Volume I Part 11 (1/2)
(1) Savage Life, p. 208.
In addition to these forms of symbolical magic (which might be multiplied to any extent), we find among savages the belief in the power of songs of INCANTATION. This is a feature of magic which specially deserves our attention. In myths, and still more in marchen or household tales, we shall constantly find that the most miraculous effects are caused when the hero p.r.o.nounces a few lines of rhyme. In Rome, as we have all read in the Latin Delectus, it was thought that incantations could draw down the moon. In the Odyssey the kinsfolk of Odysseus sing ”a song of healing” over the wound which was dealt him by the boar's tusk. Jeanne d'Arc, wounded at Orleans, refused a similar remedy.
Sophocles speaks of the folly of muttering incantations over wounds that need the surgeon's knife. The song that salved wounds occurs in the Kalewala, the epic poem of the Finns. In many of Grimm's marchen, miracles are wrought by the repet.i.tion of s.n.a.t.c.hes of rhyme. This belief is derived from the savage state of fancy. According to Kohl,(1) ”Every sorrowful or joyful emotion that opens the Indian's mouth is at once wrapped up in the garb of a wabanonagamowin (chanson magicale). If you ask one of them to sing you a simple innocent hymn in praise of Nature, a spring or jovial hunting stave, he never gives you anything but a form of incantation, with which he says you will be able to call to you all the birds from the sky, and all the foxes and wolves from their caves and burrows.”(2) The giant's daughter in the Scotch marchen, Nicht, Nought, Nothing, is thus enabled to call to her aid ”all the birds of the sky”. In the same way, if you ask an Indian for a love-song, he will say that a philtre is really much more efficacious. The savage, in short, is extremely practical. His arts, music and drawing, exist not pour l'art, but for a definite purpose, as methods of getting something that the artist wants. The young lover whom Kohl knew, like the lover of Bombyca in Theocritus, believed in having an image of himself and an image of the beloved. Into the heart of the female image he thrust magic powders, and he said that this was common, lovers adding songs, ”partly elegiac, partly malicious, and almost criminal forms of incantation”.(3)
(1) Page 395.
(2) Cf. Comparetti's Traditional Poetry of the Finns.
(3) Kitchi gami, pp. 395, 397.
Among the Indo-Aryans the masaminik or incantations of the Red Man are known as mantras.(1) These are usually texts from the Veda, and are chanted over the sick and in other circ.u.mstances where magic is believed to be efficacious. Among the New Zealanders the incantations are called karakias, and are employed in actual life. There is a special karakia to raise the wind. In Maori myths the hero is very handy with his karakia.
Rocks split before him, as before girls who use incantations in Kaffir and Bushman tales. He a.s.sumes the shape of any animal at will, or flies in the air, all by virtue of the karakia or incantation.(2)
(1) Muir, Sanskrit Texts, v. 441, ”Incantations from the Atharva Veda”.
(2) Taylor's New Zealand; Theal's Kaffir Folk-Lore, South-African Folk-Lore Journal, pa.s.sim; Shortland's Traditions of the New Zealanders, pp. 130-135.
Without multiplying examples in the savage belief that miracles can be wrought by virtue of physical CORRESPONDANCES, by like acting on like, by the part affecting the whole, and so forth, we may go on to the magical results produced by the aid of spirits. These may be either spirits of the dead or spiritual essences that never animated mortal men. Savage magic or science rests partly on the belief that the world is peopled by a ”choir invisible,” or rather by a choir only occasionally visible to certain gifted people, sorcerers and diviners.
An enormous amount of evidence to prove the existence of these tenets has been collected by Mr. Tylor, and is accessible to all in the chapters on ”Animism” in his Primitive Culture. It is not our business here to account for the universality of the belief in spirits. Mr.
Tylor, following Lucretius and Homer, derives the belief from the reasonings of early men on the phenomena of dreams, fainting, shadows, visions caused by narcotics, hallucinations, and other facts which suggest the hypothesis of a separable life apart from the bodily organism. It would scarcely be fair not to add that the kind of ”facts”
investigated by the Psychical Society--such ”facts” as the appearance of men at the moment of death in places remote from the scene of their decease, with such real or delusive experiences as the noises and visions in haunted houses--are familiar to savages. Without discussing these obscure matters, it may be said that they influence the thoughts even of some scientifically trained and civilised men. It is natural, therefore, that they should strongly sway the credulous imagination of backward races, in which they originate or confirm the belief that life can exist and manifest itself after the death of the body.(1)
(1) See the author's Making of Religion, 1898.
Some examples of savage ”ghost-stories,” precisely a.n.a.logous to the ”facts” of the Psychical Society's investigations, may be adduced. The first is curious because it offers among the Kanekas an example of a belief current in Breton folk-lore. The story is vouched for by Mr. J.
