Chapter VI: Appendix: 351 (3)

The said reign of Antichrist will only last to the death of him who was born near the [commencement] of the century, and of the other in the city of Plancus [Lyons], accompanied by him the elect of Modena, Fulcy by Ferara, upheld by the Adriatic Piedmontese, and the proximity of the great Trinacria [Sicily]. Afterwards the Gallic Ogmion shall pass the Mount Jovis [Barcelona], accompanied by so great a number that from afar the Empire shall be presented with its grand law, and then and for some time after shall be profusely shed the blood of the innocent by the guilty recently elevated to power. Then by great deluges the memory of things contained in such instruments shall suffer incalculable loss, even to the Alphabet itself. This will happen among the Northerns. By the Divine Will once again Satan will be bound, and universal peace established amongst mankind, and the Church of Jesus Christ delivered from all tribulation, although the Azostains [debauched voluptuaries] would desire to mix with the honey the gall of their pestilent seduction. This will be near the seventh millenary, when the sanctuary of Jesus Christ will no longer be trodden down by the infidels who come from the North; the world [will be then] approaching its great conflagration, although by my supputation in my prophecies, the course of time runs much farther on.

In the epistle that some years since I dedicated to my son Cæsar Nostradamus, I have openly enough declared some points without presage. But here, Sire, are comprised many great and marvellous events to come, which those who follow after us shall see. And during the said astrological supputation, harmonized with the sacred Scriptures, the persecution of the Ecclesiastics shall take its rise in the power of the kings of the North, united with the Easterns. And this persecution shall last eleven years, or somewhat less, by which time the chief Northern king shall pass away, which years being run, a united Southern king shall succeed, which shall still more fiercely persecute the clergy of the Church for the space of three years by the Apostolical seduction of one who will take away all the absolute power from the Church Militant, and holy people of God who observe its ritual, and the whole order of religion shall be greatly persecuted and so afflicted that the blood of true ecclesiastics shall float everywhere. To one of those horrible temporal kings such praise shall be given by his adherents that he will have shed more human blood of innocent ecclesiastics, than any could do of wine. This king will commit crimes against the Church that are incredible. Human blood will flow in the public streets and churches, like water after impetuous rain, and will crimson with blood the neighbouring rivers, and by another naval war redden the sea to such a degree that one king shall say to another, “_Bellis rubuit navalibus æquor._”[41] Then in the same year and those following there will ensue the most horrible pestilence and the most astonishing on account of the famine that will precede, and such tribulation that nothing approaching it ever happened since the first foundation of the Christian Church; this also throughout all the Latin regions, leaving traces in all the countries under the rule of Spain.

Then the third King of the North [Russia?], hearing the complaint of the people from [whom he derives] his principal title, will raise up a mighty army, and pass through the limits [_destroits_] of his last progenitors and great-grandfathers, to him who will [_qui_ for _lui qui_] replace almost everything in its old condition. The great Vicar of the Cope shall be put back to his pristine state; but, desolated and abandoned by all, will return to the sanctuary [that was] destroyed by Paganism, when the Old and New Testament will be thrust out and burnt. After that Antichrist will be the infernal prince. Then at this last epoch, all the kingdoms of Christianity, as well as of the infidel world, will be shaken during the space of twenty-five years, and the wars and battles will be more grievous, and the towns, cities, castles, and all other edifices will be burnt, desolated, and destroyed with much effusion of vestal blood, married women and widows violated, sucking children dashed and broken against the walls of towns; and so many evils will be committed by means of Satan, the prince infernal, that nearly all the world will become undone and desolated. Before the events occur certain strange birds [imperial eagles] will cry in the air, “_To-day! to-day!_” and after a given time will disappear [June, 1815]. After this has endured for a certain length of time [twenty-five years he has said before, 1790 to 1815], there will be almost renewed another reign of Saturn, the age of gold [this might be the discovery of California, but for what follows]. God the Creator shall say, hearing the affliction of His people, Satan shall be precipitated and bound in the bottomless abyss, and then shall commence between God and men a universal peace. There he shall abide for the space of a thousand years, and shall turn his greatest force against the power of the Church, and shall then be bound again.

How justly are all these figures adapted by the divine letters to visible celestial things, that is to say, by Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars, and others in conjunction with them, as may be seen more at large by some of the quatrains! I would have calculated it more deeply, and adapted the one to the other; but, seeing, O most serene King, that some who are given to censure will raise a difficulty, I shall take the opportunity to retire my pen and seek my nocturnal repose. “_Multa etiam, O Rex potentissime præclara, et sane in brevi ventura, sed omnia in hâc tuâ Epistola, innectere non possumus, nec volumus, sed ad intellegenda quædam facta, horrida fata pauca libanda sunt, quamvis tanta sit in omnes tua amplitudo et humanitas homines, deosque pietas, ut solos amplissimo et Christianissimo Regis nomine, et ad quem summa totius religionis auctoritas deferatur dignus esse videare._”[42] But I shall only beseech you, O most clement King, by this your singular and most prudent goodness, to understand rather the desire of my heart, and the sovereign wish I have to obey your most excellent Majesty, ever since my eyes approached so nearly to your solar splendour, than the grandeur of my work can attain to or acquire.

_Faciebat_ MICHAEL NOSTRADAMUS.
_Solonæ Petræ Provincæ._

From Salon this 27th June, 1558.

MAGIC.

