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Chapter III: The Godlings of Disease (2)

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"The Muhammadan methods of studying exorcism are different from those of the Hindus. One of them is as follows:--The candidate begins his study under the guidance of his teacher on the last day of the lunar month, provided it falls on a Tuesday or Sunday. The initiation takes place in a room, the walls and floor of which have been plastered with mud, and here and there daubed with sandal paste. On the floor a white sheet is spread, and the candidate after washing his hands and feet, and wearing a new waist-cloth or trousers, sits on the sheet. He lights one or two incense sticks and makes offerings of a white cloth and meat to one of the principal Musalmân saints. This process is repeated for from fourteen to forty days." [317]

Few rural exorcisers go through this elaborate ritual, the object of which it is not difficult to understand. The candidate wishes to get the Vetâla or local demon of the village into his power and to make him work his will. So he provides himself with a number of articles which, as we shall see, are known for their influence over the spirits of evil, such as the Urad pulse, lamps, cocoanuts, etc. The careful rule of bathing, the precautions against personal impurity, the worship done at the shrine of the village godling by the teacher, are all intended to guard him in the hour of danger. The common village "wise man" contents himself with learning a few charms of the hocus pocus variety, and a cure in some difficult case of devil possession secures his reputation as a healer.

Methods of Rural Exorcism.

The number of these charms is legion, and most exorcisers have one of their own in which they place special confidence and which they are unwilling to disclose. As Sir Monier Williams writes [318]:--"No magician, wizard, sorcerer or witch whose feats are recorded in history, biography or fable, has ever pretended to be able to accomplish by incantation and enchantment half of what the Mantra-sâstri claims to have power to effect by help of his Mantras. For example, he can prognosticate futurity, work the most startling prodigies, infuse breath into dead bodies, kill or humiliate enemies, afflict any one anywhere with disease or madness, inspire anyone with love, charm weapons and give them unerring efficacy, enchant armour and make it impenetrable, turn milk into wine, plants into meat, or invert all such processes at will. He is even superior to the gods, and can make goddesses, gods, imps and demons carry out his most trifling behests. Hence it is not surprising that the following remarkable saying is everywhere current throughout India: 'The whole universe is subject to the gods; the gods are subject to the Mantras; the Mantras to the Brâhmans; therefore the Brâhmans are our gods.'"

All these devices of Mantras or spells, Kavâchas or amulets, Nyâsas or mentally assigning various parts of the body to the protection of tutelary presiding deities, and Mudras or intertwining of the fingers with a mystic meaning, spring from the corrupt fountain head of the Tantras, the bible of Sâktism. But these are the speciality of the higher class of professional exorciser, who is very generally a Brâhman, and do not concern us here.

A few examples of the formulæ used by the village "cunning man" may be given here. Thus in Mirzapur when a person is known to be under the influence of a witch the Ojha recites a spell, which runs--"Bind the evil eye; bind the fist; bind the spell; bind the curse; bind the ghost and the churel; bind the witch's hands and feet. Who can bind her? The teacher can bind her. I, the disciple of the teacher, can bind her. Go, witch, to wherever thy shrine may be; sit there and leave the afflicted person." In these spells Hanumân, the monkey godling, is often invoked. Thus--"I salute the command of my teacher. Hanumân, the hero, is the hero of heroes. He has in his quiver nine lâkhs of arrows. He is sometimes on the right, sometimes on the left, and sometimes in the front. I serve thee, powerful master. May not this man's body be crippled. I see the cremation ground in the two worlds and outside them. If in my body or in the body of this man any ill arise, then I call on the influence of Hanumân. My piety, the power of the teacher, this charm is true because it comes from the Almighty." In the same way two great witches, Lonâ Chamârin and Ismâîl the Jogi are often invoked. The Musalmân calls on Sulaimân, the lord Solomon, who is a leader of demons and a controller of evil spirits, for which there is ample authority in the Qurân.

But it is in charms for disease that the rural exorciser is most proficient. Accidents, such as the bites of snakes, stings of scorpions, or wasps are in particular treated in this way, and these charms make up most of the folk-medicine of Northern India. Thus, when a man is stung by a scorpion the exorciser says--"Black scorpion of the limestone! Green is thy tail and black thy mouth. God orders thee to go home. Come out! Come out! If thou fail to come out Mahâdeva and Pârvatî will drive thee out!" Another spell for scorpion sting runs thus--"On the hill and mountain is the holy cow. From its dung the scorpions were born, six black and six brown. Help me! O Nara Sinha! (the man lion incarnation of Vishnu). Rub each foot with millet and the poison will depart." So, to cure the bite of a dog, get some clay which has been worked on a potter's wheel, which as we shall see is a noted fetish, make a lump of it and rub it to the wound and say--"The black dog is covered with thick hair." Another plan in cases of hydrophobia is to kill a dog, and after burning it to make the patient imbibe the smoke. Headache is caused by a worm in the head, which comes out if the ear be rubbed with butter. Women of the gipsy tribes are noted for their charms to take out the worm which causes toothache. When a man is bitten by a snake the practitioner says--"True god, true hero, Hanumân! The snake moves in a tortuous way. The male and female weasel come out of their hole to destroy it. Which poison will they devour? First they will eat the black Karait snake, then the snake with the jewel, then the Ghor snake. I pray to thee for help, my true teacher." So, if you desire to be safe from the attacks of the tiger, say--"Tie up the tiger, tie up the tigress, tie up her seven cubs. Tie up the roads and the footpaths and the fields. O Vasudeva, have mercy? Have mercy, O Lonâ Chamârin!" Lastly, if you desire an appointment, say--"O Kâlî, Kankâlî, Mahâkâli! Thy face is beautiful, but at thy heart is a serpent. There are four demon heroes and eighty-four Bhairons. If thou givest the order I will worship them with betel nuts and sweetmeats. Now shout--'Mercy, O Mother Kali!'" It would not be difficult to describe hundreds of such charms, but what has been recorded will be sufficient to exemplify the ordinary methods of rural exorcism. [319]

