The Criminal Prosecution and Capital Punishment of Animals

That these formulas are still deemed highly efficacious is evident from the many recent cases in which they have been employed. Thus in 1842 a devil named Ro-ro-ro-ro took possession of “a maiden of angelic beauty” in Luxemburg and was cast out by Bishop Laurentius. This demon claimed to be one of the archangels expelled from heaven, and appears to have rivalled Parson Stöcker and Rector Ahlwardt in Anti-semitic animosity; when the name of Jesus was mentioned, he cried out derisively: “O, that Jew! Didn’t he have to drink gall?” When commanded to depart, he begged that he might go into some Jew. The bishop, however, refused to give him leave and bade him “go to hell,” which he forthwith did, “moaning as he went, in melancholy tones, that seemed to issue from the bowels of the earth, ‘Burning, burning, everlastingly burning in hell!’ The voice was so sad,” adds the bishop, “that we should have wept for sheer compassion, had we not known that it was the devil.”

Again, a lay brother connected with an educational institute in Rome became diabolically possessed on January 3, 1887, and was exorcised by Father Jordan. In this instance the leading spirit was Lucifer himself, attended by a host of satellites, of whom Lignifex, Latibor, Monitor, Ritu, Sefilie, Shulium, Haijunikel, Exaltor, and Reromfex were the most important. It took about an hour and a half to cast out these demons the first time, but they renewed their assaults on February 10th, 11th, and 17th, and were not completely discomfited and driven back into the infernal regions until February 23rd, and then only by using the water of Lourdes, which, as Father Jordan states, acted upon them like poison, causing them to writhe to and fro. Lucifer was especially rude and saucy in his remarks. Thus, for example, when Father Jordan said, “Every knee in heaven and on the earth shall bow to the name of Jesus,” the fallen “Son of the Morning” retorted, “Not Luci, not Luci – never!”

It would be easy to multiply authentic reports of things of this sort that have happened within the memory of the present generation, such as the exorcism of a woman of twenty-seven at Laas in the Tyrol in the spring of 1892, and the expulsion of an evil spirit from a boy ten years of age at Wemding in Bavaria by a capuchin, Father Aurelian, July 13th and 14th, 1891, with the sanction of the bishops of Augsburg and Eichstätt. In the latter case we have a circumstantial account of the affair by the exorcist himself, who, in conclusion, uses the following strong language: “Whosoever denies demoniacal possession in our days confesses thereby that he has gone astray from the teaching of the Catholic Church; but he will believe in it when he himself is in the possession of the devil in hell. As for myself I have the authority of two bishops.” In a pamphlet on this subject printed at Munich in 1892, and entitled Die Teufelsaustreibung in Wemding, the author, Richard Treufels, takes the same view, declaring that diabolical possession “is an incontestable fact, confirmed by the traditions of all nations of ancient and modern times, by the unequivocal testimony of the Old and New Testaments, and by the teaching and practice of the Catholic Church.” Christ, he says, gave his disciples power and authority over all devils to cast them out, and the same power is divinely conferred upon every priest by his consecration, although it is never to be exercised without the permission of his bishop.

Doubtless modern science by investigating the laws and forces of nature is gradually diminishing the realm of superstition; but there are vast low-lying plains of humanity that have not yet felt its enlightening and elevating influence. It has been estimated that nine-tenths of the rural population of Europe and ninety-nine hundredths of the peasantry, living in the vicinity of a cloister and darkened by its shadow, believe in the reality of diabolical possession and attribute most maladies of men and murrain in cattle to the direct agency of Satan, putting their faith in the “metaphysical aid” of the conjurer rather than in medical advice and veterinary skill.

Unfortunately this belief is not confined to Catholics and boors, but is held by Protestants, who are considered persons of education and superior culture. Dr. Lyman Abbott asserted in a sermon preached in Plymouth Church, that “what we call the impulses of our lower nature are the whispered suggestions of fiend-like natures, watching for our fall and exultant if they can accomplish it.” But while affirming that “evil spirits exercise an influence over mankind,” and that cranks like Guiteau, the assassin of President Garfield, are diabolically possessed, the reverend divine would hardly risk his reputation for sanity by attempting to exorcise the supposed demon. The Catholic priest holds the same view, but has the courage of his convictions and goes solemnly to work with bell, book and candle to effect the expulsion of the indwelling fiend.

