The Book of Were-Wolves, Sabine Baring-Gould [chapter books to read to 5 year olds txt] 📗

snow covered the ground, and her footsteps could

be traced at intervals where she had diverged from the beaten track.

In that part of the road where the trees were thickest, there were

marks of two pair of feet leaving the path; but owing to the density

of the trees at that spot and to the slightness of the fall of snow,

which did not reach the soil, where shaded by the pines, the

footprints were immediately lost. By the following morning a heavy

fall had obliterated any further traces which daylight might have

discovered.

 

The servant-girl also was never seen again.

 

During the winter of 1849 the wolves were supposed to have been

particularly ravenous, for thus alone did people account for the

mysterious disappearances of children.

 

A little boy had been sent to a fountain to fetch water; the pitcher

was found standing by the well, but the boy had vanished. The

villagers turned out, and those wolves which could be found were

despatched.

 

We have already introduced our readers to Polomyja, although the

occurrences above related did not take place among those eight hovels,

but in neighbouring villages. The reason for our having given a more

detailed account of this cluster of houses—rude cabins they

were—will now become apparent.

 

In May, 1849, the innkeeper of Polomyja missed a couple of ducks, and

his suspicions fell upon the beggar who lived there, and whom he held

in no esteem, as he himself was a hardworking industrious man, whilst

Swiatek maintained himself, his wife, and children by mendicity,

although possessed of sufficient arable land to yield an excellent

crop of maize, and produce vegetables, if tilled with ordinary care.

 

As the publican approached the cottage a fragrant whiff of roast

greeted his nostrils.

 

“I’ll catch the fellow in the act,” said the innkeeper to himself,

stealing up to the door, and taking good care not to be observed.

 

As he threw open the door, he saw the mendicant hurriedly shuffle

something under his feet, and conceal it beneath his long clothes. The

publican was on him in an instant, had him by the throat, charged him

with theft, and dragged him from his seat. Judge of his sickening

horror when from beneath the pauper’s clothes rolled forth the head of

a girl about the age of fourteen or fifteen years, carefully separated

from the trunk.

 

In a short while the neighbours came up. The venerable Swiatek was

locked up, along with his wife, his daughter—a girl of sixteen—and a

son, aged five.

 

The hut was thoroughly examined, and the mutilated remains of the poor

girl discovered. In a vat were found the legs and thighs, partly raw,

partly stewed or roasted. In a chest were the heart, liver, and

entrails, all prepared and cleaned, as neatly as though done by a

skilful butcher; and, finally, under the oven was a bowl full of fresh

blood. On his way to the magistrate of the district. the wretched man

flung himself repeatedly on the ground, struggled with his guards, and

endeavoured to suffocate himself by gulping clown clods of earth and

stones, but was prevented by his conductors.

 

When taken before the Protokoll at Dabkow, he stated that he had

already killed and—assisted by his family—eaten six persons: his

children, however, asserted most positively that the number was much

greater than he had represented, and their testimony is borne out by

the fact, that the remains of fourteen different caps and suits of

clothes, male as well as female, were found in his house.

 

The origin of this horrible and depraved taste was as follows,

according to Swiatek’s own confession:—

 

In 1846, three years previous, a Jewish tavern in the neighbourhood

had been burned down, and the host had himself perished in the flames.

Swiatek, whilst examining the ruins, had found the half-roasted corpse

of the publican among the charred rafters of the house. At that time

the old man was craving with hunger, having been destitute of food for

some time. The scent and the sight of the roasted flesh inspired him

with an uncontrollable desire to taste of it. He tore off a portion of

the carcase and satiated his hunger upon it, and at the same time he

conceived such a liking for it, that he could feel no rest till he had

tasted again. His second victim was the orphan above alluded to; since

then—that is, during the period of no less than three years—he had

frequently subsisted in the same manner, and had actually grown sleek

and fat upon his frightful meals.

 

The excitement roused by the discovery of these atrocities was

intense; several poor mothers who had bewailed the loss of their

little ones, felt their wounds reopened agonisingly. Popular

indignation rose to the highest pitch: there was some fear lest the

criminal should be torn in pieces himself by the enraged people, as

soon as he was brought to trial: but he saved the necessity of

precautions being taken to ensure his safety, for, on the first night

of his confinement, he hanged himself from the bars of the

prison-window.

 

CHAPTER XV.

 

ANOMALOUS CASE.—THE HUMAN HYÆNA.

