For your convenience, use the navigation menu to your side (or below) to jump between chapters. Don't worry if you're at the bottom of the page, the back to top button will take you back up!
Chapter Menu
Section Menu
CHAPTER VI VAMPIRISM IN HUNGARY, BAVARIA, AND SILESIA
The Hungarians believe that those who have
been passive vampires in life become active
vampires after death; that those whose
blood has been sucked in life by vampires
become themselves vampires after death.
In many districts the belief also prevails
that the only way to prevent this calamity
happening is for the threatened victim
to eat some earth from the grave of the
attacking vampire, and to smear his own
body with blood from the body of that
vampire.
That the belief in vampirism is still
current in Hungary was evidenced recently.
The Daily Telegraph of February 15th,
1912, contained the following paragraph:
“A Buda-Pesth telegram to the Messaggero
reports a terrible instance of superstition.[80]
A boy of fourteen died some days ago in a
small village. A farmer, in whose employment
the boy had been, thought that the
ghost of the latter appeared to him every
night. In order to put a stop to these
supposed visitations, the farmer, accompanied
by some friends, went to the cemetery
one night, stuffed three pieces of garlic
and three stones in the mouth, and thrust
a stake through the corpse, fixing it to the
ground. This was to deliver themselves from
the evil spirit, as the credulous farmer and
his friends stated when they were arrested.”
In 1732, in a village in Hungary, in the
space of three months, seventeen persons
of different ages died of vampirism, some
without being ill, and others after languishing
two or three days. It is reported that a
girl named Stanoska, daughter of the Heyduk
Jotiutso, who went to bed in perfect
health, awoke in the middle of the night
trembling violently and uttering terrible
shrieks, declaring that the son of the Heyduk
Millo, who had been dead nine weeks, had
nearly strangled her in her sleep. She fell
into a languid state and died at the end
of three days. Young Millo was exhumed
and found to be a vampire.
[81]
Calmet, in his work The Phantom World,
relates the following: “About fifteen years
ago a soldier who was billeted at the house
of a Haidamaque peasant, on the frontiers
of Hungary, as he was one day sitting at
table near his host, the master of the house,
saw a person he did not know come in and
sit down to table also with them. The
master of the house was strangely frightened
at this, as were the rest of the company.
The soldier knew not what to think
of it, being ignorant of the matter in question.
But the master of the house being
dead the very next day, the soldier inquired
what it meant. They told him it was the
body of the father of the host, who had
been dead and buried for ten years, who
had thus come to sit down next to him,
and had announced and caused his death.
“The soldier informed the regiment of it
in the first place, and the regiment gave
notice of it to the general officers, who
commissioned the Count de Cabreras, captain
of the regiment of Alandetti infantry,
to make information concerning this circumstance.
Having gone to the place with
some other officers, a surgeon and an
auditor, they heard the depositions of all[82]
the people belonging to the house, who
decided unanimously that the ghost was
the father of the master of the house, and
that all the soldier had said and reported
was the exact truth, which was confirmed
by all the inhabitants of the village.
“In consequence of this the corpse of
the spectre was exhumed and found to be
like that of a man who had just expired,
and his blood like that of a living man.
The Count de Cabreras had his head cut off
and caused him to be laid again in the tomb.
He also took information concerning other
similar ghosts: among others, of a man dead
more than thirty years who had come back
three times to his house at meal-time.
The first time he had sucked the blood from
the neck of his own brother, the second
time from one of his sons, and the third
time from one of the servants in the house;
and all three died of it instantly and on
the spot. Upon this deposition the commissary
had this man taken out of his grave,
and finding that, like the first, his blood was
in a fluidic state like that of a living person,
he ordered them to run a large nail into
his temple and then to lay him again in
the grave.
[83]
“He caused a third to be burned who
had been buried more than sixteen years
and had sucked the blood and caused the
death of two of his sons. The commissary
having made his report to the general
officers, was deputed to the Emperor,
who commanded that some officers both
of war and of justice, some physicians and
surgeons and some learned men should be
sent to examine the causes of these extraordinary
events. The person who related
these particulars to us had heard them
from the Count de Cabreras at Fribourg in
1730.”
Raufft tells the story of a man named
“Peter Plogojowitz, an inhabitant of a
village in Hungary called Kisolova, who,
after he had been buried more than ten
years, appeared by night to several persons
in the village, while they were asleep, and
squeezed their throats in such a manner
that they expired within twenty-four hours.
There died in this way no less than nine
persons in eight days; and the widow of
this Plogojowitz deposed that she herself
had been visited by him since his death, and
that his errand was to demand his shoes;
which frightened her so much that she at[84]
once left Kisolova and went to live somewhere
else.
“These circumstances determined the inhabitants
of the village to dig up the body
of Plogojowitz and burn it, in order to put
a stop to such troublesome visits. Accordingly
they applied to the commanding
officer of the Emperor’s troops in the
district of Gradisca, in the kingdom of
Hungary, and to the incumbent of the place,
for leave to dig up the corpse. They both
made a great many scruples about granting
it; but the peasants declared plainly that if
they were not permitted to dig up this accursed
carcase, which they were fully convinced
was a vampire, they would be forced
to leave the village and settle where they
could.
“The officer who gave this account, seeing
that there was no hindering them either
by fair means or foul, came in person,
accompanied by the minister of Gradisca,
to Kisolova, and they were both present
at the digging up of the corpse, which they
found to be free from any bad smell, and
perfectly sound, as if it had been alive,
except that the tip of the nose was a little
dry and withered. The beard and hair were[85]
grown fresh and a new set of nails had sprung
up in the room of the old ones that had fallen
off. Under the former skin, which looked
pale and dead, there appeared a new one,
of a natural fresh colour; and the hands
and feet were as entire as if they belonged
to a person in perfect health. They observed
also that the mouth of the vampire was full
of fresh blood, which the people were
persuaded had been sucked by him from
the persons he had killed.
“The officer and the divine having diligently
examined into all the circumstances,
the people, being fired with fresh indignation,
and growing more fully persuaded
that this carcase was the real cause of the
death of their countrymen, ran immediately
to fetch a sharp stake, which being driven
into his breast, there issued from the
wound, and also from his nose and mouth,
a great quantity of fresh, ruddy blood;
and something which indicated a sort of
life, was observed to come from him. The
peasants then laid the body upon a pile
of wood, and burnt it to ashes.”
Calmet says he was told by M. de Vassimont,
who was sent to Moravia by Leopold,
first Duke of Lorraine, that he was informed[86]
by public report that it was common
enough in that country to see men who had
died some time before present themselves
in a party and sit down to the table with
persons of their acquaintance without saying
anything, but that nodding to one of the
party he would infallibly die some days
afterwards. M. de Vassimont received confirmation
of this story from several persons,
amongst others an old curé who said he
had seen more than one instance of it.
The priest added that the inhabitants had
been delivered from these troublesome
spectres owing to the fact that their corpses
had been taken up and burned or destroyed
in some way or other.
At the beginning of the eighteenth century
several vampire investigations were held
at the instigation of the Bishop of Olmutz.
The village of Liebava was particularly
infested, and a Hungarian placed himself
on the top of the church tower and just
before midnight saw a well-known vampire
issue from his tomb, and, leaving his
winding-sheet behind him, proceed on his
rounds. The Hungarian descended from
the tower and took away the sheet and
ascended the tower again. When the vampire[87]
returned he flew into a great fury
because of the absence of the sheet. The
Hungarian called to him to come up to the
tower and fetch it. The vampire mounted
the ladder, but just before he reached the
top the Hungarian gave him a blow on the
head which threw him down to the churchyard.
His assailant then descended, cut
off the vampire’s head with a hatchet, and
from that time the vampire was no more
heard of.
In 1672 there dwelt in the market town
of Kring, in the Archduchy of Krain, a man
named George Grando, who died, and was
buried by Father George, a monk of St
Paul, who, on returning to the widow’s
house, saw Grando sitting behind the door.