When the Ojha is called in to identify the demon which has beset a patient, he begins by ascertaining whether it is a local ghost or an outsider which has attacked him on a journey. Then he calls for some cloves, and muttering a charm over them, ties them to the bedstead on which the sick man lies. Then the patient is told to name the ghost which has possessed him, and he generally names one of his dead relations, or the ghost of a hill, a tree or a burial ground. Then the Ojha suggests an appropriate offering, which when bestowed and food given to Brâhmans, the patient ought in all decency to recover. If he does not, the Ojha asserts that the right ghost has not been named, and the whole process is gone through again, if necessary funds are forthcoming.

The Baiga of Mirzapur, who very often combines the function of an Ojha with his own legitimate business of managing the local ghosts, works in very much the same way. He takes some barley in a sieve, which as we shall see is a very powerful fetish, and shakes it until only a few grains are left in the interstices. Then he marks down the intruding ghost by counting the grains, and recommends the sacrifice of a fowl or a goat, or the offering of some liquor, most of which he usually consumes himself. If his patient die, he gets out of the difficulty by saying--"Such and such a powerful Bhût carried him off. What can a poor man, such as I am, do?" If a tiger or a bear kills a man, the Baiga tells his friends that such and such a Bhût was offended because no attention was paid to him, and in revenge entered into the animal which killed the deceased, the obvious moral being that in future more regular offerings should be made through the Baiga.

In Hoshangâbâd the Bhomka sorcerer has a handful of grain waved over the head of the sick man. This is then carried to the Bhomka, who makes a heap of it on the floor, and sitting over it, swings a lighted lamp suspended by four strings from his fingers. He then repeats slowly the names of the patient's ancestors and of the village and local godling, pausing between each, and when the lamp stops spinning the name at which it halts is the name to be propitiated. Then in the same way he asks--"What is the propitiation offering to be? A pig? A cocoanut? A chicken? A goat?" And the same mystic sign indicates the satisfaction of the god. [320]

The Kol diviner drops oil into a vessel of water. The name of the deity is pronounced as the oil is dropped. If it forms one globule in the water, it is considered that the particular god to be appeased has been correctly named; if it splutters and forms several globules, another name is tried. The Orâon Ojha puts the fowls intended as victims before a small mud image, on which he sprinkles a few grains of rice; if they pick at the rice it indicates that the particular devil represented by the image is satisfied with the intentions of his votaries, and the sacrifice proceeds. [321]

The Panjâb diviner adopts a stock method common to such practitioners all over the world. He writes some spells on a piece of paper, and pours on it a large drop of ink. Flowers are then placed in the hands of a young child, who is told to look into the ink and say, "Summon the four guardians." He is asked if he sees anything in the ink, and according to the answer a result is arrived at. [322] The modus operandi of these exorcisers is, in fact, very much the same in India as in other parts of the world. [323]

Exorcism by Dancing.

In all rites of this class religious dancing as a means of scaring the demon of evil holds an important place. Thus of the Bengal Muâsis Col. Dalton writes [324]--"The affection comes on like a fit of ague, lasting sometimes for a quarter of an hour, the patient or possessed person writhing and trembling with intense violence, especially at the commencement of the paroxysm. Then he is seen to spring from the ground into the air, and a succession of leaps follow, all executed as though he were shot at by unseen agency. During this stage of the seizure he is supposed to be quite unconscious, and rolls into the fire, if there be one, or under the feet of the dancers, without sustaining injury from the heat or from the pressure. This lasts for a few minutes only, and is followed by the spasmodic stage. With hands and knees on the ground and hair loosened, the body is convulsed, and the head shakes violently, whilst from the mouth issues a hissing or gurgling noise. The patient next evincing an inclination to stand on his legs, the bystanders assist him, and place a stick in his hand, with the aid of which he hops about, the spasmodic action of the body still continuing, and the head performing by jerks a violently fatiguing circular movement. This may go on for hours, though Captain Samuells says that no one in his senses could continue such exertion for many minutes. When the Baiga is appealed to to cast out the spirit, he must first ascertain whether it is Gansâm or one of his familiars that has possessed the victim. If it be the great Gansâm, the Baiga implores him to desist, meanwhile gradually anointing the victim with butter; and if the treatment is successful, the patient gradually and naturally subsides into a state of repose, from which he rises into consciousness, and, restored to his normal state, feels no fatigue or other ill-effects from the attack."

