cell, among a score of wretches about as far gone ashimself, who saluted their new comrade by a loud, long shout of _flareup_!

So universal was this phrase, and so enduring seemed its popularity, thata speculator, who knew not the evanescence of slang, established a weeklynewspaper under its name. But he was like the man who built his house uponthe sand; his foundation gave way under him, and the phrase and thenewspaper were washed into the mighty sea of the things that were. Thepeople grew at last weary of the monotony, and "_flare up_" became vulgareven among them. Gradually it was left to little boys who did not know theworld, and in process of time sank altogether into neglect. It is nowheard no more as a piece of popular slang; but the words are still used tosignify any sudden outburst either of fire, disturbance, or ill-nature. 

The next phrase that enjoyed the favour of the million was less concise, and seems to have been originally aimed against precocious youths who gavethemselves the airs of manhood before their time. "_Does your mother knowyou're out?_" was the provoking query addressed to young men of more thanreasonable swagger, who smoked cigars in the streets, and wore falsewhiskers to look irresistible. We have seen many a conceited fellow whocould not suffer a woman to pass him without staring her out ofcountenance, reduced at once into his natural insignificance by the mereutterance of this phrase. Apprentice lads and shopmen in their Sundayclothes held the words in abhorrence, and looked fierce when they wereapplied to them. Altogether the phrase had a very salutary effect, and ina thousand instances shewed young Vanity that it was not half so prettyand engaging as it thought itself. What rendered it so provoking was thedoubt it implied as to the capability of self-guidance possessed by theindividual to whom it was addressed. "_Does your mother know you're out?_"was a query of mock concern and solicitude, implying regret and concernthat one so young and inexperienced in the ways of a great city should beallowed to wander abroad without the guidance of a parent. Hence the greatwrath of those who verged on manhood, but had not reached it, wheneverthey were made the subject of it. Even older heads did not like it; andthe heir of a ducal house, and inheritor of a warrior's name, to whom theywere applied by a cabriolet-driver who was ignorant of his rank, was soindignant at the affront, that he summoned the offender before themagisterial bench. The fellow had wished to impose upon his lordship byasking double the fare he was entitled to; and when his lordship resistedthe demand, he was insultingly asked "if his mother knew he was out?" Allthe drivers on the stand joined in the query, and his lordship was fain toescape their laughter by walking away with as much haste as his dignitywould allow. The man pleaded ignorance that his customer was a lord, butoffended justice fined him for his mistake. 

When this phrase had numbered its appointed days, it died away like itspredecessors, and "_Who are you?_" reigned in its stead. This newfavourite, like a mushroom, seems to have sprung up in a night, or, like afrog in Cheapside, to have come down in a sudden shower. One day it wasunheard, unknown, uninvented; the next it pervaded London. Every alleyresounded with it; every highway was musical with it, "And street to street, and lane to lane flung back The one unvarying cry. "

The phrase was uttered quickly, and with a sharp sound upon the first andlast words, leaving the middle one little more than an aspiration. Likeall its compeers which had been extensively popular, it was applicable toalmost every variety of circumstance. The lovers of a plain answer to aplain question did not like it at all. Insolence made use of it to giveoffence; ignorance to avoid exposing itself; and waggery to createlaughter. Every new comer into an alehouse tap-room was askedunceremoniously, "_Who are you?_" and if he looked foolish, scratched hishead, and did not know what to reply, shouts of boisterous merrimentresounded on every side. An authoritative disputant was not unfrequentlyput down, and presumption of every kind checked by the same query. Whenits popularity was at its height, a gentleman, feeling the hand of a thiefin his pocket, turned suddenly round and caught him in the act, exclaiming, "_Who are you?_" The mob which gathered round applauded to thevery echo, and thought it the most capital joke they had ever heard, thevery acmé of wit, the very essence of humour. Another circumstance of asimilar kind gave an additional fillip to the phrase, and infused new lifeand vigour into it just as it was dying away. The scene occurred in thechief criminal court of the kingdom. A prisoner stood at the bar; theoffence with which he had been charged was clearly proved against him; hiscounsel had been heard, not in his defence, but in extenuation, insistingupon his previous good life and character as reasons for the lenity of thecourt. "And where are your witnesses?" inquired the learned judge whopresided. "Please you, my lord, I knows the prisoner at the bar, and amore honester feller never breathed, " said a rough voice in the gallery. The officers of the court looked aghast, and the strangers tittered withill-suppressed laughter. "_Who are you?_" said the judge, looking suddenlyup, but with imperturbable gravity. The court was convulsed; the titterbroke out into a laugh; and it was several minutes before silence anddecorum could be restored. When the ushers recovered theirself-possession, they made diligent search for the profane transgressor;but he was not to be found. Nobody knew him; nobody had seen him. After awhile the business of the court again proceeded. The next prisoner broughtup for trial augured favourably of his prospects when he learned that thesolemn lips of the representative of justice had uttered the popularphrase as if he felt and appreciated it. There was no fear that such ajudge would use undue severity. His heart was with the people; heunderstood their language and their manners, and would make allowances forthe temptations which drove them into crime. So thought many of theprisoners, if we may infer it from the fact that the learned judgesuddenly acquired an immense increase of popularity. The praise of his witwas in every mouth, and "_Who are you?_" renewed its lease, and remainedin possession of public favour for another term in consequence. 

But it must not be supposed that there were no interregna between thedominion of one slang phrase and another. They did not arise in one longline of unbroken succession, but shared with song the possession ofpopular favour. Thus, when the people were in the mood for music, slangadvanced its claims to no purpose; and when they were inclined for slang, the sweet voice of music wooed them in vain. About thirty years ago Londonresounded with one chorus, with the love of which every body seemed to besmitten. Girls and boys, young men and old, maidens and wives and widows, were all alike musical. There was an absolute mania for singing; and theworst of it was, that, like good Father Philip in the romance of _TheMonastery_, they seemed utterly unable to change their tune. "Cherryripe!" "Cherry ripe!" was the universal cry of all the idle in the town. Every unmelodious voice gave utterance to it; every crazy fiddle, everycracked flute, every wheezy pipe, every street-organ was heard in the samestrain, until studious and quiet men stopped their ears in desperation, orfled miles away into the fields or woodlands to be at peace. This plaguelasted for a twelvemonth, until the very name of cherries became anabomination in the land. At last the excitement wore itself away, and thetide of favour set in a new direction. Whether it was another song or aslang phrase is difficult to determine at this distance of time; butcertain it is, that very shortly afterwards people went mad upon adramatic subject, and nothing was to be heard of but "_Tommy and Jerry_. "Verbal wit had amused the multitude long enough, and they became morepractical in their recreation. Every youth on the town was seized with thefierce desire of distinguishing himself by knocking down the "_charlies_, "being locked up all night in a watch-house, or kicking up a row amongloose women and blackguard men in the low dens of St. Giles's. Imitativeboys vied with their elders in similar exploits, until this unworthypassion (for such it was) had lasted, like other follies, its appointedtime, and the town became merry after another fashion. It was next thoughtthe height of vulgar wit to answer all questions by placing the point ofthe thumb upon the tip of the nose, and twirling the fingers in the air. If one man wished to insult or annoy another, he had only to make use ofthis cabalistic sign in his face, and his object was accomplished. Atevery street-corner where a group was assembled, the spectator who wascurious enough to observe their movements would be sure to see the fingersof some of them at their noses, either as a mark of incredulity, surprise, refusal, or mockery, before he had watched two minutes. There is someremnant of this absurd custom to be seen to this day; but it is thoughtlow even among the vulgar. 

About sixteen years ago, London became again most preposterously musical. The _vox populi_ wore itself hoarse by singing the praises of "The Sea, the Sea!" If a stranger (and a philosopher) had walked through London, andlistened to the universal chorus, he might have constructed a very prettytheory upon the love of the English for the sea-service, and ouracknowledged superiority over all other nations upon that element. "Nowonder, " he might have said, "that this people is invincible upon theocean. The love of it mixes with their daily thoughts; they celebrate iteven in the market-place; their street-minstrels excite charity by it; andhigh and low, young and old, male and female, chant _lo pæans_ in itspraise. Love is not honoured in the national songs of this warlikerace--Bacchus is no god to them; they are men of sterner mould, and thinkonly of 'the Sea, the Sea!' and the means of conquering upon it. "

Such would, doubtless, have been his impression if he had taken theevidence only of his ears. Alas, in those days for the refined ears that_were_ musical! great was their torture when discord, with its thousanddiversities of tone, struck up this appalling anthem--there was no escapefrom it. The migratory minstrels of Savoy caught the strain, and pealed itdown the long vistas of quiet streets, till their innermost and snuggestapartments re-echoed with the sound. Men were obliged to endure thiscrying evil for full six months, wearied to desperation, and made_sea_-sick on the dry land. 

Several other songs sprang up in due succession, afterwards, but none ofthem, with the exception of one, entitled "All round my Hat, " enjoyed anyextraordinary share of favour, until an American actor introduced a vilesong called "Jim Crow. " The singer sang his verses in appropriate costume, with grotesque gesticulations, and a sudden whirl of his body at the closeof each verse. It took the taste of the town immediately, and for monthsthe ears of orderly people were stunned by the senseless chorus--

 "Turn about and wheel about, And do just so-- Turn about and wheel about, And jump, Jim Crow!"

Street-minstrels blackened their faces in order to give proper effect tothe verses; and fatherless urchins, who had to choose between thieving andsinging for their livelihood, took the latter course, as likely to be themore profitable, as long as the public taste remained in that direction. The uncouth dance, its accompaniment, might be seen in its full perfectionon market nights in any great thoroughfare; and the words of the songmight be heard, piercing above all the din and buzz of the ever-movingmultitude. He, the calm observer, who during the hey-day popularity ofthis doggrel, "Sate beside the public way, Thick strewn with summer dust, and saw the stream Of people there was hurrying to and fro, Numerous as gnats upon the evening gleam, "

might have exclaimed with Shelley, that

 "The million, with fierce song and maniac dance, Did rage around. "

The philosophic theorist we have already supposed soliloquising upon theEnglish character, and forming his opinion of it from their exceeding lovefor a sea-song, might, if he had again dropped suddenly into London, haveformed another very plausible theory to account for our unremittingefforts for the abolition of the slave-trade. "Benevolent people!" hemight have said, "how unbounded are your sympathies! Your unhappy brethrenof Africa, differing from you only in the colour of their skins, are sodear to you, and you begrudge so little the twenty millions you have paidon their behalf, that you love to have a memento of them continually inyour sight. Jim Crow is the representative of that injured race, and assuch is the idol of your populace! See how they all sing his praises! howthey imitate his peculiarities! how they repeat his name in their momentsof leisure and relaxation! They even carve images of him to adorn theirhearths, that his cause and his sufferings may never be forgotten! Oh, philanthropic England! oh, vanguard of civilisation!"

Such are a few of the peculiarities of the London multitude, when no riot, no execution, no murder, no balloon, disturbs the even current of theirthoughts. These are the whimsies of the mass--the harmless follies bywhich they unconsciously endeavour to lighten the load of care whichpresses upon their existence. The wise man, even though he smile at them, will not altogether withhold his sympathy, and will say, "Let them enjoytheir slang phrases and their choruses if they will; and if they cannot behappy, at least let them be merry. " To the Englishman, as well as to theFrenchman of whom Beranger sings, there may be some comfort in so small athing as a song, and we may own with him that

 "Au peuple attristé Ce qui rendra la gaîté, C'est la GAUDRIOLE! O gué! C'est la GAUDRIOLE!"

[Illustration: SHERWOOD FOREST. ]

POPULAR ADMIRATION OF GREAT THIEVES. 

 _Jack. _ Where shall we find such another set of practical philosophers, who, to a man, are above the fear of death!

 _Wat. _ Sound men and true!

 _Robin. _ Of tried courage and indefatigable industry!

 _Ned. _ Who is there here that would not die for his friend?

 _Harry. _ Who is there here that would betray him for his interest?

 _Mat. _ Shew me a gang of courtiers that could say as much!

 _Dialogue of Thieves in the Beggar's Opera_. 

Whether it be that the multitude, feeling the pangs of poverty, sympathisewith the daring and ingenious depredators who take away the rich man'ssuperfluity, or whether it be the interest that mankind in general feelfor the records of perilous adventure, it is certain that the populace ofall countries look with admiration upon great and successful thieves. Perhaps both these causes combine to invest their career with charms inthe popular eye. Almost every country in Europe has its traditional thief, whose exploits are recorded with all the graces of poetry, and whosetrespasses

 "Are cited up in rhymes, And sung by children in succeeding tunes. "[45]

 [45] Shakspeare's _Rape of Lucretia_. 

Those travellers who have made national manners and characteristics theirpeculiar study, have often observed and remarked upon this feeling. Thelearned Abbé le Blanc, who resided for some time in England at thecommencement of the eighteenth century, says, in his amusing letters onthe English and French nations, that he continually met with Englishmenwho were not less vain in boasting of the success of their highwaymen thanof the bravery of their troops. Tales of their address, their cunning, ortheir generosity, were in the mouths of every body, and a noted thief wasa kind of hero in high repute. He adds that the mob, in all countries, being easily moved, look in general with concern upon criminals going tothe gallows; but an English mob looked upon such scenes with extraordinaryinterest: they delighted to see them go through their last trials withresolution, and applauded those who were insensible enough to die as theyhad lived, braving the justice both of God and men: such, he might haveadded, as the noted robber Macpherson, of whom the old ballad says:

 "Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he: He played a spring, and danced it round Beneath the gallows tree. "

Among these traditional thieves the most noted in England, or perhaps inany country, is Robin Hood, a name which popular affection has encircledwith a peculiar halo. "He robbed the rich to give to the poor;" and hisreward has been an immortality of fame, a tithe of which would be thoughtmore than sufficient to recompense a benefactor of his species. Romanceand poetry have been emulous to make him all their own; and the forest ofSherwood, in which he roamed with his merry men, armed with their longbows, and clad in Lincoln green, has become the resort of pilgrims, and aclassic spot sacred to his memory. The few virtues he had, which wouldhave ensured him no praise if he had been an honest man, have beenblazoned forth by popular renown during seven successive centuries, andwill never be forgotten while the English tongue endures. His charity tothe poor, and his gallantry and respect for women, have made him thepre-eminent thief of all the world. 

Among English thieves of a later date, who has not heard of Claude Duval, Dick Turpin, Jonathan Wild, and Jack Sheppard, those knights of the roadand of the town, whose peculiar chivalry formed at once the dread and thedelight of England during the eighteenth century? Turpin's fame is unknownto no portion of the male population of England after they have attainedthe age of ten. His wondrous ride from London to York has endeared him tothe imagination of millions; his cruelty in placing an old woman upon afire, to force her to tell him where she had hidden her money, is regardedas a good joke; and his proud bearing upon the scaffold is looked upon asa virtuous action. The Abbé le Blanc, writing in 1737, says he wascontinually entertained with stories of Turpin--how, when he robbedgentlemen, he would generously leave them enough to continue theirjourney, and exact a pledge from them never to inform against him, and howscrupulous such gentlemen were in keeping their word. He was one day tolda story with which the relator was in the highest degree delighted. Turpin, or some other noted robber, stopped a man whom he knew to be veryrich, with the usual salutation--"Your money or your life!" but notfinding more than five or six guineas about him, he took the liberty ofentreating him, in the most affable manner, never to come out so illprovided; adding that, if he fell in with him, and he had no more thansuch a paltry sum, he would give him a good licking. Another story, toldby one of Turpin's admirers, was of a robbery he had committed upon a Mr. C. Near Cambridge. He took from this gentleman his watch, his snuff-box, and all his money but two shillings, and, before he left him, required hisword of honour that he would not cause him to be pursued or brought beforea justice. The promise being given, they both parted very courteously. They afterwards met at Newmarket, and renewed their acquaintance. Mr. C. Kept his word religiously; he not only refrained from giving Turpin intocustody, but made a boast that he had fairly won some of his money backagain in an honest way. Turpin offered to bet with him on some favouritehorse, and Mr. C. Accepted the wager with as good a grace as he could havedone from the best gentleman in England. Turpin lost his bet and paid itimmediately, and was so smitten with the generous behaviour of Mr. C. , that he told him how deeply he regretted that the trifling affair whichhad happened between them did not permit them to drink together. Thenarrator of this anecdote was quite proud that England was the birthplaceof such a highwayman. [46]

 [46] The Abbé, in the second volume, in the letter No. 79, addressed to Monsieur de Buffon, gives the following curious particulars of the robbers of 1737, which are not without interest at this day, if it were only to shew the vast improvement which has taken place since that period. "It is usual in travelling to put ten or a dozen guineas in a separate pocket, as a tribute to the first that comes to demand them the right of passport, which custom has established here in favour of the robbers, who are almost the only highway surveyors in England, has made this necessary; and accordingly the English call these fellows the 'Gentlemen of the Road, ' the government letting them exercise their jurisdiction upon travellers without giving them any great molestation. To say the truth, they content themselves with only taking the money of those who obey without disputing; but notwithstanding their boasted humanity, the lives of those who endeavour to get away are not always safe. They are very strict and severe in levying their impost; and if a man has not wherewithal to pay them, he may run the chance of getting himself knocked on the head for his poverty. 

 "About fifteen years ago, these robbers, with the view of maintaining their rights, fixed up papers at the doors of rich people about London, expressly forbidding all persons, of whatsoever quality or condition, from going out of town without ten guineas and a watch about them, on pain of death. In bad times, when there is little or nothing to be got on the roads, these fellows assemble in gangs, to raise contributions even in London itself, and the watchmen seldom trouble themselves to interfere with them in their vocation. "

Not less familiar to the people of England is the career of Jack Sheppard, as brutal a ruffian as ever disgraced his country, but who has claims uponthe popular admiration which are very generally acknowledged. He did not, like Robin Hood, plunder the rich to relieve the poor, nor rob with anuncouth sort of courtesy, like Turpin; but he escaped from Newgate withthe fetters on his limbs. This achievement, more than once repeated, hasencircled his felon brow with the wreath of immortality, and made himquite a pattern thief among the populace. He was no more than twenty-threeyears of age at the time of his execution, and he died much pitied by thecrowd. His adventures were the sole topics of conversation for months; theprint-shops were filled with his effigies, and a fine painting of him wasmade by Sir Richard Thornhill. The following complimentary verses to theartist appeared in the _British Journal_ of November 28th, 1724:

 "Thornhill! 'tis thine to gild with fame Th' obscure, and raise the humble name; To make the form elude the grave, And Sheppard from oblivion save!

 Apelles Alexander drew-- Cæsar is to Aurelius due; Cromwell in Lilly's works doth shine, And Sheppard, Thornhill, lives in thine!"

This was a very equivocal sort of compliment, and might have meant, thatif Apelles were worthy to paint a monarch, Thornhill was worthy to paint athief. But the artist did not view it in that light, nor did the public;for they considered the verses to be very neat, pointed, and flattering. So high was Jack's fame, that he was thought a very fit subject for thestage; and a pantomime entertainment, called "_Harlequin Jack Sheppard_, "was devised by one Thurmond, and brought out with considerable success atDrury Lane Theatre. All the scenes were painted from nature, including thepublic-house that the robber frequented in Clare Market, and the condemnedcell from which he had made his escape in Newgate. [47]

 [47] Since the publication of the first edition of this volume, Jack Sheppard's adventures have been revived. A novel upon the real or fabulous history of the burglar has afforded, by its extraordinary popularity, a further exemplification of the allegations in the text. The _Sixth Report of the Inspector of Prisons for the Northern Districts of England_ contains a mass of information upon the pernicious effect of such romances, and of the dramas founded upon them. The Inspector examined several boys attending the prison school in the New Bailey at Manchester, from whose evidence the following passages bearing upon the subject are extracted:

 "J. L. (aged 14). The first time I was ever at the theatre was to see _Jack Sheppard_. There were two or three boys near to the house who were going, and they asked me. I took sixpence from the money I used to lay up weekly for clothes. The next time I went, which was the week after, I borrowed the money from a boy; I returned it to him the Saturday after. I then went many times. I took the money from my mother out of her pocket as she was sitting down, and I beside her. There was more than sixpence in her pocket. I got a great love for the theatre, and stole from people often to get there. _I thought this Jack Sheppard was a clever fellow_ for making his escape and robbing his master. _If I could get out of gaol, I think I should be as clever as him_: but, after all his exploits, he got done at last. I have had the book out of a library at Dole Field. I had paid two-pence a book for three volumes. I also got _Richard Turpin_, in two volumes, and paid the same. I have seen _Oliver Twist_, and think the Artful Dodger is very like some of the boys here. I am here for picking a pocket of 25l. 

 "H. C. (aged 15). When we came to Manchester, I went to the play, and saw _Jack Sheppard_ the first night it came out. There were pictures of him about the streets on boards and on the walls; one of them was his picking a pocket in the church. I liked _Jack Sheppard_ much. I had not been in prison there. I was employed in a warehouse at 6s. 6d. A-week, and was allowed 6d. Out of it for myself, and with that I went regularly to the play. I saw _Jack Sheppard_ afterwards four times in one week. I got the money out of my money-bag by stealth, and without my master's knowledge. I once borrowed 10s. In my mother's name from Mrs. ----, a shopkeeper, with whom she used to deal; I went to the play with it. 

 "J. M'D. (aged 15). I have heard of _Jack Sheppard_: a lad whom I know told me of it, who had seen it, and said it was _rare fun_ to see him break out of prison. 

 "J. L. (aged 11). Has been to the play twice, and seen _Jack Sheppard_. Went with his brother the first time, and by himself the second. I took the money to go a second time out of mother's house, off the chimney-piece, where she had left a sixpence. It was the first night _Jack Sheppard_ was played. There was great talk about it, and there were nice pictures about it all over the walls. I thought him a very clever fellow; but Blueskin made the most fun. I first went to the markets, and begun by stealing apples. I also knew a lad, ----, who has been transported, and went with him two or three times. The most I ever got was 10s. Out of a till. "

 The Inspector's _Report on Juvenile Delinquency at Liverpool_ contains much matter of the same kind; but sufficient has been already quoted to shew the injurious effects of the deification of great thieves by thoughtless novelists. 

The Rev. Mr. Villette, the editor of the _Annals of Newgate_, published in1754, relates a curious sermon, which he says a friend of his hearddelivered by a street-preacher about the time of Jack's execution. Theorator, after animadverting on the great care men took of their bodies, and the little care they bestowed upon their souls, continued as follows, by way of exemplifying the position:--"We have a remarkable instance ofthis in a notorious malefactor, well known by the name of Jack Sheppard. What amazing difficulties has he overcome! what astonishing things has heperformed! and all for the sake of a stinking, miserable carcass, hardlyworth the hanging! How dexterously did he pick the chain of his padlockwith a crooked nail! how manfully he burst his fetters asunder, climb upthe chimney, wrench out an iron bar, break his way through a stone wall, make the strong door of a dark entry fly before him, till he got upon theleads of the prison, then, fixing a blanket to the wall with a spike, hestole out of the chapel! How intrepidly did he descend to the top of theturner's house! how cautiously pass down the stair, and make his escape tothe street-door!

"Oh, that ye were all like Jack Sheppard! Mistake me not, my brethren--Idon't mean in a carnal, but in a spiritual sense; for I propose tospiritualise these things. What a shame it would be if we should not thinkit worth our while to take as much pains, and employ as many deep thoughtsto save our souls as he has done to preserve his body!

"Let me exhort ye, then, to open the locks of your hearts with the nail ofrepentance! Burst asunder the fetters of your beloved lusts, mount thechimney of hope, take from thence the bar of good resolution, breakthrough the stone wall of despair, and all the strongholds in the darkentry of the valley of the shadow of death! Raise yourselves to the leadsof divine meditation, fix the blanket of faith with the spike of theChurch, let yourselves down to the turner's house of resignation, anddescend the stairs of humility! So shall you come to the door ofdeliverance from the prison of iniquity, and escape the clutches of thatold executioner the devil!"

Jonathan Wild, whose name has been immortalised by Fielding, was nofavourite with the people. He had none of the virtues which, combined withcrimes, make up the character of the great thief. He was a pitiful fellow, who informed against his comrades, and was afraid of death. This meannesswas not to be forgiven by the crowd; and they pelted him with dirt andstones on his way to Tyburn, and expressed their contempt by everypossible means. How different was their conduct to Turpin and JackSheppard, who died in their neatest attire, with nosegays in theirbutton-holes, and with the courage that a crowd expects. It wasanticipated that the body of Turpin would have been delivered up to thesurgeons for dissection; and the people seeing some men very busilyemployed in removing it, suddenly set upon them, rescued the body, bore itabout the town in triumph, and then buried it in a very deep grave, filledwith quicklime, to hasten the progress of decomposition. They would notsuffer the corpse of their hero--of the man who had ridden from London toYork in four-and-twenty hours--to be mangled by the rude hands ofunmannerly surgeons. 

The death of Claude Duval would appear to have been no less triumphant. Claude was a gentlemanly thief. According to Butler, in the famous ode tohis memory, he

 "Taught the wild Arabs of the road To rob in a more gentle mode; Take prizes more obligingly than those Who never had been bred _filous_; And how to hang in a more graceful fashion Than e'er was known before to the dull English nation. "

In fact, he was the pink of politeness, and his gallantry to the fair sexwas proverbial. When he was caught at last, pent in "stone walls andchains and iron grates, " their grief was in proportion to his rare meritsand his great fame. Butler says, that to his dungeon

 "Came ladies from all parts, To offer up close prisoners their hearts. Which he received as tribute due--

 * * * * *

 Never did bold knight to relieve Distressed dames, such dreadful feats achieve, As feeble damsels for his sake Would have been proud to undertake, And, bravely ambitious to redeem The world's loss and their own, Strove who should have the honour to lay down, And change a life with him. "

Among the noted thieves of France, there is none to compare with thefamous Aimerigot Têtenoire, who flourished in the reign of Charles VI. This fellow was at the head of four or five hundred men, and possessed twovery strong castles in Limousin and Auvergne. There was a good deal of thefeudal baron about him, although he possessed no revenues but such as theroad afforded him. At his death he left a singular will. "I give andbequeath, " said the robber, "one thousand five hundred francs to St. George's Chapel, for such repairs as it may need; to my sweet girl, who soloyally loved me, I give two thousand five hundred; and the surplus I giveto my companions. I hope they will all live as brothers, and divide itamicably among them. If they cannot agree, and the devil of contentiongets among them, it is no fault of mine; and I advise them to get a goodstrong sharp axe, and break open my strong box. Let them scramble for whatit contains, and the devil seize the hindmost. " The people of Auvergnestill recount with admiration the daring feats of this brigand. 