The monk and the neighbours fled. Soon
stories began to circulate of a dark figure
being seen to go about the streets by night,
stopping now and then to tap at the door
of a house, but never to wait for an answer.
In a little while people began to die mysteriously
in Kring, and it was noticed that the
deaths occurred in the houses at which the
spectred figure had tapped its signal. The
widow Grando also complained that she
was tormented by the spirit of her husband,[88]
who night after night threw her into a deep
sleep with the object of sucking her blood.
The Supan, or chief magistrate, of Kring
decided to take the usual steps to ascertain
whether Grando was a vampire. He called
together some of the neighbours, fortified
them with a plentiful supply of spirituous
liquor, and they sallied off with torches and
a crucifix.
Grando’s grave was opened, and the body
was found to be perfectly sound and not
decomposed, the mouth being opened with a
pleasant smile, and there was a rosy flush
on the cheeks. The whole party were
seized with terror and hurried back to
Kring, with the exception of the Supan.
The second visit was made in company
with a priest, and the party also took a
heavy stick of hawthorn sharpened to a
point. The grave and body were found
to be exactly as they had been left. The
priest kneeled down solemnly and held
the crucifix aloft: “O vampire, look at
this,” he said; “here is Jesus Christ who
loosed us from the pains of hell and died
for us upon the tree!”
He went on to address the corpse, when it
was seen that great tears were rolling down[89]
the vampire’s cheeks. A hawthorn stake
was brought forward, and as often as they
strove to drive it through the body the
sharpened wood rebounded, and it was not
until one of the number sprang into the
grave and cut off the vampire’s head that
the evil spirit departed with a loud shriek
and a contortion of the limbs.
Similar stories to this were continually
being circulated from the borders of Hungary
to the Baltic.
At one time the spectre of a village
herdsman near Kodom, in Bavaria, began to
appear to several inhabitants of the place,
and either in consequence of their fright or
from some other cause, every person who
had seen the apparition died during the
week afterwards. Driven to despair, the
peasants disinterred the corpse and pinned
it to the ground with a long stake. The
same night he appeared again, plunging
people into convulsions of fright, and suffocated
several of them. Then the village
authorities handed the body over to the
executioner, who caused it to be carried into
a field adjoining the cemetery, where it was
burned. The corpse howled like a madman,
kicking and tearing as if it had been alive.
[90]
When it was run through again with
sharp-pointed stakes, before the burning,
it uttered piercing cries and vomited masses
of crimson blood. The apparition of the
spectre ceased only after the corpse had been
reduced to ashes.
Fortis, in his Travels into Dalmatia, says
that the Moslacks have no doubt as to
the existence of vampires, and attribute to
them, as in Transylvania, the sucking of the
blood of infants. Therefore, when a man
dies, and he is suspected of vampirism, or
of being a vukodlak—the term they employ—they
cut his hams and prick his whole
body with pins, pretending that he will be
unable to walk about after this operation
has been performed. There are even
instances of Moolacchi who, imagining
that they may possibly thirst for human
blood after death, particularly the blood
of children, entreat their heirs, and
sometimes even make them promise, to
treat them in this manner directly after
death.
Dr Henry More, in his Antidote against
Atheism, argues for the reality of vampires,
and relates the following stories.
“A shoemaker of Breslau, in Silesia, in[91]
1591 terminated his life by cutting his
throat. His family, however, spread abroad
the report that he had died of apoplexy,
which enabled them to bury him in the
ordinary way and save the disgrace of his
being interred as a suicide. Despite this,
however, the rumour got abroad that the
man had committed suicide. It was also
reported that his ghost had been seen at
the bedsides of several persons, and the
rumours and reports spreading, it was decided
by the authorities to disinter the body.
It had been buried on September 22nd,
1591, and the grave was opened on April
18th, 1592. The body was found to be
entire; it was not in any way putrid, the
joints were flexible, there was no ill smell,
the wound in the throat was visible and there
was no corruption in it. There was also
observed what was claimed to be a magical
mark on the great toe of the right foot—an
excrescence in the form of a rose. The
body was kept above ground for six days,
during which time the apparitions still
appeared. It was then buried beneath
the gallows, but the apparition still came
to the bedsides of the alarmed inhabitants,
pinching and suffocating people, and leaving[92]
marks of its fingers plainly visible on the
flesh. A fortnight afterwards the body
was again dug up, when it was observed
to have sensibly increased its size since
its last interment. Then the head, arms,
and legs of the corpse were cut off;
the heart, which was as fresh and entire
as that in a freshly killed calf, was
also taken out of the body. The whole
body thus dismembered was consigned
to the flames and the ashes thrown into
the river. The apparition was never seen
afterwards. A servant of the deceased
man was also said to have acted in a
similar manner after her death. Her remains
were also dug up and burned, and
then her apparition ceased to torment the
inhabitants.”
“Johannes Cuntius, a citizen and alderman
of Pentach, in Silesia, when about sixty
years of age, died somewhat suddenly, as
the result of a kick from his horse. At the
moment of his death a black cat rushed
into the room, jumped on to the bed, and
scratched violently at his face. Both at
the time of his death and that of his funeral
a great tempest arose—the wind and
snow ‘made men’s bodies quake and their[93]
teeth chatter in their heads.’ The storm
is said to have ceased with startling suddenness
as the body was placed under the ground.
Immediately after the burial, however,
stories began to circulate of the appearance
of a phantom which spoke to people
in the voice of Cuntius. Remarkable tales
were told of the consumption of milk from
jugs and bowls, of milk being turned into
blood, of old men being strangled, children
taken out of cradles, altar-cloths being
soiled with blood, and poultry killed and
eaten. Eventually it was decided to disinter
the body. It was found that all the
bodies buried above that of Cuntius had
become putrefied and rotten, but his skin
was tender and florid, his joints by no
means stiff, and when a staff was put
between his fingers they closed around it
and held it fast in their grasp. He could
open and shut his eyes, and when a vein
in his leg was punctured the blood sprang
out as fresh as that of a living person.
This happened after the body had been in
the grave for about six months. Great
difficulty was experienced when the body
was cut up and dismembered, by the order
of the authorities, by reason of the resistance[94]
offered; but when the task was completed,
and the remains consigned to the
flames, the spectre ceased to molest the
natives or interfere with their slumbers or
health.”
CHAPTER VII VAMPIRISM IN SERVIA AND BULGARIA
The document which gives the particulars
of the following remarkable story is signed
by three regimental surgeons and formally
countersigned by the lieutenant-colonel and
sub-lieutenant, and bears the date June
7th, 1732, with the address Meduegna,
near Belgrade.
“In the spring of 1727 there returned
from the Levant to the village of Meduegna,
near Belgrade, one Arnod Paole, who, in
a few years’ military service and varied
adventure, had amassed enough to purchase
a cottage and an acre or two of land in his
native place, where he gave out that he
meant to pass the remainder of his days.
He kept his word. Arnod had yet scarcely
reached the prime of manhood; and though
he must have encountered the rough as
well as the smooth of life, and have mingled[96]
with many a wild and reckless companion,
yet his natural good disposition and honest
principles had preserved him unscathed in
the scenes he had passed through. At all
events, such were the thoughts expressed
by his neighbours as they discussed his
return and settlement among them in the
stube of the village hof. Nor did the
frank and open countenance of Arnod, his
obliging habits and steady conduct, argue
their judgments incorrect. Nevertheless,
there was something occasionally noticeable
in his ways, a look and tone that betrayed
inward disquiet. He would often
refuse to join his friends, or on some sudden
plea abruptly quit their society. And he
still more unaccountably, and it seemed
systematically, avoided meeting his pretty
neighbour, Nina, whose father occupied
the next farm to his own. At the age of
seventeen Nina was as charming a picture
of youth, cheerfulness, innocence, and confidence
as you could have seen in all the
world. You could not look into her limpid
eye, which steadily returned your gaze, without
seeing to the bottom of the pure and
transparent spring of her thoughts. Why
then did Arnod shrink from meeting her?[97]
He was young; had a little property; had
health and industry; and he had told his
friends he had formed no ties in other
lands. Why then did he avoid the fascination
of the pretty Nina, who seemed a being
made to chase from any brow the clouds
of gathering care? But he did so, yet
less and less resolutely, for he felt the
charm of her presence. Who could have
done otherwise? And how long he resisted
the impulse of his fondness for
the innocent girl who sought to cheer his
fits of depression!