The same religious dance of ecstasy appears in what is known as the Râs Mandala of the modern Vaishnava sects, which is supposed to represent the dance of the Gopîs with Krishna. So in Bombay among the Marâthas the worship of the chief goddess of the Dakkhin, Tuljâ Bhavânî, is celebrated by a set of dancing devotees, called Gondhalis, whose leader becomes possessed by the goddess. A high stool is covered with a black cloth. On the cloth thirty-six pinches of rice are dropped in a heap, and with them turmeric and red powder, all scarers of demons, are mixed. On the rice is set a copper vessel filled with milk and water, and in this the goddess is supposed to take her abode. Over it are laid betel leaves and a cocoanut. Five torches are carried round the vessel by five men, each shouting "Ambâ Bhavânî!" The music plays, and dancers dance before her. So at a Brâhman marriage at Pûna the boy and girl are seated on the shoulders of their maternal uncles or other relations, who perform a frantic dance, the object being, as in all these cases, to scare away the spirits of evil. [325]

Flagellation.

So with flagellation, which all over the world is supposed to have the power of scaring demons. Thus in the Central Indian Hills the Baiga with his Gurda, or sacred chain, which being made of iron, possesses additional potency, soundly thrashes patients attacked with epilepsy, hysteria, and similar ailments, which from their nature are obviously due to demoniacal agency. There are numerous instances of the use of the lash for this purpose. In Bombay, among the Lingâyats, the woman who names the child has her back beaten with gentle blows; and some beggar Brâhmans refuse to take alms until the giver beats them. [326] There is a famous shrine at Ghauspur, in the Jaunpur District, where the Ojhas beat their patients to drive out the disease demon. [327] The records of Roman Catholic hagiology and of the special sect of the Flagellants will furnish numerous parallel instances.

Treatment of Sorcerers.

While the sorcerer by virtue of his profession is generally respected and feared, in some places they have been dealt with rather summarily. There is everywhere a struggle between the Brâhman priest of the greater gods and the exorciser, who works by the agency of demons. Sudarsan Sâh rid Garhwâl of them by summoning all the professors of the black art with their books. When they were collected he had them bound hand and foot and thrown with their books and implements into the river. The same monarch also disposed very effectually of a case of possession in his own family. One day he heard a sound of drumming and dancing in one of his courtyards, and learnt that a ghost named Goril had taken possession of one of his female slaves. The Râja was wroth, and taking a thick bamboo, he proceeded to the spot and laid about him so vigorously that the votaries of Goril soon declared that the deity had taken his departure. The Râja then ordered Goril to cease from possessing people, and nowadays if any Garhwâli thinks himself possessed, he has only to call on the name of Sudarsan Sâh and the demon departs. [328]

Appointment of Ojhas.

The mode of succession to the dignity of an Ojha varies in different places. In Mirzapur the son is usually educated by his father, and taught the various spells and modes of incantation. But this is not always the case; and here at the present time the institution is in a transition stage. South of the Son we have the Baiga, who usually acts as an Ojha also; and he is invariably drawn from the aboriginal races. Further north he is known as Nâya (Sanskrit nâyaka) or "leader." Further north, again, as we leave the hilly country and enter the completely Brâhmanized Gangetic valley, he changes into the regular Ojha, who is always a low-class Brâhman.

In one instance which came under my own notice, the Nâya of the village had been an aboriginal Kol, and he before his death announced that "the god had sat on the head" of a Brâhman candidate for the office, who was duly initiated, and is now the recognized village Ojha. This is a good example of the way in which Brâhmanism annexes and absorbs the demonolatry of the lower races. This, too, enables us to correct a statement which has been made even by such a careful inquirer as Mr. Sherring when he says [329]--"Formerly the Ojha was always a Brâhman; but his profession has become so lucrative that sharp, clever, shrewd men in all the Hindu castes have taken to it." There can be no question that the process has been the very reverse of this, and that the early Ojhas were aboriginal sorcerers, and that their trade was taken over by the Brâhman as the land became Hinduized.

In Hoshangâbâd the son usually succeeds his father, but a Bhomka does not necessarily marry into a Bhomka family, nor does it follow that "once a Bhomka, always a Bhomka." On the contrary, the position seems to be the result of the special favour of the godling of the particular village in which he lives; and if the whole of the residents emigrate in a body, then the godling of the new village site will have to be consulted afresh as to the servant whom he chooses to attend upon him.

"If a Bhomka dies or goes away, or a new village is established, his successor is appointed in the following way. All the villagers assemble at the shrine of Mutua Deo, and offer a black and white chicken to him. A Parihâr, or priest, should be enticed to grace the solemnity and make the sacrifice, but if that cannot be done the oldest man in the assembly does it. Then he sets a wooden grain measure rolling along the line of seated people, and the man before whom it stops is marked out by the intervention of the deity as the new Bhomka." [330]

It marks perhaps some approximation to Hinduism that the priest, when inspired by the god, wears a thread made of the hair of a bullock's tail, unless this is based on the common use of thread or hair as a scarer of demons, or is some token or fetish peculiar to the race. At the same time the non-Brâhmanic character of the worship is proved by the fact that the priest, when in a state of ecstasy, cannot bear the presence of a cow, or Brâhman. "The god," they say, "would leave their heads if either of these came near."