Of later years, the French thieves have been such unmitigated scoundrelsas to have left but little room for popular admiration. The famousCartouche, whose name has become synonymous with ruffian in theirlanguage, had none of the generosity, courtesy, and devoted bravery whichare so requisite to make a robber-hero. He was born at Paris, towards theend of the seventeenth century, and broken alive on the wheel in November1727. He was, however, sufficiently popular to have been pitied at hisdeath, and afterwards to have formed the subject of a much-admired drama, which bore his name, and was played with great success in all the theatresof France during the years 1734, 5, and 6. In our own day the French havebeen more fortunate in a robber; Vidocq bids fair to rival the fame ofTurpin and Jack Sheppard. Already he has become the hero of many anapocryphal tale--already his compatriots boast of his manifoldachievements, and express their doubts whether any other country in Europecould produce a thief so clever, so accomplished, so gentlemanly, asVidocq. 

Germany has its Schinderhannes, Hungary its Schubry, and Italy and Spain awhole host of brigands, whose names and exploits are familiar as householdwords in the mouths of the children and populace of those countries. 

The Italian banditti are renowned over the world; and many of them are notonly very religious (after a fashion) but very charitable. Charity fromsuch a source is so unexpected, that the people doat upon them for it. Oneof them, when he fell into the hands of the police, exclaimed, as they ledhim away, "Ho fatto più carità!"--"I have given away more in charity thanany three convents in these provinces. " And the fellow spoke truth. 

In Lombardy, the people cherish the memory of two notorious robbers, whoflourished about two centuries ago under the Spanish government. Theirstory, according to Macfarlane, is contained in a little book well knownto all the children of the province, and read by them with much more gustothan their Bibles. 

Schinderhannes, the robber of the Rhine, is a great favourite on the banksof the river which he so long kept in awe. Many amusing stories arerelated by the peasantry[48] of the scurvy tricks he played off upon richJews, or too-presuming officers of justice--of his princely generosity, and undaunted courage. In short, they are proud of him, and would no moreconsent to have the memory of his achievements dissociated from theirriver than they would have the rock of Ehrenbreitstein blown to atoms bygunpowder. 

 [48] For a full account of this noted robber, and indeed of European thieves and banditti in general, see the very amusing work upon the subject by Mr. Charles Macfarlane. 

There is another robber-hero, of whose character and exploits the peopleof Germany speak admiringly. Mausch Nadel was captain of a considerableband that infested the Rhine, Switzerland, Alsatia, and Lorraine, duringthe years 1824, 5, and 6. Like Jack Sheppard, he endeared himself to thepopulace by his most hazardous escape from prison. Being confined atBremen, in a dungeon on the third story of the prison of that town, hecontrived to let himself down without exciting the vigilance of thesentinels, and to swim across the Weser, though heavily laden with irons. When about half-way over, he was espied by a sentinel, who fired at him, and shot him in the calf of the leg: but the undaunted robber struck outmanfully, reached the shore, and was out of sight before the officers ofjustice could get ready their boats to follow him. He was captured againin 1826, tried at Mayence, and sentenced to death. He was a tall, strong, handsome man, and his fate, villain as he was, excited much sympathy allover Germany. The ladies especially were loud in their regret that nothingcould be done to save a hero so good-looking, and of adventures soromantic, from the knife of the headsman. 

Mr. Charles Macfarlane, in speaking of Italian banditti, remarks, that theabuses of the Catholic religion, with its confessions and absolutions, have tended to promote crime of this description. But he adds more truly, that priests and monks have not done half the mischief which has beenperpetrated by ballad-mongers and story-tellers. If he had saidplaywrights also, the list would have been complete. In fact, the theatre, which can only expect to prosper, in a pecuniary sense, by pandering tothe tastes of the people, continually recurs to the annals of thieves andbanditti for its most favourite heroes. These theatrical robbers, withtheir picturesque attire, wild haunts, jolly, reckless, devil-may-caremanners, take a wonderful hold upon the imagination, and whatever theiradvocates may say to the contrary, exercise a very pernicious influenceupon public morals. In the Memoirs of the Duke of Guise upon theRevolution of Naples in 1647 and 1648, it is stated, that the manners, dress, and mode of life of the Neapolitan banditti were rendered socaptivating upon the stage, that the authorities found it absolutelynecessary to forbid the representation of dramas in which they figured, and even to prohibit their costume at the masquerades. So numerous werethe banditti at this time, that the duke found no difficulty in raising anarmy of them, to aid him in his endeavours to seize on the throne ofNaples. He thus describes them:[49] "They were three thousand five hundredmen, of whom the oldest came short of five-and-forty years, and theyoungest was above twenty. They were all tall and well made, with longblack hair, for the most part curled; coats of black Spanish leather, withsleeves of velvet, or cloth of gold; cloth breeches with gold lace, mostof them scarlet; girdles of velvet, laced with gold, with two pistols oneach side; a cutlass hanging at a belt, suitably trimmed, three fingersbroad and two feet long; a hawking-bag at their girdle, and a powder-flaskhung about their neck with a great silk riband. Some of them carriedfirelocks, and others blunderbusses; they had all good shoes, with silkstockings, and every one a cap of cloth of gold, or cloth of silver, ofdifferent colours, on his head, which was very delightful to the eye. "

 [49] See also _Foreign Quarterly Review_, vol. Iv. P. 398. 

_The Beggar's Opera_, in our own country, is another instance of theadmiration that thieves excite upon the stage. Of the extraordinarysuccess of this piece, when first produced, the following account is givenin the notes to _The Dunciad_, and quoted by Johnson in his _Lives of thePoets_: "This piece was received with greater applause than was everknown. Besides being acted in London sixty-three days withoutinterruption, and renewed the next season with equal applause, it spreadinto all the great towns of England; was played in many places to thethirtieth and fortieth time; at Bath and Bristol, &c. Fifty. It made itsprogress into Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, where it was performedtwenty-four days successively. The ladies carried about with them thefavourite songs of it in fans, and houses were furnished with it inscreens. The fame of it was not confined to the author only. The personwho acted Polly, till then obscure, became all at once the favourite ofthe town;[50] her pictures were engraved and sold in great numbers; herlife written, books of letters and verses to her published, and pamphletsmade even of her sayings and jests. Furthermore, it drove out of England, for that season, the Italian Opera, which had carried all before it forten years. " Dr. Johnson, in his life of the author, says, that Herring, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, censured the opera, as givingencouragement, not only to vice, but to crimes, by making the highwaymanthe hero, and dismissing him at last unpunished; and adds, that it waseven said, that after the exhibition the gangs of robbers were evidentlymultiplied. The Doctor doubts the assertion, giving as his reason thathighwaymen and housebreakers seldom frequent the playhouse, and that itwas not possible for any one to imagine that he might rob with safety, because he saw Macheath reprieved upon the stage. But if Johnson hadwished to be convinced, he might very easily have discovered thathighwaymen and housebreakers did frequent the theatre, and that nothingwas more probable than that a laughable representation of successfulvillany should induce the young and the already vicious to imitate it. Besides, there is the weighty authority of Sir John Fielding, the chiefmagistrate of Bow Street, who asserted positively, and proved hisassertion by the records of his office, that the number of thieves wasgreatly increased at the time when that opera was so popular. 

 [50] Lavinia Fenton, afterwards Duchess of Bolton. 

We have another instance of the same result much nearer our own times. Schiller's _Räuber_, that wonderful play, written by a green youth, perverted the taste and imagination of all the young men in Germany. Anaccomplished critic of our own country (Hazlitt), speaking of this play, says it was the first he ever read, and such was the effect it produced onhim, that "it stunned him, like a blow. " After the lapse offive-and-twenty years, he could not forget it; it was still, to use hisown words, "an old dweller in the chambers of his brain, " and he had noteven then recovered enough from it to describe how it was. Thehigh-minded, metaphysical thief, its hero, was so warmly admired, thatseveral raw students, longing to imitate a character they thought sonoble, actually abandoned their homes and their colleges, and betookthemselves to the forests and the wilds to levy contributions upontravellers. They thought they would, like Moor, plunder the rich, anddeliver eloquent soliloquies to the setting sun or the rising moon;relieve the poor when they met them, and drink flasks of Rhenish withtheir free companions in rugged mountain passes, or in tents in thethicknesses of the forests. But a little experience wonderfully cooledtheir courage; they found that real, everyday robbers were very unlike theconventional banditti of the stage, and that three months in prison, withbread and water for their fare, and damp straw to lie upon, was very wellto read about by their own firesides, but not very agreeable to undergo intheir own proper persons. 

Lord Byron, with his soliloquising, high-souled thieves, has, in a slightdegree, perverted the taste of the juvenile rhymers of his country. Asyet, however, they have shewn more good sense than their fellows ofGermany, and have not taken to the woods or the highways. Much as theyadmire Conrad the Corsair, they will not go to sea, and hoist the blackflag for him. By words only, and not by deeds, they testify theiradmiration, and deluge the periodicals and music-shops of the land withverses describing pirates' and bandits' brides, and robber adventures ofevery kind. 

But it is the playwright who does most harm; and Byron has fewer sins ofthis nature to answer for than Gay or Schiller. With the aid of scenery, fine dresses and music, and the very false notions they convey, theyvitiate the public taste, not knowing, "Vulgaires rimeurs! Quelle force ont les arts pour demolir les moeurs. "

In the penny theatres that abound in the poor and populous districts ofLondon, and which are chiefly frequented by striplings of idle anddissolute habits, tales of thieves and murderers are more admired, anddraw more crowded audiences, than any other species of representation. There the footpad, the burglar, and the highwayman are portrayed in theirnatural colours, and give pleasant lessons in crime to their delightedlisteners. There the deepest tragedy and the broadest farce arerepresented in the career of the murderer and the thief, and are applaudedin proportion to their depth and their breadth. There, whenever a crime ofunusual atrocity is committed, it is brought out afresh, with all itsdisgusting incidents copied from the life, for the amusement of those whowill one day become its imitators. 

With the mere reader the case is widely different; and most people have apartiality for knowing the adventures of noted rogues. Even in fictionthey are delightful: witness the eventful story of Gil Blas de Santillane, and of that great rascal Don Guzman d'Alfarache. Here there is no fear ofimitation. Poets, too, without doing mischief, may sing of such heroeswhen they please, wakening our sympathies for the sad fate of JemmyDawson, or Gilderoy, or Macpherson the Dauntless; or celebrating inundying verse the wrongs and the revenge of the great thief of Scotland, Rob Roy. If, by the music of their sweet rhymes, they can convince theworld that such heroes are but mistaken philosophers, born a few ages toolate, and having both a theoretical and practical love for

 "The good old rule, the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, That they should keep who can;"

the world may perhaps become wiser, and consent to some betterdistribution of its good things, by means of which thieves may becomereconciled to the age, and the age to them. The probability, however, seems to be, that the charmers will charm in vain, charm they ever sowisely. 

[Illustration: FIGHT BETWEEN DU GUESCLIN AND TROUSSEL. ]

DUELS AND ORDEALS. 

 There was an ancient sage philosopher, Who swore the world, as he could prove, Was mad of fighting. --_Hudibras_. 

Most writers, in accounting for the origin of duelling, derive it from thewarlike habits of those barbarous nations who overran Europe in the earlycenturies of the Christian era, and who knew no mode so effectual forsettling their differences as the point of the sword. In fact, duelling, taken in its primitive and broadest sense, means nothing more thancombating, and is the universal resort of all wild animals, including man, to gain or defend their possessions, or avenge their insults. Two dogs whotear each other for a bone, or two bantams fighting on a dunghill for thelove of some beautiful hen, or two fools on Wimbledon Common, shooting ateach other to satisfy the laws of offended honour, stand on the samefooting in this respect, and are each and all mere duellists. Ascivilisation advanced, the best-informed men naturally grew ashamed ofsuch a mode of adjusting disputes, and the promulgation of some sort oflaws for obtaining redress for injuries was the consequence. Still therewere many cases in which the allegations of an accuser could not berebutted by any positive proof on the part of the accused; and in allthese, which must have been exceedingly numerous in the early stages ofEuropean society, the combat was resorted to. From its decision there wasno appeal. God was supposed to nerve the arm of the combatant whose causewas just, and to grant him the victory over his opponent. As Montesquieuwell remarks, [51] this belief was not unnatural among a people justemerging from barbarism. Their manners being wholly warlike, the mandeficient in courage, the prime virtue of his fellows, was notunreasonably suspected of other vices besides cowardice, which isgenerally found to be co-existent with treachery. He, therefore, whoshewed himself most valiant in the encounter was absolved by publicopinion from any crime with which he might be charged. As a necessaryconsequence, society would have been reduced to its original elements, ifthe men of thought, as distinguished from the men of action, had notdevised some means for taming the unruly passions of their fellows. Withthis view, governments commenced by restricting within the narrowestpossible limits the cases in which it was lawful to prove or deny guilt bythe single combat. By the law of Gondebaldus king of the Burgundians, passed in the year 501, the proof by combat was allowed in all legalproceedings in lieu of swearing. In the time of Charlemagne, theBurgundian practice had spread over the empire of the Francs, and not onlythe suitors for justice, but the witnesses, and even the judges, wereobliged to defend their cause, their evidence, or their decision at thepoint of the sword. Louis the Debonnaire, his successor, endeavoured toremedy the growing evil by permitting the duel only in appeals of felony, in civil cases, or issue joined in a writ of right, and in cases of thecourt of chivalry, or attacks upon a man's knighthood. None were exemptfrom these trials but women, the sick and the maimed, and persons underfifteen or above sixty years of age. Ecclesiastics were allowed to producechampions in their stead. This practice in the course of time extended toall trials of civil and criminal cases, which had to be decided by battle. 

 [51] _Esprit des Loix_, liv. Xxviii. Chap. Xvii. 

The clergy, whose dominion was an intellectual one, never approved of asystem of jurisprudence which tended so much to bring all things under therule of the strongest arm. From the first they set their faces againstduelling, and endeavoured, as far as the prejudices of their age wouldallow them, to curb the warlike spirit, so alien from the principles ofreligion. In the Council of Valentia, and afterwards in the Council ofTrent, they excommunicated all persons engaged in duelling; and not onlythem, but even the assistants and spectators, declaring the custom to behellish and detestable, and introduced by the devil for the destructionboth of body and soul. They added also, that princes who connived at duelsshould be deprived of all temporal power, jurisdiction, and dominion overthe places where they had permitted them to be fought. It will be seenhereafter that this clause only encouraged the practice which it wasintended to prevent. 

But it was the blasphemous error of these early ages to expect that theAlmighty, whenever he was called upon, would work a miracle in favour of aperson unjustly accused. The priesthood, in condemning the duel, did notcondemn the principle on which it was founded. They still encouraged thepopular belief of divine interference in all the disputes or differencesthat might arise among nations or individuals. It was the very sameprinciple that regulated the ordeals, which with all their influence theysupported against the duel. By the former, the power of deciding the guiltor innocence was vested wholly in their hands; while by the latter theyenjoyed no power or privilege at all. It is not to be wondered at that, for this reason, if for no other, they should have endeavoured to settleall differences by the peaceful mode. While that prevailed, they were, asthey wished to be, the first party in the state; but while the strong armof individual prowess was allowed to be the judge in all doubtful cases, their power and influence became secondary to those of the nobility. 

Thus it was not the mere hatred of bloodshed which induced them to launchthe thunderbolts of excommunication against the combatants: it was adesire to retain the power, which, to do them justice, they were in thosetimes the persons best qualified to wield. The germs of knowledge andcivilisation lay within the bounds of their order; for they were therepresentatives of the intellectual, as the nobility were of the physicalpower of man. To centralise this power in the Church, and make it thejudge of the last resort in all appeals, both in civil and criminal cases, they instituted five modes of trial, the management of which lay wholly intheir hands. These were, the oath upon the evangelists; the ordeal of thecross and the fire ordeal, for persons in the higher ranks; the waterordeal, for the humbler classes; and, lastly, the _corsned_, or bread andcheese ordeal, for members of their own body. 

The oath upon the evangelists was taken in the following manner. Theaccused who was received to this proof, says Paul Hay, Count du Chastelet, in his _Memoirs of Bertrand du Guesclin_, swore upon a copy of the NewTestament, and on the relics of the holy martyrs, or on their tombs, thathe was innocent of the crime imputed to him. He was also obliged to findtwelve persons of acknowledged probity who should take oath at the sametime that they believed him innocent. This mode of trial led to very greatabuses, especially in cases of disputed inheritance, where the hardestswearer was certain of the victory. This abuse was one of the principalcauses which led to the preference given to the trial by battle. It is notat all surprising that a feudal baron, or captain of the early ages, should have preferred the chances of a fair fight with his opponent to amode by which firm perjury would always be successful. 

The trial by, or judgment of, the cross, which Charlemagne begged his sonsto have recourse to, in case of disputes arising between them, wasperformed thus:--When a person accused of any crime had declared hisinnocence upon oath, and appealed to the cross for its judgment in hisfavour, he was brought into the church, before the altar. The priestspreviously prepared two sticks exactly like one another, upon one of whichwas carved a figure of the cross. They were both wrapped up with greatcare and many ceremonies, in a quantity of fine wool, and laid upon thealtar, or on the relics of the saints. A solemn prayer was then offered upto God, that he would be pleased to discover, by the judgment of his holycross, whether the accused person were innocent or guilty. A priest thenapproached the altar, and took up one of the sticks, and the assistantsunswathed it reverently. If it was marked with the cross, the accusedperson was innocent; if unmarked, he was guilty. It would be unjust toassert, that the judgments thus delivered were, in all cases, erroneous;and it would be absurd to believe that they were left altogether tochance. Many true judgments were doubtless given, and, in all probability, most conscientiously; for we cannot but believe that the priestsendeavoured beforehand to convince themselves by secret inquiry and astrict examination of the circumstances, whether the appellant wereinnocent or guilty, and that they took up the crossed or uncrossed stickaccordingly. Although, to all other observers, the sticks, as enfolded inthe wool, might appear exactly similar, those who enwrapped them could, without any difficulty, distinguish the one from the other. 

By the fire-ordeal the power of deciding was just as unequivocally left intheir hands. It was generally believed that fire would not burn theinnocent, and the clergy, of course, took care that the innocent, or suchas it was their pleasure or interest to declare so, should be so warnedbefore undergoing the ordeal, as to preserve themselves without anydifficulty from the fire. One mode of ordeal was to place red-hotploughshares on the ground at certain distances, and then, blindfoldingthe accused person, make him walk barefooted over them. If he steppedregularly in the vacant spaces, avoiding the fire, he was adjudgedinnocent; if he burned himself, he was declared guilty. As none but theclergy interfered with the arrangement of the ploughshares, they couldalways calculate beforehand the result of the ordeal. To find a personguilty, they had only to place them at irregular distances, and theaccused was sure to tread upon one of them. When Emma, the wife of KingEthelred, and mother of Edward the Confessor, was accused of a guiltyfamiliarity with Alwyn Bishop of Winchester, she cleared her character inthis manner. The reputation, not only of their order, but of a queen, being at stake, a verdict of guilty was not to be apprehended from anyploughshares which priests had the heating of. This ordeal was called the_Judicium Dei_, and sometimes the _Vulgaris Purgatio_, and might also betried by several other methods. One was to hold in the hand, unhurt, apiece of red-hot iron, of the weight of one, two, or three pounds. When weread not only that men with hard hands, but women of softer and moredelicate skin, could do this with impunity, we must be convinced that thehands were previously rubbed with some preservative, or that theapparently hot iron was merely cold iron painted red. Another mode was toplunge the naked arm into a caldron of boiling water. The priests thenenveloped it in several folds of linen and flannel, and kept the patientconfined within the church, and under their exclusive care, for threedays. If, at the end of that time, the arm appeared without a scar, theinnocence of the accused person was firmly established. [52]

 [52] Very similar to this is the fire-ordeal of the modern Hindoos, which is thus described in Forbes's _Oriental Memoirs_, vol. I. C. Xi. :--"When a man, accused of a capital crime, chooses to undergo the ordeal trial, he is closely confined for several days; his right hand and arm are covered with thick wax-cloth, tied up and sealed, in the presence of proper officers, to prevent deceit. In the English districts the covering was always sealed with the Company's arms, and the prisoner placed under an European guard. At the time fixed for the ordeal, a caldron of oil is placed over a fire; when it boils, a piece of money is dropped into the vessel; the prisoner's arm is unsealed and washed in the presence of his judges and accusers. During this part of the ceremony the attendant Brahmins supplicate the Deity. On receiving their benediction, the accused plunges his hand into the boiling fluid, and takes out the coin. The arm is afterwards again sealed up until the time appointed for a re-examination. The seal is then broken; if no blemish appears, the prisoner is declared innocent; if the contrary, he suffers the punishment due to his crime. ". .. On this trial the accused thus addresses the element before plunging his hand into the boiling oil:--"Thou, O fire! pervadest all things. O cause of purity! who givest evidence of virtue and of sin, declare the truth in this my hand!" If no juggling were practised, the decisions by this ordeal would be all the same way; but as some are by this means declared guilty, and others innocent, it is clear that the Brahmins, like the Christian priests of the middle ages, practise some deception in saving those whom they wish to be thought guiltless. 

As regards the water-ordeal, the same trouble was not taken. It was atrial only for the poor and humble, and, whether they sank or swam, wasthought of very little consequence. Like the witches of more modern times, the accused were thrown into a pond or river; if they sank, and weredrowned, their surviving friends had the consolation of knowing that theywere innocent; if they swam, they were guilty. In either case society wasrid of them. 

But of all the ordeals, that which the clergy reserved for themselves wasthe one least likely to cause any member of their corps to be declaredguilty. The most culpable monster in existence came off clear when triedby this method. It was called the _Corsned_, and was thus performed. Apiece of barley bread and a piece of cheese were laid upon the altar, andthe accused priest, in his full canonicals, and surrounded by all thepompous adjuncts of Roman ceremony, pronounced certain conjurations, andprayed with great fervency for several minutes. The burden of the prayerwas, that if he were guilty of the crime laid to his charge, God wouldsend his angel Gabriel to stop his throat, that he might not be able toswallow the bread and cheese. There is no instance upon record of a priesthaving been choked in this manner. [53]

 [53] An ordeal very like this is still practised in India. Consecrated rice is the article chosen, instead of bread and cheese. Instances are not rare in which, through the force of imagination, guilty persons are not able to swallow a single grain. Conscious of their crime, and fearful of the punishment of Heaven, they feel a suffocating sensation in their throat when they attempt it, and they fall on their knees, and confess all that is laid to their charge. The same thing, no doubt, would have happened with the bread and cheese of the Roman Church, if it had been applied to any others but ecclesiastics. The latter had too much wisdom to be caught in a trap of their own setting. 

When, under Pope Gregory VII. , it was debated whether the Gregorian chantshould be introduced into Castile, instead of the Musarabic, given by St. Isidore of Seville to the churches of that kingdom, very much ill feelingwas excited. The churches refused to receive the novelty, and it wasproposed that the affair should be decided by a battle between twochampions, one chosen from each side. The clergy would not consent to amode of settlement which they considered impious, but had no objection totry the merits of each chant by the fire-ordeal. A great fire wasaccordingly made, and a book of the Gregorian and one of the Musarabicchant were thrown into it, that the flames might decide which was mostagreeable to God by refusing to burn it. Cardinal Baronius, who says hewas an eye-witness of the miracle, relates, that the book of the Gregorianchant was no sooner laid upon the fire, than it leaped out uninjured, visibly, and with a great noise. Every one present thought that the saintshad decided in favour of Pope Gregory. After a slight interval, the firewas extinguished; but, wonderful to relate! the other book of St. Isidorewas found covered with ashes, but not injured in the slightest degree. Theflames had not even warmed it. Upon this it was resolved, that both werealike agreeable to God, and that they should be used by turns in all thechurches of Seville. [54]

 [54] _Histoire de Messire Bertrand du Guesclin_, par Paul Hay du Chastelet, liv. I. Ch. Xix. 

If the ordeals had been confined to questions like this, the laity wouldhave had little or no objection to them; but when they were introduced asdecisive in all the disputes that might arise between man and man, theopposition of all those whose prime virtue was personal bravery, wasnecessarily excited. In fact, the nobility, from a very early period, began to look with jealous eyes upon them. They were not slow to perceivetheir true purport, which was no other than to make the Church the lastcourt of appeal in all cases, both civil and criminal: and not only didthe nobility prefer the ancient mode of single combat from this cause, initself a sufficient one, but they clung to it because an acquittal gainedby those displays of courage and address which the battle afforded, wasmore creditable in the eyes of their compeers, than one which it requiredbut little or none of either to accomplish. To these causes may be addedanother, which was perhaps more potent than either in raising the creditof the judicial combat at the expense of the ordeal. The noble institutionof chivalry was beginning to take root, and, notwithstanding the clamoursof the clergy, war was made the sole business of life, and the onlyelegant pursuit of the aristocracy. The fine spirit of honour wasintroduced, any attack upon which was only to be avenged in the lists, within sight of applauding crowds, whose verdict of approbation was farmore gratifying than the cold and formal acquittal of the ordeal. Lothaire, the son of Louis I. , abolished that by fire and the trial of thecross within his dominions; but in England they were allowed so late asthe time of Henry III. , in the early part of whose reign they wereprohibited by an order of council. In the mean time, the Crusades hadbrought the institution of chivalry to the full height of perfection. Thechivalric spirit soon achieved the downfall of the ordeal system, andestablished the judicial combat on a basis too firm to be shaken. It istrue that with the fall of chivalry, as an institution, fell thetournament and the encounter in the lists; but the duel, their offspring, has survived to this day, defying the efforts of sages and philosophers toeradicate it. Among all the errors bequeathed to us by a barbarous age, ithas proved the most pertinacious. It has put variance between men's reasonand their honour; put the man of sense on a level with the fool, and madethousands who condemn it submit to it or practise it. 

Those who are curious to see the manner in which these combats wereregulated, may consult the learned Montesquieu, where they will find acopious summary of the code of ancient duelling. [55] Truly does he remark, in speaking of the clearness and excellence of the arrangements, that, asthere were many wise matters which were conducted in a very foolishmanner, so there were many foolish matters conducted very wisely. Nogreater exemplification of it could be given than the wise and religiousrules of the absurd and blasphemous trial by battle. 

 [55] _Esprit des Loix_, liv. Xxviii. Ch. Xxv. 