The fact that such methods of healing are sometimes successful is adduced as conclusive proof of their miraculous character; but this inference is wholly incorrect. Professor Dr. Hoppe, in an essay on Der Teufels- und Geisterglaube und die psychologische Erklärung des Besessenseins (Allgemeine Zeitschrift für Psychiatrie, Bd. LV. p. 290), gives a psychological explanation of these puzzling phenomena. “The priest,” he says, “exerts a salutary influence upon the brain through the respect and dignity which he inspires, just as Christ in his day wrought upon those who were sick and possessed with devils.” Indeed, it is expressly stated by the evangelist that Jesus did not attempt to do wonderful works among people who did not believe. According to this theory the exorcism effects a cure by its powerful action on the imagination, just as there are frequent ailments, for which a wise physician administers bread pills and a weak solution of powdered sugar as the safest and best medicaments. Professor Hoppe, therefore, approves of “priestly conjurations for the expulsion of devils as a psychical means of healing,” and thinks that the more ceremoniously the rite can be performed in the presence of grave and venerable witnesses, the more effective it will be. This opinion is endorsed by a Catholic priest, Friedrich Jaskowski, in a pamphlet entitled Der Trierer Rock und seine Patienten vom Jahre 1891 (Saarbrücken: Carl Schmidtke, 1894). The author belongs to the diocese of Trier and is therefore under the jurisdiction of the bishop, Dr. Felix Korum, whose statements concerning the miracles wrought and the evidences of divine mercy manifested during the exhibition of the “holy coat” in 1891 he courageously reviews and conclusively refutes. The bishop had printed what he called “documentary proofs,” consisting of certificates issued by obscure curates and country doctors, that certain persons suffering chiefly from diseases of the nervous system had been healed, and sought to discover in these cures the working of divine agencies. Jaskowski shows that in several instances the persons said to have found relief died shortly afterwards, and maintains that where cures actually occurred they “were not due to a miracle or any direct interference of God with the established order of things, but happened in a purely natural manner.” He quotes the late Professor Charcot, Dr. Forel, and other neuropathologists to establish the fact that hetero-suggestion emanating from a physician or priest, or auto-suggestion originating in the person’s own mind, may often be the most effective remedy for neurotic disorders of every kind. In auto-suggestion the patient is possessed with the fixed idea that the doing of a certain thing, which may be in itself absolutely indifferent, will afford relief. As an example of this faith-cure Jaskowski refers to the woman who was diseased with an issue of blood, and approaching Jesus said within herself: “If I may but touch his garment, I shall be whole.” This is precisely the position taken by Jesus himself, who turned to the woman and said: “Daughter, be of good comfort; thy faith hath made thee whole.” Jaskowski also quotes the declaration of the evangelist referred to above, that in a certain place the people’s lack of faith prevented Jesus from doing many wondrous works, and does not deny that on this principle, which is now recognized by the most eminent physicians, some few of the hundreds of pilgrims may have been restored to health by touching the holy coat of Trier; and there is no doubt that the popular belief in Bishop Korum’s assertion that it is the same garment which Jesus wore and the woman touched, would greatly increase its healing efficacy through the force of auto-suggestion (see my article on “Recent Recrudescence of Superstition” in Appleton’s Popular Science Monthly for Oct. 1895, pp. 762-66).

The Bishop of Bamberg in Bavaria has been stigmatized as a hypocrite because he sends the infirm of his flock on a pilgrimage to Lourdes or Laas or some other holy shrine, while he prefers for himself the profane waters of Karlsbad or Kissingen. But in so doing he is not guilty of any inconsistency, since a journey to sacred places and contact with sacred relics would not act upon him with the same force as upon the ignorant and superstitious masses of his diocese. His conduct only evinces his disbelief in the supernatural character of the remedies he prescribes. The distinguished French physician, Professor Charcot, as already mentioned, recognized the curative power of faith under certain circumstances, and occasionally found it eminently successful in hysterical and other purely nervous affections. In some cases he did not hesitate to prescribe a pilgrimage to the shrine of any saint for whom the patient may have had a peculiar reverence; but in no instance in his experience did faith or exorcism or hagiolatry heal an organic disease, set a dislocated joint or restore an amputated limb. What Falstaff says of honour is equally true of faith, it “hath no skill in surgery.”