On one occasion, when Sir C. A. Elliott saw the process of exorcism, the men did not actually revolve when "the god came on his head." He covered his head up well in a cloth, leaving space for the god to approach, and in this state he twisted and turned himself rapidly, and soon sat down exhausted. We shall see elsewhere that the head is one of the chief spirit entries, and the top of the head is left uncovered in order to let the spirit make its way through the sutures of the skull. Then from the pit of his stomach he uttered words which the bystanders interpreted to direct a certain line of conduct for the sick man to pursue. "But perhaps the occasion was not a fair test, as the Parihâr strongly objected to the presence of an unbeliever, on the pretence that the god would be afraid to come before so great an official." This has always been the standing difficulty in Europeans obtaining a practical knowledge of the details of rural sorcery, and when a performance of the kind is specially arranged, it will usually be found that the officiant performs the introductory rites with comparative success, but as it comes to the crucial point he breaks down, just as the ecstatic crisis should have commenced. This is always attributed to the presence of an unbeliever, however interested and sympathetic. The same result usually happens at spiritualistic séances, when anyone with even an elementary knowledge of physics or mechanics happens to be one of the audience.

Fraud in Exorcism.

The question naturally arises--Are all these Ojhas and Baigas conscious hypocrites and swindlers? Dr. Tylor shrewdly remarks that "the sorcerer generally learns his time-honoured profession in good faith, and retains the belief in it more or less from first to last. At once dupe and cheat, he combines the energy of a believer with the cunning of a hypocrite." [331] This coincides with the experience of most competent Indian observers. No one who consults a Syâna and observes the confident way in which he asserts his mystic power, can doubt that he at least believes to a large extent in the sacredness of his mission. Captain Samuells, who repeatedly witnessed these performances, distinctly asserts that it is a mistake to suppose that there is always intentional deception. [332]

Disease Charms.

Next to the services of the professional exorciser for the purpose of preventing or curing disease, comes the use of special charms for this purpose. There is a large native literature dealing with this branch of science. As a rule most native patients undergo a course of this treatment before they visit our hospitals, and the result of European medical science is hence occasionally disappointing. One favourite talisman of this kind is the magic square, which consists in an arrangement of certain numbers in a special way. For instance, in order to cure barrenness, it is a good plan to write a series of numbers which added up make 73 both ways on a piece of bread, and with it feed a black dog, which is the attendant of Bhairon, a giver of offspring. To cure a tumour a figure in the form of a cross is drawn with three cyphers in the centre and one at each of the four ends. This is prepared on a Sunday and tied round the left arm. Another has a series of numbers aggregating 15 every way. This is engraved on copper and tied round a child's neck to keep off the Evil Eye. In the case of cattle disease, some gibberish, which pretends to be Arabic or Sanskrit, appealing for the aid of Lonâ Chamârin or Ismâîl Jogi, with a series of mystic numbers, is written on a piece of tile. This is hung on a rope over the village cattle path, and a ploughshare is buried at the entrance to make the charm more powerful. When cattle are attacked with worms, the owner fills a clean earthen pot with water drawn from the well with one hand; he then mutters a blessing, and with some sacred Dâbh grass sprinkles a little water seven times along the back of the animal.

The number of these charms is legion. Many of them merge into the special preservatives against the Evil Eye, which will be discussed later on. Thus the bâzâr merchant writes the words Râm! Râm! several times near his door, or he makes a representation of the sun and moon, or a rude image of Ganesa, the godling of good luck, or draws the mystical Swâstika. A house of a banker at Kankhal which I recently examined bore a whole gallery of pictures round it. There were Siva and Pârvatî on an ox with their son Mârkandeya; Yamarâja, the deity of death, with a servant waving a fan over his head; Krishna with his spouse Râdhâ: Hanumân, the monkey godling; the Ganges riding on a fish, with Bhâgîratha, who brought her down from heaven; Bhîshma, the hero of the Mahâbhârata; Arjuna representing the Pândavas; the saints Uddalaka and Nârada Muni; Ganesa with his two maidservants; and Brahma and Vishnu riding on Sesha Nâga, the great serpent. Beneath these was an inscription invoking Râma, Lakshmana, the Ganges and Hanumân.

Rag Offerings.

