Possession, Demoniacal And Other

by T K Oesterreich

  At most only the last state described in this quotation may be considered as possession within the meaning of this work, but Jolly’s scanty documentation is not adequate to a sure identification, and the sources on which he draws are Sanskrit works of which no translation is available. Further investigation from these works of the diffusion of possession in ancient India must therefore be left to orientalists.

  The Atharva-Veda contains a mass of exorcisms of all kinds; in fact, so great a wealth that it recalls in the most striking manner the cuneiform Babylonian tablets referred to above, of which it is also reminiscent from another point of view. Just as we fail to find in the Babylonian tablets a completely satisfying attestation of the reality of possession in ancient Mesopotamia, so the Atharva-Veda has a similar disappointment in store for us. Amongst the multitude of exorcisms which it contains there is not one which might be cited with complete certainty as applying to true possession. It is possible that this is due to inadequate translation, for that of medical terms could not well be fully clear, but in the extensive extracts before me, published in The Sacred Books of the East, I have sought in vain for any evidence which might be regarded as satisfactory.1 Rather than any other, reference might be made to the exorcism-hymn (VI, iii) which is entitled by the translator: Charm against mania. It runs thus:

  1. Release for me, O Agni, this person here, who, bound and well-secured, loudly jabbers! Then shall he have due regard for thy share (of the offering), when he shall be free from madness!

  2. Agni shall quiet down thy mind, if it has been disturbed! Cunningly do I prepare a remedy, that thou shalt be freed from madness.

  3. (Whose mind) has been maddened by the sin of the gods, or been robbed of sense by the Rakshas, (for him) do I cunningly prepare a remedy, that he shall be free from madness.

  In the translator’s commentary it is said that the early Hindu scholiast here remarks that the rite in question is used for those possessed by demons.2 Interpretation as true possession is, however, not free from doubt, for the reference may be to simple madness. The problem is to know whether the malady called “mania” by the translator is really mania or rather disturbances due to possession, but this too can only be resolved by orientalists, if indeed it be capable of real solution.

  In the old legends of the life of Buddha, on the other hand, we find surer evidence of possession. Marvellous healing powers are attributed to his mother while she was pregnant of him, and possessed persons figure amongst those who were cured by her.

  In the Lalita-Vistara, in the Gathas, it is said:

  Women and maidens, who happened to be afflicted by being possessed by demons, or by insanity, running about naked and covered with dust, regained their senses by the sight of Máyá, and, being endowed with memory, understanding, and correct notions, returned to their homes.3

  Possessed persons also figure in the Hindu legends; the following narrative occurs in the forty-fifth and forty-sixth nights of the Cukasaptati:

  There is a town of the name of Vatsamân, where lived a Brahman called Kecava who was wise, but poor. His wife, who was called Karagarâ (i.e., poison-giver), behaved so ill towards everyone that even a demon, who lived on a tree in the house, fled into the desert for fear of her. Meanwhile the Brahman was no longer able to bear the wickedness of his wife and went away also. On the way to the desert the demon saw him and said to him: “I wish to-day to offer thee hospitality.” When the Brahman heard this he was afraid. “Fear not,” said the demon, “for I used to live upon a tree in thy house, but I fled to this spot for fear of Karagarâ, and since thou hast long had to do with me as my landlord I will do good to thee. Go thy way to the village of Mrigavatî (that is to say, rich in gazelles); I will take possession of the daughter of the city, Mrigalotschanâ (signifying gazelle-eyed) and will not let myself be driven out by any exorcist; thou alone, when thou comest, shalt drive me out with a look.” Having spoken thus the demon entered into the royal virgin. Meanwhile the Brahman went to the royal city Mrigavatî and having heard the herald he went to the royal palace, but in vain he did all that magicians are accustomed to do and uttered his conjurations, the demon did not leave the maiden. When the Brahman saw that in no other way would the demon come out, he cried: “In the name of Karagarâ, come forth!” The demon replied: “See, I am coming forthwith!” and he immediately came out. Then the King gave to the Brahman the half of his kingdom and his daughter in marriage.