But to return from this digression, Père Bougeant’s theory of the diabolical possession of pagans and unbaptized persons would provide for comparatively few devils, and the gradual diffusion of Christianity would constantly diminish the supply of human beings available as their proper habitations. The ultimate conversion of the whole world and the custom of baptizing infants as soon as they are born would, therefore, produce serious domiciliary destitution and distress among the evil spirits and set immense numbers of them hopelessly adrift as vagabonds, and thus create an extremely undesirable diabolical proletariat. This difficulty is avoided by assuming that the vast majority of devils are incarnate in the billions of beasts of all kinds, which dwell upon the earth or fly in the air or fill the waters of the rivers and the seas. This hypothesis, he adds, “enables me to ascribe to the lower animals thought, knowledge, feeling, and a spiritual principle or soul without running counter to the truths of religion. Indeed, so far from being astonished at their manifestations of intelligence, foresight, memory and reason, I am rather surprised that they do not display these qualities in a higher degree, since their soul is probably far more perfect than ours. Their defects are, as I have discovered, owing to the fact that in brute as in us, the mind works through material organs, and inasmuch as these organs are grosser and less perfect in the lower animals than in man, it follows that their exhibitions of intelligence, their thoughts and all their mental operations must be less perfect; and, if these proud spirits are conscious of their condition, how humiliating it must be for them to see themselves thus embruted! Whether they are conscious of it or not, this deep degradation is the first act of God’s vengeance executed on his foes. It is a foretaste of hell.”

Only by such an assumption, as our author proceeds to show, is it possible to justify the ways of man to the lower animals and to reconcile his cruel treatment of them with the goodness of an all-wise and all-powerful maker and ruler of the universe. For this reason, he goes on to explain, the Christian Church has never deemed it a duty to take the lower animals under its protection or to inculcate ordinary natural kindness towards them. Hence in countries, like Italy and Spain, where the influence of Catholicism has been supreme for centuries, not only are wild birds and beasts of chase relentlessly slaughtered and exterminated, but even useful domestic animals, asses, sumpter-mules and pack-horses, are subjected to a supererogation of suffering at the hands of ruthless man. As the pious Parsi conscientiously comes up to the help of Ahuramazda against the malevolent Angrô-mainyush by killing as many as possible of the creatures which the latter has made, so the good Catholic becomes an efficient co-worker with God by maltreating brutes and thus aiding the Almighty in punishing the devils, of which they are the visible and bruisable forms. Whatever pain is inflicted is felt, not by the physical organism, but by the animated spirit. It is the embodied demon that really suffers, howling in the beaten dog and squealing in the butchered pig.

There are doubtless many persons of tender susceptibilities, who cannot bear to think that the animals, whose daily companionship we enjoy, the parrot we feed with sugar, the pretty pug we caress and the noble horse, which ministers to our comfort and convenience, are nothing but devils predestined to everlasting torture. But these purely sentimental considerations are of no weight in the scale of reason. “What matters it,” replies the Jesuit Father, “whether it is a devil or another kind of creature that is in our service or contributes to our amusement? For my part, this idea pleases rather than repels me; and I recognize with gratitude the beneficence of the Creator in having provided me with so many little devils for my use and entertainment. If it be said that these poor creatures, which we have learned to love and so fondly cherish, are fore-ordained to eternal torments, I can only adore the decrees of God, but do not hold myself responsible for the terrible sentence; I leave the execution of the dread decision to the sovereign judge and continue to live with my little devils, as I live pleasantly with a multitude of persons, of whom, according to the teachings of our holy religion, the great majority will be damned.” The crafty disciple of Loyola, elusive of disagreeable deductions, is content to accept the poodle in its phenomenal form and to make the most of it, without troubling himself about “des Pudels Kern.”