Next come the arrangements by which disease may be expelled or transferred to someone else. In this connection we may discuss the curious custom of hanging up rags on trees or near sacred wells. Of this custom India supplies numerous examples. At the Balchha pass in Garhwâl there is a small heap of stones at the summit, with sticks and rags attached to them, to which travellers add a stone or two as they pass. [333] In Persia they fix rags on bushes in the name of the Imâm Raza. They explain the custom by saying that the eye of the Imâm being always on the top of the mountain, the shreds which are left there by those who hold him in reverence, remind him of what he ought to do in their behalf with Muhammad, 'Ali and the other holy personages, who are able to propitiate the Almighty in their favour. [334] Moorcroft in his journey to Ladâkh describes how he propitiated the evil spirit of a dangerous pass with the leg of a pair of worn-out nankin trousers. [335] Among the Mirzapur Korwas the Baiga hangs rags on the trees which shade the village shrine, as a charm to bring health and good luck. These rag shrines are to be found all over the country, and are generally known as Chithariyâ or Chithraiyâ Bhavânî, "Our Lady of Tatters." So in the Panjâb the trees on which rags are hung are called Lingrî Pîr or the rag saint. [336] The same custom prevails at various Himâlayan shrines and at the Vastra Harana or sacred tree at Brindaban near Mathura, which is now invested with a special legend, as commemorating the place where Krishna carried off the clothes of the milkmaids when they were bathing, an incident which constantly appears in both European and Indian folk-lore. [337] In Berâr a heap of stones daubed with red and placed under a tree fluttering with rags represents Chindiya Deo or "the Lord of Tatters," where, if you present a rag in due season, you may chance to get new clothes. [338] The practice of putting or tying rags from the person of the sick to a tree, especially a banyan, cocoanut, or some thorny tree, is prevalent in the Konkan, but not to such an extent as that of fixing nails or tying bottles to trees. In the Konkan, when a person is suffering from a spirit disease, the exorcist takes the spirit away from the sick man and fixes it in a tree by thrusting a nail in it. We have already had an example of this treatment of ghosts by the Baiga. Sometimes he catches the spirit of the disease in a bottle and ties the bottle to a tree. [339] In a well-known story of the Arabian Knights the Jinn is shut up in a bottle under the seal of the Lord Solomon.

There have been various explanations of this custom of hanging rags on trees. [340] One is that they are offerings to the local deity of the tree. Mr. Gomme quotes an instance of an Irishman who made a similar offering with the following invocation: "To St. Columbkill--I offer up this button, a bit o' the waistband o' my own breeches, an' a taste o' my wife's petticoat, in remembrance of us havin' made this holy station; an' may they rise up in glory to prove it for us in the last day."

He "points to the undoubted nature of the offerings and their service, in the identification of their owners--a service which implies their power to bear witness in spirit-land to the pilgrimage of those who deposited them during lifetime at the sacred well." Some of the Indian evidence seems to show that these rags are really offerings to the sacred tree. Thus, Colonel Tod [341] describes the trees in a sacred grove in Râjputâna as decorated with shreds of various coloured cloth, "offerings of the traveller to the forest divinity for protection against evil spirits." This usage often merges into actual tree-worship, as among the Mirzapur Patâris, who, when fever prevails, tie a cotton string which has never touched water round the trunk of a Pîpal tree, and hang rags from the branches. So, the Kharwârs have a sacred Mahua tree, known as the Byâhi Mahua or "Mahua of marriage," on which threads are hung at marriages. At almost any holy place women may be seen winding a cotton thread round the trunk of a Pîpal tree.

Another explanation is that the hanging of the rags is done with the object of transferring a disease to some one else. Professor Rhys suggests that a distinction is to be drawn between the rags hung on trees or near a well and the pins, which are so commonly thrown into the water itself. It is noteworthy that in some cases the pins are replaced by buttons, or even by copper coins. The rags, on the other hand, he thinks may be vehicles of the disease. To this Mr. Hartland objects--"If this opinion were correct, one would expect to find both ceremonies performed by the same patient at the same well; he would throw in the pin and also place the rag on the bush, or wherever its proper place might be. The performance of both ceremonies is, however, I think, exceptional. Where the pin or button is dropped into the well, the patient does not trouble about the rag, and vice versâ."

He goes on to say that "the curious detail mentioned by Mrs. Evans in reference to the rags tied on the bushes at St. Elian's well--namely, that they must be tied with wool--points to a still further degradation of the rite in the case we are now examining. Probably at one time rags were used and simply tied to the sacred tree with wool. What may have been the reason for using wool remains to be discovered. But it is easy to see how, if the reason were lost, the wool might be looked on as the essential condition of the due performance of the ceremony, and so continue after the disuse of the rags."

In reference to this it may be noted that there is some reason to believe that the sheep was a sacred animal. In Western India high-caste Hindus wear blankets after bathing. The Kunbis use a mixture of sheep's milk with lime juice and opium as a cure for diarrhoea. The Parheyas of Bengal used to wash their houses with sheep's dung to scare spirits. And the use of woollen clothes in certain rites is prescribed in the current ritual.

Mr. Hartland is inclined to think that the rags represent entire articles of clothing which were at an earlier time deposited, and on the analogy of the habit of the witch of getting hold of some part of the body, such as nail-cuttings and so on, by which she may get the owner into her power, the rags were meant to connect the worshipper with the deity. "In like manner my shirt or stocking, or a rag to represent it, placed upon a sacred bush or thrust into a sacred well, my name written on the walls of a temple, a stone or pellet from my hand cast upon a sacred image or a sacred cairn, is thenceforth in constant contact with divinity; and the effluence of divinity, reaching and involving it, will reach and involve me. In this way I may be permanently united with the god."