  When the demon had come forth he went into the town of Karnavatî (that is to say, the town with ears) and took possession of the queen, who was the half-sister on the father’s side of the above-mentioned Madana and who was called Sulotschanâ, signifying lovely-eyed. Greatly tormented by the demon, the queen became like a skeleton. Then the King, whose name was Satrughna (slayer of enemies), sent to the King Madana and begged him to send the magician Kecava. At the request of Madana and of his own wife the latter came to Karnavatî to the possessed queen. But when the demon perceived him he insulted and threatened him: “It is enough that I have done thy bidding once; now take care and look to thyself!” When the Brahman heard this he recognized that it was the same demon; then he approached and whispered in the queen’s ear: “Karagarâ is following me here; I have only come to tell thee this!” When the demon learnt that Karagarâ was coming he was seized with fright and immediately left the queen. The Brahman, covered with honours by the King, made his way back to Mrigavatî.1

  In the Dhaca-kumara-Caritam, a princess, according to Bastian, simulated possession by a spirit which her lover subsequently expelled.2

  We shall now leave antiquity and pass to mediæval and modern times. In the foreground naturally stands Europe, concerning which information is most abundant, with extremely numerous and easily accessible literary sources.

  As to the history and diffusion of possession in the Middle Ages, we are still ill-informed; all the spade-work is still to do.1 But without further ado we may say that the Christian Middle Ages were filled with the phenomena of possession. It is not rare for religious biographies to contain descriptions of them, as is amply demonstrated by a glance through the Acta Sanctorum. I have consulted a large number of the sixty-one volumes as yet available; there is not one in which under the articles energumeni and dœmones cases of possession are not recorded. In passing, the reader should also see the volumes of Görres’ Mystik which treats of possession and is largely based on the Acta Sanctorum.2

  No one has made yet a complete collection of possession-episodes, and, moreover, it would hardly be worth while to search through literature for this purpose alone. Such a collection should be made incidentally by those studying the history of churches and religions, which involves acquaintance with great masses of literature.

  We find the same stories of cures, which are already known to us from the New Testament and patristic literature, constantly repeated in the biographies and legends of the saints with a wearisome sameness.

  H. Günter believes that there is a connection between certain legends of possession and the Talmud, in which he indicates analogous features.3

  No useful purpose is served by confronting the reader with a multitude of cases; it is sufficient merely to adduce a few examples in chronological order. Owing to the complete similarity of the episodes it does not greatly matter whether some of them are or are not pure legend, for legend depicts in this connection nothing beyond what really occurred; the religious life of the Middle Ages models not only its bright but also its dark side on the time of Christ. Naturally this does not mean that the possessed voluntarily imitated the possession of the Gospels.

  In the first place we will give a few cases of possession from the beginning of the Middle Ages, then three cases from the twelfth, thirteenth and fifteenth centuries. They belong to the lives of eminent personages: St. Augustine, Bernard of Clairvaux, Francis of Assisi and Norbert of Magdeburg. I have purposely chosen a few detailed cases; others are, as we have already said, easy to find by the hundred. In view of the grea
t similarity of such stories, these examples must suffice, nor will the reader be long in crying “Enough!” I do not, nevertheless, desire to content myself with the mere affirmation that cases are very frequent in the Middle Ages, and that their type is not distinguished from that of the New Testament. Their somewhat wearisome monotony offers striking proof of the stability of these phenomena in the Christian era.

  The possession-cure traditionally attributed to St. Augustine takes us to the southern frontier of the Roman Empire, to Hippo, on the coast of what is now Algeria. Of the last days of Augustine when the Vandals were already besieging his bishopric (Augustine died during this siege) the following is related:

  I know also that this same priest and bishop was asked to offer prayers for these energumens, these sick persons, that he implored God with tears and that the demons came out of the men’s bodies. In the same way also when he was ill and kept his bed they brought to him a sick man and begged him to lay on his hands that he might be cured. He replied that if it was in his power to do anything for him he would do it at once without fail. And the other said that he had been visited and that it had been said to him in a dream: “Go and see the bishop Augustine, so that he may lay on his hands and you will be saved.” When he learnt this he made no delay in doing it and God immediately made of this sick man a healthy one.1

  Now here are some cases from the life of Bernard of Clairvaux:

  The nameless Gaul, in book vii, chap. ix of his Acts, relates that when the holy man had been in charge of Clairvaux for several years, women obsessed by the demon were brought to him so that he might cure them. The day before the arrival of the saint the demon had taken to flight of his own accord saying that he could not resist Bernard, for the latter having up to that time remained in the world and been sorely tempted by him against chastity but without being in any way overcome, he who must obey in all things would be delivered up to him. This trophy and other like ones being won from the common enemy by the grace of God, the saint had the honours of the triumph.1

  …At Bar-sur-Aube there were two women whom the demons tormented. Then their parents brought them to the man of God that he might cure them. And as they were approaching the gates of Clairvaux one of the devils said to the other by the mouth of the woman that he must come out of that woman. “And why, then?” replied the other demon. To which the first replied: “I can neither see Bernard nor hear his voice.” And on the instant he left the woman who was immediately restored to health.2

  Without stopping they therefore led to him (at Milan) a woman known to all, who had been tormented for seven years by an unclean spirit, and they begged him in the name of God to order the demon to depart and to restore the woman to health.…

  Thereupon he was greatly disturbed and said that signs should be given not to the faithful but to the heathen; having entrusted his enterprise to the Holy Spirit and being imbued through prayer with celestial strength, he overthrew Satan in the pride of his strength, put him to flight and restored the woman to health and quietude.3

  On the third day the servant of God went to the Church of St. Ambrose at Milan to celebrate the divine mysteries: an innumerable multitude awaited him there. Between the ceremonies of the masses, while the clerks were singing and he was seated near to the altar, they pointed out to him a little girl who was greatly tormented by the devil, begging him to come to the help of the poor little thing and drive out from her this frenzied devil. Having heard the entreaties of those present, and seen the young person grind her teeth and cry out in such a way that she was an object of horror to all those who saw her, he had pity on her tender age and suffered from the anguish of her suffering. He therefore took the paten of the chalice in which he was to celebrate the divine mysteries, spilt the wine therein upon his fingers, praying inwardly and trusting in the strength of God, and applied the saving liquid to the child’s lips, letting fall healing drops upon her body. Immediately Satan, scalded, could not endure the virtue of this infusion. Thanks to this urgent remedy from the Cross he came forth hastily, all trembling, in a stinking vomit. Then the girl being purged, the devil in flight and discomfited, the church chanted to God the praises due and after joyful acclamations the rejoicing people remained still until the divine mysteries had been achieved. Before the eyes of all, the girl who had been saved was led home by her people, and the man of God, jostled in the crowd, regained his abode with difficulty.4

  Ernaldus, one of the oldest biographers of St. Bernard, further relates of his visit to Milan:

  Amongst those … who were tormented an old woman, a citizen of Milan and formerly a respected matron, was propelled by the crowd as far as the Church of St. Ambrose behind the holy man; the devil had been within her for several years and was already strangling her in such a way, as might be seen and heard, that she was deprived of speech, ground her teeth and put out her tongue like an elephant’s trunk; she seemed not a woman, but a monster. Her repulsive exterior, horrible face and fetid breath attested the filthiness of Satan who inhabited her. When the man of God saw her he knew that the devil was lodged and firmly fixed in her, and that it would not be easy to expel him from a habitation which he had possessed for so long a time. Turning towards the people who were present in multitudes, he asked them to pray with more fervour, and standing with the clerks and monks near to the altar he commanded the woman to stay in the same place and remain there. The latter, indeed, offered resistance, moved more by a diabolic force than by her natural strength, and not without hurt to others she kicked even the Abbot himself. The latter was full of indulgence for these diabolic attacks; preparatory to the expulsion, he invoked with supplication the help of God, not in indignation and wrath, but with a humble and quiet heart, then proceeded to the sacrifice of the redeeming Host. Each time that he made the sign of the cross with the sacred Host, turning towards the woman, it was as if a strong athlete attacked the evil spirit. For the wicked spirit as often as the sign of the cross was directed against him testified by blows his access of rage, and showed all his spleen in rebellious protest against the excitement which he was made to endure.