“And they were to be united—were betrothed;
yet still the anxious gloom would
fitfully overcast his countenance, even in
the sunshine of those hours.
“‘What is it, dear Arnod, that makes
you sad? It cannot be on my account, I
know, for you were sad before you noticed
me; and that, I think surely, first made
me notice you.’
“‘Nina,’ he answered, ‘I have done, I
fear, a great wrong in trying to gain your
affections. Nina, I have a fixed impression
that I shall not live; yet, knowing this, I
have selfishly made my existence necessary
to your happiness.’
[98]
“‘How strangely you talk, dear Arnod!
Who in the village is stronger and healthier
than you? You feared no danger when
you were a soldier. What danger do you
fear as a villager of Meduegna?’
“‘It haunts me, Nina.’
“‘But, Arnod, you were sad before you
thought of me. Did you then fear to
die?’
“‘Oh, Nina, it is something worse than
death.’ And his vigorous frame shook
with agony.
“‘Arnod, I conjure you, tell me.’
“‘It was in Cossova this fate befell me.
Here you have hitherto escaped the terrible
scourge. But there they die, and the dead
visit the living. I experienced the first
frightful visitation, and I fled; but not
till I had sought his grave and executed
the dread expiation from the vampire.’
“Nina’s blood ran cold. She stood horror-stricken.
But her young heart soon mastered
her first despair. With a touching
voice she spoke: ‘Fear not, dear Arnod;
fear not now. I will be your shield, or I
will die with you!’
“And she encircled his neck with her
gentle arms, and returning hope shone, Iris-like,[99]
amid her falling tears. Afterwards they
found a reasonable ground for banishing
or allaying their apprehension in the lengthy
time which had elapsed since Arnod left
Cossova, during which no fearful visitant
had again approached him; and they
fondly protested that gave them security.
“One day about a week after this conversation
Arnod missed his footing when
on the top of a loaded hay-waggon, and
fell from it to the ground. He was picked
up insensible, and carried home, where,
after lingering a short time, he died. His
interment, as usual, followed immediately.
His fate was sad and premature. But
what pencil could paint Nina’s grief?
“Twenty or thirty days after his decease,
several in the neighbourhood complained
that they were haunted by the deceased
Arnod; and what was more to the purpose,
four of them died. The evil looked at
sceptically was bad enough, but aggravated
by the suggestions of superstition it spread
a panic through the whole district. To
allay the popular terror, and, if possible,
to get at the root of the evil, a determination
was come to publicly to disinter the
body of Arnod, with the view of ascertaining[100]
whether he really was a vampire, and,
in that event, of treating him conformably.
The day fixed for these proceedings was
the fortieth after his burial.
“It was on a grey morning in early
August that the commission visited the
cemetery of Meduegna, which, surrounded
with a wall of stone, lies sheltered by the
mountain that, rising in undulating green
slopes, irregularly planted with fruit-trees,
ends in an abrupt craggy ridge, covered
with underwood. The graves were, for
the most part, neatly kept, with borders
of box, or something like it, and flowers
between, and at the head of most, a small
wooden cross, painted black, bearing the
name of the tenant. Here and there a
stone had been raised. One of terrible
height, a single narrow slab, ornamented
with grotesque Gothic carvings, dominated
over the rest. Near this lay the grave of
Arnod Paole, towards which the party
moved. The work of throwing out the
earth was begun by the grey, careful
old sexton, who lived in the Leichenhaus
beyond the great crucifix. Near the grave
stood two military surgeons or feldscherers
from Belgrade, and a drummer-boy, who[101]
held their case of instruments. The boy
looked on with keen interest; and when
the coffin was exposed and rather roughly
drawn out of the grave, his pale face and
bright, intent eye showed how the scene
moved him. The sexton lifted the lid of
the coffin; the body had become inclined
to one side. Then, turning it straight:
‘Ha, ha! What? Your mouth not
wiped since last night’s work?’
“The spectators shuddered; the
drummer-boy sank forward, fainting, and
upset the instrument case, scattering its
contents; the senior surgeon, infected
with the horror of the scene, repressed
a hasty exclamation. They threw water
on the drummer-boy and he recovered,
but would not leave the spot. Then they
inspected the body of Arnod. It looked
as if it had not been dead a day. After
handling it, the scarfskin came off, but
below were new skin and new nails! How
could they have come there but from this
foul feeding? The case was clear enough:
there lay before them the thing they
dreaded—the vampire! So, without more
ado, they simply drove a stake through
poor Arnod’s chest, whereupon a quantity[102]
of blood gushed forth, and the corpse
uttered a dreadful groan.
“‘Murder! Murder!’ shrieked the
drummer-boy, as he rushed wildly, with
convulsed gestures, from the scene.”
The body of Arnod was then burnt to
ashes, which were returned to the grave.
The authorities further staked and burnt
the bodies of the four others who were
supposed to have been infected by Arnod.
No mention is made of the state in which
they were found. The adoption of these
decisive measures failed, however, entirely
to extinguish the evil, which continued
still to hang about the village. About five
years afterwards it had again become very
rife, and many died through it; whereupon
the authorities determined to make another
and a complete clearance of the vampire
in the cemetery, and with that object
they had all the graves, to which suspicion
attached, opened, and their contents
officially anatomised, and the following are
abridgments of the medical reports:—
1. A woman of the name of Stana,
twenty years of age, who had died three
months before, of a three days’ illness
following her confinement. She had before[103]
her death avowed that she had anointed
herself with the blood of a vampire, to
liberate herself from his persecution.
Nevertheless she had died. Her body was
entirely free from decomposition. On opening
it the chest was found filled with recently
effused blood, and the bowels had
exactly the appearance of sound health.
The skin and nails of her hands and feet
were loose and came off, but underneath
were new skin and nails.
2. A woman of the name of Miliza, who
had died at the end of a three months’
illness. The body had been buried ninety
and odd days. In the chest was liquid
blood. The viscera were as in the former
instance. The body was declared by a
heyduk, who recognised it, to be in better
condition and fatter than it had been in
the woman’s legitimate lifetime.
3. The body of a child eight years old,
that had likewise been buried ninety days;
it was in the vampire condition.
4. The son of a heyduk, named Milloc,
sixteen years old. The body had lain in
the grave nine weeks. He had died after
three days’ indisposition, and was in the
condition of a vampire.
[104]
5. Joachim, likewise the son of a heyduk,
seventeen years old. He had died after
three days’ illness; had been buried eight
weeks and some days; was found in the
vampire state.
6. A man of the name of Rusha, who had
died of an illness of ten days’ duration and
had been six weeks buried, in whom likewise
fresh blood was found in the chest.
7. The body of a girl ten years of age
who had died two months before. It was
likewise in the vampire state, perfectly undecomposed,
with blood in the chest.
8. The body of the wife of one Hadnuck,
buried seven weeks before; and that of
her infant eight weeks old, buried only
twenty-one days. They were both in a
state of decomposition, though buried in
the same ground and closely adjoining the
others.
9. A servant, by name Rhade, twenty-three
years of age; he had died after an
illness of three months’ duration, and the
body had been buried five weeks. It was
in a state of decomposition.