It is quite possible that some or all of the ideas thus given may have resulted in the present practice in India.

Disease Transference.

Disease is also transferred in an actual physical way. Thus, in Ireland, a charm or curse is left on a gate or stile, and the first healthy person who passes through will, it is believed, have the disease transferred to him. So, in Scotland, if a child is affected with the whooping cough, it is taken into the land of another laird, and there the disease is left. [342] Similarly, in Northern India, one way of transferring disease is to fill a pot with flowers and rice and bury it in a path, with a stone to cover it. Whoever touches this is supposed to contract the disease. This is known as Chalauwa, which means "passing on" the malady. This goes on daily in Upper India. Often when walking in a bâzâr in the early morning, you will see a little pile of earth decorated with flowers in the middle of the road. This usually contains some of the scabs or scales from the body of a small-pox patient, which are placed there in the hope that someone may touch them, contract the malady and thus relieve the sufferer. In 1885 it was officially reported that in Cawnpur small-pox had greatly increased from the practice of placing these scales on the roads. At the instance of Government the matter was investigated, and it was found that in the early stages of the disease, the Diuli ceremony is performed at cross-roads; and that at a later period the crusts from smallpox patients mixed with curdled milk and cocoanut juice are carried to the temple or platform of the small-pox goddess and are dedicated to her. [343]

One morning, in a village near Agra, I came by chance on two old women fiercely quarrelling. On making inquiries, I found that one of them had placed some small-pox crusts from her child on her neighbour's threshold. The people agreed that this was a wicked act, as it displayed special animus against a particular person. If they had been placed on the cross-road, and any one had been unlucky enough to touch them and contract the disease, it would not have mattered much--that was the will of God.

Some time ago an indigo planter, near Benares, was astonished by a respectable native friend asking the loan of one of his geese. On inquiry he ascertained that his friend's son was suffering from bowel complaint, and that he had been advised by a native physician to get a goose, place it in the boy's bed, and that the disease would be communicated to the bird, with the result of curing the patient. This remedy was known in Italy. One of the prescriptions of Marcellus runs: [344] "To those who are suffering from a colic. Let them fasten a live duck to their stomachs, thus the disease will pass from the man to the duck, and the duck will die." In the same way when any one wants to set their neighbour's household at variance, a quill of a porcupine, which is supposed to be a quarrelsome animal, is thrown over the wall. On this principle in Italy a short and simple method of setting people by the ears is to buy some of the herb Discordia and throw it into a house, when the result is sure to be a vendetta. [345] In the Indian Hills, in case of illness a stake is driven down into the earth where four roads meet, and certain drugs and grains are buried close by, which are speedily disinterred and eaten by crows. This gives immediate relief to the sufferer. [346] Here the idea apparently is, that the disease is transferred to the crow, a sacred bird, and in close communication with the spirits of the sainted dead. So in cases of cattle disease, a buffalo's skull, a small lamb, fire in a pan, vessels of butter and milk, wisps of grass and branches of the Siras tree (Acacia speciosa) are thrown over the boundary of another village and are supposed to carry the disease demon with them. This often causes a riot. [347] In the same way, killing buffaloes and putting their heads in the next village removes cholera, and by pouring oil on grain and burning it, the disease flies elsewhere in the smoke. This seems to be one of the principles which underlie the general practice of fire sacrifice.

Scapegoats.

This brings us to the regular scapegoat. At shrines of Sîtalâ, the small-pox goddess, sweepers bring round a small pig. Contributions are called for from the worshippers, and when the value of the animal is made up, it is driven by the people into the jungle, pursued by an excited crowd, who believe that the creature has taken the disease with it.

General Sleeman gives an excellent example of this custom. [348] "More than four-fifths of the city and cantonments of Sâgar had been affected by a violent influenza, which, commencing with a violent cough, was followed by a fever and in some cases terminated in death. I had an application from the old Queen Dowager of Sâgar, to allow of a noisy religious procession for the purpose of imploring deliverance from this great calamity. The women and children in this procession were to do their utmost to add to the noise by raising their voices in psalmody, beating upon their brass pans and pots with all their might, and discharging firearms where they could get them. Before the noisy crowd was to be driven a buffalo, which had been purchased by general subscription, in order that every family might participate in the merit. They were to follow it out eight miles, where it was to be turned out for anyone who would take it. If the animal returned, the disease must return with it, and the ceremony be performed over again. I was requested to intimate the circumstances to the officer commanding the troops in cantonments, in order that the noise they intended to make might not excite any alarm and bring down upon them the visit of the soldiery. It was, however, subsequently determined that the animal should be a goat, and he was driven before the crowd. Accordingly, I have on several occasions been requested to allow of such noisy ceremonies in cases of epidemics, and the confidence the people feel in their efficacy has, no doubt, a good effect."

Demons Scared by Noise.