This doctrine, he thinks, is amply illustrated and confirmed by an appeal to the consentient opinion of mankind or the argument from universal belief, which has been so often and so effectively urged in proof of the existence of God. If the maxim universitas non delinquit has the same validity in the province of philosophy as in that of law, then we are justified in assuming that the whole human race cannot go wrong even in purely metaphysical speculation and that unanimity in error is a psychological impossibility. The criterion of truth, quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus, by which the Roman hierarchy is willing to have its claims to ecclesiastical catholicity and doctrinal orthodoxy tested, is confined to Christendom in its application and does not consider the views of persons outside of the body of believers. In the question under discussion the argument is not subject to such limitations, but gathers testimony from all races and religions, showing that there is not a civilized nation or savage tribe on the face of the earth, which does not regard or has not regarded the lower animals as embodiments of evil spirits and sought to propitiate them. That “the devil is an ass” is a truth so palpable that it has passed into a proverb. Baal-zebub means fly-god; and the Christian Satan betrays his presence by the cloven foot of the goat or the solid hoof of the horse. In folk-lore, which is the débris of exploded mythologies adrift on the stream of popular tradition, cats, dogs, otters, apes, ravens, blackcocks, capercailzies, rabbits, hedgehogs, wolves, were-wolves, foxes, polecats, swine, serpents, toads, and countless varieties of insects, reptiles and vermin figure as incarnations and instruments of the devil; and Mephistopheles reveals himself to Faust as

“Der Herr der Ratten und der Mäuse,Der Fliegen, Frösche, Wanzen, Läuse.”“The Lord of rats and of the mice,Of flies and frogs, bed-bugs and lice.”

The worship of animals originates in the belief that they are embodiments of devils, so that zoölatry, which holds such a prominent place in primitive religions, is only a specific form of demonolatry. The objection that a flea or a fly, a mite or a mosquito is too small a creature to furnish fit lodgment for a demon, Father Bougeant dismisses with an indulgent smile and disparaging shrug as implying a gross misconception of the nature and properties of spirit, which is without extension or dimension and therefore capable of animating the most diminutive particle of organized matter. Large and little are purely relative terms. God, he says, could have made man as small as the tiniest puceron without any decrease of his spiritual powers. “It is, therefore, no more difficult to believe that a devil may be incorporated in the delicate body of a gnat than in the huge bulk of an elephant.” The size of the physical habitation, in which spirits take up their temporary abode, is a thing of no consequence. In fact, devils in the forms of gnats and tiny insects were thought to be especially dangerous, since one might swallow them unawares and thus become diabolically possessed. The demon, liberated by the death and dissolution of the insect, was supposed to make a tenement of the unfortunate person’s stomach, producing gripes and playing ventriloquous tricks. Thus it is recorded in the Dies Caniculuares of Majolus (Meyer: Der Aberglaube des Mittelalters, p. 296-7) that a young maiden in the Erzgebirge near Joachimsthal, in 1559, swallowed a fly, while drinking beer. The evil spirit, incarnate in the fly, took possession of the maiden and began to speak out of her, thus attracting crowds of people, who put questions to the devil and tried to drive him out by prayers, in which the unhappy girl sometimes joined, greatly to her discomfort, since the devil waxed exceeding wroth and unruly and caused her much suffering, whenever she uttered the name of Christ. Finally the parish priest had her brought into the church, where he succeeded with considerable difficulty in exorcising her. The stubborn demon resisted for two years all efforts to cast him out; he even tried to compromise with the girl, promising to be content with a finger nail or a single hair of her head, but she declined all overtures, and he was at last expelled by means of a potent conjuration, which lasted from midnight till midday.