In the ages that intervened between the Crusades and the new era that wasopened out by the invention of gunpowder and printing, a more rationalsystem of legislation took root. The inhabitants of cities, engaged in thepursuits of trade and industry, were content to acquiesce in the decisionsof their judges and magistrates whenever any differences arose among them. Unlike the class above them, their habits and manners did not lead them toseek the battle-field on every slight occasion. A dispute as to the priceof a sack of corn, a bale of broad-cloth, or a cow, could be moresatisfactorily adjusted before the mayor or bailiff of their district. Even the martial knights and nobles, quarrelsome as they were, began tosee that the trial by battle would lose its dignity and splendour if toofrequently resorted to. Governments also shared this opinion, and onseveral occasions restricted the cases in which it was legal to proceed tothis extremity. In France, before the time of Louis IX. , duels werepermitted only in cases of _lèse majesté_, _rape_, _incendiarism_, _assassination_, and _burglary_. Louis IX. , by taking off all restriction, made them legal in civil cases. This was not found to work well, and, in1303, Philip the Fair judged it necessary to confine them, in criminalmatters, to state offences, rape, and incendiarism; and in civil cases, toquestions of disputed inheritance. Knighthood was allowed to be the bestjudge of its own honour, and might defend or avenge it as often asoccasion arose. 

Among the earliest duels upon record, is a very singular one that tookplace in the reign of Louis II. (A. D. 878). Ingelgerius count ofGastinois was one morning discovered by his countess dead in bed at herside. Gontran, a relation of the count, accused the countess of havingmurdered her husband, to whom, he asserted, she had long been unfaithful, and challenged her to produce a champion to do battle in her behalf, thathe might establish her guilt by killing him. [56] All the friends andrelatives of the countess believed in her innocence; but Gontran was sostout and bold and renowned a warrior that no one dared to meet him, forwhich, as Brantôme quaintly says, "mauvais et poltrons parens estaient. "The unhappy countess began to despair, when a champion suddenly appearedin the person of Ingelgerius count of Anjou, a boy of sixteen years ofage, who had been held by the countess on the baptismal font, and receivedher husband's name. He tenderly loved his godmother, and offered to dobattle in her cause against any and every opponent. The king endeavouredto persuade the generous boy from his enterprise, urging the greatstrength, tried skill, and invincible courage of the challenger; but hepersisted in his resolution, to the great sorrow of all the court, whosaid it was a cruel thing to permit so brave and beautiful a child to rushto such butchery and death. 

 [56] _Mémoires de Brantôme touchant les Duels_. 

[Illustration: DUEL BETWEEN INGELGERIUS AND GONTRAN. ]

When the lists were prepared, the countess duly acknowledged her champion, and the combatants commenced the onset. Gontran rode so fiercely at hisantagonist, and hit him on the shield with such impetuosity, that he losthis own balance and rolled to the ground. The young count, as Gontranfell, passed his lance through his body, and then dismounting, cut off hishead, which, Brantôme says, "he presented to the king, who received itmost graciously, and was very joyful, as much so as if any one had madehim a present of a city. " The innocence of the countess was thenproclaimed with great rejoicings; and she kissed her godson, and wept overhis neck with joy, in the presence of all the assembly. 

When the Earl of Essex was accused, by Robert de Montfort, before KingHenry II. , in 1162, of having traitorously suffered the royal standard ofEngland to fall from his hands in a skirmish with the Welsh at Coleshill, five years previously, the latter offered to prove the truth of the chargeby single combat. The Earl of Essex accepted the challenge, and the listswere prepared near Reading. An immense concourse of persons assembled towitness the battle. Essex at first fought stoutly, but, losing his temperand self-command, he gave an advantage to his opponent which soon decidedthe struggle. He was unhorsed, and so severely wounded, that all presentthought he was dead. At the solicitation of his relatives, the monks ofthe Abbey of Reading were allowed to remove the body for interment, andMontfort was declared the victor. Essex, however, was not dead, butstunned only, and, under the care of the monks, recovered in a few weeksfrom his bodily injuries. The wounds of his mind were not so easilyhealed. Though a loyal and brave subject, the whole realm believed him atraitor and a coward because he had been vanquished. He could not brook toreturn to the world deprived of the good opinion of his fellows; hetherefore made himself a monk, and passed the remainder of his days withinthe walls of the abbey. 

Du Chastelet relates a singular duel that was proposed in Spain. [57] AChristian gentleman of Seville sent a challenge to a Moorish cavalier, offering to prove against him, with whatever weapons he might choose, thatthe religion of Jesus Christ was holy and divine, and that of Mahometimpious and damnable. The Spanish prelates did not choose thatChristianity should be compromised within their jurisdiction by the resultof any such combat; the Moorish cavalier might, perchance, have proved tobe the stronger, and they commanded the knight, under pain ofexcommunication, to withdraw the challenge. 

 [57] _Histoire de Messire Bertrand du Guesclin_, liv. I. Ch. Xix. 

The same author relates that, under Otho I. , a question arose amongjurisconsults, viz. Whether grandchildren, who had lost their father, should share equally with their uncles in the property of theirgrandfather, at the death of the latter. The difficulty of this questionwas found so insurmountable, that none of the lawyers of that day couldresolve it. It was at last decreed that it should be decided by singlecombat. Two champions were accordingly chosen; one for, and the otheragainst, the claims of the little ones. After a long struggle, thechampion of the uncles was unhorsed and slain; and it was thereforedecided that the right of the grandchildren was established, and that theyshould enjoy the same portion of their grandfather's possessions thattheir father would have done had he been alive. 

Upon pretexts just as strange, and often more frivolous that these, duelscontinued to be fought in most of the countries of Europe during the wholeof the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. A memorable instance of theslightness of the pretext on which a man could be forced to fight a duelto the death, occurs in the Memoirs of the brave Constable, Du Guesclin. The advantage he had obtained, in a skirmish before Rennes, againstWilliam Brembre, an English captain, so preyed on the spirits of WilliamTroussel, the chosen friend and companion of the latter, that nothingwould satisfy him but a mortal combat with the Constable. The Duke ofLancaster, to whom Troussel applied for permission to fight the greatFrenchman, forbade the battle, as not warranted by the circumstances. Troussel nevertheless burned with a fierce desire to cross his weapon withDu Guesclin, and sought every occasion to pick a quarrel with him. Havingso good a will for it, of course he found a way. A relative of his hadbeen taken prisoner by the Constable, in whose hands he remained till hewas able to pay his ransom. Troussel resolved to make a quarrel out ofthis, and despatched a messenger to Du Guesclin, demanding the release ofhis prisoner, and offering a bond, at a distant date, for the payment ofthe ransom. Du Guesclin, who had received intimation of the hostilepurposes of the Englishman, sent back word that he would not accept hisbond, neither would he release his prisoner until the full amount of hisransom was paid. As soon as this answer was received, Troussel sent achallenge to the Constable, demanding reparation for the injury he haddone his honour, by refusing his bond, and offering a mortal combat, to befought three strokes with the lance, three with the sword, and three withthe dagger. Du Guesclin, although ill in bed with the ague, accepted thechallenge, and gave notice to the Marshal d'Andreghem, the king'slieutenant-general in Lower Normandy, that he might fix the day and theplace of combat. The marshal made all necessary arrangements, uponcondition that he who was beaten should pay a hundred florins of gold tofeast the nobles and gentlemen who were witnesses of the encounter. 

The Duke of Lancaster was very angry with his captain, and told him thatit would be a shame to his knighthood and his nation if he forced on acombat with the brave Du Guesclin at a time when he was enfeebled bydisease and stretched on the couch of suffering. Upon theserepresentations, Troussel, ashamed of himself, sent notice to Du Guesclinthat he was willing to postpone the duel until such time as he should beperfectly recovered. Du Guesclin replied, that he could not think ofpostponing the combat after all the nobility had received notice of it;that he had sufficient strength left not only to meet, but to conquer suchan opponent as he was; and that if he did not make his appearance in thelists at the time appointed, he would publish him every where as a manunworthy to be called a knight, or to wear an honourable sword by hisside. Troussel carried this haughty message to the Duke of Lancaster, whoimmediately gave permission for the battle. 

On the day appointed, the two combatants appeared in the lists, in thepresence of several thousand spectators. Du Guesclin was attended by theflower of the French nobility, including the Marshal de Beaumanoir, Olivier de Mauny, Bertrand de Saint Pern, and the Viscount de la Bellière;while the Englishman appeared with no more than the customary retinue oftwo seconds, two squires, two coutilliers or daggermen, and twotrumpeters. The first onset was unfavourable to the Constable. He receivedso heavy a blow on his shield-arm, that he fell forward to the left uponhis horse's neck; and being weakened by his fever, was nearly thrown tothe ground. All his friends thought he could never recover himself, andbegan to deplore his ill fortune; but Du Guesclin collected his energiesfor a decisive effort, and at the second charge aimed a blow at theshoulder of his enemy, which felled him to the earth, mortally wounded. Hethen sprang from his horse, sword in hand, with the intention of cuttingoff the head of his fallen foe, when the Marshal d'Andreghem threw agolden wand into the arena as a signal that hostilities should cease. DuGuesclin was proclaimed the victor amid the joyous acclamations of thecrowd, and retiring, left the field to the meaner combatants, who wereafterwards to make sport for the people. Four English and as many Frenchsquires fought for some time with pointless lances, when the Frenchgaining the advantage, the sports were declared at an end. 

In the time of Charles VI. , about the beginning of the fifteenth century, a famous duel was ordered by the parliament of Paris. The Sieur deCarrouges being absent in the Holy Land, his lady was violated by theSieur Legris. Carrouges, on his return, challenged Legris to mortal combatfor the twofold crime of violation and slander, inasmuch as he had deniedhis guilt by asserting that the lady was a willing party. The lady'sasseverations of innocence were held to be no evidence by the parliament, and the duel was commanded, with all the ceremonies. "On the dayappointed, " says Brantôme, [58] "the lady came to witness the spectacle inher chariot; but the king made her descend, judging her unworthy, becauseshe was criminal in his eyes till her innocence was proved, and caused herto stand upon a scaffold to await the mercy of God and this judgment bythe battle. After a short struggle, the Sieur de Carrouges overthrew hisenemy, and made him confess both the rape and the slander. He was thentaken to the gallows and hanged in the presence of the multitude; whilethe innocence of the lady was proclaimed by the heralds, and recognised byher husband, the king, and all the spectators. "

 [58] _Mémoires de Brantôme touchant les Duels_. 

Numerous battles of a similar description constantly took place, until theunfortunate issue of one encounter of the kind led the French king, HenryII. , to declare solemnly that he would never again permit any suchencounter, whether it related to a civil or criminal case, or the honourof a gentleman. 

This memorable combat was fought in the year 1547. François de Vivonne, lord of La Chataigneraie, and Guy de Chabot, lord of Jarnac, had beenfriends from their early youth, and were noted at the court of Francis I. For the gallantry of their bearing and the magnificence of their retinue. Chataigneraie, who knew that his friend's means were not very ample, askedhim one day in confidence how it was that he contrived to be so wellprovided? Jarnac replied, that his father had married a young andbeautiful woman, who, loving the son far better than the sire, suppliedhim with as much money as he desired. La Chataigneraie betrayed the basesecret to the dauphin, the dauphin to the king, the king to his courtiers, and the courtiers to all their acquaintance. In a short time it reachedthe ears of the old Lord de Jarnac, who immediately sent for his son, anddemanded to know in what manner the report had originated, and whether hehad been vile enough not only to carry on such a connexion, but to boastof it? De Jarnac indignantly denied that he had ever said so, or givenreason to the world to say so, and requested his father to accompany himto court and confront him with his accuser, that he might see the mannerin which he would confound him. They went accordingly; and the younger DeJarnac, entering a room where the dauphin, La Chataigneraie, and severalcourtiers were present, exclaimed aloud, "That whoever had asserted thathe maintained a criminal connexion with his mother-in-law was a liar and acoward!" Every eye was turned to the dauphin and La Chataigneraie, whenthe latter stood forward and asserted, that De Jarnac had himself avowedthat such was the fact, and he would extort from his lips anotherconfession of it. A case like this could not be met or rebutted by anylegal proof, and the royal council ordered that it should be decided bysingle combat. The king, however, set his face against the duel, [59] andforbade them both, under pain of his high displeasure, to proceed anyfurther in the matter. But Francis died in the following year, and thedauphin, now Henry II. , who was himself compromised, resolved that thecombat should take place. 

 [59] Although Francis shewed himself in this case an enemy to duelling, yet in his own case he had not the same objection. Every reader of history must remember his answer to the challenge of the Emperor Charles V. The Emperor wrote that he had failed in his word, and that he would sustain their quarrel single-handed against him. Francis replied, that he lied--_qu'il en avait menti par la gorge_, and that he was ready to meet him in single combat whenever and wherever he pleased. 

The lists were prepared in the court-yard of the chateau of St. Germain-en-Laye, and the 10th of July, 1547, was appointed for theencounter. The cartels of the combatants, which are preserved in the_Mémoires de Castelnau_, were as follow:

 "_Cartel of François de Vivonne, lord of la Chataigneraie_. 

"SIRE, "Having learned that Guy Chabot de Jarnac, being lately at Compiegne, asserted that whoever had said that he boasted of having criminalintercourse with his mother-in-law was wicked and a wretch, I, sire, withyour good will and pleasure, do answer that he has wickedly lied, and willlie as many times as he denies having said that which I affirm he did say;for I repeat, that he told me several times, and boasted of it, that hehad slept with his mother-in-law. 

 "FRANÇOIS DE VIVONNE. "

To this cartel De Jarnac replied:

"SIRE, "With your good will and permission, I say, that François de Vivonne haslied in the imputation which he has cast upon me, and of which I spoke toyou at Compiegne. I therefore entreat you, sire, most humbly, that you bepleased to grant us a fair field, that we may fight this battle to thedeath. 

 "GUY CHABOT. "

The preparations were conducted on a scale of the greatest magnificence, the king having intimated his intention of being present. La Chataigneraiemade sure of the victory, and invited the king and a hundred and fifty ofthe principal personages of the court to sup with him in the evening, after the battle, in a splendid tent which he had prepared at theextremity of the lists. De Jarnac was not so confident, though perhapsmore desperate. At noon, on the day appointed, the combatants met, andeach took the customary oath that he bore no charms or amulets about him, or made use of any magic, to aid him against his antagonist. They thenattacked each other, sword in hand. La Chataigneraie was a strong robustman, and over confident; De Jarnac was nimble, supple, and prepared forthe worst. The combat lasted for some time doubtful, until De Jarnac, overpowered by the heavy blows of his opponent, covered his head with hisshield, and, stooping down, endeavoured to make amends by his agility forhis deficiency of strength. In this crouching posture he aimed two blowsat the left thigh of La Chataigneraie, who had left it uncovered, that themotion of his leg might not be impeded. Each blow was successful, and, amid the astonishment of all the spectators, and to the great regret ofthe king, La Chataigneraie rolled over upon the sand. He seized hisdagger, and made a last effort to strike De Jarnac: but he was unable tosupport himself, and fell powerless into the arms of the assistants. Theofficers now interfered, and De Jarnac being declared the victor, felldown upon his knees, uncovered his head, and, clasping his hands together, exclaimed: "_O Domine, non sum dignus!_" La Chataigneraie was so mortifiedby the result of the encounter, that he resolutely refused to have hiswounds dressed. He tore off the bandages which the surgeons applied, andexpired two days afterwards. Ever since that time, any sly and unforeseenattack has been called by the French a _coup de Jarnac_. Henry was sogrieved at the loss of his favourite, that he made the solemn oath alreadyalluded to, that he would never again, so long as he lived, permit a duel. Some writers have asserted, and among others, Mezerai, that he issued aroyal edict forbidding them. This has been doubted by others, and as thereappears no registry of the edict in any of the courts, it seems mostprobable that it was never issued. This opinion is strengthened by thefact, that, two years afterwards, the council ordered another duel to befought with similar forms, but with less magnificence, on account of theinferior rank of the combatants. It is not anywhere stated that Henryinterfered to prevent it, notwithstanding his solemn oath; but that, onthe contrary, he encouraged it, and appointed the Marshal de la Marque tosee that it was conducted according to the rules of chivalry. Thedisputants were Fendille and D'Aguerre, two gentlemen of the household, who, quarrelling in the king's chamber, had proceeded from words to blows. The council, being informed of the matter, decreed that it could only bedecided in the lists. Marshal de la Marque, with the king's permission, appointed the city of Sedan as the place of combat. Fendille, who was abad swordsman, was anxious to avoid an encounter with D'Aguerre, who wasone of the most expert men of the age; but the council authoritativelycommanded that he should fight, or be degraded from all his honours. D'Aguerre appeared in the field attended by François de Vendôme, Count deChartres, while Fendille was accompanied by the Duke of Nevers. Fendilleappears to have been not only an inexpert swordsman, but a thoroughcoward; one who, like Cowley, might have heaped curses on the man, "(Death's factor sure), who brought Dire swords into this peaceful world. "

On the very first encounter he was thrown from his horse, and, confessingon the ground all that his victor required of him, slunk awayignominiously from the arena. 

One is tempted to look upon the death of Henry II. As a judgment upon himfor his perjury in the matter of duelling. In a grand tournamentinstituted on the occasion of the marriage of his daughter, he brokeseveral lances in encounters with some of the bravest knights of the time. Ambitious of still further renown, he would not rest satisfied until hehad also engaged the young Count de Montgommeri. He received a wound inthe eye from the lance of his antagonist, and died from its effectsshortly afterwards, in the forty-first year of his age. 

In the succeeding reigns of Francis II. , Charles IX. , and Henry III. , thepractice of duelling increased to an alarming extent. Duels were not rarein the other countries of Europe at the same period; but in France theywere so frequent, that historians, in speaking of that age, designate itas "l'époque de la fureur des duels. " The parliament of Paris endeavoured, as far as in its power lay, to discourage the practice. By a decree datedthe 26th of June 1559, it declared all persons who should be present atduels, or aiding and abetting in them, to be rebels to the king, transgressors of the law, and disturbers of the public peace. 

When Henry III. Was assassinated at St. Cloud in 1589, a young gentleman, named L'Isle-Marivaut, who had been much beloved by him, took his death somuch to heart, that he resolved not to survive him. Not thinking suicidean honourable death, and wishing, as he said, to die gloriously inrevenging his king and master, he publicly expressed his readiness tofight any body to the death, who should assert that Henry's assassinationwas not a great misfortune to the community. Another youth, of a fierytemper and tried courage, named Marolles, took him at his word, and theday and place of the combat were forthwith appointed. When the hour hadcome, and all were ready, Marolles turned to his second, and asked whetherhis opponent had a casque or helmet only, or whether he wore a _sallade_, or headpiece. Being answered a helmet only, he said gaily, "So much thebetter; for, sir my second, you shall repute me the wickedest man in allthe world, if I do not thrust my lance right through the middle of hishead and kill him. " Truth to say, he did so at the very first onset, andthe unhappy L'Isle-Marivaut expired without a groan. Brantôme, who relatesthis story, adds, that the victor might have done as he pleased with thebody, cut off the head, dragged it out of the camp, or exposed it upon anass; but that being a wise and very courteous gentleman, he left it to therelatives of the deceased to be honourably buried, contenting himself withthe glory of his triumph, by which he gained no little renown and honouramong the ladies of Paris. 

[Illustration: HENRY IV. ]

On the accession of Henry IV. That monarch determined to set his faceagainst duelling; but such was the influence of early education and theprejudices of society upon him, that he never could find it in his heartto punish a man for this offence. He thought it tended to foster a warlikespirit among his people. When the chivalrous Créqui demanded hispermission to fight Don Philippe de Savoire, he is reported to have said, "Go, and if I were not a king, I would be your second. " It is no wonderthat when such was known to be the king's disposition, his edictsattracted but small attention. A calculation was made by M. De Lomenie, inthe year 1607, that since the accession of Henry, in 1589, no less thanfour thousand French gentlemen had lost their lives in these conflicts;which, for the eighteen years, would have been at the rate of four or fivein a week, or eighteen per month! Sully, who reports this fact in hisMemoirs, does not throw the slightest doubt upon its exactness; and adds, that it was chiefly owing to the facility and ill-advised good-nature ofhis royal master that the bad example had so empoisoned the court, thecity, and the whole country. This wise minister devoted much of his timeand attention to the subject; for the rage, he says, was such as to causehim a thousand pangs, and the king also. There was hardly a man moving inwhat was called good society, who had not been engaged in a duel either asprincipal or second; and if there were such a man, his chief desire was tofree himself from the imputation of non-duelling, by picking a quarrelwith somebody. Sully constantly wrote letters to the king, in which heprayed him to renew the edicts against this barbarous custom, to aggravatethe punishment against offenders, and never, in any instance, to grant apardon, even to a person who had wounded another in a duel, much less toany one who had taken away life. He also advised, that some sort oftribunal, or court of honour, should be established, to take cognisance ofinjurious and slanderous language, and of all such matters as usually ledto duels; and that the justice to be administered by this court should besufficiently prompt and severe to appease the complainant, and make theoffender repent of his aggression. 

[Illustration: GALLERY AT FONTAINEBLEAU. ]

Henry, being so warmly pressed by his friend and minister, called togetheran extraordinary council in the gallery of the palace of Fontainebleau, totake the matter into consideration. When all the members were assembled, his majesty requested that some person conversant with the subject wouldmake a report to him on the origin, progress, and different forms of theduel. Sully complacently remarks, that none of the councillors gave theking any great reason to felicitate them on their erudition. In fact, theyall remained silent. Sully held his peace with the rest; but he looked soknowing, that the king turned towards him, and said:--"Great master! byyour face I conjecture that you know more of this matter than you wouldhave us believe. I pray you, and indeed I command, that you tell us whatyou think and what you know. " The coy minister refused, as he says, out ofmere politeness to his more ignorant colleagues; but, being again pressedby the king, he entered into a history of duelling both in ancient andmodern times. He has not preserved this history in his Memoirs; and, asnone of the ministers or councillors present thought proper to do so, theworld is deprived of a discourse which was, no doubt, a learned andremarkable one. The result was, that a royal edict was issued, which Sullylost no time in transmitting to the most distant provinces, with adistinct notification to all parties concerned that the king was inearnest, and would exert the full rigour of the law in punishment of theoffenders. Sully himself does not inform us what were the provisions ofthe new law; but Father Matthias has been more explicit, and from him welearn, that the marshals of France were created judges of a court ofchivalry, for the hearing of all causes wherein the honour of a noble orgentleman was concerned, and that such as resorted to duelling should bepunished by death and confiscation of property, and that the seconds andassistants should lose their rank, dignity, or offices, and be banishedfrom the court of their sovereign. [60]

 [60] _Le Père Matthias_, tome ii. Livre iv. 

But so strong a hold had the education and prejudice of his age upon themind of the king, that though his reason condemned, his sympathiesapproved the duel. Notwithstanding this threatened severity, the number ofduels did not diminish, and the wise Sully had still to lament theprevalence of an evil which menaced society with utter disorganisation. Inthe succeeding reign the practice prevailed, if possible, to a stillgreater extent, until the Cardinal de Richelieu, better able to grapplewith it than Sully had been, made some severe examples in the very highestclasses. Lord Herbert, the English ambassador at the court of Louis XIII. , repeats, in his letters, an observation that had been previously made inthe reign of Henry IV. , that it was rare to find a Frenchman moving ingood society who had not killed his man in a duel. The Abbé Millot says ofthis period, that the duel madness made the most terrible ravages. Men hadactually a frenzy for combating. Caprice and vanity, as well as theexcitement of passion, imposed the necessity of fighting. Friends wereobliged to enter into the quarrels of their friends, or be themselvescalled out for their refusal, and revenge became hereditary in manyfamilies. It was reckoned that in twenty years eight thousand letters ofpardon had been issued to persons who had killed others in singlecombat. [61]

 [61] _Elémens de l'Histoire de France_, vol. Iii. P. 219. 

Other writers confirm this statement. Amelot de Houssaye, in his Memoirs, says, upon this subject, that duels were so common in the first years ofthe reign of Louis XIII. , that the ordinary conversation of persons whenthey met in the morning was, "_Do you know who fought yesterday?_" andafter dinner, "_Do you know who fought this morning?_" The most infamousduellist at that period was De Bouteville. It was not at all necessary toquarrel with this assassin, to be forced to fight a duel with him. When heheard that any one was very brave, he would go to him, and say, "_Peopletell me that you are brave; you and I must fight together!_" Every morningthe most notorious bravos and duellists used to assemble at his house, totake a breakfast of bread and wine, and practise fencing. M. De Valençay, who was afterwards elevated to the rank of a cardinal, stood very high inthe estimation of De Bouteville and his gang. Hardly a day passed but whathe was engaged in some duel or other, either as principal or second; andhe once challenged De Bouteville himself, his best friend, because DeBouteville had fought a duel without inviting him to become his second. This quarrel was only appeased on the promise of De Bouteville that, inhis next encounter, he would not fail to avail himself of his services. For that purpose he went out the same day, and picked a quarrel with theMarquis des Portes. M. De Valençay, according to agreement, had thepleasure of serving as his second, and of running through the body M. DeCavois, the second of the Marquis des Portes, a man who had never done himany injury, and whom he afterwards acknowledged he had never seen before. 

Cardinal Richelieu devoted much attention to this lamentable state ofpublic morals, and seems to have concurred with his great predecessorSully, that nothing but the most rigorous severity could put a stop to theevil. The subject indeed was painfully forced upon him by his enemies. TheMarquis de Themines, to whom Richelieu, then Bishop of Luçon, had givenoffence by some representations he had made to Mary of Medicis, determined, since he could not challenge an ecclesiastic, to challenge hisbrother. An opportunity was soon found. Themines, accosting the Marquis deRichelieu, complained, in an insulting tone, that the Bishop of Luçon hadbroken his faith. The Marquis resented both the manner and matter of hisspeech, and readily accepted a challenge. They met in the Rue d'Angoulême, and the unfortunate Richelieu was stabbed to the heart, and instantlyexpired. From that moment the bishop became the steady foe of the practiceof duelling. Reason and the impulse of brotherly love alike combined tomake him detest it, and when his power in France was firmly established, he set vigorously about repressing it. In his _Testament Politique_, hehas collected his thoughts upon the subject, in the chapter entitled "Desmoyens d'arrêter les Duels. " In spite of the edicts that he published, themembers of the nobility persisted in fighting upon the most trivial andabsurd pretences. At last Richelieu made a terrible example. The infamousDe Bouteville challenged and fought the Marquis de Beuvron; and althoughthe duel itself was not fatal to either, its consequences were fatal toboth. High as they were, Richelieu resolved that the law should reach themboth, and they were both tried, found guilty, and beheaded. Thus didsociety get rid of one of the most bloodthirsty scoundrels that everpolluted it. 

