A
CASE OF MODERN WITCHCRAFT
THE
part played by the ex-witch in occult attack is very marked. Again and
again do the investigations of independent psychics point to witchcraft in a previous
incarnation when trouble of this sort is afoot. The motive is nearly
always vengeance, but there is also good reason to believe that the
projection of the astral body takes place involuntarily during sleep,
and is not deliberately willed by the offender. Very many people who are
at present psychics
and sensitives got their training in the covens of
medieval witchcraft, and for this reason experienced occultists are very
wary of the natural psychic, as distinguished from the initiate with his
technique of psychism. Where psychism and mental unbalance are found
conjoined with a malevolent disposition, there is strong presumption
that the cult of Diabolus is not far to seek.
A
curious set of happenings, in which I myself was one of the actors,
throws a good deal of light on this by no means uncommon occurrence. It
was in the early days of my interest in occultism, when I was still
buying nay experience by the expensive but effectual method of running
my head into obstacles, I made the acquaintance of a woman who was
interested in psychic matters. She was a person of the most extreme
sensitiveness to anything unclean or ugly, fastidious to a degree in her
personal habits, living almost exclusively on uncooked vegetarian foods,
even refusing eggs as too stimulating. Although not an animal lover, she
was morbidly humanitarian, reading with gusto those papers which give
lurid and detailed descriptions of vivisection experiments. Had I been
older and wiser I should have recognised the significance of her
ultra-cleanliness and ultra-sensitiveness as marking the ab-reaction of
a sadistic temperament - sadism being a pathology of the emotional
nature in which the sex instinct takes the form of an impulse to inflict
pain. Not having learnt then many things which I now know, I looked upon
her characteristics as indicative of an exalted spirituality.
At the time I knew her she was verging on a breakdown which was alleged
to be due to overwork, and she was very anxious to get away from cities
and back to nature. I was just leaving London
to take up my residence at an occult college which was hidden away in
the sandy fastnesses of the Hampshire barrens. In the innocence of my
heart I suggested that she might come down there and help with the
domestic duties. The suggestion was acted upon, and a few days after my
own arrival Miss L. joined us. She seemed quite normal, made herself
agreeable, and was well liked. One incident, however, in the light of
subsequent events, was significant. On getting out of the ancient fly in
which she had driven from the station, she immediately went and patted
the still more ancient horse that drew it. That beast, usually sunk in
an apathy from which he was with difficulty roused when action was
required of him, galvanised into life at her touch as if she had stung
him. He threw up his head, backed, snorted, and nearly turned the
equipage over in the ditch, to the amazement of his jehu, who declared
he had never been known to do such a thing before, and viewed our
visitor with disfavour.
Miss L., however, appeared
quite normal, made herself agreeable, and was given a friendly reception
by the humans at any rate.
That night I was awakened by nightmare, a thing to which I am not
usually subject. I struggled with a weight on my chest, and even after
consciousness had fully returned, the room seemed full of evil. I
performed such simple banishing formula as I knew, and peace was
restored.
At breakfast next morning an assembly of blear-eyed people met together,
complaining of having passed disturbed nights. We compared notes, and
found we had all, some six or seven of us, had similar nightmares, and
proceeded to exchange experiences. The effect of this upon Miss L. was
curious. She squirmed upon her chair as if it had suddenly become
red-hot and said with much emphasis:
"These things should not be discussed, it is most unwholesome."
Out of deference to her feelings we desisted. But
presently up to the open window came another member of our community, a
woman who slept in an open-air shelter at some little distance from the
house. We enquired after her health, as usual, and she replied that she
was not feeling very well, as she had slept badly, and proceeded to
recount the same nightmare as the rest of us. Later on in the morning,
another lady, who had a house a little way down the road, arrived, and
she in her turn told of a similar nightmare.
These nightmares continued, on and off for the next few days, to afflict
different members of the community. They were vague and nebulous, and
there was nothing we could pitch upon for diagnostic purposes, and we
put it down to indigestion caused by the village baker's version of war
bread.