10. The body of the heyduk Stanco,
sixty years of age, who had died six weeks
previously. There was much blood and[105]
other fluid in the chest and abdomen, and
the body was in a vampire condition.
11. Millac, a heyduk, twenty-five years old.
The body had been in the earth six weeks.
It was also in the vampire condition.
12. Stanjoika, the wife of a heyduk,
twenty years old; had died after an illness
of three days, and had been buried
eighteen. The countenance was florid.
There was blood in the chest and in the
heart. The viscera were perfectly sound,
the skin remarkably flush.
The vampire tradition in its original
loathsomeness, however, is to be found only
in the Bulgarian provinces, whither the
knowledge of the superstition was first
imported from Dalmatia and Albania. In
the former country the vampire is known
by the name of wukodlak.
St Clair and Brophy, in their work on
Bulgaria, state that in Bulgaria the vampire
is no longer a dead body possessed by
a demon, but a soul in revolt against the
inevitable principle of corporeal death. He
is detected by a hole in the tombstone
which is placed over his grave, which hole
is filled up by the medicine man with dirt
mixed with poisonous herbs.
[106]
Vampirism is claimed to be hereditary
as well as epidemic and endemic, and
vampires are also stated to be capable
of exercising considerable physical force.
Stories are told of men who have had their
jaws broken, as well as their limbs, as the
result of their struggles with vampires.
About 1863 there was a local epidemic
of vampirism in one of the villages of
Bulgaria, when the place became so infested
by them that the inhabitants were
forced to assemble together in two or
three houses, burn candles at night, and
watch by turns in order to avoid the
assaults made by the Obours, who lit up
the streets with their sparkles. Some of
the most enterprising of these threw their
shadows on the walls of the rooms where
the peasants were assembled through fear,
while others howled and shrieked and
swore outside the door, entered the abandoned
houses, spat blood on the floors,
turned everything topsy-turvy, and smeared
everything, even the pictures of the saints,
with cow-dung, until an old lady, suspected
of witchcraft, discovered and laid
the troublesome spirit, and afterwards the
village was free.
[107]
When the Bulgarian vampire has finished
his forty days’ apprenticeship to the world
of shadows, he rises from the tomb in
bodily form, and is able to pass himself off
as a human being living in the natural
manner.
In Slavonic countries the vampire is said
to be possessed of only one nostril, but
is credited with possessing a sharp point
at the end of his tongue, like the sting
of a bee.
In Bulgaria one method of abolishing
the vampire is said to be by bottling him.
The sorcerer, armed with the picture of
some saint, lies in ambush until he sees the
vampire pass, when he pursues him with
his picture. The vampire takes refuge in
a tree or on the roof of a house, but his
persecutor follows him up with the talisman,
driving him away from all shelter in
the direction of a bottle specially prepared,
in which is placed some favourite food of
the vampire. Having no other alternative,
he enters this prison, and is immediately
fastened down with a cork on the interior
of which is a fragment of an eikon or holy
picture. The bottle is then thrown into the
fire and the vampire disappears for ever.
[108]
In Bulgaria the vampire does not invariably
seem to have the thirst for human
blood, unless there happens to be a shortage
in his human food—a distinction which
marks him from the species found in other
countries.
CHAPTER VIII VAMPIRE BELIEF IN RUSSIA
The Slavonic belief in vampires is one of
the characteristic features of their creed.
The Little Russians hold that, if the vampire’s
hands have grown numb from remaining
long crossed in the grave, he makes
use of his teeth, which are like steel. When
he has gnawed his way with these through
all obstacles, he first destroys the babies
he finds in a house, and afterwards the older
inmates. If fine salt be scattered on the
floor of a room, the vampire’s footsteps
may be traced to his grave, in which he
will be found resting with rosy cheek and
gory mouth.
The Kashoubes say that when a vieszcy,
as they call a vampire, wakes from his sleep
within the grave he begins to gnaw his
hands and feet, and as he gnaws, first his
relatives, and then his neighbours, sicken[110]
and die. When he has finished his own
store of flesh, he rises at midnight and
destroys cattle or climbs a belfry and
sounds the bell. All who hear the ill-omened
tones will soon die. Generally he
sucks the blood of sleepers.
Ralston, in his Songs of the Russian
People, says that it is in the Ukraine and in
White Russia—so far as the Russian Empire
is concerned—that traditions are most rife
about this ghastly creation of morbid fancy,
and that the Little Russians attribute the
birth of a vampire to an unholy union
between a witch and a werwolf or a devil.
He relates the following as a specimen of the
vampire stories prevalent in the country:—
“A peasant was driving past a graveyard
after it had grown dark. After him came
running a stranger, dressed in a red shirt
and a new jacket, who said: ‘Stop!
Take me as your companion.’
“‘Pray take a seat.’
“They enter a village, drive up to this
and that house. Though the gates are wide
open, yet the stranger says, ‘Shut tight!’
for on those gates crosses have been branded.
They drive on to the very last house: the
gates are barred, and from them hangs a[111]
padlock weighing a score of pounds; but
there is no cross there, and the gates open
of their own accord.
“They go into the house: there on the
bench lie two sleepers—an old man and a
lad. The stranger takes a pail, places it
near the youth, and strikes him on the back;
immediately the back opens, and forth
flows rosy blood. The stranger fills the
pail full and drinks it dry. Then he fills
another pail with blood from the old man,
slakes his brutal thirst, and says to the
peasant: ‘It begins to grow light! Let
us go back to my dwelling.’
“In a twinkling they find themselves
at the graveyard. The vampire would have
clasped the peasant in his arms, but luckily
for him the cocks begin to crow, and the
corpse disappears. The next morning,
when folks come and look, the old man
and the lad are dead.”
According to the Servians and Bulgarians,
unclean spirits enter into the corpses of
malefactors and other evilly disposed persons,
who then become vampires. In some
places the jumping of a boy over the corpse
is considered as fatal as that of a cat.
There is a story told of a mother who lived[112]
in Saratof who cursed her son, and his body
remained free from corruption after burial
for a hundred years. When it was disinterred,
his aged mother, who is said to have
been still alive, pronounced his pardon, and,
at that very moment, the corpse crumbled
into dust.
The Russians say that, when driving a
stake into the body of a vampire, this must
be done by one single blow, as a second
blow will reanimate the corpse.
One group of Russian stories relate to the
sudden resuscitation shortly after death of
wizards and witches at midnight possessed
with the longing to eat the flesh of the
watchers around the bier. The stories
go that the body of the suspected witch
was generally enclosed in a coffin which was
secured with iron bands and carried to the
church, and a watcher was appointed to
read aloud from the Scriptures over the
coffin right through each night until burial.
It was also the duty of the watcher to draw
on the floor a magic circle, within which he
must stand and hold in his hand a hammer,
the ancient weapon of the thunder-god. If
the suspicion that the individual was a
wizard or witch was a correct one, a[113]
mighty wind would arise one night about
twelve o’clock, the iron bands of the coffin
would give way with a terrible crash, the
coffin-lid fall off, and the corpse leap forth
and, uttering a terrible screech, rush at the
watcher, who, if he had not taken the
prescribed precautions, would fall a victim
to the monster, and in the morning there
would be nothing left of him but his bare
bones. The following story of this character
is contained in the records of the
Kharkof government:—
“Once, in the days of old, there died a
terrible sinner. His body was taken into
the church, and the sacristan was told to
read some psalms over him. He took the
precaution to catch a cock and carry it with
him to the church. At midnight the dead
man leaped from his coffin, opened wide his
jaws, and rushed at his victim; but, at that
moment, the sacristan gave the bird a hard
pinch. The cock uttered his usual crow, and
at the same moment the dead man fell
backwards to the ground a numb, motionless
corpse.”