[Illustration: SULLY. ]

In 1632 two noblemen fought a duel in which they were both killed. Theofficers of justice had notice of the breach of the law, and arrived atthe scene of combat before the friends of the parties had time to removethe bodies. In conformity with the cardinal's severe code upon thesubject, the bodies were ignominiously stripped and hanged upon a gallowswith their heads downwards, for several hours, within sight of all thepeople. [62] This severity sobered the frenzy of the nation for a time; butit was soon forgotten. Men's minds were too deeply imbued with a falsenotion of honour to be brought to a right way of thinking: by suchexamples, however striking, Richelieu was unable to persuade them to walkin the right path, though he could punish them for choosing the wrong one. He had with all his acuteness, miscalculated the spirit of duelling. Itwas not death that a duellist feared; it was shame, and the contempt ofhis fellows. As Addison remarked more than eighty years afterwards, "Deathwas not sufficient to deter men who made it their glory to despise it; butif every one who fought a duel were to stand in the pillory, it wouldquickly diminish the number of those imaginary men of honour, and put anend to so absurd a practice. " Richelieu never thought of this. 

 [62] _Mercure de France_, vol. Xiii. 

Sully says, that in his time the Germans were also much addicted toduelling. There were three places where it was legal to fight; Witzburg inFranconia, and Uspach and Halle in Swabia. Thither of course, vast numbersrepaired, and murdered each other under sanction of the law. At an earlierperiod in Germany, it was held highly disgraceful to refuse to fight. Anyone who surrendered to his adversary for a simple wound that did notdisable him, was reputed infamous, and could neither cut his beard, beararms, mount on horseback, or hold any office in the state. He who fell ina duel was buried with great pomp and splendour. 

In the year 1652, just after Louis XIV. Had attained his majority, adesperate duel was fought between the Dukes de Beaufort and De Nemours, each attended by four gentlemen. Although brothers-in-law, they had longbeen enemies, and their constant dissensions had introduced muchdisorganisation among the troops which they severally commanded. Each hadlong sought an opportunity for combat, which at last arose on amisunderstanding relative to the places they were to occupy at thecouncil-board. They fought with pistols, and, at the first discharge, theDuke de Nemours was shot through the body, and almost instantly expired. Upon this the Marquis de Villars, who seconded Nemours, challengedHéricourt, the second of the Duke de Beaufort, a man whom he had neverbefore seen; and the challenge being accepted, they fought even moredesperately than their principals. This combat, being with swords, lastedlonger than the first, and was more exciting to the six remaininggentlemen who stayed to witness it. The result was fatal to Héricourt, whofell pierced to the heart by the sword of De Villars. Any thing moresavage than this can hardly be imagined. Voltaire says such duels werefrequent, and the compiler of the _Dictionnaire d'Anecdotes_ informs usthat the number of seconds was not fixed. As many as ten, or twelve, ortwenty, were not unfrequent, and they often fought together after theirprincipals were disabled. The highest mark of friendship one man couldmanifest towards another, was to choose him for his second; and manygentlemen were so desirous of serving in this capacity, that theyendeavoured to raise every slight misunderstanding into a quarrel, thatthey might have the pleasure of being engaged in it. The Count deBussy-Rabutin relates an instance of this in his Memoirs. He says, that ashe was one evening coming out of the theatre, a gentleman named Bruc, whomhe had not before known, stopped him very politely, and, drawing himaside, asked him if it was true that the Count de Thianges had called him(Bruc) a drunkard? Bussy replied that he really did not know, for he sawthe count very seldom. "Oh, he is your uncle!" replied Bruc; "and, as Icannot have satisfaction from him, because he lives so far off in thecountry, I apply to you. " "I see what you are at, " replied Bussy, "and, since you wish to put me in my uncle's place, I answer, that whoeverasserted that he called you a drunkard, told a lie!" "My brother said so, "replied Bruc, "and he is a child. " "Horsewhip him, then, for hisfalsehood, " returned De Bussy. "I will not have my brother called, aliar, " returned Bruc, determined to quarrel with him; "so draw, and defendyourself!" They both drew their swords in the public street, but wereseparated by the spectators. They agreed, however, to fight on a futureoccasion, and with all the regular forms of the duello. A few daysafterwards, a gentleman, whom De Bussy had never before seen, and whom hedid not know even by name, called upon him and asked if he might have theprivilege of serving as his second. He added, that he neither knew him norBruc, except by reputation, but having made up his mind to be second ofone of them, he had decided upon accompanying De Bussy as the braver manof the two. De Bussy thanked him very sincerely for his politeness, butbegged to be excused, as he had already engaged four seconds to accompanyhim, and he was afraid that if he took any more the affair would become abattle instead of a duel. 

When such quarrels as these were looked upon as mere matters of course, the state of society must have been indeed awful. Louis XIV. Very earlysaw the evil, and as early determined to remedy it. It was not, however, till the year 1679, when he instituted the "Chambre Ardente, " for thetrial of the slow poisoners and pretenders to sorcery, that he publishedany edict against duelling. In that year his famous edict was promulgated, in which he reiterated and confirmed the severe enactments of hispredecessors Henry IV. And Louis XIII. , and expressed his determinationnever to pardon any offender. By this celebrated ordinance a supreme courtof honour was established, composed of the marshals of France. They werebound, on taking the office, to give to every one who brought awell-founded complaint before them, such reparation as would satisfy thejustice of the case. Should any gentleman against whom complaint was maderefuse to obey the mandate of the court of honour, he might be punished byfine and imprisonment; and when that was not possible, by reason of hisabsenting himself from the kingdom, his estates might be confiscated tillhis return. 

Every man who sent a challenge, be the cause of offence what it might, wasdeprived of all redress from the court of honour--suspended three yearsfrom the exercise of any office in the state--was further imprisoned fortwo years, and sentenced to pay a fine of half his yearly income. 

He who accepted a challenge was subject to the same punishment. Anyservant or other person, who knowingly became the bearer of a challenge, was, if found guilty, sentenced to stand in the pillory and be publiclywhipped for the first offence; and for the second, sent for three years tothe galleys. 

Any person who actually fought, was to be held guilty of murder, eventhough death did not ensue, and was to be punished accordingly. Persons inthe higher ranks of life were to be beheaded, and those of the middleclass hanged upon a gallows, and their bodies refused Christian burial. 

At the same time that Louis published this severe edict, he exacted apromise from his principal nobility that they would never engage in a duelon any pretence whatever. He never swerved from his resolution to pursueall duellists with the utmost rigour, and many were executed in variousparts of the country. A slight abatement of the evil was the consequence, and in the course of a few years one duel was not fought where twelve hadbeen fought previously. A medal was struck to commemorate thecircumstance, by the express command of the king. So much had he thisobject at heart, that, in his will, he particularly recommended to hissuccessor the care of his edict against duelling, and warned him againstany ill-judged lenity to those who disobeyed it. 

A singular law formerly existed in Malta with regard to duelling. By thislaw it was permitted, but only upon condition that the parties shouldfight in one particular street. If they presumed to settle their quarrelelsewhere, they were held guilty of murder, and punished accordingly. Whatwas also very singular, they were bound, under heavy penalties, to put uptheir swords when requested to do so by a priest, a knight, or a woman. Itdoes not appear, however, that the ladies or the knights exercised thismild and beneficent privilege to any great extent; the former were toooften themselves the cause of duels, and the latter sympathised too muchin the wounded honour of the combatants to attempt to separate them. Thepriests alone were the great peacemakers. Brydone says, that a cross wasalways painted on the wall opposite to the spot where a knight had beenkilled, and that in the "street of duels" he counted about twenty ofthem. [63]

 [63] Brydone's _Tour in Malta_, 1772. 

In England the private duel was also practised to a scandalous extent, towards the end of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenthcenturies. The judicial combat now began to be more rare, but severalinstances of it are mentioned in history. One was instituted in the reignof Elizabeth, and another so late as the time of Charles I. Sir HenrySpelman gives an account of that which took place in Elizabeth's reign, which is curious, perhaps the more so when we consider that it wasperfectly legal, and that similar combats remained so till the year 1819. A proceeding having been instituted in the Court of Common Pleas for therecovery of certain manorial rights in the county of Kent, the defendantoffered to prove by single combat his right to retain possession. Theplaintiff accepted the challenge, and the Court having no power to staythe proceedings, agreed to the champions who were to fight in lieu of theprincipals. The queen commanded the parties to compromise; but it beingrepresented to her majesty that they were justified by law in the coursethey were pursuing, she allowed them to proceed. On the day appointed, thejustices of the Common Pleas, and all the counsel engaged in the cause, appeared as umpires of the combat, at a place in Tothill-fields, where thelists had been prepared. The champions were ready for the encounter, andthe plaintiff and defendant were publicly called to come forward andacknowledge them. The defendant answered to his name, and recognised hischampion with the due formalities, but the plaintiff did not appear. Without his presence and authority the combat could not take place; andhis absence being considered an abandonment of his claim, he was declaredto be non-suited, and barred for ever from renewing his suit before anyother tribunal whatever. 

[Illustration: LORD BACON. ]

The queen appears to have disapproved personally of this mode of settlinga disputed claim, but her judges and legal advisers made no attempt toalter the barbarous law. The practice of private duelling excited moreindignation, from its being of every-day occurrence. In the time of JamesI. The English were so infected with the French madness, that Bacon, whenhe was attorney-general, lent the aid of his powerful eloquence to effecta reformation of the evil. Informations were exhibited in the Star Chamberagainst two persons, named Priest and Wright, for being engaged, asprincipal and second, in a duel, on which occasion he delivered a chargethat was so highly approved of by the Lords of the Council, that theyordered it to be printed and circulated over the country, as a thing "verymeet and worthy to be remembered and made known unto the world. " He beganby considering the nature and greatness of the mischief of duelling. "Ittroubleth peace--it disfurnisheth war--it bringeth calamity upon privatemen, peril upon the state, and contempt upon the law. Touching the causeof it, " he observed, "that the first motive of it, no doubt, is a falseand erroneous imagination of honour and credit; but then, the seed of thismischief being such, it is nourished by vain discourses and green andunripe conceits. Hereunto may be added, that men have almost lost the truenotion and understanding of fortitude and valour. For fortitudedistinguisheth of the grounds of quarrel whether they be just; and notonly so, but whether they be worthy, and setteth a better price upon men'slives than to bestow them idly. Nay, it is weakness and disesteem of aman's self to put a man's life upon such liedger performances. A man'slife is not to be trifled with; it is to be offered up and sacrificed tohonourable services, public merits, good causes, and noble adventures. Itis in expense of blood as it is in expense of money. It is no liberalityto make a profusion of money upon every vain occasion, neither is itfortitude to make effusion of blood, except the cause of it be worth. "[64]

 [64] See _Life and Character of Lord Bacon_, by Thomas Martin, Barrister-at-Law. 

The most remarkable event connected with duelling in this reign was thatbetween Lord Sanquir, a Scotch nobleman, and one Turner, a fencing-master. In a trial of skill between them, his lordship's eye was accidentallythrust out by the point of Turner's sword. Turner expressed great regretat the circumstance, and Lord Sanquir bore his loss with as muchphilosophy as he was master of, and forgave his antagonist. Three yearsafterwards, Lord Sanquir was at Paris, where he was a constant visitor atthe court of Henry IV. One day, in the course of conversation, the affablemonarch inquired how he had lost his eye. Sanquir, who prided himself onbeing the most expert swordsman of the age, blushed as he replied that itwas inflicted by the sword of a fencing-master. Henry, forgetting hisassumed character of an anti-duellist, carelessly, and as a mere matter ofcourse, inquired whether the man lived? Nothing more was said; but thequery sank deep into the proud heart of the Scotch baron, who returnedshortly afterwards to England, burning for revenge. His first intent wasto challenge the fencing-master to single combat; but, on furtherconsideration, he deemed it inconsistent with his dignity to meet him asan equal in fair and open fight. He therefore hired two bravos, who setupon the fencing-master, and murdered him in his own house at Whitefriars. The assassins were taken and executed, and a reward of one thousand poundsoffered for the apprehension of their employer. Lord Sanquir concealedhimself for several days, and then surrendered to take his trial, in thehope (happily false) that Justice would belie her name, and be lenient toa murderer because he was a nobleman, who on a false point of honour hadthought fit to take revenge into his own hands. The most powerfulintercessions were employed in his favour, but James, to his credit, wasdeaf to them all. Bacon, in his character of attorney-general, prosecutedthe prisoner to conviction; and he died the felon's death on the 29th ofJune, 1612, on a gibbet erected in front of the gate of Westminster Hall. 

With regard to the public duel, or trial by battle, demanded under thesanction of the law, to terminate a quarrel which the ordinary course ofjustice could with difficulty decide, Bacon was equally opposed to it, andthought that in no case should it be granted. He suggested that thereshould be declared a constant and settled resolution in the state toabolish it altogether; that care should be taken that the evil be no morecockered, nor the humour of it fed, but that all persons found guiltyshould be rigorously punished by the Star Chamber, and those of eminentquality banished from the court. 

In the succeeding reign, when Donald Mackay, the first Lord Reay, accusedDavid Ramsay of treason, in being concerned with the Marquis of Hamiltonin a design upon the crown of Scotland, he was challenged by the latter tomake good his assertion by single combat. [65] It had been at first theintention of the government to try the case by the common law, but Ramsaythought he would stand a better chance of escape by recurring to the oldand almost exploded custom, but which was still the right of every man inappeals of treason. Lord Reay readily accepted the challenge, and bothwere confined in the Tower until they found security that they wouldappear on a certain day appointed by the court to determine the question. The management of the affair was delegated to the Marischal Court ofWestminster, and the Earl of Lindsay was created Lord Constable of Englandfor the purpose. Shortly before the day appointed, Ramsay confessed insubstance all that Lord Reay had laid to his charge, upon which Charles I. Put a stop to the proceedings. 

 [65] See _History of the House and Clan of Mackay_. 

But in England, about this period, sterner disputes arose among men thanthose mere individual matters which generate duels. The men of theCommonwealth encouraged no practice of the kind, and the subduedaristocracy carried their habits and prejudices elsewhere, and foughttheir duels at foreign courts. Cromwell's parliament, however--althoughthe evil at that time was not so crying--published an order in 1654 forthe prevention of duels, and the punishment of all concerned in them. Charles II. , on his restoration, also issued a proclamation upon thesubject. In his reign an infamous duel was fought--infamous not only fromits own circumstances, but from the lenity that was shewn to the principaloffenders. 

The worthless Duke of Buckingham, having debauched the Countess ofShrewsbury, was challenged by her husband to mortal combat in January1668. Charles II. Endeavoured to prevent the duel, not from any regard topublic morality, but from fear for the life of his favourite. He gavecommands to the Duke of Albemarle to confine Buckingham to his house, ortake some other measures to prevent him from fighting. Albemarle neglectedthe order, thinking that the king himself might prevent the combat by somesurer means. The meeting took place at Barn Elms; the injured Shrewsburybeing attended by Sir John Talbot, his relative, and Lord Bernard Howard, son of the Earl of Arundel. Buckingham was accompanied by two of hisdependents, Captain Holmes and Sir John Jenkins. According to thebarbarous custom of the age, not only the principals, but the secondsengaged each other. Jenkins was pierced to the heart, and left dead uponthe field, and Sir John Talbot severely wounded in both arms. Buckinghamhimself escaping with slight wounds, ran his unfortunate antagonistthrough the body, and then left the field with the wretched woman, thecause of all the mischief, who, in the dress of a page, awaited the issueof the conflict in a neighbouring wood, holding her paramour's horse toavoid suspicion. Great influence was exerted to save the guilty partiesfrom punishment, and the master, as base as the favourite, made littledifficulty in granting a free pardon to all concerned. In a royalproclamation issued shortly afterwards, Charles II. Formally pardoned themurderers, but declared his intention never to extend in future any mercyto such offenders. It would be hard, after this, to say who was the mostinfamous, the king, the favourite, or the courtesan. 

In the reign of Queen Anne, repeated complaints were made of theprevalence of duelling. Addison, Swift, Steele, and other writers employedtheir powerful pens in reprobation of it. Steele especially, in the_Tatler_ and _Guardian_, exposed its impiety and absurdity, andendeavoured both by argument and by ridicule to bring his countrymen to aright way of thinking. [66] His comedy of _The Conscious Lovers_ containsan admirable exposure of the abuse of the word _honour_, which led meninto an error so lamentable. Swift, writing upon the subject, remarkedthat he could see no harm in rogues and fools shooting each other. Addisonand Steele took higher ground; and the latter, in the _Guardian_, summedup nearly all that could be said upon the subject in the followingimpressive words:--"A Christian and a gentleman are made inconsistentappellations of the same person. You are not to expect eternal life if youdo not forgive injuries, and your mortal life is rendered uncomfortable ifyou are not ready to commit a murder in resentment of an affront; for goodsense, as well as religion, is so utterly banished the world, that menglory in their very passions, and pursue trifles with the utmostvengeance, so little do they know that to forgive is the most arduouspitch human nature can arrive at. A coward has often fought, a coward hasoften conquered; but a coward never forgave. " Steele also published apamphlet, in which he gave a detailed account of the edict of Louis XIV. , and the measures taken by that monarch to cure his subjects of theirmurderous folly. 

 [66] See _Spectator_, Nos. 84, 97, and 99; and _Tatler_, Nos. 25, 26, 29, 31, 38, and 39; and _Guardian_, No. 20. 

On the 8th of May, 1711, Sir Cholmely Deering, M. P. For the county ofKent, was slain in a duel by Mr. Richard Thornhill, also a member of theHouse of Commons. Three days afterwards, Sir Peter King brought thesubject under the notice of the legislature; and after dwelling atconsiderable length on the alarming increase of the practice, obtainedleave to bring in a bill for the prevention and punishment of duelling. Itwas read a first time that day, and ordered for a second reading in theensuing week. 

About the same time, the attention of the Upper House of Parliament wasalso drawn to the subject in the most painful manner. Two of its mostnoted members would have fought had it not been that Queen Anne receivednotice of their intention, and exacted a pledge that they would desist;while a few months afterwards two other of its members lost their lives inone of the most remarkable duels upon record. The first affair, whichhappily terminated without a meeting, was between the Duke of Marlboroughand the Earl Pawlet; the latter and fatal encounter was between the Dukeof Hamilton and Lord Mohun. 

The first arose out of a debate in the Lords upon the conduct of the Dukeof Ormond in refusing to hazard a general engagement with the enemy, inwhich Earl Pawlet remarked that nobody could doubt the courage of the Dukeof Ormond. "He was not like a certain general, who led troops to theslaughter, to cause great numbers of officers to be knocked on the head ina battle, or against stone walls, in order to fill his pockets bydisposing of their commissions. " Every one felt that the remark was aimedat the Duke of Marlborough, but he remained silent, though evidentlysuffering in mind. Soon after the House broke up, the Earl Pawlet receiveda visit from Lord Mohun, who told him that the Duke of Marlborough wasanxious to come to an explanation with him relative to some expressions hehad made use of in that day's debate, and therefore prayed him to "go andtake a little air in the country. " Earl Pawlet did not affect tomisunderstand the hint, but asked him in plain terms whether he brought achallenge from the duke. Lord Mohun said his message needed noexplanation, and that he [Lord Mohun] would accompany the Duke ofMarlborough. He then took his leave, and Earl Pawlet returned home andtold his lady that he was going out to fight a duel with the Duke ofMarlborough. His lady, alarmed for her lord's safety, gave notice of hisintention to the Earl of Dartmouth, who immediately, in the queen's name, sent to the Duke of Marlborough, and commanded him not to stir abroad. Healso caused Earl Pawlet's house to be guarded by two sentinels; and havingtaken these precautions, informed the queen of the whole affair. HerMajesty sent at once for the duke, expressed her abhorrence of the customof duelling, and required his word of honour that he would proceed nofurther. The duke pledged his word accordingly, and the affair terminated. 

The lamentable duel between the Duke of Hamilton and Lord Mohun took placein November 1712, and sprang from the following circumstances. A lawsuithad been pending for eleven years between these two noblemen, and theylooked upon each other in consequence with a certain degree of coldness. They met together on the 13th of November in the chambers of Mr. Orlebar, a master in Chancery, when, in the course of conversation, the Duke ofHamilton reflected upon the conduct of one of the witnesses in the cause, saying that he was a person who had neither truth nor justice in him. LordMohun, somewhat nettled at this remark applied to a witness favourable tohis side, made answer hastily, that Mr. Whiteworth, the person alluded to, had quite as much truth and justice in him as the Duke of Hamilton. Theduke made no reply, and no one present imagined that he took offence atwhat was said; and when he went out of the room he made a low andcourteous salute to the Lord Mohun. In the evening, General Macartneycalled twice upon the duke with a challenge from Lord Mohun, and failingin seeing him, sought him a third time at a tavern, where he found him, and delivered his message. The duke accepted the challenge, and the dayafter the morrow, which was Sunday, the 15th of November, at seven in themorning, was appointed for the meeting. 

At that hour they assembled in Hyde Park, the duke being attended by hisrelative Colonel Hamilton, and the Lord Mohun by General Macartney. Theyjumped over a ditch into a place called the Nursery, and prepared for thecombat. The Duke of Hamilton, turning to General Macartney, said, "_Sir, you are the cause of this, let the event be what it will. _" Lord Mohundid not wish that the seconds should engage, but the duke insisted that"_Macartney should have a share in the dance. _" All being ready, the twoprincipals took up their positions, and fought with swords so desperately, that after a short time they both fell down mortally wounded. The LordMohun expired upon the spot, and the Duke of Hamilton in the arms of hisservants as they were carrying him to his coach. 

This unhappy termination caused the greatest excitement not only in themetropolis, but all over the country. The Tories, grieved at the loss ofthe Duke of Hamilton, charged the fatal combat on the Whig party, whoseleader, the Duke of Marlborough, had so recently set the example ofpolitical duels. They called Lord Mohun the bully of the Whig faction (hehad already killed three men in duels, and been twice tried for murder), and asserted openly that the quarrel was concocted between him and GeneralMacartney to rob the country of the services of the Duke of Hamilton bymurdering him. It was also asserted that the wound of which the duke diedwas not inflicted by Lord Mohun, but by Macartney; and every means wasused to propagate this belief. Colonel Hamilton, against whom andMacartney the coroner's jury had returned a verdict of wilful murder, surrendered a few days afterwards, and was examined before a privy councilsitting at the house of Lord Dartmouth. He then deposed, that seeing LordMohun fall, and the duke upon him, he ran to the duke's assistance; andthat he might with the more ease help him, he flung down both theirswords, and as he was raising the duke up, _he saw Macartney make a pushat him_. Upon this deposition, a royal proclamation was immediatelyissued, offering a reward of 500l. For the apprehension of Macartney, towhich the Duchess of Hamilton afterwards added a reward of 300l. 

Upon the further examination of Colonel Hamilton, it was found thatreliance could not be placed on all his statements, and that hecontradicted himself in several important particulars. He was arraigned atthe old Bailey for the murder of Lord Mohun, the whole political circlesof London being in a fever of excitement for the result. All the Toryparty prayed for his acquittal, and a Tory mob surrounded the doors andall the avenues leading to the court of justice for many hours before thetrial began. The examination of witnesses lasted seven hours. The criminalstill persisted in accusing General Macartney of the murder of the Duke ofHamilton, but in other respects, say the newspapers of the day, prevaricated foully. He was found guilty of manslaughter. This favourableverdict was received with universal applause, "not only from the court andall the gentlemen present, but the common people shewed a mightysatisfaction, which they testified by loud and repeated huzzas. "[67]

 [67] _Post-Boy_, December 13th, 1712. 

As the popular delirium subsided, and men began to reason coolly upon thesubject, they disbelieved the assertions of Colonel Hamilton thatMacartney had stabbed the duke, although it was universally admitted thathe had been much too busy and presuming. Hamilton was shunned by all hisformer companions, and his life rendered so irksome to him, that he soldout of the Guards and retired to private life, in which he diedheart-broken four years afterwards. 

General Macartney surrendered about the same time, and was tried formurder in the Court of King's Bench. He was, however, found guilty ofmanslaughter only. 

At the opening of the session of Parliament of 1713, the queen madepointed allusion in her speech to the frequency of duelling, andrecommended to the legislature to devise some speedy and effectual remedyfor it. A bill to that effect was brought forward, but thrown out on thesecond reading, to the very great regret of all the sensible portion ofthe community. 

A famous duel was fought in 1765 between Lord Byron and Mr. Chaworth. Thedispute arose at a club-dinner, and was relative to which of the two hadthe largest quantity of game on his estates. Infuriated by wine andpassion, they retired instantly into an adjoining room, and fought withswords across a table, by the feeble glimmer of a tallow candle. Mr. Chaworth, who was the more expert swordsman of the two, received a mortalwound, and shortly afterwards expired. Lord Byron was brought to trial forthe murder before the House of Lords; and it appearing clearly that theduel was not premeditated, but fought at once, and in the heat of passion, he was found guilty of manslaughter only, and ordered to be dischargedupon payment of his fees. This was a very bad example for the country, andduelling of course fell into no disrepute after such a verdict. 

In France more severity was exercised. In the year 1769, the Parliament ofGrenoble took cognisance of the delinquency of the Sieur Duchelas, one ofits members, who challenged and killed in a duel a captain of the Flemishlegion. The servant of Duchelas officiated as second, and was arraignedwith his master for the murder of the captain. They were both foundguilty. Duchelas was broken alive on the wheel, and the servant condemnedto the galleys for life. 

A barbarous and fiercely-contested duel was fought in November 1778, between two foreign adventurers, at Bath, named Count Rice and the Vicomtedu Barri. Some dispute arose relative to a gambling transaction, in thecourse of which Du Barri contradicted an assertion of the other, by saying"That is not true!" Count Rice immediately asked him if he knew the verydisagreeable meaning of the words he had employed. Du Barri said he wasperfectly well aware of their meaning, and that Rice might interpret themjust as he pleased. A challenge was immediately given and accepted. Seconds were sent for, who, arriving with but little delay, the wholeparty, though it was not long after midnight, proceeded to a place calledClaverton Down, where they remained with a surgeon until daylight. Theythen prepared for the encounter, each being armed with two pistols and asword. The ground having been marked out by the seconds, Du Barri firedfirst, and wounded his opponent in the thigh. Count Rice then levelled hispistol, and shot Du Barri mortally in the breast. So angry were thecombatants, that they refused to desist; both stepped back a few paces, and then rushing forward, discharged their second pistols at each other. Neither shot took effect, and both throwing away their pistols, preparedto finish the sanguinary struggle by the sword. They took their places, and were advancing towards each other, when the Vicomte du Barri suddenlystaggered, grew pale, and, falling on the ground, exclaimed, "_Je vousdemande ma vie_. " His opponent had but just time to answer, that hegranted it, when the unfortunate Du Barri turned upon the grass, andexpired with a heavy groan. The survivor of this savage conflict was thenremoved to his lodgings, where he lay for some weeks in a dangerous state. The coroner's jury, in the mean while, sat upon the body of Du Barri, anddisgraced themselves by returning a verdict of manslaughter only. CountRice, upon his recovery, was indicted for the murder notwithstanding thisverdict. On his trial he entered into a long defence of his conduct, pleading the fairness of the duel, and its unpremeditated nature; and, atthe same time, expressing his deep regret for the unfortunate death of DuBarri, with whom for many years he had been bound in ties of the strictestfriendship. These considerations appear to have weighed with the jury, andthis fierce duellist was again found guilty of manslaughter only, andescaped with a merely nominal punishment. 