Before we enter upon the historical application of those quatrains which admit of interpretation, it will be well to devote a little attention to the views of magic entertained by Nostradamus, to learn from his own mouth what class of readers he proposed to address, and to gather, as far as we may be able, in what manner he proceeded to cultivate the spirit of prophecy and the divine gift with which he thought himself to be endowed. Were he even as certainly an impostor as Cagliostro, this inquiry would have an interest of its own attaching to it; but if we can for a moment suppose that he genuinely believed himself to be endowed with a faculty of divination, the investigation of that assumption on his part would present a considerable psychological interest merely as a human phenomenon. On the other hand, if he were a man truly gifted with forecast, I do not know that, in this age of scepticism as to things spiritual, anything more wholesome could be proposed to our contemplation than a prophetic record fulfilling itself before the eyes of disbelievers and gainsayers; who, wishing to scoff and desiring to suppress such things, find themselves utterly powerless to annul the harmony between the vision recorded three hundred years ago and the event of yesterday. Whether such things are or not, it will be for the reader, when he has gone through the book, to say. At present we will only busy ourselves with what Nostradamus says of himself. He is a notability and worthy of criticism, be the final verdict for or against him.

At the end of Century VI. occur four Latin lines headed—

LEGIS CANTIO CONTRA INEPTOS CRITICOS. [I. 51.]

Qui legent hosce versus maturè censunto,
Profanum vulgus et inscium ne attrectato,
Omnesque Astrologi, Blenni, Barbari procul sunto.
Qui aliter facit, is ritè sacer esto.

The sense of these lines is much clearer than the prosody, but that matters little.

_Translation._

AN INCANTATION IN ARREST OF INEPT CRITICS.

Let those who read these verses meditate them seriously!
Let the profane and ignorant vulgar not handle them! Let
astrologers, fools, and savages stand off! Who acts contrary to
this, let him be cursed according to the rites of magic.

We now come to the magic formula.

_Century I.—Quatrain 1._ [I. 52.]

Estant assis de nuict secret estude,
Seul, reposé sur la sele[43] d’airain,
Flambe exigue sortant de solitude,
Fait prospèrer[44] qui[45] n’est à croire vain.

_Translation._

Gathered at night in study deep I sate,
Alone, upon the tripod stool of brass,
Exiguous flame came out of solitude,
Promise of magic that may be believed.

Being seated at night and wrapt in secret study, entirely
alone, I placed myself on the brazen tripod of prophecy. A
still small flame came forth of solitude, helping me to realize
successfully what it will not prove vain to have believed.

The reader will here refer to the “Préface à mon fils,” p. 48.

“L’entendement créé intellectuellement ne peut voir
occultement, sinon par la voix faicte au lymbe moyennant
la exigue flame, en laquelle partie les causes futures se
viendront à incliner.”

This passage conveys in prose what the last and the following quatrain conveys in verse.

THE MAGICAL CALL BY WATER. [I. 53.]

_Century I.—Quatrain 1._

La verge[46] en main mise au milieu de BRANCHES,
De l’Onde il mouille et le limbe,[47] et le pied:
Un peur et voix fremissent par[48] les manches;
Splendeur divine, Le Divin prés s’assied.

_Translation._

The rod in hand set in the midst of the Branches,
He moistens with water both the fringe and foot;
Fear and a voice make me quake in my sleeves;
Splendour divine, the God is seated near.

To make this entirely clear is almost impossible. But what we _can_ get at is very curious, showing as it does, if nothing else, that the border-land of the unseen world was actually contiguous with that of the world of Nostradamus. They even overlapped, in his estimation, so as to form an intermediate neutral territory like the marches in the North, where the inhabitants of each district could meet and communicate. We are positive that this is all illusive, superstitious, demoniacal. It may be so. But one effect it undeniably produces. It unites man more to the universe, and less to the world; it makes death less strange and less cold, and furnishes to the soul, and the things of the soul, more nutriment than it can extract from modern life and culture.

The general meaning seems to be that he sat with a wand, branch, or divining-rod of laurel, probably forked like the winchel rod of the water-finders, one fork being held in each hand. This in some way had power to evoke his Genius (or _génie familier_, as Le Pelletier styles it). When he appeared, he moistened in the brazier that held water, himself, the fringe of his robe (_limbe_), and his foot. The rod, held as I have suggested, then becoming electrical, caused fear with the sound of a voice and a shuddering up to the elbows. Then shone forth the fatidical splendour of a divine light, and the Deity is present, seated near to him.

M. le Pelletier tells us that there was a pagan rite of the god Branchus that corresponded with this fatidical ceremony practised by Nostradamus. He even suggests that this very Branchus might have been the familiar spirit of our prophet. It must be admitted that in the _texte-type_, in the words “_au milieu de_ BRANCHES,” _Branches_ is printed in capital letters, so that the probable reason for that peculiarity is that the God _Branchus_, as well as the _branches d’un laurier_, is shadowed forth. But to suppose that a pagan deity could ever be either the familiar or the guardian angel of a son of the Church of Rome makes such a Renaissance-jumble of the two religions that I think we had better not meddle with it.

As to the assertion that there was a pagan rite of Branchus, I doubt it much; and, if there were, certain it is that Nostradamus speaks here far too covertly for us to assume from his writing that he was discharging any rite special to Branchus. He seems to be following out the usual magical forms employed for establishing vaticinatory connection with the other world, or setting up the counter analogy between mind and spirit, according to that beautiful esoteric verse in Ecclesiasticus (xlvii. 24), “All things are double, one against another; He hath made nothing imperfect.” Were such things never to interlink, men might well say, as they do now in the wisdom of science, that spirit and intellect are not doubles, and that no knowledge can be reached save by physical experiment. In this case there will be a particular link missing if science be right. The sage, _Estant assis de nuict secret estude_, will earnestly desire such assumption may prove to be erroneous. He will readily formulate with St. Paul that the invisible things from creation may be known from the visible; but also that the visible things can never be understood but by the invisible. Recollect that the visible is not visible to the visible, but to the invisible alone. The eye is the machine of sight, but not sight; and who has seen the eye of the eye?

