The Judge, His Wife and the Witch’s Orgy September 22, 2015
Author: Beach Combing | in : Medieval, Modern , trackback
Beach has recently been reading the descriptions of Johann Weyer (obit 1588) who published in 1563 On the Illusions of the Demons and on Spells and Poisons. Weyer’s position was essentially this: the supernatural certainly existed (there was no question for example that the Devil abused and tempted humanity); but the witch craze, which he had seen grow around him was almost complete bunkum. This dual view, rejecting the witch hunts yet retaining the supernatural makes Weyer a rather special witness: he is like us and yet not like us, he shares the values of his contemporaries but proved to have rather better judgement. Some of the anecdotes he tells would be found in perhaps no other sixteenth-century work: skeptics like Reginald Scot would not have considered paranormal explanations. Here is a fascinating story about a Dutch magistrate, who had been advised by a soothsayer to arrest and burn several women.
Finally, this soothsayer or Pythian prophet promised the official privately that, if the latter would not be offended, he would give information against one more woman who was guilty of maleficium [cursing]. The official readily agreed and the informer accused the official’s wife, stating that he would give open demonstration of the fact lest the man have any doubts about the matter. He set an hour in which her husband might see for himself that she was present at the assembly and dances of the other witches.
The official’s blood must have run cold because witches’ sabbats were notorious for not just dancing and eating, but also sexual license.
The official agreed to the proposal, and he invited some friends and relatives to dine at the same table with himself and his wife at a certain appointed time; meanwhile he did not disclose the reason for the gathering. Then, at the hour indicated by the soothsayer, he rose from the table and bade all his guests to remain with his wife and not move from their places before he should return. Next, he was guided by the soothsayer to a spot of the latter’s choosing, and he thought that he could clearly see assembled witches, and dances, and all sorts of allurements to pleasure – and his own wife among the assembly pursuing the same delights and folly as the others.
The implication of these words is polite but clear.
Returning home at once, he found his invited friends sitting happily at the table along with his wife, just where he had left them. And when he anxiously inquired whether his wife had left her seat, he was told by all of them at once that she had remained fixed to the spot during his absence. And of the official revealed the whole matter, repenting too late of the punishment that he had inflicted upon innocent women, if I recall correctly, he condemned the Pythian accuser to death.
A couple of thoughts here. In the sixteenth century there was the growing realization among a minority of writers that ‘witches’ did not really visit the sabbat, they entered a (perhaps drug induced) trance and then flew mentally to the place of meeting: in other words the whole experience was a vivid dream. This story sounds, in some ways, like it might come out of that tradition: i.e. his wife only thought she was there. But, of course, it wasn’t the wife that thought she was there but the sorcerer. Mmmm. Had the sorceror, then, created an illusion for the judge? drbeachcombing AT yahoo DOT com The fate of the sorcerer was fairly common: if you informed on witches sooner or later it was understood that you were likely a witch yourself.