This incidentally leads to the consideration of the principle that evil spirits are scared by noise. In the first place this appears largely to account for the use of bells in religious worship. The tolling of the bells keeps off the evil spirits which throng round any place where the worship of the regular gods is being performed. Milton speaks of--

"The bellman's drowsy charm;
To bless the doors from nightly harm." [349]

So, the passing bell protects the departing soul as it flies through the air from demoniacal influence. As Grose writes [350]--"The passing bell was anciently rung for two purposes; one to bespeak the prayers of all good Christians for a soul just departing; the other, to drive away the evil spirits who stood at the bed's foot, and about the house, ready to seize their prey, or at least to molest and terrify the soul in its passage; but by the ringing of that bell (for Durandus informs us evil spirits are much afraid of bells), they were kept aloof, and the soul, like a hunted hare, gained the start, or had what is by sportsmen called 'law.'" The keening at an Irish wake is probably a survival of the same custom. But Panjâbi Musalmâns have a prejudice against beating a brass tray, as it is believed to disturb the dead, who wake, supposing the Day of Judgment has arrived. [351]

Another fact which adds to the efficacy of bells for this purpose, is that they are made of metal, which, as we shall see elsewhere, is a well-known scarer of demons.

Hence in Indian temples the use of the bell, or resounding shell trumpet, is universal. The intention is to call the divinity and wake him from his sleep, so that he may consume the offerings prepared for him by his votaries, and to scare vagrant ghosts, who would otherwise partake of the meal. On the same principle the drum is, as we have seen, a sacred instrument. The same is the case with bells. The Todas of Madras worship Hiriya Deva, whose representative is the sacred buffalo bell, which hangs from the neck of the finest buffalo in the sacred herd. [352] The Gonds have also elevated the bell into a deity in the form of Ghâgarapen, and one special class of their devil priests, the Ojhyâls, always wear bells. [353] So, the Patâri priest in Mirzapur and many classes of ascetics throughout the country carry bells and rattles made of iron, which they move as they walk to scare demons. Iron, it need hardly be said, is most efficacious for this purpose. This also accounts for the music played at weddings, when the young pair are in special danger from the attacks of evil spirits. At many rites it is the rule to clap the hands at a special part of the ritual with the same purpose. The Râêdâsi Chamârs and many other people shout or sing loudly as they remove a corpse for burial or cremation, and there are few magistrates in India who have not been asked for leave by some happy father to allow guns to be fired from his house-top to drive evil spirits from the mother and her child. Mr. Campbell records that they fire a gun over the back of a sick cow in Scotland with the same intention. [354]

Disease Scapegoats.

To return to the use of the scape animal as a means of expelling disease. In Berâr, if cholera is very severe, the people get a scapegoat or young buffalo, but in either case it must be a female and as black as possible, the latter condition being based on the fact that Yamarâja, the lord of death, uses such an animal as his vehicle. They then tie some grain, cloves and red lead (all demon scarers) on its back and turn it out of the village. A man of the gardener caste takes the goat outside the boundary, and it is not allowed to return. [355] So among the Korwas of Mirzapur, when cholera begins, a black cock, and when it is severe, a black goat, is offered by the Baiga at the shrine of the village godling, and he then drives the animal off in the direction of some other village. After it has gone a little distance, the Baiga, who is protected from evil by virtue of his holy office, follows it, kills it and eats it. Among the Patâris in cholera epidemics the elders of the village and the Ojha wizard feed a black fowl with grain and drive it beyond the boundary, ordering it to take the plague with it. If the resident of another village finds such a fowl and eats it, cholera comes with it into his village. Hence, when disease prevails, people are very cautious about meddling with strange fowls. When these animals are sent off, a little oil, red lead, and a woman's forehead spangle are put upon it, a decoration which, perhaps, points to a survival of an actual sacrifice to appease the demon of disease. When such an animal comes into a village, the Baiga takes it to the local shrine, worships it and then passes it on quietly outside the boundary. Among the Kharwârs, when rinderpest attacks the cattle, they take a black cock, put some red lead on its head, some antimony on its eyes, a spangle on its forehead, and fixing a pewter bangle to its leg, let it loose, calling to the disease--"Mount on the fowl and go elsewhere into the ravines and thickets; destroy the sin!" This dressing up of the scape animal in a woman's ornaments and trinkets is almost certainly a relic of some grosser form of expiation in which a human being was sacrificed. We have another survival of the same practice in the Panjâb custom, which directs that when cholera prevails, a man of the Chamâr or currier caste, one of the hereditary menials, should be branded on the buttocks and turned out of the village. [356]

A curious modification of the ordinary scape animal, of which it is unnecessary to give any more instances, comes from Kulu. [357] "The people occasionally perform an expiatory ceremony with the object of removing ill-luck or evil influence, which is supposed to be brooding over the hamlet. The godling (Deota) of the place is, as usual, first consulted through his disciple (Chela) and declares himself also under the influence of a charm and advises a feast, which is given in the evening at the temple. Next morning a man goes round from house to house, a creel on his back, into which each family throws all sorts of odds and ends, parings of nails, pinches of salt, bits of old iron, handfuls of grain, etc. The whole community then turns out and perambulates the village, at the same time stretching an unbroken thread round it, fastened to pegs at the four corners. This done, the man with the creel carries it down to the river bank and empties the contents therein, and a sheep, fowl, and some small animals are sacrificed on the spot. Half the sheep is the property of the man who dares to carry the creel, and he is also entertained from house to house on the following night."