A duel, less remarkable from its circumstances, but more so from the rankof the parties, took place in 1789. The combatants on this occasion werethe Duke of York and Colonel Lenox, the nephew and heir of the Duke ofRichmond. The cause of offence was given by the Duke of York, who had saidin presence of several officers of the Guards, that words had been used toColonel Lenox at Daubigny's to which no gentleman ought to have submitted. Colonel Lenox went up to the duke on parade, and asked him publiclywhether he had made such an assertion. The Duke of York, without answeringhis question, coldly ordered him to his post. When parade was over, hetook an opportunity of saying publicly in the orderly-room before ColonelLenox, that he desired no protection from his rank as a prince and hisstation as commanding officer; adding that, when he was off duty he wore aplain brown coat like a private gentleman, and was ready as such to givesatisfaction. Colonel Lenox desired nothing better than satisfaction; thatis to say, to run the chance of shooting the duke through the body, orbeing himself shot. He accordingly challenged his Royal Highness, and theymet on Wimbledon Common. Colonel Lenox fired first, and the ball whizzedpast the head of his opponent, so near to it as to graze his projectingcurl. The duke refused to return the fire, and the seconds interfering, the affair terminated. 

Colonel Lenox was very shortly afterwards engaged in another duel arisingout of this. A Mr. Swift wrote a pamphlet in reference to the disputebetween him and the Duke of York, at some expressions in which he took somuch offence, as to imagine that nothing but a shot at the writer couldatone for them. They met on the Uxbridge Road, but no damage was done toeither party. 

The Irish were for a long time renowned for their love of duelling. Theslightest offence which it is possible to imagine that one man could offerto another was sufficient to provoke a challenge. Sir Jonah Barringtonrelates, in his _Memoirs_, that, previous to the Union, during the time ofa disputed election in Dublin, it was no unusual thing forthree-and-twenty duels to be fought in a day. Even in times of lessexcitement, they were so common as to be deemed unworthy of note by theregular chroniclers of events, except in cases where one or both of thecombatants were killed. 

In those days, in Ireland, it was not only the man of the military, but ofevery profession, who had to work his way to eminence with the sword orthe pistol. Each political party had its regular corps of bullies, orfire-eaters, as they were called, who qualified themselves for being thepests of society by spending all their spare time in firing at targets. They boasted that they could hit an opponent in any part of his body theypleased, and made up their minds before the encounter began whether theyshould kill him, disable, or disfigure him for life--lay him on a bed ofsuffering for a twelvemonth, or merely graze a limb. 

The evil had reached an alarming height, when, in the year 1808, anopportunity was offered to King George III. Of shewing in a strikingmanner his detestation of the practice, and of setting an example to theIrish that such murders were not to be committed with impunity. A disputearose, in the month of June 1807, between Major Campbell and Captain Boyd, officers of the 21st regiment, stationed in Ireland, about the propermanner of giving the word of command on parade. Hot words ensued on thisslight occasion, and the result was a challenge from Campbell to Boyd. They retired into the mess-room shortly afterwards, and each stationedhimself at a corner, the distance obliquely being but seven paces. Here, without friends or seconds being present, they fired at each other, andCaptain Boyd fell mortally wounded between the fourth and fifth ribs. Asurgeon, who came in shortly, found him sitting in a chair, vomiting andsuffering great agony. He was led into another room, Major Campbellfollowing, in great distress and perturbation of mind. Boyd survived buteighteen hours, and just before his death, said, in reply to a questionfrom his opponent, that the duel was not fair, and added, "You hurried me, Campbell--you're a bad man. "--"Good God!" replied Campbell, "will youmention before these gentlemen, was not every thing fair? Did you not saythat you were ready?" Boyd answered faintly, "Oh, no! you know I wantedyou to wait and have friends. " On being again asked whether all was fair, the dying man faintly murmured, "Yes:" but in a minute after, he said, "You're a bad man!" Campbell was now in great agitation, and ringing hishands convulsively, he exclaimed, "Oh, Boyd! you are the happiest man ofthe two! Do you forgive me?" Boyd replied, "I forgive you--I feel for you, as I know you do for me. " He shortly afterwards expired, and MajorCampbell made his escape from Ireland, and lived for some months with hisfamily under an assumed name, in the neighbourhood of Chelsea. He was, however, apprehended, and brought to trial at Armagh, in August 1808. Hesaid while in prison, that, if found guilty of murder, he should suffer asan example to duellists in Ireland; but he endeavoured to buoy himself upwith the hope that the jury would only convict him of manslaughter. It wasproved in evidence upon the trial, that the duel was not foughtimmediately after the offence was given, but that Major Campbell went homeand drank tea with his family before he sought Boyd for the fatalencounter. The jury returned a verdict of wilful murder against him, butrecommended him to mercy on the ground that the duel had been a fair one. He was condemned to die on the Monday following, but was afterwardsrespited for a few days longer. In the mean time the greatest exertionswere made in his behalf. His unfortunate wife went upon her knees beforethe Prince of Wales, to move him to use his influence with the king infavour of her unhappy husband. Every thing a fond wife and a courageouswoman could do she tried, to gain the royal clemency; but George III. Wasinflexible, in consequence of the representations of the Irish viceroythat an example was necessary. The law was therefore allowed to take itscourse, and the victim of a false spirit of honour died the death of afelon. 

The most inveterate duellists of the present day are the students in theUniversities of Germany. They fight on the most frivolous pretences, andsettle with swords and pistols the schoolboy disputes which in othercountries are arranged by the more harmless medium of the fisticuffs. Itwas at one time the custom among these savage youths to prefer thesword-combat, for the facility it gave them of cutting off the noses oftheir opponents. To disfigure them in this manner was an object ofambition, and the German duellists reckoned the number of these disgustingtrophies which they had borne away, with as much satisfaction as asuccessful general the provinces he had reduced or the cities he hadtaken. 

But it would be wearisome to enter into the minute detail of all the duelsof modern times. If an examination were made into the general causes whichproduced them, it would be found that in every case they had been eitherof the most trivial or the most unworthy nature. Parliamentary duels wereat one time very common, and amongst the names of those who have soiled agreat reputation by conforming to the practice, may be mentioned those ofWarren Hastings, Sir Philip Francis, Wilkes, Pitt, Fox, Grattan, Curran, Tierney, and Canning. So difficult is it even for the superior mind tofree itself from the trammels with which foolish opinion has enswathedit--not one of these celebrated persons who did not in his secret soulcondemn the folly to which he lent himself. The bonds of reason, thoughiron-strong, are easily burst through; but those of folly, though litheand frail as the rushes by a stream, defy the stoutest heart to snap themasunder. Colonel Thomas, an officer in the Guards, who was killed in aduel, added the following clause to his will the night before hedied:--"In the first place, I commit my soul to Almighty God, in hope ofhis mercy and pardon for the irreligious step I now (in compliance withthe unwarrantable customs of this wicked world) put myself under thenecessity of taking. " How many have been in the same state of mind as thiswise, foolish man! He knew his error, and abhorred it, but could notresist it for fear of the opinion of the prejudiced and unthinking. Noother could have blamed him for refusing to fight a duel. 

The list of duels that have sprung from the most degrading causes might bestretched out to an almost indefinite extent. Sterne's father fought aduel about a goose; and the great Raleigh about a tavern-bill. [68] Scoresof duels (many of them fatal) have been fought from disputes at cards, ora place at a theatre; while hundreds of challenges, given and acceptedover-night, in a fit of drunkenness, have been fought out the next morningto the death of one or both of the antagonists. 

 [68] Raleigh at one period of his life appeared to be an inveterate duellist, and it was said of him that he had been engaged in more encounters of the kind than any man of note among his contemporaries. More than one fellow-creature he had deprived of life; but he lived long enough to be convinced of the sinfulness of his conduct, and made a solemn vow never to fight another duel. The following anecdote of his forbearance is well known, but it will bear repetition:

 A dispute arose in a coffee-house between him and a young man on some trivial point, and the latter, losing his temper, impertinently spat in the face of the veteran. Sir Walter, instead of running him through the body, as many would have done, or challenging him to mortal combat, coolly took out his handkerchief, wiped his face, and said, "Young man, if I could as easily wipe from my conscience the stain of killing you, as I can this spittle from my face, you should not live another minute. " The young man immediately begged his pardon. 

Two of the most notorious duels of modern times had their origin in causesno more worthy than the quarrel of a dog and the favour of a prostitute:that between Macnamara and Montgomery arising from the former; and thatbetween Best and Lord Camelford from the latter. The dog of Montgomeryattacked a dog belonging to Macnamara, and each master interfering inbehalf of his own animal, high words ensued. The result was the giving andaccepting a challenge to mortal combat. The parties met on the followingday, when Montgomery was shot dead, and his antagonist severely wounded. The affair created a great sensation at the time, and Heaviside, thesurgeon who attended at the fatal field to render his assistance ifnecessary, was arrested as an accessory to the murder, and committed toNewgate. 

In the duel between Best and Lord Camelford, two pistols were used whichwere considered to be the best in England. One of them was thoughtslightly superior to the other, and it was agreed that the belligerentsshould toss up a piece of money to decide the choice of weapons. Bestgained it, and at the first discharge, Lord Camelford fell mortallywounded. But little sympathy was expressed for his fate; he was aconfirmed duellist, had been engaged in many meetings of the kind, and theblood of more than one fellow-creature lay at his door. As he had sowed, so did he reap; and the violent man met an appropriate death. 

It now only remains to notice the means that have been taken to stay theprevalence of this madness of false honour in the various countries of thecivilised world. The efforts of the governments of France and England havealready been mentioned, and their want of success is but too well known. The same efforts have been attended with the same results elsewhere. Indespotic countries, where the will of the monarch has been stronglyexpressed and vigorously supported, a diminution of the evil has for atime resulted, but only to be increased again, when death relaxed the irongrasp, and a successor appeared of less decided opinions on the subject. This was the case in Prussia, under the great Frederick, of whose aversionto duelling a popular anecdote is recorded. It is stated of him that hepermitted duelling in his army, but only upon the condition that thecombatants should fight in presence of a whole battalion of infantry, drawn up on purpose to see fair play. The latter received strict orders, when one of the belligerents fell, to shoot the other immediately. It isadded, that the known determination of the king effectually put a stop tothe practice. 

The Emperor Joseph II. Of Austria was as firm as Frederick, although themeasures he adopted were not so singular. The following letter explainshis views on the subject:

 "TO GENERAL * * * * *

 "MY GENERAL, "You will immediately arrest the Count of K. And Captain W. The count is young, passionate, and influenced by wrong notions of birth and a false spirit of honour. Captain W. Is an old soldier, who will adjust every dispute with the sword and pistol, and who has received the challenge of the young count with unbecoming warmth. 

 "I will suffer no duelling in my army. I despise the principles of those who attempt to justify the practice, and who would run each other through the body in cold blood. 

 "When I have officers who bravely expose themselves to every danger in facing the enemy--who at all times exhibit courage, valour, and resolution in attack and defence, I esteem them highly. The coolness with which they meet death on such occasions is serviceable to their country, and at the same time redounds to their own honour; but should there be men amongst them who are ready to sacrifice every thing to their vengeance and hatred, I despise them. I consider such a man as no better than a Roman gladiator. 

 "Order a court-martial to try the two officers. Investigate the subject of their dispute with that impartiality which I demand from every judge; and he that is guilty, let him be a sacrifice to his fate and the laws. 

 "Such a barbarous custom, which suits the age of the Tamerlanes and Bajazets, and which has often had such melancholy effects on single families, I will have suppressed and punished, even if it should deprive me of one half of my officers. There are still men who know how to unite the character of a hero with that of a good subject; and he only can be so who respects the laws. 

 "_August, 1771. _ JOSEPH. "[69]

 [69] Vide the Letters of Joseph II. To distinguished Princes and Statesmen, published for the first time in England in _The Pamphleteer_ for 1821. They were originally published in Germany a few years previously, and throw a great light upon the character of that monarch and the events of his reign. 

In the United States of America the code varies considerably. In one ortwo of the still wild and simple states of the far West, where no duel hasyet been fought, there is no specific law upon the subject beyond that inthe Decalogue, which says, "Thou shalt do no murder;" but duelling everywhere follows the steps of modern civilisation; and by the time thebackwoodsman is transformed into the citizen, he has imbibed the falsenotions of honour which are prevalent in Europe and around him, and isready, like his progenitors, to settle his differences with the pistol. Inthe majority of the States the punishment for challenging, fighting, oracting as second, is solitary imprisonment and hard labour for any periodless than a year, and disqualification for serving any public office fortwenty years. In Vermont the punishment is total disqualification foroffice, deprivation of the rights of citizenship, and a fine; in fatalcases, the same punishment as that of murderers. In Rhode Island, thecombatant, though death does not ensue, is liable to be carted to thegallows, with a rope about his neck, and to sit in this trim for an hourexposed to the peltings of the mob. He may be further imprisoned for ayear, at the option of the magistrate. In Connecticut the punishment istotal disqualification for office or employ, and a fine varying from onehundred to a thousand dollars. The laws of Illinois require certainofficers of the state to make oath, previous to their instalment, thatthey have never been, nor ever will be, concerned in a duel. [70]

 [70] _Encyclopedia Americana_, art. Duelling. 

Amongst the edicts against duelling, promulgated at various times inEurope, may be mentioned that of Augustus King of Poland, in 1712, whichdecreed the punishment of death against principals and seconds, and minorpunishments against the bearers of a challenge. An edict was alsopublished at Munich, in 1773, according to which both principals andseconds, even in duels where no one was either killed or wounded, shouldbe hanged, and their bodies buried at the foot of the gallows. 

The king of Naples issued an ordinance against duelling in 1838, in whichthe punishment of death is decreed against all concerned in a fatal duel. The bodies of those killed, and of those who may be executed inconsequence, are to be buried in unconsecrated ground, and without anyreligious ceremony; nor is any monument to be erected on the spot. Thepunishment for duels in which either, or both, are wounded, and for thosein which no damage whatever is done, varies according to the case, andconsists of fine, imprisonment, loss of rank and honours, and incapacityfor filling any public situation. Bearers of challenges may also bepunished with fine and imprisonment. 

It might be imagined that enactments so severe all over the civilisedworld would finally eradicate a custom, the prevalence of which every wiseand good man must deplore. But the frowns of the law never yet havetaught, and never will teach, men to desist from this practice, as long asit is felt that the lawgiver sympathises with it in his heart. The sternjudge upon the bench may say to the unfortunate wight who has been calleda liar by some unmannerly opponent, "If you challenge him, you meditatemurder, and are guilty of murder!" but the same judge, divested of hisrobes of state, and mixing in the world with other men, would say, "If youdo not challenge him, if you do not run the risk of making yourself amurderer, you will be looked upon as a mean-spirited wretch, unfit toassociate with your fellows, and deserving nothing but their scorn andtheir contempt!" It is society, and not the duellist, who is to blame. Female influence too, which is so powerful in leading men either to goodor to evil, takes in this case the evil part. Mere animal bravery has, unfortunately, such charms in the female eye, that a successful duellistis but too often regarded as a sort of hero; and the man who refuses tofight, though of truer courage, is thought a poltroon, who may be trampledon. Mr. Graves, a member of the American legislature, who, early in 1838, killed a Mr. Cilley in a duel, truly and eloquently said, on the floor ofthe House of Representatives, when lamenting the unfortunate issue of thatencounter, that society was more to blame than he was. "Public opinion, "said the repentant orator, "is practically the paramount law of the land. Every other law, both human and divine, ceases to be observed; yea, withers and perishes in contact with it. It was this paramount law of thisnation and of this House that forced me, under the penalty of dishonour, to subject myself to the code, which impelled me unwillingly into thistragical affair. Upon the heads of this nation, and at the doors of thisHouse, rests the blood with which my unfortunate hands have been stained!"

As long as society is in this mood; as long as it thinks that the man whorefuses to resent an insult, deserved that insult, and should be scoutedaccordingly; so long, it is to be feared, will duelling exist, howeversevere the laws may be. Men must have redress for injuries inflicted; andwhen those injuries are of such a nature that no tribunal will takecognisance of them, the injured will take the law into their own hands, and right themselves in the opinion of their fellows, at the hazard oftheir lives. Much as the sage may affect to despise the opinion of theworld, there are few who would not rather expose their lives a hundredtimes than be condemned to live on, in society, but not of it--a by-wordof reproach to all who know their history, and a mark for scorn to pointhis finger at. 

The only practicable means for diminishing the force of a custom which isthe disgrace of civilisation, seems to be the establishment of a court ofhonour, which should take cognisance of all those delicate and almostintangible offences which yet wound so deeply. The court established byLouis XIV. Might be taken as a model. No man now fights a duel when a fitapology has been offered; and it should be the duty of this court to weighdispassionately the complaint of every man injured in his honour, eitherby word or deed, and to force the offender to make a public apology. If herefused the apology, he would be the breaker of a second law; an offenderagainst a high court, as well as against the man he had injured, and mightbe punished with fine and imprisonment, the latter to last until he sawthe error of his conduct, and made the concession which the courtdemanded. 

If, after the establishment of this tribunal, men should be found of anature so bloodthirsty as not to be satisfied with its peaceful decisions, and should resort to the old and barbarous mode of an appeal to thepistol, some means might be found of dealing with them. To hang them asmurderers would be of no avail; for to such men death would have fewterrors. Shame alone would bring them to reason. Transportation, thetread-wheel, or a public whipping, would perhaps be sufficient. 

RELICS. 

 A fouth o' auld knick-knackets, Rusty airn caps and jinglin' jackets, Wad hand the Lothians three, in tackets, A towmond guid; An' parritch pats, and auld saut backets, Afore the flood. BURNS. 

[Illustration: T]

The love for relics is one which will never be eradicated as long asfeeling and affection are denizens of the heart. It is a love which ismost easily excited in the best and kindliest natures, and which few arecallous enough to scoff at. Who would not treasure the lock of hair thatonce adorned the brow of the faithful wife now cold in death, or that hungdown the neck of a beloved infant now sleeping under the sward? Not one!They are home-relics, whose sacred worth is intelligible to all: spoilsrescued from the devouring grave, which to the affectionate are beyond allprice. How dear to a forlorn survivor the book over whose pages he haspored with one departed! How much greater its value, if that hand, nowcold, had written a thought, an opinion, or a name, upon the leaf! Besidesthese sweet domestic relics, there are others which no one can condemn:relics sanctified by that admiration of greatness and goodness which isakin to love; such as the copy of Montaigne's _Florio_, with the name ofShakspeare upon the leaf, written by the poet of all time himself; thechair preserved at Antwerp, in which Rubens sat when he painted theimmortal Descent from the Cross; or the telescope, preserved in the Museumof Florence, which aided Galileo in his sublime discoveries. Who would notlook with veneration upon the undoubted arrow of William Tell--the swordsof Wallace or of Hampden--or the Bible whose leaves were turned by somestern old father of the faith?

Thus the principle of reliquism is hallowed and enshrined by love. Butfrom this germ of purity how numerous the progeny of errors andsuperstitions! Men, in their admiration of the great, and of all thatappertained to them, have forgotten that goodness is a component part oftrue greatness, and have made fools of themselves for the jawbone of asaint, the toe-nail of an apostle, the handkerchief a king blew his nosein, or the rope that hanged a criminal. Desiring to rescue some slighttoken from the graves of their predecessors, they have confounded thefamous and the infamous, the renowned and the notorious. Great saints, great sinners; great philosophers, great quacks; great conquerors, greatmurderers; great ministers, great thieves; each and all have had theiradmirers, ready to ransack earth, from the equator to either pole, to finda relic of them. 

The reliquism of modern times dates its origin from the centuriesimmediately preceding the Crusades. The first pilgrims to the Holy Landbrought back to Europe thousands of apocryphal relics, in the purchase ofwhich they had expended all their store. The greatest favourite was thewood of the true cross, which, like the oil of the widow, neverdiminished. It is generally asserted, in the traditions of the RomishChurch, that the Empress Helen, the mother of Constantine the Great, firstdiscovered the veritable "_true cross_" in her pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The Emperor Theodosius made a present of the greater part of it to St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, by whom it was studded with precious stones, anddeposited in the principal church of that city. It was carried away by theHuns, by whom it was burnt, after they had extracted the valuable jewelsit contained. Fragments, purporting to have been cut from it, were, in theeleventh and twelfth centuries, to be found in almost every church inEurope, and would, if collected together in one place, have been almostsufficient to have built a cathedral. Happy was the sinner who could get asight of one of them; happier he who possessed one! To obtain them thegreatest dangers were cheerfully braved. They were thought to preservefrom all evils, and to cure the most inveterate diseases. Annualpilgrimages were made to the shrines that contained them, and considerablerevenues collected from the devotees. 

Next in renown were those precious relics, the tears of the Saviour. Bywhom and in what manner they were preserved, the pilgrims did not inquire. Their genuineness was vouched by the Christians of the Holy Land, and thatwas sufficient. Tears of the Virgin Mary, and tears of St. Peter, werealso to be had, carefully enclosed in little caskets, which the piousmight wear in their bosoms. After the tears the next most precious relicswere drops of the blood of Jesus and the martyrs, and the milk of theVirgin Mary. Hair and toe-nails were also in great repute, and were soldat extravagant prices. Thousands of pilgrims annually visited Palestine inthe eleventh and twelfth centuries, to purchase pretended relics for thehome market. The majority of them had no other means of subsistence thanthe profits thus obtained. Many a nail, cut from the filthy foot of someunscrupulous ecclesiastic, was sold at a diamond's price, within sixmonths after its severance from its parent toe, upon the supposition thatit had once belonged to a saint or an apostle. Peter's toes wereuncommonly prolific, for there were nails enough in Europe, at the time ofthe Council of Clermont, to have filled a sack, all of which were devoutlybelieved to have grown on the sacred feet of that great apostle. Some ofthem are still shewn in the cathedral of Aix-la-Chapelle. The pious comefrom a distance of a hundred German miles to feast their eyes upon them. 

At Port Royal, in Paris, is kept with great care a thorn, which thepriests of that seminary assert to be one of the identical thorns thatbound the holy head of the Son of God. How it came there, and by whom itwas preserved, has never been explained. This is the famous thorn, celebrated in the long dissensions of the Jansenists and the Molenists, and which worked the miraculous cure upon Mademoiselle Perrier: by merelykissing it she was cured of a disease of the eyes of long standing. [71]

 [71] Voltaire, _Siècle de Louis XIV_. 

What traveller is unacquainted with the Santa Scala, or Holy Stairs, atRome? They were brought from Jerusalem along with the true cross, by theEmpress Helen, and were taken from the house which, according to populartradition, was inhabited by Pontius Pilate. They are said to be the stepswhich Jesus ascended and descended when brought into the presence of theRoman governor. They are held in the greatest veneration at Rome: it issacrilegious to walk upon them. The knees of the faithful must alone touchthem in ascending or descending, and that only after the pilgrims havereverentially kissed them. 

Europe still swarms with these religious relics. There is hardly a RomanCatholic church in Spain, Portugal, Italy, France, or Belgium, without oneor more of them. Even the poorly endowed churches of the villages boastthe possession of miraculous thigh-bones of the innumerable saints of theRomish calendar. Aix-la-Chapelle is proud of the veritable _châsse_, orthigh-bone of Charlemagne, which cures lameness. Halle has a thigh-bone ofthe Virgin Mary; Spain has seven or eight, all said to be undoubtedrelics. Brussels at one time preserved, and perhaps does now, the teeth ofSt. Gudule. The faithful, who suffered from the toothache, had only topray, look at them, and be cured. Some of these holy bones have beenburied in different parts of the Continent. After a certain lapse of time, water is said to ooze from them, which soon forms a spring, and cures allthe diseases of the faithful. 

It is curious to remark the avidity manifested in all ages, and in allcountries, to obtain possession of some relic of any persons who have beenmuch spoken of, even for their crimes. When William Longbeard, leader ofthe populace of London in the reign of Richard I. , was hanged atSmithfield, the utmost eagerness was shewn to obtain a hair from his head, or a shred from his garments. Women came from Essex, Kent, Suffolk, Sussex, and all the surrounding counties, to collect the mould at the footof his gallows. A hair of his beard was believed to preserve from evilspirits, and a piece of his clothes from aches and pains. 

In more modern days, a similar avidity was shewn to obtain a relic of theluckless Masaniello, the fisherman of Naples. After he had been raised bymob favour to a height of power more despotic than monarch ever wielded, he was shot by the same populace in the streets, as if he had been a maddog. His headless trunk was dragged through the mire for several hours, and cast at night-fall into the city ditch. On the morrow the tide ofpopular feeling turned once more in his favour. His corpse was sought, arrayed in royal robes, and buried magnificently by torch-light in thecathedral, ten thousand armed men, and as many mourners, attending at theceremony. The fisherman's dress which he had worn was rent into shreds bythe crowd, to be preserved as relics; the door of his hut was pulled offits hinges by a mob of women, and eagerly cut up into small pieces, to bemade into images, caskets, and other mementos. The scanty furniture of hispoor abode became of more value than the adornments of a palace; theground he had walked upon was considered sacred, and, being collected insmall phials, was sold at its weight in gold, and worn in the bosom as anamulet. 

Almost as extraordinary was the frenzy manifested by the populace of Parison the execution of the atrocious Marchioness de Brinvilliers. There weregrounds for the popular wonder in the case of Masaniello, who wasunstained with personal crimes. But the career of Madame de Brinvillierswas of a nature to excite no other feelings than disgust and abhorrence. She was convicted of poisoning several persons, and sentenced to be burnedin the Place de Grève, and to have her ashes scattered to the winds. Onthe day of her execution, the populace, struck by her gracefulness andbeauty, inveighed against the severity of her sentence. Their pity soonincreased to admiration, and, ere evening, she was considered a saint. Herashes were industriously collected; even the charred wood, which had aidedto consume her, was eagerly purchased by the populace. Her ashes werethought to preserve from witchcraft. 

In England many persons have a singular love for the relics of thieves andmurderers, or other great criminals. The ropes with which they have beenhanged are very often bought by collectors at a guinea per foot. Greatsums were paid for the rope which hanged Dr. Dodd, and for those morerecently which did justice upon Mr. Fauntleroy for forgery, and onThurtell for the murder of Mr. Weare. The murder of Maria Marten, byCorder, in the year 1828, excited the greatest interest all over thecountry. People came from Wales and Scotland, and even from Ireland, tovisit the barn where the body of the murdered woman was buried. Every oneof them was anxious to carry away some memorial of his visit. Pieces ofthe barn-door, tiles from the roof, and, above all, the clothes of thepoor victim, were eagerly sought after. A lock of her hair was sold fortwo guineas, and the purchaser thought himself fortunate in getting it socheaply. 