The following story is also given by
Ralston in his collection of Russian folk-stories:—
[114]
The Coffin Lid
“A moujik was driving along one night
with a load of pots. His horse grew tired,
and all of a sudden it came to a standstill
alongside of a graveyard. The moujik unharnessed
his horse and set it free to graze;
meanwhile he laid himself down on one of
the graves. But somehow he didn’t go to
sleep.
“He remained there some time. Suddenly
the grave began to open beneath him; he
felt the movement and sprang to his feet.
The grave having opened, out of it came a
corpse, wrapped in a white shroud, and
holding a coffin lid. He ran to the church,
laid the coffin lid at the door, and then set
off for the village.
“The moujik was a daring fellow. He
picked up the coffin lid and remained
standing beside his cart, waiting to see what
would happen. After a short delay the
dead man came back, and was going to
snatch up his coffin lid—but it was not to
be seen. Then the corpse began to track
it out, traced it up to the moujik, and said:
‘Give me my lid; if you don’t, I’ll tear
you to bits!’
[115]
“‘And my hatchet—how about that?’
answered the moujik. ‘Why, it’s I who’ll
be chopping you into small pieces!’
“‘Do give it back to me, good man!’
begs the corpse.
“‘I’ll give it when you tell me where
you’ve been and what you’ve done.’
“‘Well, I’ve been in the village, and there
I’ve killed a couple of youngsters.’
“‘Well, then, tell me how they can be
brought back to life.’
“The corpse reluctantly made answer:
‘Cut off the left skirt of my shroud. Take
it with you, and when you come into the
house where the youngsters were killed,
pour some live coals into a pot and put the
piece of the shroud in with them, and then
lock the door. The lads will be revived by
the smoke immediately.’
“The moujik cut off the left skirt of the
shroud and gave up the coffin lid. The
corpse went to its grave—the grave opened.
But just as the dead man was descending
into it, all of a sudden the cocks began to
crow, and he had not time to get properly
covered over. One end of the coffin lid
remained standing out of the ground.
“The moujik saw all this and made a note[116]
of it. The day began to dawn; he harnessed
his horse and drove into the village.
In one of the houses he heard cries and
wailing. In he went—there lay two dead
lads.
“‘Don’t cry,’ said he; ‘I can bring them
to life.’
“‘Do bring them to life, kinsman,’ said
their relatives. ‘We’ll give you half of all
we possess.’
“The moujik did everything as the corpse
had instructed him, and the lads came back
to life. Their relatives were delighted, but
they immediately seized the moujik and
bound him with cords, saying: ‘No, no,
trickster! We’ll hand you over to the
authorities. Since you know how to bring
them back to life, maybe it was you who
killed them!’
“‘What are you thinking about, true
believers? Have the fear of God before
your eyes!’ cried the moujik.
“Then he told them everything that had
happened to him during the night. Well,
they spread the news through the village,
and the whole population assembled and
stormed into the graveyard. They found
the grave from which the dead man had[117]
come out; they tore it open, and they
drove an aspen stake right into the heart
of the corpse, so that it might no more rise
up and slay. But they rewarded the
moujik handsomely, and sent him home
with great honour.”
The Soldier and the Vampire
“A certain soldier was allowed to go home
on furlough. Well, he walked and walked
and walked, and after a time he began to
draw near to his native village. Not far off
from that village lived a miller in his mill.
In old times, the soldier had been very
intimate with him: why shouldn’t he go
and see his friend? He went. The miller
received him cordially, and at once brought
out liquor; and the two began drinking
and chattering about their ways and doings.
All this took place towards nightfall, and
the soldier stopped so long at the miller’s
that it grew quite dark.
“When he proposed to start for his village,
his host exclaimed: ‘Spend the night
here, trooper; it is very late now, and
perhaps you may run into mischief.’
“‘How so?’
“‘God is punishing us! A terrible warlock[118]
has died among us, and by night he
rises from his grave, wanders through the
village, and does such things as bring fear
upon the very bailiffs; and so how could you
help being afraid of him?’
“‘Not a bit of it! A soldier is a man who
belongs to the Crown, and Crown property
cannot be drowned in water or burned in
fire. I will be off. I am tremendously
anxious to see my people as soon as
possible.’
“Off he set. His road lay in front of a
graveyard. On one of the graves he saw
a great fire blazing. What is that? Then
he said: ‘Let’s have a look.’ When he
drew near, he saw that the warlock was
sitting at the fire, sewing boots.
“‘Hail, brother!’ calls out the soldier.
“The warlock looked up and said: ‘What
have you come here for?’
“‘Why, I wanted to see what you were
doing.’
“The warlock threw his work aside and
invited the soldier to a wedding.
“‘Come along, brother,’ says he; ‘let’s
enjoy ourselves. There is a wedding going
on in the village.’
“‘Come along,’ says the soldier.
[119]
“They came to where the wedding was;
they were given drink, and treated with
the utmost hospitality. The warlock drank
and drank, revelled and revelled, and then
grew angry. He chased all the guests and
relatives out of the house, threw the wedded
pair into a slumber, took out two phials and
an awl, pierced the hands of the bride and
bridegroom with the awl, and began drawing
off their blood. Having done this, he said
to the soldier: ‘Now, let’s be off.’
“Accordingly, they went off. On the way
the soldier said: ‘Tell me, why did you
draw off their blood in those phials?’
“‘Why, in order that the bride and
bridegroom might die. To-morrow morning
no one will be able to wake them. I
alone know how to bring them back to life.’
“‘How’s that managed?’
“‘The bride and bridegroom must have
cuts made in their heels, and some of their
blood must then be poured back into these
wounds. I’ve got the bridegroom’s blood
stowed away in my right-hand pocket, and
the bride’s in my left.’
“The soldier listened to this without letting
a single word escape him. Then the
warlock began boasting again.
[120]
“‘Whatever I wish,’ says he, ‘that I
can do.’
“‘I suppose it’s quite impossible to get
the better of you,’ says the soldier.
“‘Impossible? If anyone were to make
a pyre of aspen boughs, a hundred loads of
them, and were to burn me on that pyre,
then he’d be able to get the better of me.
Only he’d have to look sharp in burning me,
for snakes and worms and different kinds
of reptiles would creep out of my inside,
and crows and magpies and jackdaws
would come flying up. All these must be
caught and flung on the pyre. If so much
as a single maggot were to escape, then
there’d be no help for it. In that maggot
I should slip away.’
“The soldier listened to all this and did
not forget it. He and the warlock talked
and talked, and at last they arrived at the
grave.
“‘Well, brother,’ said the warlock,
‘now I’ll tear you to pieces, otherwise
you’ll be telling all this.’
“‘What are you talking about? Don’t
you deceive yourself, for I serve God and
the Empire.’
“The warlock gnashed his teeth, howled[121]
aloud, and sprang at the soldier, who drew
his sword and began laying about him
with sweeping blows. They struggled and
struggled; the soldier was all but at the
end of his strength. ‘Ah,’ thinks he,
‘I’m a lost man, and all for nothing!’
Suddenly the cocks began to crow. The
warlock fell lifeless to the ground.
“The soldier took the phials of blood out
of the warlock’s pockets, and went to the
house of his own people. When he had
got there and exchanged greetings with his
relatives, they said: ‘Did you see any
disturbance, soldier?’
“‘No, I saw none.’
“‘There, now! Why, we’ve a terrible piece
of work going on in the village. A warlock
has taken to haunting it.’
“After talking a while they lay down to
sleep. The next morning the soldier awoke
and began asking: ‘I’m told you’ve got
a wedding going on somewhere here.’
“‘There was a wedding in the house of
a rich moujik,’ replied his relatives, ‘but
the bridegroom has died this very night—what
from nobody knows.’
“‘Where does this moujik live?’
“They showed him the house. Thither[122]
he went without speaking a word. When
he got there he found the whole family
in tears.
“‘What are you mourning about?’
says he.
“‘Such and such is the state of things,
soldier,’ say they.
“‘I can bring your young people to life
again. What will you give me if I do?’