 

It is well known that Oriental romance is full of stories of violators

of graves. Eastern superstition attributes to certain individuals a

passion for unearthing corpses and mangling them. Of a moonlight night

weird forms are seen stealing among the tombs, and burrowing into them

with their long nails, desiring to reach the bodies of the dead ere

the first streak of dawn compels them to retire. These ghouls, as they

are called, are supposed generally to require the flesh of the dead

for incantations or magical compositions, but very often they are

actuated by the sole desire of rending the sleeping corpse, and

disturbing its repose. There is every probability that these ghouls

were no mere creations of the imagination, but were actual

resurrectionists. Human fat and the hair of a corpse which has grown

in the grave, form ingredients in many a necromantic receipt, and the

witches who compounded these diabolical mixtures, would unearth

corpses in order to obtain the requisite ingredients. It was the same

in the middle ages, and to such an extent did the fear of ghouls

extend, that it was common in Brittany for churchyards to be provided

with lamps, kept burning during the night, that witches might be

deterred from venturing under cover of darkness to open the graves.

 

Fornari gives the following story of a ghoul in his _History of

Sorcerers_:—

 

In the beginning of the 15th century, there lived at Bagdad an aged

merchant who had grown wealthy in his business, and who had an only

son to whom he was tenderly attached. He resolved to marry him to the

daughter of another merchant, a girl of considerable fortune, but

without any personal attractions. Abul-Hassan, the merchant’s son, on

being shown the portrait of the lady, requested his father to delay

the marriage till he could reconcile his mind to it. Instead, however,

of doing this, he fell in love with another girl, the daughter of a

sage, and he gave his father no peace till he consented to the

marriage with the object of his affections. The old man stood out as

long as he could, but finding that his son was bent on acquiring the

hand of the fair Nadilla, and was equally resolute not to accept the

rich and ugly lady, he did what most fathers, under such

circumstances, are constrained to do, he acquiesced.

 

The wedding took place with great pomp and ceremony, and a happy

honeymoon ensued, which might have been happier but for one little

circumstance which led to very serious consequences.

 

Abul-Hassan noticed that his bride quitted the nuptial couch as soon

as she thought her husband was asleep, and did not return to it, till

an boar before dawn.

 

Filled with curiosity, Hassan one night feigned sleep, and saw his

wife rise and leave the room as usual. He followed cautiously, and saw

her enter a cemetery. By the straggling moonbeams he beheld her go

into a tomb; he stepped in after her.

 

The scene within was horrible. A party of ghouls were assembled with

the spoils of the graves they had violated., and were feasting on the

flesh of the long-buried corpses. His own wife, who, by the way, never

touched supper at home, played no inconsiderable part in the hideous

banquet.

 

As soon as he could safely escape, Abul-Hassan stole back to his bed.

 

He said nothing to his bride till next evening when supper was laid,

and she declined to eat; then he insisted on her partaking, and when

she positively refused, he exclaimed wrathfully,—“Yes, you keep your

appetite for your feast with the ghouls!” Nadilla was silent; she

turned pale and trembled, and without a word sought her bed. At

midnight she rose, fell on her husband with her nails and teeth, tore

his throat, and having opened a vein, attempted to suck his blood; but

Abul-Hassan springing to his feet threw her down, and with a blow

killed her. She was buried next day.

 

Three days after, at midnight, she reappeared, attacked her husband

again, and again attempted to suck his blood. He fled from her, and on

the morrow opened her tomb, burned her to ashes, and cast them into

the Tigris.

 

This story connects the ghoul with the vampire. As will be seen by a

former chapter, the werewolf and the vampire are closely related.

 

That the ancients held the same belief that the witches violate

corpses, is evident from the third episode in the Golden Ass of

Apuleius. I will only quote the words of the crier:—

 

“I pray thee, tell me,” replied I, “of what kind are the duties

attached to this funeral guardianship?” “Duties!” quoth the crier;

“why, keep wide awake all night, with thine eyes fixed steadily upon

the corpse, neither winking nor blinking, nor looking to the right nor

looking to the left, either to one side or the other, be it even

little; for the witches, infamous wretches that they are! can slip out

of their skins in an instant and change themselves into the form of

any animal they have a mind; and then they crawl along so slyly, that

the eyes of justice, nay, the eyes of the sun himself, are not keen

enough to perceive them. At all events, their wicked devices are

infinite in number and variety; and whether it be in the shape of a

bird, or a dog, or a mouse, or even of a common house-fly, that they

exercise their dire incantations, if thou art not vigilant in the

extreme, they will deceive thee one way or other, and overwhelm thee

with sleep; nevertheless, as regards the reward, ‘twill be from four

to six aurei; nor, although ‘tis a perilous service, wilt thou receive

more. Nay, hold! I had almost forgotten to give thee a necessary

caution. Clearly understand, that it the corpse be not restored to the

relatives entire, the deficient pieces of flesh torn off by the teeth

of the witches must be replaced from the face of the sleepy guardian.”

 

Here we have the rending of corpses connected with change of form.

 

Marcassus relates that after a long war in Syria, during the night,

troops of lamias, female evil spirits, appeared upon the field of

battle, unearthing the hastily buried bodies of the soldiers, and

devouring the flesh off their bones. They were pursued and fired upon,

and some young men succeeded in killing a considerable number; but

during the day they had all of them the forms of wolves or hyænas.

That there is a foundation of truth in these horrible stories,