The Greek myth about Branchus, so far as I can see, is this, with sundry forms and variations. He was a youth of Miletus. The reputed son of Smicrus (_Lempriere_), or Macareus Varro says, but begotten by Apollo. The mother dreamed that the sun entered her mouth, and, passing through her, the child at birth was named _Branchus_, or βρόγχος, the throat. Afterwards he kissed Apollo in the woods, and became endowed with the gift of prophecy. He had a temple at Didyma, which Pausanias calls the Temple of Apollo; but Varro goes on to say that after the kiss of the god he prophesied, but quickly after disappeared, when a grand temple was jointly dedicated to him and to Apollo,—_Philesius_, from φιλεῖν, to kiss. His oracles at Didyma were inferior to none but Delphi. The name Didymean, _double_ or _twain_, was from the double light of the sun and its reflection in the moonlight. Sun-touched and moon-struck madness and inspiration may in Branchus be said to meet, as out of one throat come things good and evil. The name Didymean was changed to Branchidæ Strabo (Book xiv.) relates that the priests of this grand temple betrayed its treasures to Xerxes, and accompanied him in his retreat to escape the punishment of their sacrilege. They had settled near to Sogdiana, when Alexander arrived there (Strabo, Book xi.); he destroyed them and their city. This Byronical madman, who could see no iniquity in the slaughter of thousands to gratify the lust of a crack-brained ambition, thought to promote morals by slaughtering the descendants of traitors, they, the descendants, being innocent of everything except being born. The Milesians had long ago rebuilt the temple of Branchus on such a scale that in magnitude it surpassed all others in Greece. It was, in fact, too big to be roofed in, being four or five stadia in compass. Those who wish to see more can consult Suidas, s. v., βραγχίδαι.

The gloss of M. le Pelletier on the quatrain is as follows: that Nostradamus, wand in hand, touches the branches of the tripod, like the priests of Branchus (this I have tried to expunge), and invokes his familiar spirit, which appears to him in the vapour floating above a basin of water, which he had consecrated beforehand according to prescribed magical rites, and in which he dips the fringe of his garment, and his feet. An involuntary shivering (_peur_) agitates his hand when about to write from the dictation (_voix_) of the spirit. The fatidical light shines, and the angel is seated at his side. Le Pelletier takes occasion here to remark that mediums at this day write under a spirit of dictation, to which they simply lend their arm as an instrument.

Garencières’ interpretation is that of most of the old commentators, even down to the time of M. Bareste, 1840. The rod is a pen, in the middle of the branches means his fingers, the water is the ink, and wetting limb and foot is covering the paper all but the four margins. It is hardly unfair to say that this is both nonsensical and ignorant, although not devoid of ingenuity. I think it will fit the circumstances far better to take it, as I have done, that the wand was a forked laurel branch that dipped forcibly, like the winchel rod, when Nostradamus held it over the water, that it strained, as the hazel-rod does, almost to breaking; and that at this invitation it is to be supposed that the spirit appears. The incantation being completed and successful, the operator must be supposed to set aside the winchel, and assume the pen, quaking with a solemn sense of the spiritual presence. This fear was, Garencières says, to prevent the puffing up of pride, as we read in Daniel, John, and the 4th of Esdras.

Readers who take no interest in this, and are consequently weary by this time of the length we have run into in the investigation, will leap over what follows to get to the next quatrain.

M. le Pelletier refers to Ficinus’ translation of Jamblicus’ “De Mysteriis Ægyptiorum,” 1607. He gives the Latin and French. I will merely introduce here the English translation, as the book is of easy reference to those who wish to examine further for themselves the sources which Nostradamus had consulted, and from which he drew his summary exposition.

“The sibyl at Delphi received the god in two forms,—either by a
subtle and fiery spirit, which burst forth upon any one through
the crevice of some cavern, or else sitting on a brazen seat of
four or three feet in the inner shrine, dedicated to the god,
and where she was exposed on two sides to the divine influx,
whence she was irradiate with a divine light” (p. 66).

“Now, the prophetess of Branchus either sits upon a pillar, or
holds in her hand a rod bestowed by some deity, or moistens
her feet or the hem of her garment with water, or inhales the
vapour of water, and by these means is filled with divine
illumination, and, having obtained the deity, she prophesies.
By these practices she adapts herself to the god, whom she
receives from without” (p. 67).

“Porphyrius says that the art [or magic] is not to be despised
which, out of certain vapours due to fire under favourable
stellar influences, forms the images of gods spontaneously
appearing in the air, in a certain degree like the gods
themselves, and possessing a very similar efficacy” (p. 91).

“For amongst the demons there is one who is chief, and who
exercises influence at the moment of birth, and apportions to
each his demon (or familiar). After this there is present to
each one his own guardian, that develops a _cultus_ congruous
to his nature, and teaches him both his name and the most
suitable form of invocation (to bring him when required), and
this method is most congenial to the demons” (p. 171).

These forms of Jamblicus are analogous to those employed by Nostradamus; but there the person prophesying wets the feet and fingers, whilst according to our version of the quatrains it is the demon or spirit applies them to himself: _Le Divin près s’assied_. In Jamblicus the one who prophesies becomes possessed by entry of the spirit. Nostradamus describes an external and visible presence which corresponds to Porphyrius’ account of _deorum idola in aere_.

CORPOREAL DEMONS. [I. 59.]

_Century I.—Quatrain 42._

La dix Calendes d’Avril de faict gotique
Resuscité encor par gens malins:
Le feu estainct, assemblée diabolique
Cherchant les os du Damant et Pselin.[49]

_Translation._

The 10th of the Calends of April Gothic computation have
been again put in practice by sorcerers (_gens malins_). The
lights put out, the diabolic assembly searching for the Demon
[_Damant_ for _Démon_] treated of by Michael Psellus.

