[256] Thucyd. vi, 27.
[257] Andokidês de Mysteriis, sect. 20.
[258] Andokidês de Mysteriis, sects. 14, 15, 36; Plutarch, Alkibiad. c. 18.
[259] Those who are disposed to imagine that the violent feelings and proceedings at Athens by the mutilation of the Hermæ were the consequence of her democratical government, may be reminded of an analogous event of modern times from which we are not yet separated by a century.
In the year 1766, at Abbeville in France, two young gentlemen of good family—the Chevalier d’Etallonde and Chevalier de la Barre—were tried, convicted, and condemned for having injured a wooden crucifix which stood on the bridge of that town: in aggravation of this offence they were charged with having sung indecent songs. The evidence to prove these points was exceedingly doubtful; nevertheless, both were condemned to have their tongues cut out by the roots, to have their right hands cut off at the church gate, then to be tied to a post in the market-place with an iron chain, and burnt by a slow fire. This sentence, after being submitted by way of appeal to the Parliament of Paris, and by them confirmed, was actually executed upon the Chevalier de la Barre—d’Etallonde having escaped—in July, 1766; with this mitigation, that he was allowed to be decapitated before he was burnt; but at the same time with this aggravation, that he was put to the torture, ordinary and extraordinary, to compel him to disclose his accomplices (Voltaire, Relation de la Mort du Chevalier de la Barre, Œuvres, vol. xlii, pp. 361-379, ed. Beuchot: also Voltaire, Le Cri du Sang Innocent, vol. xii, p. 133).
I extract from this treatise a passage showing how—as in this mutilation of the Hermæ at Athens—the occurrence of one act of sacrilege turns men’s imagination, belief, and talk, to others, real or imaginary:—
“Tandis que Belleval ourdissoit sécrètement cette trame, il arriva malheureusement que le crucifix de bois, posé sur le pont d’Abbeville, étoit endommagé, et l’on soupçonna que des soldats ivres avoient commis cette insolence impie.
“Malheureusement l’evêque d’Amiens, étant aussi evêque d’Abbeville, donna à cette aventure une célébrité et une importance qu’elle ne méritoit pas. Il fit lancer des monitoires: il vint faire une procession solennelle auprès du crucifix; et on ne parla en Abbeville que de sacrilèges pendant une année entière. On disoit qu’il se formoit une nouvelle secte qui brisoit les crucifix, qui jettoit par terre toutes les hosties, et les perçoit à coups de couteaux. On assuroit qu’ils avoient répandu beaucoup de sang. Il y eut des femmes qui crurent en avoir été témoins. On renouvela tous les contes calomnieux répandus contre les Juifs dans tant de villes de l’Europe. Vous connoissez, Monsieur, jusqu’à quel point la populace porte la credulité et le fanatisme, toujours encouragé par les moines.
“La procédure une fois commencée, il y eut une foule de délations. Chacun disoit ce qu’il avoit vu ou cru voir—ce qu’il avoit entendu ou cru entendre.”
It will be recollected that the sentence on the Chevalier de la Barre was passed, not by the people, nor by any popular judicature, but by a limited court of professional judges sitting at Abbeville, and afterwards confirmed by the Parlement de Paris, the first tribunal of professional judges in France.