J. Atkinson, late of Noumea, New Caledonia. Mr. Atkinson, we have reason to believe, was unacquainted with the Breton parallel. To him one day a Kaneka of his acquaintance paid a visit, and seemed loth to go away. He took leave, returned, and took leave again, till Mr. Atkinson asked him the reason of his behaviour. He then explained that he was about to die, and would never see his English friend again. As he seemed in perfect health, Mr. Atkinson rallied him on his hypochondria; but the poor fellow replied that his fate was sealed. He had lately met in the wood one whom he took for the Kaneka girl of his heart; but he became aware too late that she was no mortal woman, but a wood-spirit in the guise of the beloved. The result would be his death within three days, and, as a matter of fact, he died. This is the groundwork of the old Breton ballad of Le Sieur Nan, who dies after his intrigue with the forest spectre.(1) A tale more like a common modern ghost-story is vouched for by Mr. C.
J. Du Ve, in Australia. In the year 1860, a Maneroo black fellow died in the service of Mr. Du Ve. ”The day before he died, having been ill some time, he said that in the night his father, his father's friend, and a female spirit he could not recognise, had come to him and said that he would die next day, and that they would wait for him. Mr. Du Ye adds that, though previously the Christian belief had been explained to this man, it had entirely faded, and that he had gone back to the belief of his childhood.” Mr. Fison, who prints this tale in his Kamilaroi and Kurnai,(2) adds, ”I could give many similar instances which have come within my own knowledge among the Fijians, and, strange to say, the dying man in all these cases kept his appointment with the ghosts to the very day”.
(1) It may, of course, be conjectured that the French introduced this belief into New Caledonia.
(2) Page 247.
In the Cruise of the Beagle is a parallel anecdote of a Fuegian, Jimmy b.u.t.ton, and his father's ghost.
Without entering into a discussion of ghosts, it is plain that the kind of evidence, whatever its value may be, which convinces many educated Europeans of the existence of ”veridical” apparitions has also played its part in the philosophy of uncivilised races. On this belief in apparitions, then, is based the power of the savage sorcerers and necromants, of the men who converse with the dead and are aided by disembodied spirits. These men have greatly influenced the beginnings of mythology. Among certain Australian tribes the necromants are called Birraark.(1) ”The Kurnai tell me,” says Mr. Howitt, ”that a Birraark was supposed to be initiated by the 'Mrarts (ghosts) when they met him wandering in the bush.... It was from the ghosts that he obtained replies to questions concerning events pa.s.sing at a distance or yet to happen, which might be of interest or moment to his tribe.” Mr. Howitt prints an account of a spiritual seance in the bush.(2) ”The fires were let go down. The Birraark uttered a cry 'coo-ee' at intervals. At length a distant reply was heard, and shortly afterwards the sound as of persons jumping on the ground in succession. A voice was then heard in the gloom asking in a strange intonation, 'What is wanted?' Questions were put by the Birraark and replies given. At the termination of the seance, the spirit-voice said, 'We are going'. Finally, the Birraark was found in the top of an almost inaccessible tree, apparently asleep.”(3) There was one Birraark at least to every clan. The Kurnai gave the name of ”Brewin” (a powerful evil spirit) to a Birraark who was once carried away for several days by the Mrarts or spirits.(4) It is a belief with the Australians, as, according to Bosman, it was with the people of the Gold Coast, that a very powerful wizard lives far inland, and the Negroes held that to this warlock the spirits of the dead went to be judged according to the merit of their actions in life. Here we have a doctrine answering to the Greek belief in ”the wizard Minos,” Aeacus, and Rhadamanthus, and to the Egyptian idea of Osiris as judge of the departed.(5) The pretensions of the sorcerer to converse with the dead are attested by Mr. Brough Smyth.(6) ”A sorcerer lying on his stomach spoke to the deceased, and the other sitting by his side received the precious messages which the dead man told.” As a natural result of these beliefs, the Australian necromant has great power in the tribe. Mr.
Howitt mentions a case in which a group of kindred, ceasing to use their old totemistic surname, called themselves the children of a famous dead Birraark, who thus became an eponymous hero, like Ion among the Ionians.(7) Among the Scotch Highlanders the position and practice of the seer were very like those of the Birraark. ”A person,” says Scott,(8) ”was wrapped up in the skin of a newly slain bullock and deposited beside a waterfall or at the bottom of a precipice, or in some other strange, wild and unusual situation, where the scenery around him suggested nothing but objects of horror. In this situation he revolved in his mind the question proposed and whatever was impressed on him by his exalted imagination Pa.s.sED FOR THE INSPIRATION OF THE DISEMBODIED SPIRITS who haunt these desolate recesses.” A number of examples are given in Martin's Description of the Western Islands.(9) In the Century magazine (July, 1882) is a very full report of Thlinkeet medicine-men and metamorphoses.
(1) Kamilaroi and Kurnai, p. 253.