The _texte-type_ is most corrupt in this quatrain; for _Damant et Pselin_ read _Démon e or ex Pselin_, the demon as treated of by Psellus.

The scholium of M. le Pelletier on this is—The magical incantations, which were successful formerly when wrought on the night of Good Friday, were re-introduced into practice by sorcerers of skill on the 10th Calend of April according to the ancient computation (_de faict gotique_). In a note added he professes that the 10th Calend Old Style would be the last day of March by the Gregorian, and he thinks it probable, that Nostradamus here designates some particular year, when Good Friday fell on the 31st of March. Garencières upon this notes that it falls on the 23rd of March, called Gothic, because adhered to by the northern nations long after the Gregorian had been adopted at Rome. I do not see how the 10th Calend could ever fall on the 31st, nor indeed what the 31st has to do with the matter. Those who are more familiar with such calculations may perhaps explain. Like the witches’ sabbath, these diabolic meetings were accompanied by the lewdest rites, as will at once be seen by the following passage from Psellus, which I leave untranslated. It is from the Latin translation of Psellus by Marsilius Ficinus, and will be found in his collected works (ii. 884) in folio ed. 1641.

“Euchetæ et gnosci, ut dæmonia toto concipiant pectore,
nefanda sacrificia perpetrant. Conveniunt die quo passus est
Salvator,[50] vespere, statutum in locum, unà cum puellis sibi
notis, et post quædam sacra extinctis luminibus,[51] mistim
coëunt, sive cum sorore, sive cum filiâ, sive cum quâlibet”
(_Psellus_ as above, p. 884).

“There is a further kind of vaticination by a basin, by means
of which rustics frequently predict. Just as there is a mode
of predicting by means of the air and the leaves of trees, so
there is a kind of predictive power in the basin, known and
practised by the Assyrians, which has a great similarity to
this incarnation or coupling of demons with matter. Thus those
about to prophesy take a basin full of water, which attracts
the spirits moving stealthily in the depths (_dæmonibus
congruentem in profunda repentibus._) Le Pelletier translates
this, _approprié à l’usage des démons cachés au fond des eaux_.
The basin then, full of water, seems in sort to breathe (or
move) as with sounds (_s’il allait émettre des sons_); it
seems to me that the water was agitated with circular ripples,
as from some sound emitted below. Now, this water diffused
through the basin differs but little in kind from water out of
the basin, but yet it much excels it from a virtue imparted to
it by the charms [that have been droned over it], and which
have rendered it more apt to receive the spirit of prophecy.
For this description of spirit is tetchy and terrene, and
much under the influence of composite spells. When the water
begins to lend itself as the vehicle of sound, he [the spirit]
also presently gives out a thin reedy note [of satisfaction],
but devoid of meaning; and close upon that, whilst the water
is undulating, certain weak and peeping sounds whisper forth
predictions of the future. A spirit of this kind is vagrant
everywhere, for he is endowed with the solar pass [so that our
terrestrial atmosphere lies everywhere open to him], and that
order of spirits, in the work appointed to it, speaks at all
times with a subdued voice, that by its indistinct obscurity
it may be less easy to seize the falsehoods that it utters”
(Psellus as above, p. 885).

From the mode in which Psellus describes the matter in hand, it is very perceptible that he was no great conjuror, and was merely speaking upon hearsay and report. If lies were the business of the spirit, he would be no prophet. Again, if he wished to circulate lies, he must still make things clear enough to his votaries for them to circulate them and work mischief thereby. Are we to suppose that, like an abandoned human being, he had some sense of shame left still, and, like Lord John Russell, would only tell as few lies as possible? Psellus’s demon is so foolish that he would soon have been without any one to consult his shrine. He could not have given a reason for his own conduct, in the past or present, and was the last being that any one would resort to to anticipate intelligence of the future. Still the procedure might have been somewhat as Psellus describes it, although the reasons could not.

An historian of the fourth century, and a man of veracity, Marcellinus has given us curious details of how prophetical tripods were considered by the Romans in his day. It comes out quite naturally in the judicial proofs investigating a conspiracy against the life of Valens the Emperor; what we should call a state trial. The conspirators were put to the torture, and as an item in the indictment the figure of a little table becomes prominent, as to which the accused were questioned by the judges. At last one of them, Hillarius, broken by pain, revealed the secret in these words:

“Honoured judges, we constructed this unfortunate little
table that you see here after the fashion of the tripod
[or, more strictly, the cauldron[52]] at Delphi, with dark
incantations, out of branches of laurel; and with imprecations
of secret song, and numerous ceremonies repeated over daily,
we consecrated it by magic rites, till at last we put it in
motion. When it reached this capacity of movement, as often as
we wished to interrogate it by secret inquiry, we proceeded
thus.

“It was placed in the middle of a room (_in medio domûs_)
purified throughout by Arabian perfumes; a round dish was
simply laid upon it, formed of a composite material of many
metals. On the phlange of its outer round were skilfully
engraved the scriptile forms of the alphabet separated into
as many exactly measured spaces. Over this basin (or dish)
a man stood clothed in linen garments and shod with linen
socks, his head bound round with a turban-like tuft of hair,
and bearing a rod of vervain, the prospering plant. After
we had favourably conciliated the deity, who is the giver
of all presage, with duly formulated charms and ceremonial
knowledge, he communicated a gentle movement to a ring that
hung suspended over the basin.... This was tied up by an
exceedingly fine Carpathian thread, which had been initiated
with mystical observances. This ring, moving by little leaps
or jumps, so as to alight upon the distinct intervals with the
separate letters inscribed, each in its compartment to itself,
gives out in heroic verse answers suitable to the inquiries
made, comprehended perfectly in number and measure; such as
are called Pythic, or those delivered by the oracles of the
Branchidæ.