  Having completed the Lord’s prayer the saint attacked the enemy more vigorously. Placing the sacred body of Jesus on the paten of the chalice and holding it above the woman’s head, he pronounced these words: “He is there, wicked spirit, thy judge, the Almighty. Now resist if thou canst! He is there, who must suffer for our salvation. Now,” said he, “let the Prince of this world be cast out! Here is the body which was taken from the Virgin’s body, stretched upon the cross, placed in the tomb, which rose again from the dead and ascended to heaven in the presence of the disciples. By the terrible power of His majesty I command thee, evil spirit, to come out of His servant and dare to touch her no more thereafter.” More terribly despairing because he must leave perforce and stay no longer, the demon’s anger was the stronger because of the few minutes which remained to him. Then the holy father returned to the altar, completed the division of the Host according to the rite, gave to his assistant the benediction which is pronounced over the people, and immediately perfect peace and health were restored to the woman. Thus the divine mysteries are of such strength and virtue that the Evil One finds himself constrained not to avowals but to flight. When the devil had departed the woman whom the evil torturer had kept for so long on a grid of torments, became once more mistress of her mind and recovered her sense and reason; as her tongue had entered again into her mouth she uttered thanksgivings, and having recognized her saviour fell prostrate at his feet. An immense clamour arose in the church, everyone uttered loud cries to the honour of God, the bells rang out, God was everywhere blessed, the homage passed all bounds, and, melted with love, the nation venerated the servant of God, whom it placed, if one may say so, above all men.

  That which had happened among the Milanese was bruited abroad, throughout Italy men spoke of the man of God, and it was everywhere told that a great prophet had arisen, strong in word and works, who in the name of Christ should c
ure the sick and deliver those possessed of the devil. His cures of sickness already won for him deep gratitude, but occasion more often arose to drive out demons, for there were more of the tormented who had recourse to his skilful aid and the operation of the greater powers obscured the lesser works.1

  Ernaldus also hands down to us a conversation of Bernard with a demon:

  He had already arrived at Pavia where the report of his virtues had preceded him. With very fitting pomp and rejoicing the happy town welcomed the man of such great fame; no delay would long have held in leash the anxiety of the people who, having heard tell of the miracles at Milan, desired to see a sign from him. Immediately behind him walked a peasant who had followed him from Milan leading a demoniac woman; he laid her at his feet relating in a tearful voice the torments which she endured. Without delay the devil betook himself to. insulting the Abbot by the mouth of the wretched woman, and mocking the servant of God: “No,” said he, “this eater of leeks, this devourer of cabbages shall not drive me away from my little bitch.” Insults of this kind were thus hurled at the man of God so that, provoked by blasphemies, he might lose patience to endure the outrages and be put to confusion before all men at hearing himself harassed with vile words. But the man of God, understanding his wiles, mocked at the mocker and without himself punishing him but leaving it to God, ordered the demoniac to be led to the Church of St. Syrus. For he intended to give honour to the martyr for the cure which he was about to accomplish and to attribute to his virtue the first-fruits of the operations. But St. Syrus sent the affair back to his house; wishing to take nothing for himself in his Church, he desired that the whole work should be attributed to the Abbot. The woman was therefore led back to the Abbot’s dwelling, while the demon said by her mouth: “Little Syrus will not drive me out, any more than little Bernard.’’ Meanwhile the Abbot, having betaken himself to prayer, was beseeching God to save the woman. Then the Evil One, as if his wickedness had changed: “How gladly,” said he, “would I come forth from this bitch! I am so greatly tormented in her! How gladly would I come forth! But I cannot.…” Having been asked the cause: “Because the great Lord does not yet will it.” “And who is the great Lord?” “Jesus of Nazareth.” To which the Man of God replied: “Where hast thou then known Jesus? Hast thou seen Him?” “I have seen Him,” replied he. “Where hast thou seen Him?” “In His glory.” “And hast thou been in glory?” “Yes, truly!” “And how hast thou departed therefrom?” “Many of us fell with Lucifer….” All these words were said in a lugubrious voice by the mouth of the old woman and were heard by all those present. Then the holy Abbot replied: “Wouldst thou not return to glory and be restored to thy first joy?” In a changed voice and bursting into laughter in an extraordinary way the devil replied: “This is very late!” And he did not say another word. Then the man of God spoke more earnestly, the Evil One withdrew vanquished, and the woman, restored to herself, uttered thanksgivings to the utmost of her power.