As the human soul is released by death, so the extinction of life in any animal sets its devil free, who, instead of entering upon a spiritual state of existence, goes into the egg or embryo of another animal and resumes his penal bondage to the flesh. “Thus a devil, after having been a cat or a goat, may pass, not by choice, but by constraint, into the embryo of a bird, a fish or a butterfly. Happy are those who make a lucky hit and become household pets, instead of beasts of burden or of slaughter. The lottery of destiny bars them the right of voluntary choosing.” The doctrine of transmigration, continues our author, “which Pythagoras taught of yore and some Indian sages hold to-day, is untenable in its application to men and contrary to religion, but it fits admirably into the system already set forth concerning the nature of beasts, and shocks neither our faith nor our reason.” Furthermore, it explains why “all species of animals produce many more eggs or embryos than are necessary to propagate their kind and to provide for a normal increase.” Of the millions of germs, of which “great creating nature” is so prolific, comparatively few ever develop into living creatures; only those which are vivified by a devil are evolved into complete organisms; the others perish. This seeming superfluity and waste can be most easily reconciled with the careful economy and wise frugality of nature by viewing it as a manifestation of the bountiful and beneficent providence of God in preventing “any lack of occupation or abode on the part of the devils,” which are being constantly disembodied and re-embodied. “This accounts for the prodigious clouds of locusts and countless hosts of caterpillars, which suddenly desolate our fields and gardens. The cause of these astonishing multiplications has been sought in cold, heat, rain and wind, but the real reason is that, at the time of their appearance, extraordinary quantities of animals have died or their embryos been destroyed, so that the devils that animated them were compelled to avail themselves at once of whatever species they found most ready to receive them, which would naturally be the superabundant eggs of insects.” The more profoundly this subject is investigated, he concludes, and the more light our observations and researches throw upon it from all sides, the more probable does the hypothesis here suggested in explanation of the puzzling phenomena of animal life and intelligence appear.

Father Bougeant calls his lucubration “a new system of philosophy”; but this is not strictly true. He has only given a fuller and more facetious exposition of a doctrine taught by many of the greatest lights of the Catholic Church, among others by Thomas Aquinas, whose authority as a thinker Pope Leo XIII. distinctly recognized and earnestly sought to restore to its former prestige. Bougeant’s ingenious dissertation has a vein of irony or at least a strain of jocundity in it, approaching at times so perilously near the fatal brink of persiflage, that one cannot help surmising an intention to render the whole thing ridiculous in a witty and underhand way eminently compatible with Jesuitical habits of mind; but whether serious or satirical, his treatise is an excellent example and illustration of the kind of dialectic hair-splitting and syllogistic rubbish, which passed for reasoning in the early and middle ages of the Christian era, and which the greatest scholars and acutest intellects of those days fondly indulged in and seem to have been fully satisfied with. Here, too, we come upon the metaphysical and theological groundwork, upon which was reared by a strictly logical process a vast superstructure of ecclesiastical excommunication and criminal prosecution against bugs and beasts. He protests with never-tiring and needless iteration his absolute devotion to the precepts of religion; indeed, like the lady in the play, he “protests too much, methinks.” In all humbleness and submission he bows to the authority of the Church, and would not touch the ark of the covenant even with the tip of his finger, but his easy acquiescence has an air of perfunctoriness, and in his assenting lips there lurks a secret, semi-sarcastic leer, which casts suspicion on his words and looks like poking fun at the principles he professes and turning them into raillery.

Indeed, such covert derision would have been a suitable way of ridiculing the gross popular superstition of his time, which saw a diabolical incarnation in every unfamiliar form of animal life. During the latter half of the sixteenth century a Swiss naturalist named Thurneysser, who held the position of physician in ordinary to the Elector Johann Georg von Brandenburg, kept some scorpions bottled in olive oil, which were feared by the common people as terrible devils endowed with magic power (fürchterliche Zauberteufel). Thurneysser presented also to Basel, his native city, a large elk, which had been given to him by Prince Radziwil; but the good Baselers looked upon the strange animal as a most dangerous demon, and a pious old woman finally rid the town of the dreaded beast by feeding it with an apple stuck full of broken needles.

A distinguished Spanish theologian of the sixteenth century, Martin Azpilcueta, commonly known as Dr. Navarre, refers, in his work on excommunication, to a case in which anathemas were fulminated against certain large sea-creatures called terones, which infested the waters of Sorrento and destroyed the nets of the fishermen. He speaks of them as “fish or cacodemons” (pisces seu cacodemones), and maintains that they are subject to anathematization, not as fish, but only as devils. In his Five Counsels and other tractates on this subject (Opera, Lyons, 1589; reprinted at Venice, 1601-2, and at Cologne, 1616) he often takes issue with Chassenée on minor points, but the French jurist and the Spanish divine agree on the main question.