“‘Take what you like, even were it half
of what we have got.’
“The soldier did as the warlock had instructed
him, and brought the young people
back to life. Instead of weeping there began
to be happiness and rejoicing: the soldier
was hospitably treated and well rewarded.
Then—left about face! Off he marched to
Starosta and told the burgomaster to call
the peasants together and to get ready a
hundred loads of aspen wood. Well, they
took the wood into the graveyard, dragged
the warlock out of his grave, placed him
on the pyre, and set it in flames. The
warlock began to burn. His corpse burst,
and out of it came snakes, worms, and
all kinds of reptiles, and up came flying
crows, magpies, and jackdaws. The peasants
knocked them down and flung them[123]
into the fire, not allowing so much as a
single maggot to creep away! And so
the warlock was thoroughly consumed, and
the soldier collected his ashes and strewed
them to the winds. From that time there
was peace in the village.
“The soldier received the thanks of the
whole community.”
In Russian folk-lore there is a class of
demons known as “heart devourers,” who
touch their victim with an aspen or other
twig credited with magical properties; the
heart then falls out and may be replaced
by some baser one. There is a Moscovian
story in which a hero awakes with the heart
of a hare, the work of a demon while the
man was asleep. He remained a coward
for the rest of his life. In another instance
a very quiet, reserved, inoffensive peasant
received a cock’s heart in exchange for his
own, and afterwards was for ever crowing
like a healthy bird.
The following is taken from the Lettres
Juives of 1738:—
“In the beginning of September there
died in the village of Kisilova, three
leagues from Graditz, an old man who
was sixty-two years of age. Three days[124]
after he had been buried, he appeared
in the night to his son, and asked him
for something to eat; the son having given
him something, he ate and disappeared.
The next day the son recounted to his
neighbours what had happened. That
night the father did not appear, but the
following night he showed himself and asked
for something to eat. They know not
whether the son gave him anything or not;
but the next day he was found dead in his
bed. On the same day, five or six persons
fell suddenly ill in the village, and died one
after the other in a few days.
“The officer or bailiff of the place, when
informed of what had happened, sent an
account of it to the tribunal of Belgrade,
which despatched to the village two of
these officers and an executioner to examine
into this affair. The imperial officer from
whom we have this account repaired thither
from Graditz to be a witness of what took
place.
“They opened the graves of those who had
been dead six weeks. When they came to
that of the old man, they found him with
his eyes open, having a fine colour, with
natural respiration, nevertheless motionless[125]
as the dead: whence they concluded
that he was most undoubtedly a vampire.
The executioner drove a stake into his
heart; they then raised a pile and reduced
the corpse to ashes. No mark of vampirism
was found either on the corpse of the son or
on the others.”
The following story is told by Madame
Blavatsky in Isis Unveiled, who states that
she had the account from an eye-witness
of the occurrence:—
“About the beginning of the nineteenth
century there occurred in Russia one of the
most frightful cases of vampirism on record.
The governor of the province of Tch——
was a man of about sixty years of age, of a
cruel and jealous disposition. Clothed with
despotic authority, he exercised it without
stint, as his brutal instincts prompted. He
fell in love with the pretty daughter of a
subordinate officer. Although the girl was
betrothed to a young man whom she loved,
the tyrant forced her father to consent to
his having her marry him; and the poor
victim, despite her despair, became his
wife. His jealous disposition soon exhibited
itself. He beat her, confined her to her
room for weeks together, and prevented her[126]
seeing anyone except in his presence. He
finally fell sick and died. Finding his
end approaching, he made her swear never
to marry again, and with fearful oaths
threatened that in case she did he would
return from his grave and kill her. He was
buried in the cemetery across the river, and
the young widow experienced no further
annoyance until, getting the better of her
fears, she listened to the importunities of
her former lover, and they were again
betrothed.
“On the night of the customary betrothal
feast, when all had retired, the old mansion
was aroused by shrieks proceeding from her
room. The doors were burst open, and the
unhappy woman was found lying on her bed
in a swoon. At the same time a carriage
was heard rumbling out of the courtyard.
Her body was found to be black and blue
in places, as from the effect of pinches, and
from a slight puncture in her neck drops
of blood were oozing. Upon recovering, she
stated that her deceased husband had suddenly
entered her room, appearing exactly
as in life, with the exception of a dreadful
pallor; that he had upbraided her for her
inconstancy, and then beaten and pinched[127]
her most cruelly. Her story was disbelieved;
but the next morning the guard
stationed at the other end of the bridge
which spans the river reported that just
before midnight a black coach-and-six had
driven furiously past without answering
their challenge.
“The new governor, who disbelieved the
story of the apparition, took nevertheless
the precaution of doubling the guards
across the bridge. The same thing happened,
however, night after night, the
soldiers declaring that the toll-bar at their
station near the bridge would rise of itself,
and the spectral equipage would sweep
past them, despite their efforts to stop it.
At the same time every night the watchers,
including the widow’s family and the servants,
would be thrown into a heavy sleep;
and every morning the young victim would
be found bruised, bleeding, and swooning as
before. The town was thrown into consternation.
The physicians had no explanations
to offer; priests came to pass
the night in prayer, but as midnight
approached, all would be seized with the
same terrible lethargy. Finally the archbishop
of the province came and performed[128]
the ceremony of exorcism in person. On
the following morning the governor’s widow
was found worse than ever. She was now
brought to death’s door.
“The governor was finally driven to take
the severest measures to stop the ever-increasing
panic in the town. He stationed
fifty Cossacks along the bridge, with orders
to stop the spectral carriage at all hazards.
Promptly at the usual hour it was heard
and seen approaching from the direction
of the cemetery. The officer of the guard
and a priest bearing a crucifix planted
themselves in front of the toll-bar and
together shouted: ‘In the name of God
and the Czar, who goes there?’ Out of
the coach was thrust a well-remembered
head, and a familiar voice responded:
‘The Privy Councillor of State and Governor
C——!’ At the same moment the
officer, the priest, and the soldiers were
flung aside, as by an electric shock, and
the ghostly equipage passed them before
they could recover breath.
“The archbishop then resolved as a last
expedient to resort to the time-honoured
plan of exhuming the body and driving an
oaken stake through its heart. This was[129]
done with great religious ceremony in the
presence of the whole populace. The story
is that the body was found gorged with
blood, and with red cheeks and lips. At
the instant that the first blow was struck
upon the stake a groan issued from the
corpse and a jet of blood spouted high into
the air. The archbishop pronounced the
usual exorcism, the body was reinterred,
and from that time no more was heard of
the vampire.”
CHAPTER IX MISCELLANEA
Voltaire was surprised that in the enlightened
eighteenth century there should
still be people found who believed in the
reality of vampires, and that the doctors of
the Sorbonne should give their imprimatur to
a dissertation on these unpleasant creatures.
Yet from 1730 to 1735 the subject of
vampirism formed a principal topic of
conversation, and may be said to have been
a mania all over the world, with Europe
as a particular centre. Pamphlets on the
subject streamed from the press, the newspapers
vied with one another in recording
fresh achievements of the spectres, and
though the philosophers scoffed at and
ridiculed the belief, yet sovereigns sent
officers and commissioners to report upon
their misdeeds. The favourite scenes of[131]
their exploits were Hungary, Poland, Silesia,
Bohemia, and Moravia, and in those countries
a vampire haunted and tormented
almost every village.
In some parts of Scandinavia a singular
method was adopted for getting rid of
vampires, viz. by instituting judicial
proceedings against them. Inhabitants
were regularly summoned to attend the
inquest; a tribunal was constituted;
charges were preferred with the usual
legal formalities, accusing them of molesting
the houses and introducing death
among the inhabitants; and at the end
of the proceedings judgment was proclaimed.
The priest then entered with
holy water, Mass was celebrated, and it
was held that complete conquest had been
gained over the goblins.