Then one day I had a quarrel with Miss L. She had conceived a "crush"
for me; I have a constitutional repulsion for crushes and give them
scant politeness, and she complained bitterly of my lack of
responsiveness. What ever may be the rights and wrongs of the case, I
had roused her resentment in good earnest. That night I was afflicted
with the most
violent nightmare I have ever had in my life, waking from
sleep with the terrible sense of oppression on my chest, as if someone
were holding me down, or lying upon me. I saw distinctly
the head of Miss L., reduced to the size of an orange, floating in the
air at the foot of my bed, and snapping its teeth at me. It was the most
malignant thing I have ever seen.
Still not attaching any psychic significance to my experiences, and
being firmly convinced that the local baker was responsible, I told no
one of my dream, thinking it one of those things that are better kept to
oneself; but when the members of the community came to talk matters over
in the light of subsequent events, we found that two other people had
had similar experiences.
A
night or two later, however, as it came to bed-time, I was overcome with
a sense of impending evil, as if something dangerous were lurking in the
bushes around the house threatening attack. So strong was this sensation
that I came down from my room and went all round the house, testing the
catches of the windows to make sure that all was secure.
Miss L. heard me, and called out
to know what I was doing. I told her of my feelings.
"You silly child," she said, "it is no use latching the windows, the
danger is not outside the house but in it. Go to bed, and be sure and
lock your door."
She would give no answer to my questions except to reiterate that I
should lock my door. This was the first night I had slept in that house,
previously having been in a cottage on the opposite side of the road.
I
did not lock my door because the night was intolerably hot and the room
and the window small. I compromised, however, by putting an enamel
slop-pail at a strategic spot in the fairway, trusting that any intruder
would fall over it and give the alarm.
Nothing happened, and I slept quietly.
Next morning, however, the storm broke. Miss L. and I were peacefully at
work in the kitchen when she suddenly caught up a carving-knife and
started after me, as mad as a March hare. Fortunately for me I had in my
hands a large saucepan full of freshly boiled greens, and I used this as
a weapon of defence, and we danced round the kitchen table, slopping hot
cabbage-water in all directions.
We neither of us made a sound; I fended her off with the hot and sooty
saucepan, and she slashed at me with an unpleasantly large
carving-knife. At a psychological moment in walked the head of the
community. He took in the situation at a glance, and handled it by the
tactful method of scolding us both impartially for making so much noise
and telling us to get on with our work. Miss L. finished whatever she
was doing with the carver, I dished up the cabbage, and the incident
passed off quietly.
After lunch Miss L. experienced the reaction from her excitement and
went to her room completely prostrated with exhaustion. I was somewhat
perturbed. Although used to mental cases, and therefore not as disturbed
by the recent fracas as anyone else might have been, I did not relish
the prospect of being the housemate of a dangerous lunatic who was under
no sort of control. The head of the community, however, said there was
no cause for alarm, he would soon have the case in hand. He went up to
the bath room, filled a soap-dish with water from the tap, made certain
passes over it, and dipping his finger in the water, proceeded to draw a
five-pointed star upon the threshold of Miss L.'s room.
Miss L. made no attempt to leave her room until forty-eight
hours later when he fetched her out himself.
As he had promised, he soon had her in hand. He had
several long talks with her, at which I was not present, and at the end
of a few days a very chastened Miss L. began to go about her household
duties again. There were relapses, and there were struggles, but in the
course of a few weeks she became comparatively normal, and when I met
her again some eighteen months later there had been no relapse.
Two curious incidents occurred during the period of her treatment at the
hands of this man, an adept if ever there was
one. The house in which she had a room was a very old one,
and the front door exceedingly massive. It was secured at night by two
enormous bolts that extended right across it, a chain that could have
moored a barge, and a huge lock with a key the size of a trowel. When
the door was opened in the morning it acted as an alarm clock for the
entire village. It creaked, it groaned, and it clanged. Yet night after
night we came down in the morning to find this door standing ajar. We
all slept with our doors open on to the small landing. To go down the
ancient, creaking stairs was like walking on organ-stops. The back door
was a modern affair, which could have been opened easily. The windows
were modern casements of the most gimcrack description. Who opened the
heavy front door, and why?