So great was the concourse of people to visit the house in CamberwellLane, where Greenacre murdered Hannah Brown, in 1837, that it was foundnecessary to station a strong detachment of police on the spot. The crowdwas so eager to obtain a relic of the house of this atrocious criminal, that the police were obliged to employ force to prevent the tables andchairs, and even the doors, from being carried away. 

In earlier times, a singular superstition was attached to the hand of acriminal who had suffered execution. It was thought that by merely rubbingthe dead hand on the body, the patient afflicted with the king's evilwould be instantly cured. The executioner at Newgate formerly derived noinconsiderable revenue from this foolish practice. The possession of thehand was thought to be of still greater efficacy in the cure of diseasesand the prevention of misfortunes. In the time of Charles II. , as much asten guineas was thought a small price for one of these disgusting relics. 

When the maniac, Thom, or Courtenay, was shot, in the spring of 1838, therelic-hunters were immediately in motion to obtain a memento of soextraordinary an individual. His long black beard and hair, which were cutoff by the surgeons, fell into the hands of his disciples, by whom theywere treasured with the utmost reverence. A lock of his hair commanded agreat price, not only amongst his followers, but among the more wealthyinhabitants of Canterbury and its neighbourhood. The tree against which hefell when he was shot, was stripped of all its bark by the curious; whilea letter, with his signature to it, was paid for in gold coins; and hisfavourite horse became as celebrated as its master. Parties of ladies andgentlemen went to Boughton from a distance of a hundred and fifty miles, to visit the scene of that fatal affray, and stroke on the back the horseof the "mad knight of Malta. " If a strict watch had not been kept over hisgrave for months, the body would have been disinterred, and the bonescarried away as memorials. 

Among the Chinese no relics are more valued than the _boots_ which havebeen worn by an upright magistrate. In Davis's interesting description ofthe empire of China, we are informed, that whenever a judge of unusualintegrity resigns his situation, the people all congregate to do himhonour. If he leaves the city where he has presided, the crowd accompanyhim from his residence to the gates, where his boots are drawn off withgreat ceremony, to be preserved in the hall of justice. Their place isimmediately supplied by a new pair, which, in their turn, are drawn off tomake room for others before he has worn them five minutes, it beingconsidered sufficient to consecrate them that he should have merely drawnthem on. 

Among the most favourite relics of modern times, in Europe, areShakspeare's mulberry-tree, Napoleon's willow, and the table at Waterlooon which the emperor wrote his despatches. Snuff-boxes of Shakspeare'smulberry-tree are comparatively rare, though there are doubtless more ofthem in the market than were ever made of the wood planted by the greatbard. Many a piece of alien wood passes under this name. The same may besaid of Napoleon's table at Waterloo. The original has long since beendestroyed, and a round dozen of counterfeits along with it. Many preservethe simple stick of wood; others have them cut into brooches and everyvariety of ornament; but by far the greater number prefer them assnuff-boxes. In France they are made into _bonbonnières_, and are muchesteemed by the many thousands whose cheeks still glow and whose eyesstill sparkle at the name of Napoleon. 

Bullets from the field of Waterloo, and buttons from the coats of thesoldiers who fell in the fight, are still favourite relics in Europe. Butthe same ingenuity which found new tables after the old one was destroyed, has cast new bullets for the curious. Many a one who thinks himself thepossessor of a bullet which aided in giving peace to the world on thatmemorable day, is the owner of a dump, first extracted from the ore adozen years afterwards. Let all lovers of genuine relics look well totheir money before they part with it to the ciceroni that swarm in thevillage of Waterloo!

Few travellers stopped at the lonely isle of St. Helena without cutting atwig from the willow that drooped over the grave of Napoleon, prior to theremoval of the body by the government of Louis Philippe. Many of them havesince been planted in different parts of Europe, and have grown into treesas large as their parent. Relic-hunters, who are unable to procure a twigof the original, are content with one from these. Several of them aregrowing in the neighbourhood of London. 

But in relics, as in every thing else, there is the use and the abuse. Theundoubted relics of great men, or great events, will always possessattractions for the thinking and refined. There are few who would not joinwith Cowley in the extravagant wish introduced in his lines "written whilesitting in a chair made of the remains of the ship in which Sir FrancisDrake sailed round the world:"

 And I myself, who now love quiet too, Almost as much, as any chair can do, Would yet a journey take An old wheel of that chariot to see, Which Phaeton so rashly brake. 

END OF VOL. II. 

LONDON:

PRINTED BY LEVEY, ROBSON, AND FRANKLYN, GREAT NEW STREET, FETTER LANE. 

INDEX. 

Abraham, Noah, and Moses said to have been alchymists, i. 95, 114. 

Acre besieged in the Third Crusade, ii. 69; its surrender to the Christians, 71. 

Addison's account of a Rosicrucian, i. 177; his opinion on duelling, ii. 281. 

Agricola, George, the alchymist, memoir of, i. 145. 

Agrippa, Cornelius, memoir, and _portrait_ of, i. 138; his power of raising the dead and the absent, 142. 

Aislabie, Mr. , Chancellor of the Exchequer, his participation in the South-Sea fraud, i. 73, 78; rejoicings on his committal to the Tower, 79. 

Alain Delisle. (_See_ Delisle. )

Albertus Magnus, his studies in alchymy, i. 99; _portrait_ of, 100; his animated brazen statue destroyed by Thomas Aquinas, 100; his power to change the course of the seasons, 101. 

ALCHYMISTS, the, or Searches for the Philosopher's Stone and the Water of Life, i. 94-220; natural origin of the study of Alchymy, its connexion with astrology, &c. , i. 94; alleged antiquity of the study, 95; its early history, 96; Memoirs of Geber, 96; Alfarabi, 97; Avicenna, 98; Albertus Magnus, with _portrait_, Thomas Aquinas, 99; Artephius, 102; Alain Delisle, 102; Arnold de Villeneuve, with _portrait_, 103; receipt for the elixir vitæ ascribed to him, 103; Pietro d'Apone, 104; Raymond Lulli, with _portrait_, 105; Roger Bacon, 110; Pope John XXII. , 111; Jean de Meung, 112; Nicholas Flamel, 113; George Ripley, 118; Basil Valentine, 119; Bernard of Treves, 119; Trithemius, 124; Maréchal de Rays, 125; Jacques Coeur, 132; inferior adepts of the 14th and 15th centuries, 135; progress of the infatuation in the 16th and 17th centuries, 137-189; Augurello, 137; Cornelius Agrippa, with _portrait_, 138; Paracelsus, with _portrait_, 142; George Agricola, 145; Denis Zachaire, 146; Dr. Dee, with _portrait_, and Edward Kelly, 152; Dr. Dee's "Shewstone" (_engraving_), 154; the Cosmopolite, 163; the Rosicrucians, 167; Jacob Böhmen, 177; Mormius, 178; Borri, 179; inferior Alchymists of the 17th century, 185; their impositions, 188; Alchymy since that period, 189-220; Jean Delisle, 189; Albert Aluys, 197; the Count de St. Germain, 200; Cagliostro, 206; present state of Alchymy, 220. 

Alexius I. , Emperor, his treatment of the Crusaders, ii. 17-19; imprisons the Count of Vermandois, 23; is compelled to release him, 24; his fear of the Crusaders, 25; his treachery at Nice, 28; neglects the Crusaders at Antioch, 35, 42. 

Alexius III. , usurping the Greek empire, is expelled by the Crusaders, ii. 77. 

Alexius IV. Made Emperor of the Greeks by the aid of the Crusaders, ii. 77; his deposition and murder, 78. 

Alexius Ducas (Murzuphlis) chosen Emperor instead of Alexius IV. , ii. 78; defeated by the French and Venetians, 79. 

Alfarabi, the Alchymist, memoir of, i. 97. 

Almanac-makers: Lilly, Poor Robin, Partridge, Francis Moore, Matthew Laensbergh, i. 240. 

Aluys, Albert, the Alchymist, memoir of, i. 97. 

American laws against duelling, ii. 299. 

Amsterdam, witches burnt at, ii. 160. 

Animal Magnetism. (_See_ Magnetism. )

Andrews, Henry, the original of "Francis Moore, " _portrait_, i. 244. 

Anna Comnena, her notices of the Crusaders, ii. 22, 25. 

Anne, Queen, duels in her reign, ii. 289; her efforts to suppress them, 292. 

Antioch, besieged by the Crusaders, ii. 29; is taken by treachery, 32; sufferings of the Crusaders from famine and pestilence, 35; pretended discovery of the Holy Lance (_engraving_), 37; battle, and defeat of the Turks, 38; retaken by Saladin, 63. 

Aquinas, Thomas, his studies in Alchymy, i. 99; he destroys an animated brazen statue, 100; his magical performances, 101. 

Arabia, the chief seat of the Alchymists, i. 96. 

Arnold de Villeneuve. (_See_ De Villeneuve. )

Arras, _view_ of the Town-hall, ii. 101; persecution of the Waldenses at, 115. 

Art, works of, destroyed by the Crusaders at Constantinople, ii. 79. 

Artephius, his extravagant pretensions as an Alchymist, i. 102. 

Astrology, its prevalence in England, i. 243; account of Lilly's prophecies, 244; its connexion with Alchymy. (_See_ the Alchymists, Dr. Dee, &c. )

Augurello the Alchymist, memoir of, i. 137. 

Augury, an almost exploded study, i. 272. 

Aurea-crucians, a sect founded by Jacob Böhmen, i. 177. 

Avicenna the Alchymist, memoir of, i. 98. 

Bacon, Lord, _portrait of_, ii. 286; his opposition to duelling, 285, 287. 

Bacon, Roger, his pursuit of Alchymy, i. 110; his scientific discoveries, 111. 

Bagnone, Francisco, the magnetiser, i. 272. 

Bailly, M. , his account of Mesmer's experiments, i. 281, 293. 

Baldarroch Farm-house, "haunted, " ii. 235; investigation by the elders of the kirk; the noises caused by servant-girls, 237. 

Baldwin (King of Jerusalem), joins the Crusaders at Nice, ii. 27; becomes prince of Edessa, 30, 41; succeeds Godfrey as King of Jerusalem, 48; bible of his queen (_engraving_), 50. 

Baldwin, Count of Flanders, chosen Emperor of the Greeks, ii. 80. 

Ballads. (_See_ Songs. )

Bamberg, _view_ in; witches executed there, ii. 162. 

Banditti in Italy, ii. 256. 

Banking schemes of John Law, i. 4. 

Bank of England, its competition with the South-Sea Company, i. 48, 66. 

Baptism mocked in the witches' "Sabbaths, " ii. 109. 

Barbarin, Chevalier de, his experiments in animal magnetism, i. 286. 

Barbarossa, the Emperor, commences the Third Crusade; his death, ii. 63, 64. 

Barthelemy, Peter, his pretended vision and discovery of the "holy lance;" its effect on the Crusaders; battle of Antioch, the Turks defeated, ii. 35-40; charged with falsehood, subjected to the fiery ordeal, and burnt to death, 41. 

Bastille, the. (_See_ Paris. )

Bavaria, ordinance against moustaches, i. 302. 

Beards forbidden to be worn; religious and political prejudices, i. 296-303. (_See_ Hair. )

Beckmann's remarks on the tulip, i. 86. 

"Beggar's Opera, " its popularity and immoral influence, ii. 258. 

Beranger's Song, "Thirteen at Table, " i. 257. 

Bernard of Treves, the Alchymist, memoir of, i. 119. 

Best and Lord Camelford, their fatal duel, ii. 297. 

Bethlehem, Shrine of the Nativity (_engraving_), ii. 43; Richard I. Arrives there; _view_ of the city, ii. 73. 

Bible of the Queen of Baldwin, King of Jerusalem, (_engraving_), ii. 50. 

"Blue Beard, " the Maréchal de Rays his supposed prototype, i. 132. 

Blunt, Sir John, Chairman of the South-Sea Bubble, his share in the fraud, i. 63, 74, 77; his examination by Parliament, 75; his property confiscated, 81; Pope's sketch of him, 74. 

Bodinus, his persecution of witches, ii. 159. 

Boerhave, his belief in Alchymy, i. 185. 

Bohemund, his courage displayed in the Crusades, ii. 21, 28, 30, 31, 35, 38, 39; takes Antioch, by treachery in the garrison, 32; is made Prince of Antioch, 32, 41. 

Böhmen, Jacob, the Alchymist, memoir of, i. 177. 

Bonfires on Tower Hill, on the committal of the South-Sea schemers, i. 79. 

Booker, an astrologer, notice of, i. 244. 

Boots, torture of the (_engraving_), ii. 131. 

Borri, the Alchymist, memoir of, i. 179. 

Bourdeaux, haunted house at, ii. 221. 

Bourges, house of Jaques Coeur (_engraving_), i. 134. 

Boyd, Captain, killed in a duel, ii. 293. 

"Brabant Screen, " the, a caricature of the South-Sea Bubble, i. 76. 

Breda, siege of, i. 270. 

Bremen, Nadel's escape from prison, ii. 257. 

Brinvilliers, Madame de, her atrocious murders; escape from France; subsequent trial and execution, ii. 208-214; relics of her fate anxiously sought after, 305. 

Brown, Sir Thomas, _portrait_ of; his belief in witchcraft, ii. 151. 

Bubble Companies, contemporaneously with the South-Sea Scheme, their extravagant character, i. 52; profits of the promoters, 53; declared unlawful, 55, 86; companies dissolved, 57. 

"Bubble Cards, " or Caricatures, i. 60, 61. 

Buckingham, Villiers, Duke of, his rise in the favour of James I. , ii. 197; _portrait_ of, 198; suspected to have poisoned the king, 201. 

Byron, Lord, his trial for the murder of Mr. Chaworth in a duel, ii. 292. 

Byron, Lord, his poetical villains, ii. 259. 

Cagliostro, memoir of, i. 206; his adventures in London, 209; _view_ of his house, 215; implicated in the theft of the diamond necklace, tried and acquitted, 216-220; again in London, imprisonment and death at Rome, 220. 

Cagliostro, the Countess, i. 208; his accomplice; her wit, beauty, and ingenuity, 213-216. 

Cambridge University, annual sermon against witchcraft, ii. 127. 

Camelford, Lord, killed in a duel, ii. 297. 

Camhel, Sultan, his generosity to the Christians, ii. 84, 85. 

Campbell, Major, his duel with Capt. Boyd, and execution, ii. 293. 

Candlemas Eve, superstitious customs, i. 258. 

Cant phrases. (_See_ Popular follies. )

Cards. (_See_ Fortune-telling. )

Caricatures, referring to the Mississippi Scheme (_four engravings_), i. 25, 29, 37, 40, 44. 

Caricatures of the South-Sea Bubble (_seven engravings_), i. 60, 61, 68, 70, 76, 82, 84. 

Casaubon, his account of Dr. Dee's intercourse with spirits, i. 155. 

"Chambre Ardente, " instituted by Louis XIV. For the trial of poisoners, ii. 214, 283. 

Change Alley during the South-Sea Bubble (_engraving_), i. 60. 

Charlemagne, his edicts against witches, ii. 109. 

Charles I. Prevents a duel, ii. 287. 

Charles II. , his disgraceful conduct in reference to a duel, ii. 288. 

Charles VI. Of France, his studies in Alchymy, i. 117; his work on that subject, 136. 

Charles IX. Of France, his patronage of _Nostradamus_, i. 246; _portrait of_, ii. 119; his belief in witchcraft, 120. 

Chaworth, Mr. , killed by Lord Byron in a duel, ii. 292. 

Chemistry, its connexion with Alchymy; valuable discoveries of the Alchymists, i. 207, 221. 

Children in the Crusades; their personal bravery, ii. 45; are sold to slavery, 81. 

Children executed for witchcraft, ii. 163, 179, 181. 

Christina, Queen of Sweden, her patronage of Alchymy, i. 183, 185. 

Clermont, Urban II. Preaches the Crusade there; cathedral of (_engraving_), ii. 9. 

Cock-Lane Ghost, history of the deception; _views_ of the "haunted house, " ii. 228, 230. 

Coeur, Jaques, memoir of, i. 132; his house at Bourges (_engraving_), 132. 

Cohreddin, Sultan, his generosity to the Christians, ii. 84, 85. 

Coke, Chief Justice, _portrait_ of, ii. 199; the poisoners of Sir Thomas Overbury tried by him, 198. 

Collins, Joseph, contriver of mysterious noises at Woodstock Palace, ii. 224. 

Comets regarded as omens, i. 223, 225; actually dangerous, 228. 

Conrad, Emperor of Germany, joins the Crusades, ii. 56; reaches Jerusalem, 60; returns to Europe, 62. 

Constance, _view_ of the town gate, ii. 116; witches executed there, 117, 160. 

Constantinople during the Crusades, ii. 17, 23-26, 56, 77-80; _view_ of, 78. 

Contumacy (refusing to plead to a criminal charge); its severe punishment, ii. 199. 

Cornhill at the time of the South-Sea Bubble (_engraving_), i. 51. 

Cosmopolite, the, an anonymous alchymist, memoir of, i. 163. 

Cowley's poetical description of the tulip, i. 86; his lines on relics of great men, ii. 308. 

Craggs, Mr. Secretary, _portrait_ of, i. 64; his participation in the South-Sea Bubble, 64, 71, 73, 77, 78; his death, 80. 

Craggs, Mr. , father of the above, his participation in the fraud; his death, i. 80. 

Criminals, anxiety to possess relics of their crimes, ii. 306. (_See_ Thieves. )

Cromwell, Sir Samuel, his persecution of "The Witches of Warbois, " ii. 126. 

Cross, trial or ordeal of the, ii. 264. 

Cross, the true. (_See_ Relics. )

CRUSADES, The, ii. 1-100; differently represented in history and in romance; pilgrimages before the Crusades, ii. 2; encouraged by Haron al Reschid; pilgrims taxed by the Fatemite caliphs; increase of pilgrimages in anticipation of the millenium, 3; oppressions of the Turks; consequent indignation of the pilgrims, 4; Peter the Hermit espouses their cause; state of the public mind in Europe, 5; motives leading to the Crusades, 6; Peter the Hermit stimulates the Pope; his personal appearance, 7; council at Placentia, 8; the Pope preaches the Crusade at Clermont, 9; enthusiasm of the people, 10; increased by signs and portents, 11; zeal of the women, 12; crowds of Crusaders, 13; "The truce of God" proclaimed; dissipation of the Crusaders, 14; popular leaders; Walter the Penniless, and Gottschalk, 15; conflicts with the Hungarians, 15, 16; Peter the Hermit defeated; arrives at Constantinople, 17; the Emperor Alexius; dissensions and reverses of the first Crusaders, 18; Peter the Hermit assisted by Alexius, 19; fresh hordes from Germany and France; their cruelty to the Jews, 20; defeated in Hungary; fresh leaders; Godfrey of Bouillon, Hugh count of Vermandois, Robert duke of Normandy, Robert count of Flanders and Bohemund, 21; the immense number of their forces; Hugh of Vermandois imprisoned, 23; his release obtained by Godfrey of Bouillon, 24; insolence of Count Robert of Paris; weakness of Alexius, 25; the siege of Nice, 26; barbarity of the Crusaders and Musselmen; anecdote of Godfrey of Bouillon, 27; Nice surrenders to Alexius; battle of Doryloeum, 28; improvidence and sufferings of the Crusaders, 29, 30; the siege of Antioch, 29, 31; Crusaders reduced to famine, 30; Antioch taken by treachery in the garrison (_engraving_), 32; the city invested by the Turks, 34; increasing famine and desertion, 35; Peter Barthelemy, his pretended vision, and discovery of the "Holy Lance" (_engraving_), 35-37, 40; revival of enthusiasm, 38; battle of Antioch, and defeat of the Turks, 38; dissensions, 40; fate of Peter Barthelemy, 41; Marah taken by storm, 42; shrine of the nativity at Bethlehem, (_engraving_), 43; first sight of Jerusalem (_engraving_), 44; the city besieged and taken, 45; Peter the Hermit's fame revives, 46; Jerusalem under its Christian kings, 48; Godfrey of Bouillon succeeded by Baldwin; continual conflicts with the Saracens; Edessa taken by them, 50. 

 _Second Crusade_:--Society in Europe at its commencement, 52; St. Bernard's preaching; Louis VII. Joins the Crusaders, 53-55; receives the cross at Vezelai (_engraving_), 54; is joined by Conrad emperor of Germany and a large army, 56; their reception by Manuel Comnenus, 57; losses of the German army, 58; progress to Nice, and thence to Jerusalem, 60; jealousies of the leaders; siege of Damascus, 61; further dissensions; the siege abandoned, 62. 

 _Third Crusade_:--Progress of chivalry, 62; successes of Saladin, 63; Barbarossa defeats the Saracens, 64; Crusade joined by Henry II. And Philip Augustus, 64; they meet at Gisors (_engraving_), 65; the Crusade unpopular, 66; delayed by war between France and England, death of Henry II. ; Richard and Philip proceed to Palestine, 67; Richard attacks the Sicilians, 68; arrives at Acre, 69; siege and surrender of the city, 71; dissensions, Philip returns to France, Saladin defeated at Azotus, 72; Crusaders reach Bethlehem (_engraving_), retreat agreed on, 73; Jaffa attacked by Saladin and rescued by Richard, peace concluded, Richard's imprisonment and ransom, 74. 

 _Fourth Crusade_, undertaken by the Germans; its failure, 75. 

 _Fifth Crusade_:--Foulque, Bishop of Neuilly, enlists the chivalry of France; assisted by the Venetians; siege of Zara, 76; Crusaders expel Alexius III. From Constantinople, 77; Alexius IV. Deposed, 78; Murzuphlis defeated by the Crusaders and Venetians, 79; Baldwin count of Flanders, elected emperor; Pilgrimages to Jerusalem; children undertaking the Crusade are betrayed to slavery, 80. 

 _Sixth Crusade_, prompted by the Pope, 81; undertaken by the King of Hungary; pursued in Egypt; Damietta taken, 82; Cardinal Pelagius and John of Brienne, 83; dissensions and reverses; Damietta abandoned, 84. 

 _Seventh Crusade_:--Undertaken by Frederick II. Of Germany, 84; intrigues against him; he is excommunicated, 85; crowns himself King of Jerusalem, 86; supported by the Templars and Hospitallers (_engraving_), 86; returns to Germany, 87. 

 _Eighth Crusade_, commenced in France, 87: battle of Gaza; Richard earl of Cornwall; truce agreed on; the Korasmins take Jerusalem, 88; they subdue the Templars, but are extirpated by the Syrian sultans, 90. 

 _Ninth Crusade_, began by Louis IX. , 90; joined by William Longsword (_engraving_), 91; the Crusade unpopular in England, 91-97; Damietta taken, 93; battle of Massoura; Louis taken prisoner by the Saracens; his ransom and return, 94; excitement in France, 95. 

 _Tenth Crusade_, by Louis IX. And Prince Edward of England, 95; Louis dies at Carthage, 96; Edward arrives at Acre, 97; defeats the Turks at Nazereth; is treacherously wounded; the legend of Queen Eleanor, 98; her tomb at Westminster (_engraving_); a truce concluded; Edward returns to England; subsequent fate of the Holy Land, 99; civilising influence of the Crusades, 100. 

Currency in France, the Mississippi scheme, i. 4. 

D'Aguesseau, Chancellor of France, his opposition to the Mississippi scheme, i. 11; _portrait_ of; his financial measures, 33. 

Damascus, besieged by the Crusaders (_engraving_), ii. 61. 

Damietta besieged by the Crusaders, ii. 83, 93. 

Dances of witches and toads, ii. 108, 109. 

D'Ancre, the Maréchale, executed for witchcraft, ii. 166. 

Dandolo, Doge of Venice, his encouragement of the Crusaders, ii. 76. 

D'Apone, Pietro, his studies in alchymy; his command of money; charged with heresy, is tortured, and dies in prison, i. 104; _portrait_ of, ii. 140. 

D'Argenson, French minister of finance, a supporter of the Mississippi scheme, i. 11, 42; _portrait_ of, 42. 

Dead, the. (_See_ Raising the Dead. )

De Bouteville, a famous duellist, _temp. _ Louis XIII. , ii. 280; beheaded by the justice of Richelieu, 281. 

Dee, Dr. , memoir and _portrait_ of, i. 152; his "shew-stone" in the British Museum (_engraving_), 154. 

De Jarnac and La Chataigneraie, their famous duel, ii. 273. 

Deleuze, M. , his absurd theories on animal magnetism, i. 291. 

Delisle, Alain, an alchymist, i. 102. 

Delisle, Jean, the alchymist, memoir of, i. 189; his success in transmuting metals, attested by the Bishop of Senes, 193; his imprisonment and death, 197. 

Delrio, his persecution of witches, ii. 159. 

De Meung, Jean, author of the _Roman de la Rose_, his study of alchymy, his libel on the fair sex, i. 112. 

Demons, popular belief in, ii. 105; their powers and propensities, 106, 107; their meetings or "Sabbaths, " 107. (_See_ Witchcraft and the Alchymists. )

De Nogent, his description of Peter the Hermit, ii. 7; of the enthusiasm of the first Crusaders, 12, 23. 

De Rays, Maréchale, the alchymist, memoir of, i. 125. 

De Rohan, Cardinal, his patronage of Cagliostro, i. 213-215; his connexion with Marie Antoinette and the diamond necklace, 216-220. 

D'Eslon, a pupil of Mesmer, i. 276, 280. 

Desmarets, Minister of France, his belief in alchymy, i. 192. 

Devil, the, old popular notions of, ii. 103; various forms assumed by him, 106, 107; presided at the witches' "Sabbath, " 108; his appearance to De Rays and Agrippa, i. 129, 142. 

De Villeneuve, Arnold, his skill as a physician, astrologer and alchymist (with _portrait_), i. 103. 

D'Horn, Count, murders a broker, and steals his Mississippi bonds (_engraving_), i. 21; efforts to save his life, inflexibility of the Regent, his execution, 22, 23. 

Diamond, famous, purchased by the Regent Orleans, i. 27. 

Diamond Necklace of Marie Antoinette, history of the theft, i. 206-220. 

Diamonds worn by the Count St. Germain, i. 203; his power of removing flaws in, 204. 

Digby, Sir Kenelm, a believer in the virtues of "weapon-salve, " i. 265. 

Diseases cured by imagination, i. 262, 272; pretended influence of magnetism, 262. (_See_ the MAGNETISERS. )

Divination, its popularity; by cards, the tea-cup, the palm of the hand, the rod, and other modes, i. 251. 

"Domdaniel, " or Witches' Sabbath. (_See_ Witchcraft. )

Dorylæum, battle of, ii. 28. 

