The laws of France, in the time of Louis XIV., were extremely rigorous, against sorcery and divination, inflicting the severest penalties, upon all, who pretended to exercise their skill, in these worse than unprofitable mysteries. Nevertheless, an extraordinary story is related, in the autobiography of Madame Du Barri, as communicated to her, by Louis XV., of several visits stealthily paid, by Louis XIV., and Madame de Maintenon, to a celebrated judicial astrologer, in Paris. This narrative may be found recorded, at length, in the first volume of Madame Du Barri’s Memoirs, commencing on page 286.
The age of Louis XIV. was an age of superstition. An Italian priest, a secret professor of the art of necromancy, was induced, upon the King’s promise of protection, against the parliament, in the event of a discovery, to satisfy the royal curiosity, and open the book of fate. At the hour appointed, being midnight, Madame de Maintenon and the Duc de Noailles were conveyed to a house in Sevrès, where they met the sorcerer, who had celebrated the mass alone, and consecrated several wafers. After performing a variety of ceremonies, he drew the horoscope of the King, and Madame de Maintenon. He promised the King, that he should succeed, in all his undertakings. He then gave his Majesty a parcel, wrapped in new parchment, and carefully sealed, saying to the King—“the day, in which you form the fatal resolution of acquainting yourself with the contents of this package, will be the last of your prosperity; but, if you desire to carry your good fortune to the highest pitch, be careful, upon every great festival, Easter, Whitsunday, the Assumption, and Christmas, to pierce this talisman with a pin; do this, and be happy.”
Certain events confirmed the sorcerer’s predictions—others gave them the lie direct. The royal confidence was shaken.
Upon one occasion, the Bishop of Meaux, the great Bossuet, chanced to be at the apartments of Madame de Maintenon; and the subject of magic and sorcery being introduced, the good Bishop expressed himself, with such abhorrence of the profanation, as effectually to stir up a sentiment of compunction, in the bosom of the King and Madame. At length, they disclosed the secret to their confessors, to whom the most effectual means of breaking the charm appeared to be, to break open the talismanic package; and this was accordingly imposed, as a penance, on the King.
His sacred Majesty was thus painfully placed, inter cornua, or, as we trivially say, between hawk and buzzard—between the priest and the sorcerer. His good sense, if not his devotion, prevailed. The package was torn open, in the presence of Madame de Maintenon, and father la Chaise. It contained a consecrated wafer, pierced with as many holes, as there had been saints’ days in the calendar, since it had been in the King’s possession. That consternation fell upon the King, which becomes a good Catholic, when he believes, that he has committed sacrilege. He was long disordered, by the recollection, and all, that masses and starvation could avail, to purge the offence, was cheerfully submitted to, by the King. Louis XV. closes this farcical account, with a grave averment, that his ancestor, after this, lost as many male descendants, in the right line, as he had stuck pins, in the holy wafer. There may, possibly, be some little consolation, in the reflection, that, if the private history of Louis le Grand be entitled to any credit, like Charles the Second of England, he could well afford the sacrifice—of whom Butler pleasantly remarks—
“Go on, brave Charles, and if thy back,
As well as purse, but hold thee tack,
Most of thy realm, in time, the rather
Than call thee king, shall call thee father.”
The Millennarians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries—and these enthusiasts are, by no means, of modern origin—may be said to have hunted, in company with the judicial astrologers. Herlicius and the Millennarians solemnly predicted the destruction of the Turkish Empire, in 1665, the one relying upon the aspect of the stars, and the other upon their fantastical interpretation of the Scriptures; and both, in all likelihood, chiefly, upon the good sword and stubborn will of the Emperor; who, to their infinite disappointment and mortification, finally made peace with the Ottomans. Yet David Herlicius was no impostor, or if so, there was no greater dupe to his astrological doctrines than himself. He was a learned, pious, and honest man.
There is, probably, no more extensively popular error, than that a deceiver must possess, on all occasions, a greater measure of knowledge than the deceived. Herlicius was an eminent physician; and Bayle says of him, vol. vi. page 137—“One can hardly imagine why a man, who had so much business, in the practice of physic, and who never had any children, should fear to want bread in his old age, unless he drew horoscopes.”
This eminent man had doubtless some little misgivings, as to the infallibility of the art, after the failure of his prediction, in relation to the Ottomans. Bayle recites an extract of a letter, from Herlicius to a friend, in which the writer says: “Oh that fortune would look kindly upon me! that, without meddling with those astrological trifles, I might make provision for old age, which threatens me with blindness; and I would never draw any horoscope. In the mean time, when a great many persons inquire for, and desire to know more things, than are within the compass of our art, or more than it can explain, I choose rather to act with conscience, than to disgrace, and, as it were, to defile, our sacred Astrology, and to cast a blemish upon it. For our art abounds with a great number of Chaldean superstitions, which several of our countrymen are still obstinately fond of. A great many ask me what color of clothes and horses will be lucky for them? Sometimes I laugh heartily, at these and other such absurd questions, but I do also often abhor them. For I am enamored with the virgin state of our art, nor can I suffer that it should be so abominably defiled, as to give the enemies of astrology an opportunity to object to us those abuses, to the contempt of the art itself.”
At the period, when Herlicius unfortunately predicted the destruction of the Ottoman power, Judicial Astrology was in the highest favor in England. The date of the prediction, 1665, was the sixth year of Charles the Second. Whatever space remained, unoccupied by other follies, during the reign of the Stuarts, and even during the interregnum, was filled by the preposterous doctrines of Judicial Astrology. It is perfectly well established, that Charles the First, when meditating his escape from Carisbrook castle, in 1647, consulted the famous astrologer, Sir William Lilly.