“To us inquiring who should succeed to the present empire,
because it had been already mentioned that it would be one
entirely suitable [to our aim and purpose], the leaping ring
had glanced upon the two syllables THEO. With the last addition
of a letter [that is, D], a man present exclaimed, ‘THEODORUM,’
the fatal necessity of the portent indicating as much.
Nothing further was sought upon this head; for it was agreed
amongst us that this was the individual we wanted” (_Ammianus
Marcellinus_, Rerum Gestarum, xxix. 1).

In this case the ambiguity of the oracle is due to the precipitance of the inquirers. The oracle was true as far as they allowed it to proceed, but had they waited to spell it out they would have learned that the name was not THEOD_orus_, but THEOD_osius_ the Great, who was to be the successor to Valens.

This is an authentic passage of high interest. It shows considerable analogy with the table-turning of the moderns; it also gives insight into singular and elaborate processes of divination by magic as being frequently practised at Rome in the fourth century. Clearly the Pagans had no notion in that century that oracles had at all finally ceased on a Good Friday in the first century, or that Pan, the god of rumour, was dead. The sun still shone to them as the Apollo of prophecy, and they still sought presage of a spirit who was made free of the solar order (_qui solarem ordinem est sortitus_).

HISTORICAL FRAGMENTS.

I shall now give a few detached historical fragments that relate to France, commencing with the Peace of Cateau-Cambresis, 1559, and running down to the death of Louis XV., 1774, in chronological order, just as M. le Pelletier has found the counterpart to lie embedded in the quatrains of Nostradamus, in a fashion seemingly interpretable to him. This, for any but French readers, will probably be sufficient to indicate the style and value of the presages enveloped in the strange and fatidical diction of the quatrains. I doubt not but that, by original research instituted and by careful re-reading of the text throughout, a good many more of the mysterious stanzas might be unravelled and elucidated; also by collation of all that has been written by commentators on our author, a good deal of light might be thrown upon what they have done, even where their own interpretation has fallen short of clearness. All that my book purposes to accomplish is,—at least for England,—to establish, without doubt, and at once, for all future time, that Nostradamus is no impostor, but, when rightly understood and unlocked, a very wonderful anticipator of events to happen hereafter; and, farther than this, that his works are, to all intents and purposes, the most startling oracles ever put on paper by mortal man not professing divine inspiration. From immemorial time instances of human prescience have occasionally been manifested. The whole human race has an ardent and ingrain desire to search into and anticipate futurity. Very few individuals, however, have from time to time been able to gratify and keep alive their passion in this respect. But no one has done so in a degree that at all sets him on a par with Nostradamus in the felicitous and reiterated coruscations whereby he has anticipated the more prominent points and epochs of time Future; and sometimes in minuteness he even mentions by name some individual who emerges though it be but for an instant from the general obscurity of his life.

THE PEACE OF CATEAU-CAMBRESIS (APRIL 3, 1559). [I. 71.]

_Century IX.—Quatrain 52._

La paix s’approche d’un costé, et la guerre
Oncques[53] ne fut la poursuitte si grande:
Plaindre hômes, femmes, sang innocent par terre,
Et ce sera de France a[54] toute bande.

_Translation._

Peace approaches on one side, and [as to] war
Never was the pursuit of it so great:
Men and women [have cause] to weep innocent blood on earth;
All through France it shall be from end to end.

The peace was that concluded with Spain at Cateau-Cambresis, whilst the war, carried on with such hot pursuit, was the civil conflict that raged between Romanist and Calvinist. This it was made men and women lament the blood spilt upon the earth in all parts of France, from north to south.

DEATH OF HENRI II. (JULY 10, 1559). [I. 72.]

_Century I.—Quatrain 35._

Le lyon jeune le vieux surmontera
En champ bellique par singulier duelle:
Dans cage d’or[55] les yeux lui crevera,
Deux classes[56] une,[57] puis mourir, mort cruelle.

_Translation._

The young lion shall overcome the old
On the field of war in single combat [duelle];
He will pierce his eyes in a cage of gold.
This is the first of two loppings, then he dies a cruel death.

Montgomery, who at the moment of the narrative bore the name of Captain Coryes (Garencières, p. 25), afterwards became Earl of Montgomery, overthrew Henri II. (_le vieux lion_) in the tournay-lists or duel, and pierced him above the eye through the gilt visor of his helmet. This is the first of the two blows that will destroy the dynastic tree of the house of Valois. Henri II., wounded mortally, shall be the first to die a violent death; whilst his son, Henri III., will be the second, who fell by the hand of Jacques Clément.

August 1. 1589.

This is a very celebrated quatrain. It is found in the earliest edition of the quatrains published at Lyons in 1555, containing merely 300 quatrains. It lifted Nostradamus into celebrity at once. He had applied it to Henri II. several years before it happened, and had even announced it as a prediction to the King himself. He was well known to Henri II., to whom he dedicated the last three Centuries, in a long and curious epistle, which we have already given in full. The King seems to have had infinite confidence in Nostradamus, for he let him draw the royal horoscope, as well as that of his two children, in 1556.

