CHAPTER XXII

THE PHANTASMAL DOUBLE

According to Adolphe d'Assier, member of the Bordeaux Academy of Sciences, there is no doubt that the existence of the personality in animals as a separate appearance is established, and as it is a replica of the external form of the animal, he regards it as a living and phantasmal image.[168] He cites the following stories in support of his theory.

"Towards the end of 1869, finding myself at Bordeaux, I met one evening a friend who was going to a magnetic _séance_, and asked me to accompany him. I accepted his invitation, desiring to see magnetism at close quarters. The _séance_ presented nothing remarkable. I was, however, struck with one unexpected circumstance. Towards the middle of the evening one of the persons present, having noticed a spider on the floor, crushed it with his foot.

"'Ah!' cried the medium at the same moment, 'I see the spirit of the spider escaping.'

"In the language of mediums, as we know, the word _spirit_ designates that which I have called the posthumous phantom.

"'What is the form of the spirit?' asked the hypnotiser.

"'It has the form of a spider,' answered the medium.'"

This little incident, which recalls the ghost of a flea pictured by William Blake, the artist, and Dr. Reichenbach's dying mouse, led d'Assier to study the question of the duplication of personality among domestic animals. After some investigation he was sure that the medium's vision of a spirit spider was the reality, and he quotes other examples of phantasmal doubles.

On April 18th, 1705, M. Milanges de la Richardière, son of an advocate to the Parliament of Paris, when riding through Noisy-le-Grand, was surprised when his horse came to a dead stop in the middle of the road. At the same moment he saw a shepherd, of sinister countenance, carrying a crook, and accompanied by two black dogs with short ears. The man said, "Go home, sir. Your horse will not go forward."

At first the rider laughed, and then finding he could not make his horse advance an inch, he was forced to return, against his will. Some days later he was taken ill, and doctors were called in, who finding that his complaint did not yield to ordinary remedies, began to talk of sorcery. Young Milanges then confessed to his meeting with the strange shepherd and his dogs, and a few days later, to his surprise, when entering his own room, he saw the shepherd sitting in an arm-chair, dressed as he had seen him before, holding the crook still in his hand, and with the two black dogs by his side. In his terror the young man called for his servants, but they could not see the phantom man and animals.

At about ten o'clock the same night, however, the ghostly shepherd flung himself at the young man, who drew a knife from his pocket and made five or six cuts at his adversary's face.

A few days later the shepherd came to the house and confessed that he was a sorcerer and had persecuted M. Milanges. He had transported his double into the young man's chamber, as well as the phantasmal doubles of his black dogs.

The existence of the living phantom, thus being proved to M. d'Assier's satisfaction, he conceives that a posthumous phantom is merely the continuation, as it were, of the living double. A story of such an animal apparition was given to him by an educated and reliable farmer at St. Croix, Ariège.

"One of my comrades," said the farmer, "was returning home at a late hour of the night. At some distance from his house, which was situated on a lonely farm, he saw an ass browsing in an oat-field by the side of the road. Moved by a feeling of neighbourly interest, natural among farmers, he intended to take the unprofitable guest out of the field, and advanced to seize the ass and lead it to his own stable so that its owner might claim it. The animal allowed him to approach without difficulty and to lead it away without resistance. But at the very door of his stable the ass suddenly disappeared out of his grasp, like a shadow vanishing. In a fright at this uncanny incident, the farmer woke up his brother to tell him what had occurred, and in the morning they went to the oat-field, anxious to see whether much havoc had been done to the crops, but could find no trace of the oats having been touched or trampled upon."

The night was clear and there was no cloud in the sky. The young man, when closely questioned, asserted again and again that he had distinctly seen the ass vanish before his eyes at the door of the stable.

D'Assier's explanation is that the animal's spectre, originating on the same principle as the human spectre, exhibits posthumous manifestations analogous to those observed in the latter cases. The ass of St. Croix was met with at night because, like the posthumous phantom of a human being, he shuns daylight. "He is in an oat-field, pasturing according to the instinctive habit of his race, but in reality browses (as one would naturally infer) but the phantom of grass or grain. He follows his leader whilst they are upon the road, but refuses to enter the stable, which is for him a prison, and vanishes in order to escape it. Here we have the essential features of posthumous manifestations: and if the young man had inquired among his neighbours, he would have learned, in all probability, that some time previously a beast of burden had died and been buried on a neighbouring farm."[169]

A similar story was told by a Customs officer, and is equally authentic.

