7. In the ordeal by hot oil, the ground appointed for the trial is cleared, and rubbed with cow-dung; the next day, at sun-rise, the Pundit worships Ganesa, or the Hindoo Janus; presents his oblations, and pays adoration to other deities, conformably to the Sastra. Then, having read the incantations prescribed, he places a covered pan of gold, silver, copper, iron, or clay, sixteen fingers broad, and four fingers deep, and throws into it one S’ér or eighty sicca weight of clarified butter or oil of seramurz. After this a ring of gold, silver, or iron, is cleaned, washed with water, and cast into the oil, which they proceed to heat, and, when it is very hot, put into it a fresh leaf of pippela or of bilna. When the leaf is burned, the oil is known to be sufficiently hot. Then, having pronounced a metra over the oil, they order the accused to take out the ring; and if he withdraw it without being burnt, or without a blister on his hand, his innocence is considered evident.
8. In the red-hot iron trial, an iron ball, or the head of a spear red-hot, is placed on the hand of the accused.
9. To perform the ordeal by Dharm’anch, an image named Dharma, as the genius of justice, is made of silver, and another called Adharma, of clay or iron, both of which are thrown into a large earthen jar; the accused, having thrust his hand into it, is acquitted if he draw forth the silver image, but condemned if he bring out the iron. In another form of this trial, the figure of a deity is painted on white cloth, and another on black; the first of which is named Dharma, and the second Adharma. These are severally rolled up in cow-dung, and thrown into a large jar, without having been shown to the accused, who must put his hand into the jar, and is acquitted or convicted as he draws out the figure on the white or black cloth.
A strange and poetical method of deciding a quarrel is said to be adopted in Greenland: each of the parties is obliged to sing in public a satirical attack against his opponent, and the production which is considered the most virulent, or which excites the most mirth, is deemed conclusive.
The practice of ordeals may be traced to the remotest antiquity. In Sicily, near the temples of the Palici, were two pools of sulphureous water, supposed to have sprung from the earth when these deities were born; the most solemn oaths were taken near these springs by those who had quarrels to decide. These oaths being inscribed were thrown into the mystic waters; if they floated upon the surface, innocence was proved, and the perjured was instantly punished in some supernatural manner. When both their tests remained buoyant, the oracle was to decide, and the altars of the Palici were constantly polluted by human sacrifices.
Amongst the Jews, women accused of adultery were obliged to drink water in which ashes had been mixed. Grotius mentions many instances of water ordeal in Bithynia, Sardinia, and other countries.
These ordeals were distinguished into the Judicium Dei, or judgment of God, and the Vulgaris Purgatio.
The first account we have of the appeal to the fire ordeal as a proof of innocence, is that of Simplicius bishop of Autun, in the fourth century. This prelate, as the story is related, before his promotion to the episcopal dignity, had married a wife, whom he fondly loved, but who, being unwilling to leave him after his clerical preferment, continued to sleep in the same chamber with him. The sanctity of Simplicius suffered materially, at least on the score of fame, by the constancy of his wife’s affection; and it was rumoured that the holy man, though a bishop, persisted, in opposition to the canonical laws, to taste the sweets of matrimony. Upon which his wife, in the presence of a great concourse of people, took up a considerable quantity of burning coals, which she applied to her breast, without the least hurt to her person or garments. It is needless to add that this was a sufficient proof of her husband’s innocence. In the fifth century, St. Brice went through the same trial on a similar occasion.
The ordeal of hot water was resorted to by Lothair the husband of Teutberge, daughter of a duke of Burgundy, who was accused of incest with her brother, a monk and deacon; for the which he sought a dissolution of his marriage, that he might wed his mistress Valrade. The poor Queen immediately justified herself by proxy, getting her attorney-general to draw out a blessed ring from a kettle of hot water; but the obdurate King swore that her champion had recourse to witchcraft or cunning, and was possessed of some secret that rendered him proof against hot water. Others, however, were not so incredulous; and her innocence was proclaimed as having been confirmed by a Divine judgment, although it appears that the Queen had confessed her guilt to her confessor. To decide therefore between a supposed Divine judgment and an admission of her offence became a matter of such a ticklish nature, that it was very properly submitted to the consideration of two ecclesiastical councils, who thereupon pronounced a divorce.
Howbeit, Pope Nicholas I, who of course must have known more of the business than any other earthly power, annulled the decision, and excommunicated and anathematized Goutier, the archbishop of Cologne, who had had the impudence to advocate the divorce; but this refractory prelate’s subsequent conduct showed his criminality, for he thus animadverts on the pontiff’s act: “Although our lord, Nicholas, whom people call Pope, has thought proper to excommunicate us, we defy his nonsense.” Then, having the presumption to address his holiness personally, he adds: “And let me tell you, we will not receive your cursed sentence—we despise it; we fling you from our communion, being perfectly satisfied with that of our bishops and our brethren, whom you affect to despise.”