The story of this is curious, as given by Guynaud in his “Concordance des Prophéties de Nostradamus,” 1712,[58] pp. 86-91. Henri II., it would seem, proclaimed a tournament in the Rue St. Antoine, the site of the Bastille, then in the country, for July 1, 1559, in honour of the marriage of his daughter Elizabeth of France with Philip II. of Spain. He listed himself as one against all comers. The joust being nearly over and the sun setting, the Duc de Savoie begged him to quit the running, as his side was already victorious; but the King wanted to break another lance over it, and commanded the young Comte de Montgommeri, captain of his Scotch Guard, to run a tilt in conclusion. He excused himself, but the King insisted and grew angry. Of course the young man then obeyed, put spurs to his horse, and struck the King upon the throat, below the vizor. His lance shivered, and the butt raising the vizor, a splinter wounded the King above the right eye, cutting several of the veins of the _pia mater_. The King swooned. He lived on, however, for ten days in terrible agony, as foretold in the prophecy, _Deux classes une, puis mourir, mort cruelle_. Nostradamus styles both of them lions, as they both fought under that device. The King wore a gilt helmet, so that the _cage d’or_ was literally fulfilled.

The strange part is that another astrologer, named Luc Gauric, had once been visited by the King in company with two other gentlemen, to whom he feigned to give precedence; but the astrologer, perhaps knowing him, insisted on addressing him first, and told him he would die in a duel. He also prophesied a violent death to the King’s companions, and managed to displease the whole trio. The King said of this, “We are making peace now with the King of Spain, so it is not very likely that I shall challenge him, and as a king I could in no other way be challenged, whatever may be the fate of the other gentlemen.” Guynaud quotes this story from the Princesse de Clèves, who, in the second volume of her writings, represents the Court as discussing the credibility of astrologers, the prevalent opinion apparently being rather strong against them. Still, we know that Henri II. greatly honoured Nostradamus. Prophetic warning is evidently futile, for the King had two separate warnings and heeded neither.

PRINCESSE DE CLÈVES. [II. 145.]

Quelques jours après, le Roy étoit chez la Reine à l’heur du
Cercle; l’on parla des Horoscopes et des prédictions. Les
opinions étaient partagées sur la croyance que l’on y devoit
donner. La Reine y ajoûtait beaucoup de foi; elle soûtint
qu’après tant de choses qui avaient été prédites, et que l’on
avait vu arriver, on ne pouvait douter qu’il n’eut quelque
certitude dans cette science. D’autres soûtenaient, que parmi
ce nombre infini de prédictions, le peu qui se trouvaient
veritables, faisait bien voir que se n’etait qu’un effet du
hazard.

“J’ai eu autrefois beaucoup de curiosité pour l’avenir,” dit
le Roy; “mais on m’a dit tant de choses fausses et si peu
vraisemblables que je suis demuré convaincu que l’on ne peut
rien savoir de véritable. Il y a quelques années qu’il devint
ici un homme d’une grande reputation dans l’Astrologie. Tout le
monde l’alla voir, j’y allai comme les autres, mais sans lui
dire qui j’étais, et je menai Monsieur de Guise et Descars, je
les fit passer le premier. L’Astrologue neanmoins s’addressa
d’abord à moi, comme s’il m’eut jugé le maitre des autres:
Peut-être qu’il me connaissait; cependant il me dit une chose
qui ne me convenait pas, s’il m’eut connu. Il me predit que
je serai tué en duel. Il dit ensuite à Monsieur de Guise,
qu’il serait tué par derrière, et à Descars, qu’il aurait la
tête cassée d’un coup de pied de cheval. Monsieur de Guise
s’offensa quasi de cette prédiction, comme si l’on eut accusé
de devoir fuir. Descars ne fut guerre satisfait de trouver
qu’il devait finir par un accident si malheureux. Enfin nous
sortimes tous très malcontents de l’astrologue. Je ne scais
ce qui arrivera à Monsieur de Guise et à Descars, mais il n’y
a guerre d’apparence que je sois tué en duel. Nous venons de
faire la paix le Roy d’Espagne et moi, quand nous ne l’aurions
pas faite, je doute que nous nous battions, et que je le fisse
appeller comme le Roy mon père fit rappeller Charles Quint.”

The story, as told by the Princesse de Clèves, is fuller than I have given it, but does not correspond at all with the version given to Lord Bacon when in France, as told to him by Dr. Penn, who said (Bacon’s “Essay on Prophecies”) that the queen-mother, Catherine de Medici, was given to curious arts, and caused the King’s nativity to be cast under a false name. The astrologer adjudged that he should be killed in a duel. The queen laughed, supposing her husband to be above challenges to duel; “but he was slain upon a course at tilt, the splinters of the staff of Montgomery going in at his beaver.” History, in events large or small, hath so many variants that any man, whose view of things is a little sinister, may well be allowed to say all history is a variant of truth, and all that is sure in it is that it cannot be relied upon at all. In this case the astrologers were right, spite of the odds against them.

ARREST OF MONTGOMERY (MAY 27, 1574). [I. 73.]

_Century III.—Quatrain 30._

Celuy qu’en[59] luitte[60] et fer au faict bellique
Aura porté[61] plus grand qui luy le prix,
De nuict au lict six luy feront la pique,
Nud, sans harnois, subit[62] sera surprins.[63]

_Translation._

To him who in strife and armour in the warlike field
Shall have carried away the prize from one greater than himself.
By night in bed six men will stab him;
Unprotected he will be surprised naked and unarmed.

This means that Montgomery, who in joust (_au faict bellique_,—_bellique_, we are told, means an engagement on horseback) with lance in hand will have carried away the prize from Henri II. (_plus grand que luy_) will be suddenly surprised in bed at night, naked and unarmed, by six men, who will deliver him into the vengeful hands of Catherine de Medici.

Some say the dying King gave him free pardon; others report that he fled to England to save himself: but at any rate he came to England, and there embraced Protestantism. When he returned to France, he placed himself at the head of the revolted Huguenots in Normandy, and was besieged in Domfront by the Marshal de Matignon and a large force, to which he was obliged to surrender. The terms of the surrender guaranteed his life, but by express command of Catherine he was arrested in his own castle of Domfront on the night of May 27, 1574, by six gentlemen of the royal army, and carried to the Château of Caen, thence to the Conciergerie at Paris, and there immured, where the great tower still goes by his name.