"One evening when I happened to be on guard, with one of my comrades," said the officer, "we perceived not far from the village where I lived, a mule which grazed before us and seemed as though laden. Supposing that he was carrying contraband goods, and that his master had fled on seeing us, we ran after the animal. The mule dashed into a meadow and after having made different bolts to escape us, he entered the village, and here we separated. Whilst my companion continued to follow him, I took a cross road so as to head him off. Seeing himself closely pressed, the animal quickened his pace, and several of the inhabitants were awakened by the noise of his hoofs clattering on the pavement. I got in front of him to the crossing, at the end of the street, through which he was fleeing, and at the moment when, seeing him close to me, I put out my hand to seize his halter, he disappeared like a shade, and I saw nothing but my comrade, who was as amazed as myself."

"Are you quite sure that he hadn't turned aside into another road?" asked d'Assier of the Customs officer who told him the story.

"That would have been quite impossible: the place where we were had no outlet, and the only way he could get away was by passing over my body: and, besides, the night was clear enough for us to see all his movements. Next morning the inhabitants of the village were cross-questioning each other about the racket they had heard in the night."

"Like the ass of St. Croix," continues d'Assier, "and like all posthumous phantoms, our mule shows himself at night. He is met in a pasture all absorbed in his favourite occupation, that is to say, browsing imaginary grass. As soon as he finds himself tracked by the Customs officers he takes flight, as though he were really carrying contraband goods in his panniers, and he vanishes when he sees himself about to be captured--all things which characterise the post-sepulchral Spectre."

"In certain cases, not yet well defined," adds the same author,[170] "our internal personality may, by reason of its fluidic nature, take on animal forms. Hence, when one is in the presence of the spectre of an animal, there is some reason to apprehend that this may be a lycanthropic manifestation of the human phantom, unless certain particularities identify its true origin. But I have said enough," he concludes, "to establish the existence of the fluid form-personality in animals and to demonstrate that the post-sepulchral humanity is but one particular case of a more general law--that of posthumous animality."

Another story of animal transformation is regarded by d'Assier as being a case of lycanthropia.

Two brothers occupied a house at St. Lizier, one of whom tells the story as follows:--

"I lived at that time in one of those little houses that you can see at the upper end of the town. I was about twelve years old and my brother was about seventeen. We slept together in a room to which we ascended by a small staircase. One evening we had just gone to bed when we heard someone ascending the steps. Then an animal about the size of a calf appeared. As the window had no blinds and the night was clear, it was easy for us to make out the animal's shape. Frightened at the sight of it, I clung to my brother, who at the first moment seemed as frightened as myself. But, recovering from his terror, he leaped out of bed, ran and caught up a pitchfork which was in the corner of the room, and, placing himself before the animal, said to it in a firm and resolute voice:

"'If thou comest by permission of God, speak: if from the devil, thou wilt have to deal with me.'

"Thus encountered, the animal wheeled swiftly round, and in turning it struck the framework of my bed with its tail. I then heard it descend the staircase precipitately, but as soon as it arrived at the bottom it disappeared and my brother, who was close behind it, was unable to see where it went. It is unnecessary to add that the door of the house was fast shut. As soon as I heard it descend the stairs I took courage and as the window of our room was over the street door I opened it to watch the strange visitor go out, but I saw nothing. My brother and I thought we had seen a wer-wolf and we accused an inhabitant of the vicinity, to whom were charged other adventures of this kind."

A more explicit case of lycanthropy occurred at Serisols, in the Canton of St. Croix, about sixty years ago.

A miller called Bigot had a reputation for sorcery. One day when his wife rose very early to go and wash some linen not very far from the house, he tried to dissuade her, repeating to her several times, "Do not go there: you will be frightened."

"Why should I be frightened?" she asked.

"I tell you you will be frightened," repeated her husband.

She did not take his threats seriously and went out in spite of them.