Sir Walter Scott, in his translation of
Eyrbyggia Saga, relates a traditional story
of several vampires who committed dreadful
ravages in Iceland in the year 1000, so
that in a household of thirty servants
no less than eighteen died.
Saxo Grammaticus, the earliest chronicler
and writer upon Danish history and folk-lore,
in his Danish History (book i.), dealing[132]
with the origin of the Danes, relates the
following story:—
One Mith-othin, who was famous for
his juggling tricks, was quickened, as
though by an inspiration from on High,
to seize the opportunity of feigning to
be a god; and, wrapping the minds of
the barbarians in fresh darkness, he led
them by the renown of his jugglings to
pay holy observance to his name. He said
that the wrath of the gods could never
be appeased nor the outrage to their
deity expiated by mixed and indiscriminate
sacrifices, and, therefore, forbade that
prayers for this end should be put up
without distinction, appointing to each of
those above his especial drink-offering.
But when Odin was returning, he cast away
all help of jugglings, went to Finland to
hide himself, and was there attacked and
slain by the inhabitants. Even in his
death his abominations were made manifest,
for those who came nigh his barrow were
cut off by a kind of sudden death; and,
after his end, he spread such pestilence
that he seemed almost to leave a filthier
record in his death than in his life; it was
as though he would extort from the guilty[133]
a punishment for his slaughter. The inhabitants
being in this trouble, took the
body out of the mound, beheaded it, and
impaled it through the breast with a
sharp stake, and herein that people found
relief.
In book ii. we have the story of Aswid
and Asmund. Aswid died and was buried
with horse and dog. Asmund died and
was buried with his friend, food being
put in for him to eat. Later on the
grave opened, when Asmund appeared and
said: “By some strange enterprise of
the power of hell the spirit of Aswid was
sent up from the nether world, and with
cruel tooth eats the fleet-footed (horse)
and has given his dog to his abominable
jaws. Not sated with devouring the horse
or hound, he soon turned his swift nails
upon me, tearing my cheek and taking off
my ear. Hence the hideous sight of my
slashed countenance, the blood spurts in
the ugly wound. Yet the bringer of horrors
did it not unscathed; for soon I cut off
his head with my steel, and impaled his
guilty carcase with a stake.”
In Malaysia the vampires are mostly
females, and are credited with a great[134]
fondness for fish. They are known as
Langsuirs, and Skeat, in Malay Magic, gives
the following charm for “laying” a Langsuir:—
O ye mosquito-fry at the river’s mouth,
When yet a great way off ye are sharp of eye;
When near, ye are hard of heart.
When the rock in the ground opens of itself,
Then (and then only) be emboldened the hearts of my foes and opponents!
When the corpse in the ground opens of itself,
Then (and then only) be emboldened the hearts of my foes and opponents!
May your heart be softened when you behold me,
By grace of this prayer that I use, called Silam Bayn.
Abercromby, in his work on the Finns,
says that the Ceremis imagine that the
spirits that cause illness, especially fever
and ague, are continually recruited on the
death of old maids, murderers, and those
that die a violent death. Whenever anyone
becomes dangerously ill, the Lapps feel
sure that one of his deceased relatives wants
his company in the region of the dead,
either from affection or to punish him for
some trespass. The Truks of Altai have
a similar belief. The soul after death
willingly lingers for some time in the house
and leaves it unwillingly, and often takes[135]
with it some other members of the family
or some of the cattle.
Codrington, in his descriptive work on
the Melanesians, says that there is a belief
in Banks Islands in the existence of a
power like that of vampires. A man or a
woman would obtain this power out of
a morbid desire for communion with some
ghost, and in order to gain it would steal
and eat a morsel of a corpse. The ghost
of the dead man would then join in a close
friendship with the person who had eaten,
and would gratify him by afflicting anyone
against whom his ghostly power might be
directed. The man so afflicted would feel
that something was influencing his life, and
would come to dread some particular person
among his neighbours, who was, therefore,
suspected of being a talamur. This name
was also given to one whose soul was
supposed to go out and eat the soul or
lingering life of a freshly dead corpse.
There was a woman, some years ago, of
whom the story is told that she made no
secret of doing this, and that once on the
death of a neighbour she gave notice that
she should go in the night and eat the
corpse. The friends of the deceased therefore[136]
kept watch in the house where the
corpse lay, and at dead of night heard a
scratching at the door, followed by a
rustling noise close by the corpse. One
of them threw a stone and seemed to hit
the unknown thing; and in the morning
the talamur was found with a bruise on her
arm, which she confessed was caused by
a stone thrown at her while she was eating
the corpse.
Baron von Haxthausen, in his work on
Transcaucasia, tells us that there once dwelt
in a cavern in Armenia a vampire called
Dakhanavar, who could not endure anyone
to penetrate into the mountains of Ulmish
Altotem or count their valleys. Everyone
who attempted this had in the night his
blood sucked by the monster from the
soles of his feet until he died. The vampire
was, however, at last outwitted by two
cunning fellows. They began to count
the valleys, and when night came on they
lay down to sleep—taking care to place
themselves with the feet of the one under
the head of the other. In the night the
monster came, felt as usual, and found a
head; then he felt at the other end and
found a head there also. “Well,” cried he,[137]
“I have gone through the whole 366
valleys of these mountains, and have sucked
the blood of people without end, but never
yet did I come across anyone with two
heads and no feet!” So saying, he ran
away and was never more seen in that
country, but ever after the people knew that
the mountain has 366 valleys.
Even America is not free from the belief
in the vampire. In one of the issues of the
Norwich (U.S.A.) Courier for 1854, there
is the account of an incident that occurred
at Jewett, a city in that vicinity. About
eight years previously, Horace Ray of Griswold
had died of consumption. Afterwards,
two of his children—grown-up sons—died
of the same disease, the last one dying about
1852. Not long before the date of the newspaper
the same fatal disease had seized
another son, whereupon it was determined
to exhume the bodies of the two brothers
and burn them, because the dead were
supposed to feed upon the living; and so
long as the dead body in the grave
remained undecomposed, either wholly
or in part, the surviving members of the
family must continue to furnish substance
on which the dead body could feed. Acting[138]
under the influence of this strange superstition,
the family and friends of the deceased
proceeded to the burial-ground on
June 8th, 1854, dug up the bodies of the
deceased brothers, and burned them on
the spot.
Dr Dyer, an eminent physician of Chicago,
also reported in 1875 a case occurring
within his own personal knowledge, where
the body of a woman who had died of
consumption was taken from her grave
and her lungs burned, under the belief that
she was drawing after her into the grave
some of her surviving relatives. In 1874,
according to the Providence Journal, in the
village of Placedale, Rhode Island, Mr
William Rose dug up the body of his own
daughter and burned her heart, under the
belief that she was wasting away the lives
of other members of the family.
The vampire is not an unknown spectre
in China, where the measures adopted for
the riddance of the pest are generally the
burning of the mortal remains of the corpse,
or removing to a distance the lid of the
coffin after the vampire has started on his
nocturnal rounds. It is held that the air
thus entering freely into the coffin will[139]
cause the contents to decay. Another
Chinese cure for vampires is to watch any
suspected coffin until the corpse has quitted
it, and then strew rice, red peas, and bits of
iron around it. The corpse, on returning,
will find it impossible to pass over these
things, and will thus fall an easy prey to
his captors.
The following story of a Chinese vampire
is related by Dr J. J. M. de Groot in his
Religious System of China (vol. v. p. 747):—
“Liu N. N., a literary graduate of the
lowest degree in Wukiang (in Kiangsu),
was in charge of some pupils belonging to
the Tsaing family in the Yuen-hwo district.
In the season of Pure Brightness he returned
home, some holidays being granted him to
sweep his ancestral tombs. This duty
performed, he returned to his post, and
said to his wife: ‘To-morrow I must go;
cook some food for me at an early hour.’