THE REGENCY OF CATHERINE DE MEDICI (1559-1574). [I. 74.]

_Century VI.—Quatrain 63._

La Dame seule au regne demeurée,
D’unic esteint premier au lict d’honneur;
Sept ans sera de douleur esplorée,
Puis longue vie au regne par grand heur.

_Translation._

The lady shall remain to rule alone,
Her unique spouse dead, who was first in the field of honour.
She will weep for grief through seven long years,
And gifted with long life will reign long.

Catherine de Medici did not put off her weeds till August 1, 1566, seven years and a few days from the death of the King in July, 1559, on her return from a progress with her son Charles IX., in the course of which she had visited all the mutinous cities throughout the kingdom, with a view to satisfy them. She survived till the year 1589, and practically retained the whole power during the reigns of her two eldest sons, François II. and Charles IX., but she entirely lost it on the succession of Henri III.

The quatrain applies to no one so well as to Catherine de Medici; and, if it be allowed to be realized as to her person, there is no denying the singular exactitude of the prophecy. We have no evidence that the Queen applied the quatrain to herself, or that her contemporaries bore it in mind; but the second line is remarkable as assuming with reposeful confidence the previous death of the King as predicted. The third line is a startling example of the precision with which our prophet can mark out the duration of a period: seven years the Queen is to wear mourning, and she does so all the time she is travelling. The sceptical will say she did it to fulfil the prophecy; but it looks rather as if that had fallen quite out of remembrance, and as if it was due much more to policy, and for the purpose of creating sympathy, during her state tour, than to motives either of superstition or any singular attachment to her deceased husband. The quatrain is most unobtrusively worded, and yet so confidently assured and searching, that it seems to me, as if perfectly unbiassed and disinterested observers might take it as a kind of moral voucher for the simple integrity of its author. I merely draw attention to it so far, and every reader will form his own judgment upon the point. I hold myself aloof from theory; but this is how the particular fact we are upon impresses my mind, and probably it may affect many others in the same way.

EXTINCTION DES VALOIS (1559-1589). [I. 77.]

_Presage 40._

De maison sept par mort mortelle suite;
Gresle, tempeste, pestilent mal, fureurs:
Roi d’Orient, d’Occident tous en fuite,
Subjuguera ses jadis conquereurs.

_Translation._

The death of the house of seven by a suite of deaths,
Hail, tempest, pestilent evil, fury.
A king of the East will put all the West to flight,
And will subdue his at-one-time conquerors.

The house of Valois consisted of the seven children of Henri II. By the death of the fourth son, Henri III., in 1589, the whole of the seven were dead except Marguerite, who married Henri IV., so that the family may well be said to have died out by a suite of deaths (_mortelle suite_). Heresy was rampant (_pestilent mal_) and civil war. Soliman II., called the Magnificent, threatened all Christendom, and recovered all the Holy Places that the Crusaders had wrested from his predecessors.

CIVIL WAR (1575, 1576). [I. 78.]

_Century VI.—Quatrain 11._

Des septs rameaux à trois seront reduicts,
Les plus aisnés seront surprins[64] par mort,
Fratricider les deux seront seduicts,
Les conjurés en dormans seront morts.

_Translation._

The seven branches when they shall be reduced to three,
And the four eldest shall have been surprised by death,
The two (males) shall entertain fratricidal aims,
And the conspirators sleeping shall be reduced to death.

This means that, when the seven are become but three (_i.e._ the three youngest), Henri III. and the Duc d’Alençon will enter upon a fratricidal war. In 1575 Alençon escaped from the Court, where he was under surveillance, and put himself at the head of the Malcontents, who were in alliance with the Huguenots. He was successful, and forced the edict of pacification, May 14, 1576, upon his brother the King. Daniel, in his “History of France” under Henri III., shows that they mutually sought each other’s death by dagger and poison. The Guise (_les conjurés_) and the Leaguers will come by their deaths from indulging in a false security.

THE MURDER OF HENRI III. (1589). [I. 79.]

_Century V.—Quatrain 67._

Quand chef Perouse n’osera sa tunique,
Sans au couvert tout nud s’expolier.[65]
Seront prins[66] sept, faict aristocratique!
Le père et fils morts par poincte au colier.

_Translation._

When the chief of Perouse dare not risk casting off his tunic
Without stripping himself entirely naked,
The last of the seven taken, what an event in the upper circles!
Father and son killed by a stab in the throat.

When Sixtus V. (_chef de Perouse_) will not dare to excommunicate Henri III., having already lost England in 1534, and feeling he must not be entirely stripped by a further Gallican schism, will be rid of the posterity of Henri II. (_seront prins sept_) by a tremendous event in aristocratic circles. Father and son will both perish by a thrust in the throat.

DEATH OF THE GUISE (DECEMBER 23, 24, 1588). [I. 80.]

_Century IV.—Quatrain 60._

Les sept enfans en hostaine[67] laissés;
Le tiers[68] viendra son enfant trucider[69];
Deux par son fils seront d’estoc percés;
Gennes Florence les viendra enconder.[70]

_Translation._

Seven children will be left in his house;
The _tiers état_ will come to murder his child;
Two will have been pierced by the sword of his son;
Genoa and Florence will come to disorder them.

This is, Henri II. at his death will leave seven children in his house. The _Conseil des Seize_ (_le tiers_) will incite Jacques Clément to go to St. Cloud to assassinate Henri III., because he has caused Henri de Guise and the Cardinal to be slain by sword thrusts. Then Charles Emmanuel I., Duke of Savoy (_le Génois_), and Alexander Farnese, Duke of Parma (_le Florentin_), General of Philip II., will come to make war on Henri IV., who will be compelled by Farnese to raise the siege of Paris (1590) and Rouen (1592) with precipitation.