Dowston, John, an English alchymist, i. 136. 

Dramas on the adventures of thieves; their popularity and evil influence, ii. 253, 257-260. 

Dreams, interpretation of, i. 253. 

Dreams on particular nights, i. 258. 

Dream-books, their extensive sale, i. 254. 

Du Pompadour, Madame, and the Count de St. Germain, i. 201. 

Dupotet, M. , his account of Mesmer's experiments, i. 279, 285. 

Drummer of Tedworth. (_See_ Haunted Houses. )

Du Barri, Vicomte, killed in a duel at Bath, ii. 293. 

DUELS AND ORDEALS, ii. 261-301; the ordeal by combat, or trial by battle, its natural origin; authorised by law, 262; discouraged by the clergy, 263; the oath upon the Evangelists, 264; judgment by the cross, 264; fire-ordeal, 265; ordeals used by modern Hindoos, 265; water ordeal, 265; the _corsned_, or bread and cheese ordeal, 266; ordeals superseded by judicial combats, 267; duels of Ingelgerius and Gontran (_engraving_), 269; De Montfort and the Earl of Essex, 270; Du Guesclin and Troussel (_engraving_), 261, 271; Carrouges and Legris, 272; La Chataigneraie and De Jarnac, 273; L'Isle-Marivaut and Marolles, 276; the Dukes de Beaufort and de Nemours, 282; Count de Bussy and Bruc, 282; frivolous causes of duels, 270, 271, 276, 282, 292, 296; their prevalence in France, 276, 277, 279, 280, 282; the custom opposed by Sully and Henry IV. ; council at Fontainebleau (_engraving_), and royal edict, 277-279; efforts of Richelieu to suppress duelling, 280; De Bouteville, a famous duellist, beheaded by the justice of Richelieu; opinion of Addison on duelling, 281; duels in Germany, 282; severe edict by Louis XIV. , 283; singular laws of Malta, 284; judicial combat in the reign of Queen Elizabeth; Lord Bacon opposes duelling, 285; Lord Sanquir's duel with Turner; his execution for murder; combat between Lord Reay and David Ramsay prevented by Charles I. , 287; Orders of the Commonwealth and Charles II. Against the practice; Duke of Buckingham's duel with Earl Shrewsbury; disgraceful conduct of Charles II. , 288; practice of seconds in duels fighting as well as principals, 280, 288; arguments of Addison, Steele, and Swift, 288; duels in England; Sir C. Deering and Mr. Thornhill; Duke of Marlborough and Earl Pawlet; Duke of Hamilton and Lord Mohun; trial of General Macartney, 289-292; Wilson killed by John Law, i. 3; Mr. Chaworth killed by Lord Byron, ii. 292; Vicomte Du Barri by Count Rice, the Duke of York and Colonel Lennox, 293; Irish duels, 294; Major Campbell executed for the death of Captain Boyd, 296; Macnamara and Montgomery; duels of German students, 297; Best and Lord Camelford, 297; Frederick the Great and Joseph II. Of Austria opposed to duelling, 298; other European edicts; laws of America, 299; general reflections, 300. 

Du Guesclin and Troussel, their duel (_engraving, _) ii. 261, 271. 

Du Fresnoy's history of the Hermetic Philosophy, i. 95, 96. 

Duncan, Gellie, and her accomplices tried for witchcraft; their absurd confessions, ii. 129-135. 

Duval, Claude, popular admiration of; Butler's ode to his memory, ii. 255. 

Earthquakes prophesied in London, i. 224, 230. 

Edessa taken by the Crusaders, ii. 30; retaken by the Saracens, 50. 

Edward I. , his great seal (_engraving_), ii. 97. 

Edward II. Joins the last Crusade, ii. 95; arrives at Acre, 97; treacherously wounded, 98; his patronage of Raymond Lulli the alchymist, i. 108; its supposed motive, 135. 

Edward IV. , his encouragement of alchymy, i. 135. 

Edward VI. , his patronage of Dr. Dee, i. 152. 

Egypt, the Crusaders in, ii. 83, 84, 90, 92, 93. 

Elias claimed as a Rosicrucian, i. 175. 

Elixir Vitæ. (_See_ Alchymists. )

Eleanor, Queen of Edward II. , her tomb at Westminster (_engraving_), ii. 99. 

Elizabeth, Queen, her patronage of Dr. Dee, i. 153, 162. 

Elwes, Sir Jervis, his participation in the poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury, his execution, ii. 194, 197, 199. 

End of the world prophesied in the year 999, i. 222; by Whiston in 1736, 223. 

Epigrams on John Law and the Mississippi Scheme, i. 24, 37. 

Essex, Countess of, afterwards Countess of Somerset. (_See_ Somerset. )

Executions for witchcraft. (_See_ Witchcraft. )

Ezekiel claimed as a Rosicrucian, i. 175. 

Falling stars regarded as omens, i. 223; falling stars and other meteors before the Crusades, ii. 11. 

Faria, the Abbé, the magnetiser, i. 294. 

Fashion of short and long hair, beards, and moustaches, i. 296-303. 

Female Crusaders. (_See_ Women. )

Feudalism at the commencement of the Crusades, ii. 5. 

Fian, Dr. , tortured for witchcraft, ii. 131. 

Finance in France; the Mississippi scheme, i. 2, 6. 

Fire-ordeal. (_See_ Duels and Ordeals. )

Flamel, Nicholas, the alchymist, memoir of i. 113. 

Florimond on the prevalence of witchcraft, ii. 115. 

Flowers, fruits, and trees, their significance in dreams, i. 254. 

Fludd, Robert, the father of the English Rosicrucians, memoir of, i. 173; introduces "weapon-salve" in England, 265. 

Follies of great cities; cant, or slang phrases, ii. 239-248. 

Fontainebleau, council held by Henry IV. And edict against duelling (_engraving_), ii. 278. 

Food, its necessity denied by the Rosicrucians, i. 176. 

Forman, Dr. , his participation in the poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury, ii. 194. 

FORTUNE-TELLING, i. 242-258; presumption of man; his anxiety to penetrate futurity, 242. _Judicial astrologers_: Lilly, 243. Astrology in France, Louis XI. , Catherine de Medicis, Nostradamus (_portrait_), 246; the Medici family, 247; Antiochus Tibertus, 247; horoscope of Louis XIV. 249; Kepler's excuse for astrology, 249. _Necromancy_, _Geomancy_, _Augury_, _Divination_, 250; various kinds of divination; cards, the palm, the rod, &c. , 251; interpretation of dreams, 253. 

Foulque, Bishop of Neuilly, promoter of the fifth Crusade, ii. 76. 

France, its finances in the eighteenth century; the Mississippi scheme, i. 5, 6; the Crusade preached there, ii. 8; the cathedral of Clermont (_engraving_), ii. 9; executions for witchcraft, ii. 119, 122, 174; existing belief in witchcraft there, ii. 189; the slow poisoners in, ii. 208; immense rage for duelling in France, 276, 277, 279, 280; alchymy in France. (_See_ the Alchymists, Paris, Tours, &c. )

Franklin, an apothecary, his participation in the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury, ii. 195, 198, 199. 

Frederick the Great, his opposition to duelling, ii. 298. 

Frederick II. , Emperor of Germany, undertakes the Crusade, ii. 84; crowns himself king at Jerusalem, 86; returns to Germany, 87. 

Frederick III. Of Denmark, his patronage of alchymy, i. 183. 

Gambling speculations. (_See_ Mississippi Scheme and South-Sea Bubble. )

Garinet, Jules, his _Histoire de la Magie en France_, ii. 105, 109, 122, 189, 221. 

Gateway of Merchant-Tailors' Hall, with South-Sea speculators (_engraving_), i. 62. 

Gay, the poet, his shares in the South-Sea Company, i. 65. 

Geber, the alchymist, memoir of, i. 96; his scientific discoveries; English translation of his work, 97. 

Geomancy described, i. 250. 

Geoffrey, M. , his exposure of the tricks of alchymists, i. 188. 

George I. , his speeches and proclamation on the South-Sea Bubble, i. 47-55, 69; his grief on the death of the Earl of Stanhope, i. 75. 

George III. Refuses to pardon Major Campbell for the death of Capt. Boyd in a duel, ii. 293. 

Germany, executions for witchcraft, ii. 118; duelling in, 282, 298; alchymy in, encouraged by the emperors, i. 119, 135, 158; the Rosicrucians in, 178; animal magnetism in, 290. 

Gesner, Conrad, the first tulip cultivator, _portrait_ of, i. 85. 

Ghosts. (_See_ Haunted Houses. )

Gibbon, Edward, grandfather of the historian, his participation in the South-Sea fraud, i. 73, 77; heavily fined, 81; his grandson's account of the proceedings, 81. 

Gisors, meeting there of Henry II. And Philip Augustus (_engraving_), ii. 65. 

Glanvill, Rev. J. , his work on witchcraft, ii. 148, 224. 

Glauber, an alchymist, i. 187. 

Glen, Lincolnshire, belief in witches there, ii. 185. 

Gnomes. (_See_ the Rosicrucians. )

Godfrey of Bouillon, his achievements in Palestine (_engraving_), ii. 21-24, 26, 27, 29, 31, 33, 35, 38, 39, 42, 46, 48. 

Gold, sought by the Alchymists. (_See_ Alchymists. )

Gottschalk, a leader of the Crusaders, ii. 15, 20. 

Gowdie, Isabel, her confession of witchcraft, ii. 136. 

Grafton's Chronicle, account of Peter of Pontefract, i. 235. 

Greatraks, Valentine, his wonderful cures, i. 269-272. 

Great Seal of Edward I. (_engraving_), ii. 97. 

Gregorian chant, its merit tested by the ordeal of fire, ii. 266. 

Guise, the Duke of, his attempt to poison Gennaro Annese, ii. 202. 

Guizot, M. , his remarks on the Crusades, ii. 51. 

Gustavus Adolphus an alchymist, i. 187. 

Guy of Lusignan, King of Jerusalem, besieges Acre, ii. 69. 

Hair, its length influenced by religious and political prejudices; legislative enactments, i. 296; short hair of the Normans (_engraving_), i. 297, 303; St. Wulstan's antipathy to long hair, 297; Serlo cuts off the hair of Henry I. (_engraving_), 296, 298; Louis VII. And his queen, 299; William "Longbeard, " 300; Roundheads and Cavaliers, 301; Peter the Great taxes beards, 301. 

Hale, Sir Matthew, _portrait_ of, ii. 148; his belief in witchcraft, 157. 

Hamilton, Duke of, his duel with Lord Mohun, ii. 290. 

Harcouet, his receipt for the Elixir Vitæ, i. 103. 

Harley, Earl of Oxford, the originator of the South-Sea Company, _portrait_ of, i. 46. 

Haroun al Reschid, the Caliph, his encouragement of Christian pilgrims, ii. 3. 

Hastings, recent belief in witchcraft there, ii. 187. 

Hatton, Lady, her reputation for witchcraft; her house in Hatton Garden, (_engraving_), ii. 186. 

"HAUNTED HOUSES, " popular belief in, ii. 217-238; a house at Aix la Chapelle, cause of the noises discovered, ii. 218; alarm caused by a rat, 219; the monks of St. Bruno, their trick to obtain the haunted palace of Vauvert, 220; houses at Tours and Bordeaux, 221; the story of Woodstock Palace, 222; Mr. Mompesson's house at Tedworth, 224; the "Cock Lane Ghost, " history of the deception; believed in by the learned (_engravings_), 228; the Stockwell ghost, 234; Baldarroch farm-house, 235; effect of education and civilisation, 238. 

Hawkins, Mr. , _engravings_ from his Collection of Caricatures, i. 29, 44. 

Haygarth, Dr. , his exposure of Perkins's "Metallic Tractors, " i. 289. 

Hell, Father, his magnetic cures; his connexion with Mesmer, i. 283. 

Henry I. , his hair cut short by Serlo, his chaplain (_engraving_), i. 262, 264. 

Henry II. Joins the third crusade (_engraving_), ii. 64. 

Henry VI. Issues patents to encourage alchymy, i. 118, 135. 

Henry VIII. , his invitation to Cornelius Agrippa, i. 140. 

Henry, Prince, son of James I. Suspected to have been poisoned, ii. 200. 

Henry II. Of France, his patronage of Nostradamus, i. 246; said to have prohibited duelling, ii. 273, 275; his death in the lists, 276. 

Henry IV. Of France, _portrait_ of, ii. 277; his opposition to duelling, 277, 279. 

Hermes Trismegistus, the founder of alchymy, i. 95. 

Hermetic Philosophy. (_See_ the Alchymists. )

Heydon, John, an English Rosicrucian, i. 175. 

Heywood, his life and prophecies of Merlin, i. 233. 

Highwaymen. (_See_ Thieves. )

Hogarth's caricature of the South-Sea Bubble (_engraving_), i. 82. 

Holland, the tulip mania. (_See_ Tulip Mania. )

Holloway's lectures on animal magnetism, i. 287. 

Holt, Chief Justice, his opposition to the belief in witchcraft, ii. 152. 

"Holy Lance, " the, its pretended discovery (_engraving_), ii. 37. 

Hopkins, Matthew, the "witch-finder general, " his cruelty and retributive fate, (_engraving_), ii. 143-146. 

Horoscope of Louis XIV. , i. 249. 

Hugh count of Vermandois imprisoned at Constantinople, ii. 21, 23; at the siege of Nice, 26; quits the Crusaders, 42. 

Human remains ingredients in charms and nostrums, i. 272. 

Hungary plundered by the Crusaders, ii. 15, 16, 20, 21. 

Hutchinson, Dr. , his work on witchcraft, ii. 123. 

Imps in the service of witches. (_See_ Demons and Witchcraft. )

Ingelgerius count of Anjou, his duel with Gontran (_engraving_), ii. 269. 

Innocent III. And IV. , promoters of the Crusades, ii. 75, 80, 81. 

Innocent VIII. , his bull against witchcraft, ii. 117. 

Innspruck, view of (_engraving_), i. 181. 

Invisibility pretended by the Rosicrucians, i. 169, 178. 

Isaac Comnenus attacked by Richard I. , ii. 69. 

Isaac of Holland, an alchymist, i. 136. 

Isnik, the Crusaders defeated at (with _view_ of Isnik), ii. 19. 

Italy, slow poisoning in (_see_ Poisoning); the banditti of, ii. 256. 

Jaques Coeur the alchymist, memoir of, i. 132. 

Jaffa besieged by Saladin, and saved by Richard I. , ii. 74; _view_ of, ii. 89; defended by the Templars against the Korasmins, ii. 90. 

James I. , his belief in the virtue of "weapon salve, " i. 266; _portrait_ of, ii. 134; charges Gellie Duncan and others with witchcraft, 129; their trial, confessions and execution, 129-135; his work on "Demonology, " 139; his supposed secret vices; his favoritism to the Earl of Somerset, the poisoner of Sir Thomas Overbury; himself thought to have died by poison, 193-202; his severity against duelling, 287. 

Jean De Meung. (_See_ De Meung. )

Jerusalem (and _see_ Crusades), _engravings_, ii. 44, 47, 49; first pilgrims to, ii. 2; besieged and taken by the Crusaders, 45; its state under the Christian kings, 48, 49; council of the second Crusade there, 60; captured by Saladin, 63. 

Jewell, Bishop, his exclamations against witchcraft, ii. 124. 

Jews plundered and murdered by the Crusaders, ii. 20. 

Joan of Arc, her execution (_engraving_), ii. 114. 

John XXII. (Pope), his study of Alchymy, i. 111. 

Johnson, Dr. , on the "Beggar's Opera, " ii. 258. 

Joseph II. Of Austria, his opposition to duelling, ii. 298. 

Judicial astrology. (_See_ Astrology. )

Judicial combats. (_See_ Duels. )

Karloman, King of Hungary, his contest with the Crusaders, ii. 20. 

Kelly, Edward, the Alchymist, memoir of, i. 152. 

Kendal, Duchess of, her participation in the South-Sea fraud, i. 76, 77. 

Kent, Mr. , accused of murder by the "Cock Lane Ghost, " ii. 229. 

Kepler, his excuse for astrology, i. 250. 

Kerbogha, leader of the Turks defeated at Antioch, ii. 34, 38, 39. 

Kerr, Robert, afterwards Earl of Somerset. (_See_ Somerset. )

Kircher abandons his belief in alchymy, i. 185, 183; his belief in magnetism as a remedy for disease, 264. 

Knight, ----, Treasurer of the South-Sea Company, his apprehension and escape, i. 76. 

Knox, John, _portrait_ of; accused of witchcraft, ii. 128. 

Koffstky, a Polish alchymist, i. 136. 

Labourt, France, 200 witches executed, ii. 166. 

La Chataigneraie and De Jarnac, their famous duel, ii. 273. 

La Chaussée, the accomplice of Madame de Brinvilliers, his execution, ii. 212. 

Lady-day, superstitions on, i. 258. 

Lamb, Dr. , the poisoner, attacked and killed in the streets (_engraving_), ii. 202. 

"Lancashire witches" executed, ii. 141. 

Laski, Count Albert, his reception by Queen Elizabeth, his studies in alchymy, i. 155; is victimised by Dee and Kelly, 157. 

Lavigoreux and Lavoisin, the French poisoners executed, ii. 215. 

Law, J. , projector of the Mississippi scheme, his romantic history, i. 1; his house in the Rue de Quincampoix, Paris (_engraving_), i. 13. 

Law, Wm. , his participation in the Mississippi scheme, i. 9, 42. 

Le Blanc, the Abbé, on the popularity of Great Thieves, ii. 251. 

Lennox, Col. , his duel with the Duke of York, ii. 293. 

Liège, Madame de Brinvilliers arrested there, ii. 213. 

Lille, singular charges of witchcraft at, ii. 169. 

Lilly, the astrologer, account of, i. 243. 

Lipsius, his passion for tulips, i. 86. 

London, the plague of 1665, i. 228; inundation prophesied in 1524, i. 228; the Great Fire, 230. (_See_ also Cagliostro, Change Alley, Cornhill, Merchant Taylors' Hall, Tower, Westminster. )

Longbeard, William, cause of his name, i. 300. 

Longsword, William (_engraving_), joins the ninth Crusade, ii. 91. 

Loudun, the curate of, executed for witchcraft, ii. 168. 

Louis VII. Cuts short his hair, and loses his queen, i. 299; joins the Crusaders, ii. 53; is consecrated at St. Denis, 55; reaches Constantinople and Nice, 58; his conflicts with the Saracens, 59; arrival at Jerusalem, 60; his sincerity as a Crusader, 61; returns to France, 62. 

Louis IX. Undertakes the ninth Crusade, ii. 90; his valour at the battle of Massoura, 94; taken prisoner, 94; his ransom and return, 94; his second Crusade, 95; effigy of (_engraving_), 220. 

Louis XI. , his encouragement of astrologers, i. 246. 

Louis XIII. , prevalence of duelling in his reign, ii. 280. 

Louis XIV. , his bigotry and extravagance, i. 5, 6; remonstrated with by his Parliament on his leniency to supposed witches, ii. 171; _portrait_ of, 177; establishes the "chambre ardente" for the trial of poisoners, 214, 283; his horoscope, 249; his severe edict against duelling, 283. 

Louis XV. , his patronage of the Court St. Germain, i. 201, 204. 

"Loup-garou" executed in France, ii. 120. 

Loutherbourg, the painter, his alleged cures by animal magnetism, i. 288. 

Lulli, Raymond, a famous alchymist, his romantic history, with _portrait_, i. 105; his treatment by Edward II. , 135. 

Lyons, _view_ of, ii. 160. 

Macartney, General, second to Lord Mohun, his trial for murder, ii. 292. 

Mackenzie, Sir George, _portrait_ of, ii. 138; his enlightened views on witchcraft, 137. 

Macnamara and Montgomery, frivolous cause of their fatal duel, ii. 297. 

MAGNETISERS, the, i. 262-295; effect of imagination in the cure of diseases, i. 262, 272. _Mineral Magnetism_: Paracelsus its first professor, 263; diseases transplanted to the earth; Kircher; "weapon-salve, " 264; controversy on its merits, 265; Sir Kenelm Digby's "powder of sympathy, " 266; other delusions, 268. _Animal Magnetism_: wonderful cures by Valentine Greatraks, i. 269-272; Francisco Bagnoni, Van Helmont, Gracian, Baptista Porta, &c. , 272; Wirdig, Maxwell, 273; the convulsionaires of St. Medard, i. 273; Father Hell, 274; Anthony Mesmer, his history and theory, 275; Mesmer, 276-283; D'Eslon adopts his views, 278, 280, 281; encouragement to depravity afforded by his experiments, 282, 293; exposures by MM. Dupotet and Bailly, 279, 281; Marquis de Puysegur, 283; Chevalier de Barbarin, 286; Mainauduc, Holloway, Loutherbourg, 287, 288; Perkins's "Metallic Tractors" exposed by Dr. Haygarth, 289; absurd theories of Deleuze, 291; the Abbé Faria, fallacies of the theory of, 294. 

Mainauduc, Dr. , his experiments in animal magnetism, i. 287. 

Malta, its singular laws on duelling, ii. 284. 

Mansfield, Lord, trial of the "Cock-lane Ghost" conspirators before him, ii. 234. 

Manuel Comnenus, his treatment of the Crusaders, ii. 56, 58, 59. 

Marie Antoinette, history of the diamond necklace, i. 216-220. 

Marlborough, Duke of, his duel with Earl Pawlet, ii. 289. 

Massaniello, relics of his fate treasured by the populace, ii. 305. 

Massoura, battle of, the Saracens defeated, ii. 94. 

Mayer, Michael, his report on the Rosicrucian doctrines, i. 168. 

Maxwell, William, the magnetiser, i. 273. 

Medicis, Catherine di, her encouragement of astrologers, i. 246. 

Medici family, predictions respecting them, i. 247. 

Merchant Taylors' Hall, _view_ of gateway, i. 62. 

Merlin, his pretended prophecies, i. 232; his miraculous birth, 236; Spenser's description of his cave, 237. 

Mesmer, Anthony, the founder of animal magnetism, his history and theory, i. 275; his theory and practice, 276; elegance of his house at Paris, 278; infatuation of his disciples, 282. 

Metals, transmutation of. (_See_ Alchymists. )

Meteoric phenomena, their effect in inciting to the Crusades, ii. 3, 11. 

Meteors regarded as omens, i. 223. 

Milan, plague of 1630 prophesied, i. 225; fear of poisoners, Mora and others executed, 226; appearance of the devil, 227. 

Millenium, the, universally expected at the end of the tenth century, ii. 3. 

MISSISSIPPI SCHEME, the, its history, i. 1-44; financial difficulties in France, expedients of the Regent Orleans, i. 6; official peculation and corruption, 7; John Law's propositions; his French cognomen, "Lass;" his bank established, 9; his notes at a premium; branch banks established; Mississippi trading company established; bank made a public institution; extensive issue of notes, 10; opposition of the Parliament, 11; the Regent uses coercion; Mississippi shares rise, 12; the Company of the Indies formed; magnificent promises; immense excitement and applications for shares; Law's house in the Rue de Quincampoix (_engraving_), 13; hunchback used as a writing-desk (_engraving_), 15; enormous gains of individuals, 14, 16, 19, 20, 26; Law's removal to the Place Vendôme, 14; continued excitement, 15; removal to the Hotel de Soissons (_engraving_), 15; noble and fashionable speculators, 17; ingenious schemes to obtain shares (_engraving_), 18; avarice and ambition of the speculators; robberies and murders, 20; a broker murdered by Count d'Horn, and robbed of shares (_engraving_), 21; temporary stimulus to trade, and illusive prosperity; Law purchases estates, and turns Catholic, 24; his charity and modesty, 25; caricatures of him, as Atlas, 25; "Lucifer's new row barge, " 29; in a car drawn by cocks, 40; increase of luxury in Paris, 26; the Regent purchases the great diamond, 27; symptoms of distrust; coin further depreciated, 28; use of specie forbidden, at Law's suggestion, 29; popular hatred excited, 30; fall of shares, 31; conscription for the Mississippi gold mines (_engraving_), 31; further issue of notes, and increased distrust and distress, 32; payment stopped, and Law dismissed from the ministry, 33; his danger from the populace, 33, 35, 38; D'Aguesseau's measures to restore credit (_portrait_), 34; run on the Bank, 34; fatal accidents in the crowd, 34; the Mississippi and India companies deprived of their privileges, 39; Law leaves France, 40; D'Argenson's dismissal and unpopularity, 42; Law's subsequent history and death, 43; caricatures of the scheme in its success and failure, 25, 29, 37, 40, 44. 

Modern prophecies, i. 222-241. 

Mohra, in Sweden, absurd charges of witchcraft, and numerous executions, ii. 177. 

Mohun, Lord, his duel with the Duke of Hamilton, ii. 290. 

Mompesson, Mr. , his "haunted house" at Tedworth, ii. 224. 

Money Mania. (_See_ the Mississippi Scheme and South-Sea Bubble. )

Montesquieu "Esprit des Loix, " ii. 262-267. 

Montgomery and Macnamara, frivolous cause of their fatal duel, ii. 297. 

More, Hannah, on animal magnetism, i. 287. 

Mormius, the alchymist, memoir of, i. 178. 

Mortlake, Dr. Dee's house at, i. 153, 162. 

Moses cited by alchymists as an adept, i. 95; claimed as a Rosicrucian, 175. 

Moustaches, fashion of wearing, i. 302. 

Mummies, an ingredient in charms and nostrums, i. 271. 

Munting's history of the tulip mania, i. 87. 

Nadel, Mausch, a German robber, ii. 257. 

Naiades. (_See_ the Rosicrucians. )

Nantwich, Nixon's prophecy of its fate, i. 240. 

Naples, arrest and execution of La Tophania, the slow poisoner, ii. 207. 

Napoleon's willow at St. Helena and other relics, ii. 307. 

Naudé, Gabriel, his exposure of the Rosicrucians, i. 173. 

Necromancy, its connexion with alchymy, i. 129; danger of its practice, 250. 

New England, women, a child, and a dog, executed as witches, ii. 180. 

Nice besieged by the Crusaders, ii. 26. 

Nixon, Robert, the Cheshire prophet, i. 238. 

Noah, the patriarch, a successful alchymist, i. 95. 

Noises. (_See_ Haunted Houses. )

Normandy, witches in, ii. 172. 

Nostradamus, the astrologer; his prophecies (_portrait_), i. 246. 

Oath on the Evangelists and holy relics, a test of innocence, ii. 264. 

Odomare, a French alchymist, i. 136. 

Official peculation in France under the Regent Orleans, i. 7. 

