CHAPTER V
PHENOMENA OF MEDIOMANIA
In the year 1772, a certain parishioner of Saint-Mandé, named Loiseaut, being at Church, believed that he saw an extraordinary person kneeling close by him; this was a very swarthy man, whose only garment was a pair of coarse worsted drawers. His beard was long, his hair woolly, and about his neck there was a ruddy circular scar. He carried a book, having the following inscription emblazoned in golden letters: Ecce Agnus Dei.
Loiseaut observed with astonishment that no one but himself seemed aware of this strange presence, but he finished his devotions and returned home, where the same personage was awaiting him. He drew nearer to ask who he was and what might his business be, when the fantastic visitor vanished. Loiseaut retired to bed in a fever and unable to sleep. The same night he found his room illuminated suddenly by a ruddy glow; he sprang up in bed, believing that the place was on fire; and then on a table in the very centre of the room he saw a gold plate, wherein the head of his visitor was swimming in blood, encompassed by a red nimbus. The eyes rolled terribly, the mouth opened, a strange and hissing voice said: “I await the heads of kings, the heads of the courtesans of kings; I await Herod and Herodias.” The nimbus faded and the sick man saw no more.[330]
Some days after he had recovered sufficiently to resume his usual occupations. As he was crossing the Place Louis XV, a beggar accosted him and Loiseaut, without looking, threw a coin into his hat. “Thank you,” said the recipient, “it is a king’s head; but here,” and he pointed towards the middle place of the thoroughfare, “there will fall another, and it is that for which I am waiting.” Loiseaut looked with astonishment towards the speaker and uttered a cry when he recognised the strange figure of his vision. “Be silent,” said the mendicant; “they will take you for a fool, as no one but yourself can see me. You have recognised me, I know, and to you I confess that I am John Baptist, the Precursor. I am here to predict the punishment which will befall the successors of Herod and the heirs of Caïaphas; you may repeat all that I tell you.”
From this time forward Loiseaut believed that St. John was present visibly at his side, almost from day to day. The vision spoke to him long and frequently on the woes which would befall France and the Church. Loiseaut related his vision to several persons, who were not only impressed but became seers on their own part. They formed among themselves a mystical society which met in great secrecy. It was their custom to sit in a circle, holding hands and awaiting communications in silence. This might continue for hours, and then the figure of the Baptist would appear in the midst of them. They fell, concurrently or successively, into the magnetic sleep and saw, passing before their eyes, the future scenes of the revolution, with the restoration which would come thereafter.
The spiritual director of this sect or circle was a monk named Dom Gerle, who became also their leader on the death of Loiseaut in 1788.[331] At the epoch of the Revolution, however, having been won over by republican enthusiasm, Dom Gerle was expelled by the other members, acting on the inspirations of their chief somnambulist, who was known as Sister Françoise André. He had a somnambulist of his own, and in a Parisian garret he followed what was then the new craft of a mesmerist. The seeress in question was an old and nearly blind woman, named Catherine Théot; she prophesied, and her predictions were realised; she cured many who were sick; and as her forecasts had a political cast invariably, the police of the Comité de salut public were not slow in taking up the matter.
One evening, Catherine Théot was in an ecstasy, surrounded by her adepts. “Hearken,” she exclaimed, “I hear the sound of his footsteps; he is the mysterious chosen one of Providence, the angel of revolution, at once its saviour and victim, king of ruins and regeneration. Do you see him? He draws nigh. He also has been encircled by the ruddy nimbus of the Precursor; it is he who shall bear all crimes of those who are about to immolate him. Great are thy destinies, O thou who shalt close the abyss by casting thyself therein. Do you not behold him, adorned as if for a festival, carrying flowers in his hands—garlands which are crowns of his martyrdom.” Then sobbing and melting into tears: “How cruel is thine ordeal, my son; and how many ingrates shall curse thy memory through the ages. Rise up, and kneel down: he comes; the king comes—he is the king of bloody sacrifices.”
At this moment the door opened quickly; a man entered enveloped in a cloak and having his hat drawn over his eyes. Those who were present rose up; Catherine Théot stretched forth her arms towards the new comer and said as her hands trembled: “I knew that you must come, and I have awaited your coming. He who is at my right side, but unseen by you, shewed you to me yesterday, when an accusation was lodged against us. We are accused of conspiring for the king, and of a king I have indeed spoken; it is he whom the Precursor reveals to me at this present moment, having a crown steeped in blood, and I know over whose head it is placed—your own, Maximilian.”
At this name the unknown started, as if a red hot steel had entered his breast. He cast a swift and anxious glance about him, after which his expression became again impassible.
“What would you say? I fail to understand,” he murmured in a short and abrupt manner.