It is obvious that this exactly corresponds with the old English custom of sin-eating. Thus we read: [358]--"Within the memory of our fathers, in Shropshire, when a person died, there was a notice given to an old sire (for so they called him), who presently repaired to the place where the deceased lay, and stood before the door of the house, when some of the family came out and furnished him with a cricket on which he sat down facing the door. Then they gave him a groat, which he put in his pocket; a crust of bread, which he ate; and a full bowl of ale, which he drank off at a draught. After this he got out from the cricket and pronounced, with a composed gesture, the ease and rest of the soul departed, for which he would pawn his own soul."

There are other Indian customs based on the same principle. [359] Thus, in the Ambâla District a Brâhman named Nathu stated "that he had eaten food out of the hand of the Râja of Bilâspur, after his death, and that in consequence he had for the space of one year been placed on the throne at Bilâspur. At the end of the year he had been given presents, including a village, and had then been turned out of Bilâspur territory and forbidden apparently to return. Now he is an outcast among his co-religionists, as he has eaten food out of the dead man's hand." So at the funeral ceremonies of the late Rânî of Chamba, it is said that rice and ghi were placed in the hands of the corpse, which a Brâhman consumed on payment of a fee. The custom has given rise to a class of outcast Brâhmans in the Hill States about Kângra. In another account of the funeral rites of the Rânî of Chamba, it is added that after the feeding of the Brâhman, as already described, "a stranger, who had been caught beyond Chamba territory, was given the costly wrappings round the corpse, a new bed and a change of raiment, and then told to depart, and never to show his face in Chamba again." At the death of a respectable Hindu the clothes and other belongings of the dead man are, in the same way, given to the Mahâbrâhman or funeral priest. This seems to be partly based on the principle that he, by using these articles, passes them on for the use of the deceased in the land of death; but the detestation and contempt felt for this class of priest may be, to some extent, based on the idea that by the use of these articles he takes upon his head the sins of the dead man. [360]

Again, writing of the customs prevailing among the Râjput tribes of Oudh which practise female infanticide, Gen. Sleeman writes: [361]--"The infant is destroyed in the room where it was born, and there buried. The room is then plastered over with cow-dung, and on the thirteenth day after, the village or family priest must cook and eat his food in this room. He is provided with wood, ghi, barley, rice, and sesamum. He boils the rice, barley, and sesamum in a brass vessel, throws the ghi over them when they are dressed, and eats the whole. This is considered as a Homa or burnt offering, and by eating it in that place, the priest is supposed to take the whole Hatya or sin upon himself, and to cleanse the family from it."

So, in Central India the Gonds in November assemble at the shrine of Gansyâm Deo to worship him. Sacrifices of fowls and spirits, or a pig, occasionally, according to the size of the village, are offered, and Gansyâm Deo is said to descend on the head of one of the worshippers, who is suddenly seized with a kind of fit, and after staggering about for a while, rushes off into the wildest jungles, where the popular theory is that, if not pursued and brought back, he would inevitably die of starvation, and become a raving lunatic. As it is, after being brought back by one or two men, he does not recover his senses for one or two days. The idea is that one man is thus singled out as a scapegoat for the sins of the rest of the village.

In the final stage we find the scape animal merging into a regular expiatory sacrifice. Other examples will be given in another connection of the curious customs, like that of the Irish and Manxland rites of hunting the wren, which are almost certainly based on the principle of a sacrifice. Here it may be noted that at one of their festivals, the Bhûmij used to drive two male buffaloes into a small enclosure, while the Râja and his suite used to witness the proceedings. They first discharged arrows at the animals, and the tormented and enraged beasts fell to and gored each other, while arrow after arrow was discharged. When the animals were past doing very much mischief, the people rushed in and hacked them to pieces with axes. This custom is now discontinued. [362]

Similarly in the Hills, at the Nand Ashtamî, or feast in honour of Nanda, the foster father of Krishna, a buffalo is specially fed with sweetmeats, and, after being decked with a garland round the neck, is worshipped. The headman of the village then lays a sword across its neck and the beast is let loose, when all proceed to chase it, pelt it with stones, and hack it with knives until it dies. It is curious that this savage rite is carried out in connection with the worship of the Krishna Cultus, in which blood sacrifice finds no place. [363]

In the same part of the country the same rite is performed after a death, on the analogy of the other instances, which have been already quoted. When a man dies, his relations assemble at the end of the year in which the death occurred, and the nearest male relative dances naked (another instance of the nudity charm, to which reference has been already made) with a drawn sword in his hand, to the music of a drum, in which he is assisted by others for a whole day and night. The following day a buffalo is brought and made intoxicated with Bhang or Indian hemp, and spirits, and beaten to death with sticks, stones and weapons.

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The Popular Religion and Folk-Lore of Northern India, Vol. 1 (of 2)Chapter III: The Godlings of Disease (2)

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