The woman said she would do so, and rose
for the purpose at cockcrow. Their village
lay on the hill behind their dwelling, facing
a brook. The wife washed some rice at that
brook, picked some vegetables in the garden,
and had everything ready, but when it was
light her husband did not rise. She went[140]
into his room to wake him up, but however
often she called he gave no answer. So
she opened the curtains and found him
lying across the bed, headless, and not a
trace of blood to be seen.
“Terror-stricken, she called the neighbours.
All of them suspected her of adultery
with a lover, and murder, and they warned
the magistrate. This grandee came and
held a preliminary inquest; he ordered the
corpse to be coffined, had the woman put
in fetters, and examined her; so he put her
in gaol, and many months passed away
without sentence being pronounced. Then
a neighbour, coming uphill for some fuel,
saw a neglected grave with a coffin lid bare;
it was quite a sound coffin, strong and solid,
and yet the lid was raised a little; so he
naturally suspected that it had been opened
by thieves. He summoned the people;
they lifted the lid off and saw a corpse with
features like a living person and a body
covered with white hair. Between its arms
it held the head of a man, which they
recognised as that of Liu, the graduate.
They reported the case to the magistrate;
the coroners ordered the head to be taken
away, but it was so firmly grasped in the[141]
arms of the corpse that the combined
efforts of a number of men proved insufficient
to draw it out. So the magistrate
told them to chop off the arms of the
kiangshi (corpse-spectre). Fresh blood
gushed out of the wounds, but in Liu’s head
there was not a drop left, it having been
sucked dry by the monster. By magisterial
order the corpse was burned, and the
case ended with the release of the woman
from gaol.”
CHAPTER X LIVING VAMPIRES
There is, however, the living vampire,
distinct and separate from the dead species.
In Epirus and Thessaly there is a belief in
living vampires, who leave their shepherd
dwellings by night and roam about, biting
and tearing men and animals and sucking
their blood. In Moldavia and in Wallachia,
the murony are real, living men who
become dogs at night, with the backbone
prolonged to form a sort of tail. They
roam through the villages, and their main
delight is to kill cattle.
In some countries the belief prevails that
the soul of a living man, often of a sorcerer,
leaves its proper body asleep and goes
forth, perhaps in visible form of a straw or
fluff of down, slips through the keyholes,
and attacks its sleeping victim. If the
sleeper should wake in time to clutch this[143]
tiny soul-embodiment, he may through it
have his revenge by maltreating or destroying
its bodily owner.
The following account was contributed
by me to the Occult Review for July 1910.
The particulars are given exactly as I
wrote them down in shorthand from the
narrator’s dictation. My informant is a
well-known medical practitioner in the
West End of London, who has held various
official appointments in the tropics, and I
received his assurance that the incidents
recorded happened exactly as they are described.
Whether the Indian referred to
is still alive or not is unknown, but certainly
the two other principals, at the time of
writing, are.
Some years ago a small number of English
officials were stationed in a small place in
the tropics. Their residences were about
a quarter of a mile from each other, three
of the bungalows standing in their own
compounds and on separate elevations.
Suddenly one of the officials fell ill, but the
district medical officer was quite unable to
trace the cause of the illness. The official
in question made several applications to
the Colonial Office for transfer to another[144]
station, saying he felt he should die if he
remained there. At first the application
was refused, but the man got worse and
fell into a very depressed mental condition.
He eventually wrote again, saying that if
his application for transfer could not be
granted he would be compelled to throw
up his appointment—a serious matter for
him, as he had no private means. The
application was then granted; he was
transferred, and he recovered his health.
About eighteen months later another
official had a slight attack of fever, from
which he fully recovered; but after this
attack he began to complain of lassitude
until he went beyond a certain distance from
his residence. The moment he returned to
within this distance he said he felt as though
a wet blanket had been thrown over him,
and nothing could rouse him from the depression
which seized him. He, too, fell
into a low state of health, and on his request
was transferred to another station.
Shortly after this transfer the wife of the
district medical officer, living within the
same area, began to fail in health and
became terribly depressed, apparently from
no cause whatever. Previously she had[145]
been a cheerful, happy woman, indulging
in games and outdoor sports of all kinds,
but now she became most depressed and
miserable. At last, one night, about twelve
o’clock, she woke up shrieking. Her husband
rushed into her room, and she said
she had woken up with a most awful
feeling of depression, and had seen a creature
travelling along the cornice of the
room. She could only describe it as having
a resemblance to something between a
gigantic spider and a huge jelly-fish. Her
husband ascribed it to an attack of nightmare,
but he was disturbed in the same
manner on the following night, when his
wife said she had been awake for a quarter
of an hour, but had not had the strength
to call him before. He found her in a
state of collapse, pulse exceedingly low,
temperature three degrees below normal,
pallid, and in a cold sweat. He mixed her
a draught which had the effect of sending
her to sleep.
In the morning she said she must leave
the station and go home, as to stop there
would mean her death. Thinking to divert
her attention, her husband took her away
on a pleasure trip, when he was glad to[146]
see that she entirely recovered her former
cheerful expression and high spirits. This
state of things lasted until, returning home
in a rickshaw alongside her husband’s, her
face changed and she resumed her gloomy
countenance.
“There,” she said, “is it not awful? I
have been so well and happy all the week,
and now I feel as though a pall had been
thrown over me.”
Matters got worse, and she became more
depressed than ever, and only a few nights
passed before her husband was again called
to her bedside about midnight. He found
his wife in a state of considerable weakness,
although it was not so acute as on
the previous occasion. She said to him:
“I want you to examine the back of my
neck and shoulders very carefully and see
if there is any mark on the skin of any
kind whatever.”
Her husband did so, but could not find
a mark.
“Get a glass and look again. See if you
can find any puncture from a sharp-pointed
tooth.”
He made a microscopical examination,
but found absolutely nothing.
[147]
“Now,” said his wife, “I can tell you
what is the matter. I dreamed that I was
in a house where I lived when I was a girl.
My little boy called out to me. I ran down
to him, but when I reached the bottom of
the stairs a tall, black man came towards
me. I waved him off, but I could not
move to get away from him, though I
pushed the boy out of his reach. The
man came towards me, seized me in his
arms, sat down at the bottom of the stairs,
put me on his knee, and proceeded to suck
from a point at the upper part of the spine,
just below the neck. I felt that he was
drawing all the blood and life out of me.
Then he threw me from him, and apparently
I lost consciousness as he did so. I
felt as though I was dying. Then I woke
up, and I had been lying here for a quarter
of an hour or twenty minutes before I was
able to call you.”
“Have you ever experienced anything
of this character before?” asked her husband.
“No, I have not; but night after night
for many months I have woken up in
exactly the same state, and that has been
the sole cause of my mental depression. I[148]
have not said anything about it because it
seemed so foolish, but now I have had
this definite dream I cannot hold my
tongue any longer.”
She soon passed into a peaceful sleep,
and on discussing the matter the following
morning with her husband she said: “I
have a feeling somehow that it will not
happen again. I feel quite well and strong,
and all my depression is gone.”
In the afternoon husband and wife were
going together to the club, when around
the corner of the jungle came a tall Indian,
the owner of a large number of milch cattle,
and reputed to be a wealthy man. The
surgeon’s wife suddenly stopped, turned
pale, and said immediately: “That is the
man I saw in my dream.”
The husband went directly up to the
man and said to him: “Look here, I will
give you twelve hours to get out of this
place. I know everything that happened
last night at midnight, and I will kill you
like a dog if I find you here in twelve
hours’ time.”
The Indian disappeared the same night,
taking with him only a few valuables and
a little loose money. He left behind him[149]
the money that was deposited in the bank,
as well as the whole of his property. His
forty head of cattle, worth eighty dollars
each, were impounded, and no news had
been heard of him five years afterwards.
Since his departure no one has complained
of depression and lassitude in that area.