Parma was, originally, of Etruscan foundation (Bouillet, “Dictionnaire d’Histoire” _s.v._ Parme), and in this respect rises above Florence, the capital of Modern Tuscany. This justifies Nostradamus in designating the Duke of Parma as _Florence_. Genoa, by synecdoche, may stand for Savoy, as being its more commercial emporium.

BURIAL AT ST. DENIS OF THE LAST OF THE VALOIS (1589-1610). [I. 82.]

_Century I.—Quatrain 20._

Serpens[71] transmis en la cage de fer
Où les enfans septains du Roy sont pris,
Les vieux et peres sortiront bas[72] de l’enfer,[73]
Ains mourir voir de fruict mort et cris.

_Translation._

The coffin being lowered behind the grille of iron,
Where the seven children of the King are buried,
The ancestors of the Valois will rise from the depths of the tomb,
And cry out to see their withered fruit thus die.

Henri III. was deposited, provisionally, in 1589, at Compiègne, in the Abbey of St. Corneille; and it was only in 1610 that his body was conveyed to the vaults of St. Denis, at the same time with the bodies of Henri IV. and Catherine de Medici. This quatrain is not very remarkable, but the interpretation hangs pretty well together. It has perhaps this value, that it shows us one incident in a vast procession of historical dissolving views that seem to have passed before the eye of Nostradamus, and one would say in chronological sequence, which he must himself have broken up purposely afterwards, fearing that the chronological clue would often render the prophecy too open to interpretation to be good for either his own safety or the public advantage.

MARRIAGE OF FRANÇOIS II. AND MARY STUART (APRIL 24, 1558). [I. 84.]

_Century X.—Quatrain 39._

Premier fils vefve[74] malheureux mariage
Sans nuls enfants, deux Isles en discord,
Avant dix-huict incompetant âge.[75]
De l’autre près[76] plus bas sera l’accord.

_Translation._

The eldest son leaves, with his wretched marriage,
Widow, no children, and two isles in strife,
And dies before eighteen, incompetent of age.
The younger son will marry earlier still.[77]

The matter seems to stand thus. François II., eldest son of Henri II., shall die and leave his wife, Mary Stuart, a widow without children, after an unhappy marriage that extends over less than two years, before he is eighteen, or of competent age. The particularity of this detail is wonderful, and far more like history than prophecy, except as to the brevity with which it is expressed. His enunciations amount to hints only, but they are so pregnant that, when you fill in the indispensably connected particulars, the statement reads like history. So here the instant you recognize that François II. is the subject of the lines, you refer to history for his birth and death, January 19, 1543, December 15, 1560—that is, 17 years, 10 months, and 15 days, or a month and 15 days short of 18 years. _Avant dix-huict_ is Nostradamus’s phrase. Again, his death establishes discord between Elizabeth of England and Mary of Scotland (_deux Isles en discord_). Charles IX., his younger brother, was affianced to Elizabeth of Austria when still younger, at eleven years of age, though he did not marry till twenty. This is how M. le Pelletier harmonizes the line. But, as affiancing is not marriage, this cannot have any affinity at all with marrying at an incompetent age. I should propose to read the line thus. Of the younger one afterwards, and lower down, will the concordance, account, or accord be given; and accordingly we shall have now to enter upon several stanzas that relate to Charles IX.

CHARLES IX. (_Le roi farouche_). (1560-1574). [I. 86.]

_Century III.—Quatrain 66._

Le grand Baillif d’Orleans mis à mort
Sera par un de sang vindicatif:
De mort mérité ne mourra ni par sort;
Des pieds et mains mal le faisoit captif.

_Translation._

The great Bailiff of Orleans shall be put to death
By one of vindictive blood:
Not undeserved death shall he die, nor by fate;
For they will insecurely make him captive by feet and hands.

Jérôme Groslot shall be arrested November 9, 1561, and condemned by the Inquisition to beheadal for delivering the city to the Calvinists. But he will not suffer the death merited, nor undergo his fate; his keepers being bribed, he shall escape.

DEFECTION OF ADMIRAL COLIGNY (1559-1567). [I. 87.]

_Century VI.—Quatrain 75._

Le grand pillot[78] par Roy sera mandé,[79]
Laisser la classe[80] pour plus haut lieu atteindre:
Sept ans après sera contrebandé,[81]
Barbare armée viendra Venise craindre.[82]

_Translation._

He who shall have been appointed admiral by the king,
Shall leave the fleet to take a higher post;
Seven years later, shall take the opposite side to the king;
Venice shall dread an army of barbarians coming.

Gaspard de Coligny, made grand-admiral by Henri II., in 1552, shall quit the fleet in 1559, on the death of the King, and place himself at the head of the Calvinist party. In 1562 he will be general of their forces, and in 1567—that is, seven years after withdrawal from the fleet, he will head the rebellion in the civil war. At the same moment Venice will dread the armies of Selim II., that will wrest Cyprus from her in 1570. The peace between the Catholics and Protestants was signed at St. Germain in this very year. The Venetians, however, in this year gained the naval victory of Lepanto over the Turks in 1570.

MURDER OF LOUIS DE BOURBON, PRINCE OF CONDÉ (MARCH 13, 1569). [I. 88.]

_Century III.—Quatrain 41._

Bossu sera esleu par le conseil:
Plus hideux monstre en terre n’apperceu.
Le coup voulant crevera l’œil[83]
Le traistre au Roy pour fidelle receu.

_Translation._

Crookback shall be elected by the council:
A more hideous monster never seen on earth.
An intentional shot pierces the eye of the traitor
Who had sworn to be faithful to the king.