Hardly had she taken her place at the washing-tub, however, before she saw an animal moving here and there in front of her. It was not yet daylight, and she could not clearly make out its shape, but she thought it was a kind of a dog. Annoyed by its restless movements and not being able to scare it away, she threw her wooden clothes-beater at it, and the tool hit the animal in the eye. Immediately the creature disappeared and at the same moment Bigot's children heard him utter a cry of pain from his bed and shout out, "Ah! the wretch! She has destroyed my eye." From that day he was blind in one eye, so that undoubtedly this animal was not an animal double, but the miller's double in animal form.

D'Assier describes an epidemic of "obsession," or possession by demons, which occurred in 1857 at Morzine, in Savoy, and lasted until 1863, many young women and animals being attacked by a peculiar affliction. The atmosphere of Morzine, he says, "was impregnated with a foreign fluid (aura) since all that was required was to give change of air to ensure escape from the clutches of the disease. In certain families the domestic animals ate nothing, or satisfied themselves by gnawing the wood of their mangers; at other times it was the cows, goats, or sheep which gave no more milk, and what little some yielded was unfit for making into butter. These phenomena especially showed themselves in families where there were patients. Occasionally the sickness was transferred from persons to animals, and vice versa. If a young girl was relieved, a beast in the stable fell sick; and if the latter was cured the young girl relapsed into her former state. In face of such facts it was no longer possible to talk about obsession. The pest bursting forth simultaneously in houses and cattle-sheds, could only be ascribed to a physical cause, and the disorders that it provoked in persons attacked showed clearly that these phenomena were due to an excess or a degeneration of the mesmeric fluid...."[171] As a remedy, d'Assier suggests that "Obsession being an abnormal afflux of magnetic fluid upon the nervous system of the patient, the direct remedy is naturally the neutralisation of this fluid by a current of cerebral ether turned in the opposite direction and emanating from an energetic will."

Paracelsus, meaning probably much the same thing, declared that the astral currents produced by the imagination and will of man produced certain states in external Nature. The vehicle through which the will acts for effectuating good or evil he calls the living Mumia. The Mumia of a thing is its life-principle, a vehicle containing the essence of life. Exerting great power, it can be used in witchcraft and sorcery. "Witches," he says in "De Pestilitate," "may make a bargain with evil spirits, and cause them to carry the Mumia to certain places where it will come into contact with other people, without the knowledge of the latter, and cause them harm." Thus diseases are spread, milk spoilt and cattle infected, the injured people not knowing the cause of the evils with which they are afflicted.

A curious story of bewitched cattle and "blue milk" is told by Franz Hartmann in his "Life of Paracelsus,"[172] in which a kind of animal demon appears to have "possessed" the cattle.

At a farmhouse not far from Munich the milk turned blue. It had been deposited in the usual place and darkened gradually, appearing first a light blue, and becoming of inky hue, while the layer of cream exhibited zigzag lines and shortly the whole mass began to putrefy and to emit a horrible smell. This occurred for many days running, and the farmer began to despair, for he could not discover the cause of the trouble. The stable was thoroughly cleansed, the place where the milk was kept was changed, a different food was given to the cattle, and samples of the milk were sent to Munich to be examined by chemists; the old milk-pots were replaced by new ones, and so on, but nothing produced an improvement in the existing state of affairs.

At last a Countess who resided in the neighbourhood hearing about the matter, went to the farmhouse. She took with her a clean new bottle, and filled it with the milk as it came from the bewitched cows. She placed the bottle in her own pantry, and from that day the trouble at the farm ceased, but all the milk at her own house turned blue.

This went on for three months, during which time everything that could possibly be done was done to discover the cause of the milk being in this condition. Then an old lady who lived hundreds of miles off, having been appealed to, laid a spell by her own occult powers, writing certain incantations on slips of paper which effected a cure of the trouble. But before it ceased, a strange thing happened. As one of the milkmaids was about to enter the stable before daybreak, a huge black demon, in animal form, rushed out of the half-opened door, knocked the milk-pail and lantern out of her hands, and disappeared before she could awaken the household. After this all went well again. An apparition of this character may be regarded as belonging to the familiars or elementals rather than to the animal-ghosts.

FOOTNOTES:

[168] "Posthumous Humanity," 1887.

[169] _Ibid._, pp. 74-6.

[170] _Op. cit._, p. 80.

[171] "Posthumous Humanity," 1887, pp. 247-8.

[172] 1896, p. 154.