We exchanged recriminations several mornings at break fast as to who had
left the door open the night before, but no one could ever be convicted
of the blame. Finally the matter came to the knowledge of the head of
the group.
"I will soon put a stop to that," he said, and each night he re-sealed
Miss L.'s room with the pentagram. We had no more trouble with the front
door coming open after that.
While he was dealing with Miss L. he made a practice of sealing the
threshold of his own room in the same way, only in this case he drew the
pentagram point outwards, to prevent Miss D. from coming in; whereas
when he sealed her room, he put its point inwards, to prevent her coming
out. She did not know this, nor was it likely to reach her ears
indirectly, for he was very uncommunicative, I only knew that he was
sealing his room because I chanced to see him doing it.
Nevertheless, one day I heard a knock at my door, and there was Miss L.
with her arms full of clean linen. She asked me if I would be good
enough to take it into the room of the head of the community, and put it
away. I asked her why she did not do so herself, for I knew he was out,
and it was her work to put away the linen. She replied that she had been
to his room for that purpose, but there was a psychic barrier across the
threshold that prevented her entering.
She also asked me, on several occasions, to put inside my frock out of
sight a little silver cross that I habitually wore, as she said she could not bear the
sight of it. This cross I had purchased just before coming to this
occult college, and had taken it to a priest of my acquaintance to be
blessed, for I had not been altogether easy in my mind concerning the
nature of the group I was joining, and during the early days of my
association with it was poised on tiptoe, as it were, ready for instant
flight. Naturally I had kept my own council concerning the psychic
precautions I had taken against my new friends, and no one was aware
that the cross had been specially magnetised against psychic attack.
Nevertheless, the woman who would have attacked if she could, felt its
influence and feared it.
Auto-suggestion and imagination play so large a part in so-called
psychic impressions that one is chary of accepting confirmatory
testimony from a psychic who knows what is expected of him, but a
spontaneous reaction is in my opinion evidential.
When the treatment of Miss L. had progressed some way towards her final
recovery, much interesting information was elicited. She told us that
she had distinct memories of dealings with black magic in her previous
lives. This, she said, had been confirmed by several independent
psychics, and I would certainly have been willing to add my testimony to
theirs had I been asked. As a child, she used to day dream that she was
a witch, willing the death or misfortune of those who annoyed her, and
she also averred, though whether this was true or not I cannot say, that
her wishes were so effectual that she was frightened and tried to
abandon the practice. She also volunteered that she was in the habit of
visualising herself standing before people she was angry with, scolding
them, and projecting malignant force at them. This, of course, would
explain our nightmares. She also said that she had been in the habit of
attacking her mother and sister in this way, and had made her sister
very ill, so that they now refused to have her in the house. This
statement was later confirmed by the mother.
She told us that she felt as if she were two distinct persons, her
normal self being spiritually-minded, intensely compassionate and
idealistic.
Her other, and lower self, which
came to the surface when she was crossed, upset, or over tired, being
intensely malicious and subject to paroxysms of hate and cruelty.
These characteristics had been particularly marked when she was little.
But as she grew older she recognised the wrongfulness of them, and her
lofty idealism represented her endeavour to rise above them. This
endeavour was, I
am
convinced, an honest one; unfortunately it was not always successful.
She referred to the incident in which she told me to lock my door, and
said she had done so in the hope of affording me
some measure of protection against the astral projection
in which she knew she was tempted to indulge.
At
first sight her case had looked like one, of obsession, and had been so
diagnosed by one or two members of the community, but wise handling
revealed otherwise.
This case reveals another interesting point in that, true to the
witch-tradition, she had a horror of sacred symbols. She would not occupy
a room where there was a picture of a religious subject. Nothing would
induce her to wear any piece of jewelry in the form of a cross, and it was
impossible for her to enter a church.
This case has many points of interest, especially in the fact that what
was apparently a case of well-marked insanity was cleared up by occult
methods.