Omens: winding-sheets, howling dogs, death-watch, "coffins, " shivering, walking under ladders, upsetting salt, thirteen at table, piebald horses, sneezing, dogs, cats, bees, itching; Oriental belief in omens, i. 255. (_See_ Comets, Falling Stars, and Meteors. )

Oneiro-criticism; interpreting dreams. (_See_ Dreams. )

Ordeals. (_See_ Duels and Ordeals. )

Orleans, Duke of. (Regent of France) _portrait_ of; his patronage of the Mississippi Scheme, i. 5; his financial errors, 10, 12, 33, 41; enforces the execution of Count D'Horn for murder, 23; his purchase of the celebrated diamond, 27; his ill-treatment of Law, 33. 

Orleans, Duchess of, her remarks on the Mississippi scheme, i. 5, 19, 24, 35, 36. 

Ortholani, a French alchymist, i 136. 

Overbury, Sir Thomas, _portrait_ of, ii. 195; poisoned by the Earl and Countess of Somerset and their accomplices, 193-201. 

Palestine. (_See_ the Crusades. )

Palmistry. (_See_ Fortune-Telling. )

Paper currency, introduced in France by John Law, i. 4. 

Paracelsus, memoir and _portrait_ of, i. 142; his singular doctrines, 145; the first of the magnetisers, 262. 

Paris, the Palais Royal (_engraving_), i. 12; John Law's house, Rue de Quincampoix (_engraving_), 13; Hotel de Soissons (_engraving_), 16; incidents of the Mississippi scheme (_four engravings_), i. 15, 18, 21, 31; the Place de Grêve (_engraving_), ii. 192; the Bastile (_engraving_), ii. 209; house of Nicholas Flamel, in the rue de Marivaux, i. 118; the Rosicrucians in, i. 170-173; Mesmer's house; his experiments, 278. 

Parsons and his family, concoctors of the "Cock Lane Ghost" deception, ii. 228. 

Paul's Cross, Dr. Lamb, the poisoner, attacked and killed there (_engraving_), ii. 202. 

Persecution of alleged witches. (_See_ Witches. )

Peter the Great taxes beards (_portrait_), i. 267. 

Peter the Hermit. (_See_ the Crusades. )

Peter of Lombardy, an alchymist, i. 136. 

Peter of Pontefract, his false prophecies described by Grafton, i. 234. 

Petronella, the wife of Nicholas Flamel, i. 116. 

Philalethes, Eugenius, a Rosicrucian, i. 175. 

Philip I. Excommunicated, ii. 8. 

Philip Augustus joins the third crusade (_engraving_), ii. 64, 66; his jealousy of Richard I. , 69, 71; returns to France, 72. 

Philip IV. , _portrait_ of, ii. 112; his persecution of the Templars, ii. 113. 

Philosopher's stone, searchers for the. (_See_ Alchymists. )

Pietro D'Apone. (_See_ D'Apone. )

Pigray on witchcraft in France, ii. 122. 

Pilgrimages to Jerusalem before the Crusades, ii. 2. 

Pilgrim's staff (_engraving_), ii. 56. 

Place de Grêve (_engraving_), ii. 192; Madame de Brinvilliers; La Chaussée and others executed there for poisoning, 212, 213, 215. 

Plague at Milan prophesied, i. 225. 

Plays on the adventures of thieves, their evil influence, ii. 253, 257. 

POISONING, in Greece and Rome; its spread in Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; declared high treason in England, ii. 192; Sir Thomas Overbury poisoned; full history of his case, with _portraits_ of Overbury, the Earl and Countess of Somerset, Lord Coke, and Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, 193-201; suspicious death of Prince Henry, son of James I. , 200; Buckingham said to have poisoned James I. , 201; fate of Dr. Lamb, the poisoner (_engraving_), 202; slow poisoning in Italy, its general prevalence; employed by the Duke of Guise; much used by Roman ladies to poison husbands, 203; trial and execution of La Spara and others; other women punished, 204; atrocious crimes of La Tophania; the nature of her poison; protected in sanctuary by the clergy of Naples; seized by the viceroy, tried, and executed, 206-208. In France: Exili, Glaser, and Sainte Croix, the first criminals, 208; Madame de Brinvilliers and Sainte Croix; their crimes and punishment, 208-214; M. De Penautier charged with poisoning; popular mania for the crime, 214; Lavoisin and Lavigoreux executed, 215; charges against the Marshal de Luxembourg and the Countess of Soissons; recent revival of the crime in England, 216. 

Pope, his sketch of Sir John Blunt, Chairman of the South-Sea Company, i. 74. 

POPULAR FOLLIES OF GREAT CITIES, ii. 239-248. Cant or slang phrases: "Quoz, " 240; "What a shocking bad hat, " 240; "Hookey Walker, " 241; "There he goes with his eye out, " 242; "Has your mother sold her mangle?" 242; "Flare up, " 242; "Does your mother know you're out?" 244; "Who are you?" 244. Songs: "Cherry ripe, " 246; "The Sea, " 247; "Jim Crow, " 247. 

PORTRAITS. --John Law, i. 1; the Regent Orleans, 5; D'Aguesseau, 34; D'Argenson, 42; Earl of Sunderland, 80; Harley Earl of Oxford, 46; Sir Robert Walpole, 49; Mr. Secretary Craggs, 64; Conrad Gesner, the first tulip cultivator, 85; Albertus Magnus, 100; Arnold de Villeneuve, 103; Raymond Lulli, 105; Cornelius Agrippa, 138; Panacelsus, 142; Dr. Dee, 152; Philip IV. , ii. 112; Charles IX. , 119; John Knox, 128; James I. , 134; Sir George Mackenzie, 138; Pietro d'Apone, 140; Sir Matthew Hale, 148; Sir Thomas Brown, 151; Louis XIV. , 177; Henry Andrews, the original of "Francis Moore, " i. 244; Nostradamus, 246; Peter the Great, 267; Sir Thomas Overbury, ii. 195; Villiers duke of Buckingham, 198; Lord Chief Justice Coke, 199; Earl and Countess of Somerset, 200, 201; Henry IV. Of France, 277; Lord Bacon, 286. 

Political prejudices and enactments against long hair and beards, i. 296-303. 

Poetry and romance, their obligations to the Rosicrucians, i. 179. 

Powell, Chief Justice, his opposition to the belief in witchcraft, ii. 152. 

PROPHECIES: Plague of Milan, i. 225; plague of London, 1665, inundation of London, 1528, 228; great fire, 1666; earthquake, 1842, 230; Mother Shipton, with _view_ of her cottage, 232, 241; Merlin, 232-238; Peter of Pontefract, 234; Robert Nixon the Cheshire prophet, 238; almanac-makers, 240 (_see_ Fortune-Telling); end of the world, 222, 224; earthquakes, 224. (_See_ Modern Prophecies, the Crusades, Peter Barthelemy, &c. )

Puysegur, the Marquis de, his discovery of clairvoyance; his magnetic elm, i. 283-286. 

Raising the dead and absent, a power ascribed to Cornelius Agrippa, i. 142; and Cagliostro, 217. 

Raleigh, Sir Walter, an inveterate duellist, abandons the custom, ii. 297. 

Raymond of Toulouse, a leader of the first crusade, ii. 21, 26, 29, 31, 34, 45, 46; his supposed collusion with Peter Barthelemy, 35, 37, 41; at the siege of Jerusalem, 46. 

Raymond Lulli. (_See_ Lulli. )

Reinaldo, a leader of the first crusade, ii. 18. 

RELICS, brought by the early pilgrims from Palestine, ii. 2; swearing on, a test of innocence, 264; fragments of the true cross; bones of saints; tears of the Saviour; tears and milk of the Virgin; Santa Scala at Rome; relics of Longbeard, Massaniello, La Brinvilliers, Dr. Dodd, Fauntleroy, Thurtell, Corder, Greenacre, Thom, Shakspere, Napoleon, Waterloo, 302-308. 

Religious prejudices and ordinances against long hair and beards, i. 296-303. 

Rhodes, Richard I. At (_engraving_), ii. 69. 

Rice, Count, tried for killing Du Barri in a duel, ii. 293. 

Richard I. Sets out for Palestine, ii. 67; attacks the Sicilians, 68; arrives at Rhodes (_engraving_), 69; his queen Berengaria (_engraving_), 70; captures Acre, 71; reaches Bethlehem (_engraving_), 73; his concern on being obliged to retreat, 74; his reputation in Palestine, 74. 

Richelieu an alchymist, i. 198; his opposition to duelling, ii. 279, 280. 

Ripley, George, the alchymist, memoir of, i. 118. 

Robert duke of Normandy, a leader of the Crusades, ii. 21, 31, 39, 46. 

Robert count of Flanders, a leader of the first Crusade, ii. 21, 30, 31. 

Robert of Paris (Count), his insolence to the Emperor Alexius, ii. 25; killed at the battle of Dorylæum, 29. 

Robin Hood, popular admiration of, ii. 250. 

Robinson, Ann, the Stockwell "Ghost, " ii. 234. 

Rochester, Viscount, afterwards Earl of Somerset. (_See_ Somerset. )

Roger Bacon. (_See_ Bacon. )

Romance and poetry, their obligations to the Rosicrucians, i. 179. 

Rosenberg (Count), a patron of Dr. Dee, i. 159. 

Rosicrucians, the, their romantic doctrines; history of their progress, i. 167; their poetical doctrines, sylphs, naiades, gnomes, and salamanders, 172, 179. 

Rouen, _view_ in, ii. 171; the Parliament remonstrate with Louis XIV. On his leniency to suspected witches, 172. 

Rudolph (I. And II. ), Emperors, their encouragement of alchymy, i. 158, 165. 

Rupecissa, John de, a French alchymist, i. 136. 

Russia, tax on beards imposed by Peter the Great, i. 301. 

"Sabbaths, " or meetings of witches and demons, ii. 107, 133. (_See_ Witchcraft. )

Sainte Croix, the slow poisoner in France, his crimes and death, ii. 208, 211. 

Saints, relics of, ii. 304. 

Saladin, his military successes, ii. 63; his defence of Acre, 69, 71; defeated at Azotus, 72; and at Jaffa, 74. 

"Saladin's tithe, " a tax enforced by the Crusaders, ii. 65. 

Salamanders. (_See_ the Rosicrucians. )

Santa Scala, or Holy Stairs, at Rome, ii. 304. 

Schinderhannes, the German robber, ii. 256. 

Scotland, witchcraft in. (_See_ Witchcraft. )

Scott, Sir Walter, his anachronisms on the Crusades, ii. 74, 98. "Scratching Fanny, " or the Cock Lane Ghost; her remains in the vault of St. John's Church, Clerkenwell, ii. 230. 

Seal of Edward I. (_engraving_), ii. 97. 

Seifeddoulet, the Sultan, his reception of Alfarabi, the alchymist, i. 98. 

Semlin attacked by the Crusaders, ii. 15. 

Sendivogius, a Polish alchymist, i. 164, 165. 

Senés, Bishop of, his report on Jean Delisle's success in alchymy, i. 193. 

Serlo cuts off the hair of Henry I. (_engraving_), i. 296, 298. 

Seton, the Cosmopolite, an alchymist; memoir of, i. 163. 

Sevigné, Madame, her account of Madame de Brinvilliers, ii. 208, 213. 

Shakespere's Mulberry-tree, ii. 307. 

Sharp, Giles, contriver of mysterious noises at Woodstock Palace, ii. 224. 

Shem, the son of Noah, an alchymist, i. 95. 

Sheppard, Jack, his popularity--lines on his portrait by Thornhill, ii. 252; evil effect of a novel and melo-dramas representing his career, 253. 

Sherwood Forest, and Robin Hood (_engraving_), ii. 249, 250. 

Shipton, Mother, her prophecy of the fire of London, i. 230; her popularity, 231; _view_ of her cottage, 241. 

Simeon, the Patriarch, a promoter of the Crusades, ii. 7. 

Slang phrases. (_See_ Popular Follies. )

Slow Poisoners, the. (_See_ Poisoning. )

Smollett, on history and the South-Sea Bubble, i. 67. 

Soliman the Sultan, his conflict with the Crusaders, ii. 18. 

Somerset, the Earl of (poisoner of Sir Thos. Overbury), _portrait_ of, ii. 200; his origin and rise at court; supposed vicious connexion with James I. ; his intrigue and marriage with the Countess of Essex; the murder of Overbury; the earl's trial and sentence, 193-201. 

Somerset, the Countess of, her participation in the murder of Sir Thos. Overbury, with _portrait_, ii. 201. 

Songs: on the Mississippi scheme, i. 36; on the South-Sea Bubble, 50; on famous thieves, ii. 260; on witchcraft, popular in Germany, 165; popularity of "Cherry Ripe, " "The Sea, " "Jim Crow, " 246. 

Songs, Beranger's "Thirteen at Table, " i. 257. 

Songs of the Rosicrucians, i. 168, 204. 

Sorcery. (_See_ Witchcraft and Alchemy. )

Sorel, Agnes, her patronage of Jacques Coeur, the alchymist, i. 132. 

SOUTH-SEA BUBBLE, history of, i. 45-84; the Company originated by Harley, Earl of Oxford; its primary object, 45; visionary ideas of South-Sea trade; restrictions imposed by Spanish Government, 46; proposals to Parliament to reduce the debt; capital increased to twelve millions; success of the Company, 47; its application to take the whole state debt; counter application by the Bank of England; the former adopted by Parliament; stock rises from 130 to 300, 48; Sir R. Walpole's warning; directors' exertions to raise the prices, 49; bill passed; great demand for shares, 50; other bubble schemes started and encouraged, 51, 52; eighty-six of them dissolved, 55, 57; shares at 400; fall to 290, but raised by the directors' schemes, 51; dividend declared; increased excitement, 52; Swift' lines on Change Alley; extent of the delusion; frauds of schemers, 54; fears of the judicious; bubble companies proclaimed unlawful, 55; continued excitement; stock at 1000, 62, 63; Sir John Blunt, the chairman, sells out; stock falls; meeting of the company; Mr. Secretary Craggs supports directors, 63; increased panic; negociation with Bank of England, 64, 65; they agree to circulate the company's bonds, 66; total failure of the company; social and moral evils of the scheme, 67; arrogance of the directors; petitions for vengeance on them; King's speech to Parliament, 69; debates thereon, 69, 71; punishment resolved on, 70; Walpole's plan to restore credit; officers of the company forbidden to leave England, 71; ministers proved to have been bribed by shares, 73, 77; directors apprehended; treasurer absconds, 73; measures to arrest him, 73, 74; directors expelled from Parliament, 74; chairman's examination, 75; treasurer imprisoned at Antwerp, but escapes, 76; reports on the details of the fraud, 76; Mr. Stanhope, Secretary to Treasury, charged but acquitted; dissatisfaction thereon, 78; Mr. Aislabie, Chancellor of the Exchequer, committed to the Tower, and consequent rejoicings (_engraving_), 79; Sir George Caswall punished; the Earl of Sunderland acquitted; death of Mr. Secretary Craggs, and his father, participators in the fraud, 80; heavy fines on the directors; account of these proceedings by Gibbon the historian, 81; measures adopted to restore credit, 83; caricatures by Hogarth and others (_seven engravings_), 60, 61, 68, 70, 76, 82, 84. 

South-Sea House, _view_ of, i. 45. 

Spara, Hieronyma, the slow poisoner of Rome, her trial and execution, ii. 205. 

Speculations. (_See_ Money Mania, the Mississippi Scheme, South-Sea Bubble, and Bubble Schemes. )

Spenser, his description of Merlin and his cave, i. 232, 237. 

Spirits. (_See_ Demons, Witchcraft, Cornelius Agrippa, Paracelsus, &c. )

Sprenger, a German witch-finder; his persecutions, ii. 118-159. 

St. Bernard preaches the second Crusade, ii. 53, 55; his miracles, 56; failure of his prophecies, 62. 

St. Dunstan and the devil, ii. 103. 

St. Evremond, his account of the impositions of Valentine Greatraks, i. 270. 

St. Germain (Count de), the alchymist, memoir of, i. 200; his profusion of jewels, 203; his pretensions to long life, 205. 

St. John's Eve, St. Mark's Eve, St. Swithin's Eve, superstitious customs, i. 258. 

Stanhope, Earl, supports the proposition to punish the directors of the South-Sea Company, i. 72, 73; is stigmatised in Parliament, and dies suddenly, 75. 

Stanhope, Charles, secretary to Treasury; his participation in the South-Sea fraud, i. 77, 78; his acquittal by parliament, and consequent disturbances, 78. 

Stedinger, the, a section of the Frieslanders; their independence; accused of witchcraft by the Pope, and exterminated by the German nobles, ii. 110, 111. 

Stephen, king of Poland, his credulity and superstition, i. 159. 

Stock jobbing. (_See_ South-Sea Bubble. ) "Stock Jobbing Cards, " or caricatures of the South-Sea Bubble (_two engravings_), i. 60, 61. 

Stonehenge ascribed to Merlin, i. 237. 

Suger dissuades Louis VII. From the Crusade, ii. 55-62. 

Sully, his wise opposition to duelling, ii. 279

Sunderland, Earl of, _portrait_ of, i. 80; his participation in the South-Sea Bubble, i. 50, 77, 78; discontent at his acquittal, 80. 

Superstitions on the 1st of January, Valentine Day, Lady Day, St. Swithin's Eve, St. Mark's Eve, Candlemas Eve, Midsummer, St. John's Eve, 29th February, 258. 

Surrey and the fair Geraldine; the vision shewn by Cornelius Agrippa, i. 142. 

Sweden, executions for witchcraft, ii. 177. 

Sylphs. (_See_ the Rosicrucians. )

Syria. (_See_ the Crusades. )

Tancred, his achievements in the first Crusade, ii. 26, 35, 38, 39, 45. 

Tax on beards imposed by Peter the Great, i. 301. 

Tedworth, Wiltshire, the "haunted house" there; narrative of the deception, ii. 224. 

Tempests caused by witches, ii. 102, 106, 133, 134. 

Templars, Knights, subdued by Saladin, ii. 63; support Frederick II. In the seventh Crusade, 86; their subsequent reverses, 87, 90, 99; accused of witchcraft, 112; persecuted by Philip IV. ; the grand master burnt, 113. 

Têtenoire, a famous French thief, ii. 255. 

Theatrical productions, on the lives of robbers; their pernicious influence, ii. 253-257. 

THIEVES, POPULAR ADMIRATION OF GREAT, ii. 249-260; Robin Hood, ii. 250; Dick Turpin, 251; Jack Sheppard, 252; Jonathan Wild, 254; Claude Duval, 255; Aimerigot Têtenoire, 255; Cartouche; Vidocq, 256; Italian banditti, 256, 257; Schinderhannes and Nadel, 257; evil influence of the "Beggars' Opera" and other plays on the subject of thieves 253, 257, 258; Lord Byron's "Corsair" and Schiller's "Robber, " 259. 

Thomas Aquinas. (_See_ Aquinas. )

Tiberias, battle of, ii. 63. 

Tibertus, Antiochus, his wonderful prophecies, i. 248. 

Toads dancing at the witches' "Sabbaths, " ii. 108. 

Tophania, La, a famous poisoner in Italy, her crimes and execution; the nature of her potions, ii. 206. 

Torture, its cruelty exposed by the Duke of Brunswick, ii. 170. (_See_ Witchcraft. )

Toulouse, witches burnt at, ii. 160. 

Tournaments and judicial combats. (_See_ Duels. )

Tours, haunted house at, ii. 221. 

Tower Hill, bonfires on the committal of participators in the South-Sea Bubble (_engraving_), i. 79. 

Tower of London, Raymond Lulli the alchymist said to have practised there, i. 109; poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury, ii. 195. 

Transmutation of metals. (_See_ Alchymists. )

Trees, their significance in dreams, i. 254; susceptible of magnetic influence, 284. 

Trial by Battle. (_See_ Duels and Ordeals. )

Trithemius, the alchymist, memoir of, i. 124. 

Trois-Echelles executed for witchcraft, ii. 120. 

Troussel, William, his duel with the Constable Du Guesclin (_engraving_), ii. 261, 271. 

"Truce of God, " the, proclaimed by the first Crusaders, ii. 14. 

"True Cross, " fragments of the, ii. 3, 71. (_See_ Relics. )

TULIP MANIA; the flower first introduced into Europe by Gesner, _portrait_ of Gesner, i. 85; great demand for plants in Holland and Germany, introduced in England from Vienna, the flower described and eulogised by Beckmann and Cowley, 86; rage for bulbs in Holland and their enormous prices, 87; amusing errors of the uninitiated, 88; marts for the sale of bulbs, jobbing and gambling, ruinous extent of the mania and immense profits of speculators, 89; "tulip-notaries" appointed, sudden loss of confidence and fall of prices, meetings, deputation to the government, 90; unfulfilled bargains repudiated by the law courts, 91; the mania in England and France, 91; subsisting value of choice bulbs, 92. 

Tunis invaded by the Crusaders, ii. 96. 

Tunbridge Wells, a witch doctor there in 1830, ii. 189. 

Turner, Mrs. Her participation in the poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury, ii. 194, 198, 199. 

Turpin, Dick, popular admiration of, ii. 251. 

Undines. (_See_ the Rosicrucians. )

Urban II. Preaches the Crusade (_frontispiece_), ii. 7. 

Valentine, Basil, the alchymist, memoir of, i. 119. 

Valentine's Day superstitions, i. 258. 

Vauvert, the ruined palace at, haunted, ii. 220. 

Vezelais, cathedral of (_engraving_), ii. 54. 

Villars, Marshal, his opposition to the Mississippi scheme, i. 16. 

Vulgar phrases. (_See_ Popular Follies. )

Visions, pretended. (_See_ Barthelemy, Agrippa, and Dr. Dee. )

Waldenses, the, persecuted and burnt at Arras, ii. 115. 

Walpole, Sir Robert, his warning of the evils of the South-Sea bubble, _portrait_ of him, i. 49-55; his measures to restore credit, 70, 71. 

Walter the Penniless, a leader of the first Crusade, ii. 15, 18. 

Warbois, the witches of, absurd charges against them, their execution, ii. 125. 

"Water of Life, " searchers for. (_See_ Alchymists. )

Water ordeal. (_See_ Duels and Ordeals. )

"Weapon-salve, " controversy respecting, i. 265. 

"Wehr-wolves" executed, ii. 120, 168. 

Westminster Abbey, Raymond Lulli, the alchymist, said to have practised there, i. 109; tomb of Queen Eleanor (_engraving_), ii. 99. 

Weston, Richard, an accomplice in the poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury, ii. 194, 198, 199. 

Wharton, Duke of, his speeches on the South-Sea Bubble, i. 50, 75. 

Whiston, his prophecy of the end of the world, i. 223. 

William of Tyre preaches the Crusade, ii. 63, 65. 

Wilson, ----, killed in a duel by John Law, i. 3. 

Wirdig, Sebastian, the magnetiser, i. 273. 

WITCHCRAFT:--Account of the witch mania, ii. 101-191; popular belief in witches, ii. 102; their supposed compacts with the devil; popular notions of the devil and demons, 103; witches could secure their services, 107; their meetings or "Sabbaths, " 107, 133, 166, 169, 171; frequent persecution on the pretext of witchcraft, 110; the Stedinger, a section of the Frieslanders, exterminated on that charge, 110; the Templars accused of witchcraft; the Grand Master and others burnt; execution of Joan of Arc (_engraving_), 113; combined with heresy as a charge against religious reformers, 114; the Waldenses persecuted at Arras; their confessions under torture; belief common to Catholics and Reformers; Florimond on the prevalence of witchcraft, 115; witches executed at Constance; Bull of Pope Innocent VIII. ; general crusade against witches, 117; Sprenger's activity in Germany; Papal commissions, 118; executions in France; sanctioned by Charles IX. , 119, 122; Trois Echelles, his confessions and execution, 120; "men-wolves, " executed, 121; English statutes against witchcraft, 123; Bishop Jewell's exclamations, 124; the witches of Warbois; absurd charges and execution of the victims, 125; annual sermon at Cambridge, ii. 127; popular belief and statutes in Scotland, 127, 154; charges against the higher classes; against John Knox, 128; numerous executions; trial of Gellie Duncan and others, 129; James I. , his interest in the subject; Dr. Fian tortured (_engraving_), 131; confessions of the accused, 132; their execution; further persecution, 135; case of Isabel Gowdie, 136; opinions of Sir George Mackenzie (_portrait_), 136, 155; death preferred to the imputation of witchcraft, 137, 139; King James's "Demonology, " 139; the "Lancashire witches" executed, 141; Matthew Hopkins, the "witch-finder general" (_engraving_), 143; his impositions, cruelty, and retributive fate, 148; "common prickers" in Scotland, 146; Mr. Louis, a clergyman, executed, 147; Glanville's _Sadducismus Triumphatus_, 148; witches tried before Sir Matthew Hale (_portrait_); Sir Thomas Brown's evidence (_portrait_); conviction and execution, 148-152; trials before Chief Justices Holt and Powell, 152, 153; the last execution in England, in 1716, 153; Scotch laws on the subject, 154; various trials in Scotland 155-158; last execution in Scotland, in 1722, 158; proceedings of Sprenger in Germany, Bodinus and Delrio in France, 159; executions at Constance, Toulouse, Amsterdam, and Bamberg, 160-162; numerous executions at Wurtzburg, including many children, 163; others at Lendheim, 164; the "Witches' Gazette, " a German ballad, 165; the Maréchale D'Anere executed, 166; 200 executions at Labourt, 166; "weir-wolves, " belief in, 168; Urbain Grandier, curate of Loudun, executed, 169; singular cases at Lisle, 169; the Duke of Brunswick's exposure of the cruelty of torture, 170; diminution of charges in Germany, 171; singular remonstrance from the French Parliament to Louis XIV. On his leniency to witches, 171; executions at Mohra, in Sweden, 177; atrocities in New England; a child and a dog executed, 180; the last execution in Switzerland in 1652, 182; the latest on record, in 1749, at Wurtzburg, 184; witches ducked in 1760, 185; Lady Hatton's reputation for witchcraft; her house in Cross Street, Hatton Garden, (_engraving_), 186; the horse-shoe a protection against witches, 187; belief in witchcraft recently and still existing, 187; witch-doctors still practising, 189; prevalence of the superstition in France, 189; "floating a witch" (_engraving_), 191. 

Women accompanying the Crusades in arms, ii. 12, 57, 67. 

Woodstock Palace a "haunted house;" account of the noises, and their cause, ii. 222; _view of_, 217. 

Wulstan, Bishop, his antipathy to long hair, i. 297. 

Wurtzburg, numerous executions for witchcraft, ii. 162, 184; _view_ in, 183. 

York, Duke of, his duel with Col. Lennox, ii. 293. 

Zara besieged by the Crusaders, ii. 76. 

Zachaire, Denis, the Alchymist, his interesting memoir of himself, i. 146. 

THE END. 

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