Works of Sax Rohmer

by Sax Rohmer

  I do not propose to dwell upon the career of Nostradamus as a student, but to deal with his life as physician, philosopher, and prophet, and I come to the first great event in his history when, at the age of twenty-two years, even before he had had conferred upon him the degree of doctor, he gained for himself a reputation which surpassed that of the most learned physicians of his time.

  In 1525 a pestilence broke out and ravaged Montpellier and the surrounding country, and Nostradamus, aware that certain districts were without doctors, quitted Montpellier and set out upon a tour of the villages attacked by the contagion. Departing from the methods employed by the Faculty of Montpellier, he made up new remedies; and whilst those of his colleagues proved of no avail against the dread disease, and frequently hastened death, his own effected marvellous cures. His devotion to the stricken people was only equalled by the wonderful skill that he displayed in dealing with the cases to which he attended; and, although many refrained from entrusting themselves to the care of so young a physician, the excellence of his remedy soon became known, even as far as Toulouse and Bordeaux, and he had ultimately many more patients than he found it possible to cope with.

  Astonished at his phenomenal success, the other doctors invited him to name the composition of the drug with which he had succeeded in arresting the progress of the pestilence. But he merely replied that he held a certain powder, the recipe for which was in the possession only of his own family. That this was nothing less than the great Elixir, more than one student of alchemy has believed.

  The old and learned professors of the Faculty of Montpellier, having heard of the successes attained by their young pupil during his journey, recalled him after the pestilence had been stayed, to confer upon him the degree of Doctor. In 1529, after having effected a great number of marvellous cures, and having established a reputation, he returned to Montpellier, loaded with honours, but, for all that, poor.

  Nostradamus, having, as we have seen, employed remedies which were unauthorized by the Faculty, was interrogated with defiance; but it is said that he was received as Doctor amid the applause and admiration of the learned assembly. History has preserved to us the name of the person who most frequently interrogated Nostradamus. This was the celebrated Antoine Romier, one of the most noted physicians of the sixteenth century.

  Before the French Revolution there was still to be seen, on the registers of the Faculty of Montpellier, the signature of Nostradamus, and beneath, the following date, written in his hand: XXIII Octobre MDXXIX.

  Some time later, his name had become so popular that the students actually demanded that he should be appointed as their professor. Their wishes were acceded to, and, if we are to believe Astruc, and Bouche’s Histoire de Provence, the young doctor Nostradamus was named Professor to the Faculty of Montpellier.

  II. THE BLACK PIG AND THE WHITE PIG

  Ere long, however, Nostradamus, who loved travel, tired of Montpellier. He left this city, his chair, his pupils, his friends, and re-visited the country of Provence, the scene of his former successes. Everywhere he was received with acclamation and affection; every town was en fête to welcome him.

  At the gates gathered those whom he had restored to health, and before their preserver marched young boys and girls who strewed his path with flowers.

  The notable people of the district extended to him invitations to visit them and to remain for several months in their families. In fact, according to the chronicles of the time, never had king, prince, or mighty noble a more genuinely affectionate welcome from the Midi than that accorded the young Professor of the Faculty of Montpellier.

  One of the greatest savants of the century, Jules César Scaliger, having heard — as all France had heard — of the immense reputation of Nostradamus, communicated with him in order that he might judge for himself if the commotion had any real foundation.

  Although it has been said that Scaliger was the son of an obscure sign-painter, he was in reality a descendant of the famous Della Scala family of Verona, one member of which had been the patron of Dante. A physician of no small repute, he was also one of the most renowned classical scholars that Europe has produced.

  The young professor, then, immediately availed himself of the invitation extended and proceeded to the town of Agen. During his sojourn there, Scaliger frequently plied his colleague with questions concerning the manner in which the latter had practised his profession during the recent plague, and the replies he received, says a contemporary chronicler, were of so learned a nature that the classic was constrained to confess that this was no ordinary man. A friendship sprang up between these two — a bond so strong that Nostradamus was persuaded to set himself up in Agen.

  This town, honoured in the presence amongst its citizens of two such remarkable intellects, offered them considerable presents to induce them to remain permanently within its walls. These they declined, however, saying that they could not belong solely to the town of Agen, since they did not belong even to themselves; and that if the authorities had presents to give, they should, rather than occupy themselves with them, think of the unfortunate, of the infirm, of the sick, and of the aged. This response appealed to the people so keenly that on the morrow they went to meet Scaliger and Nostradamus, who were out walking, and carried them in triumph through the town.

  A man of the age of Nostradamus, handsome and enjoying so great a reputation, naturally excited the attentions of family men who possessed marriageable daughters, and several people of considerable standing presented themselves with a view to arranging an alliance. They were, however, refused by the young savant, and many of the disappointed had convinced themselves that he would never marry, when at last he espoused a young girl of high station, “very beautiful and of an amiable disposition,” by whom, says his great friend Chavigny, he had two children — boy and girl. But his wife and children died young, and Nostradamus, stricken with grief, resolved upon leaving Agen, where he had lived for four years, in order to travel far from the scene of his triple bereavement and to make new acquaintances.

  He now journeyed in turn through La Guienne, Languedoc, Italy, and France; and although he did not stay long enough in these places to learn much of the country through which he passed, he took care to acquaint himself with men of his profession and to profit thereby. We notice this spirit and taste in the observations which he makes in his two books, upon the divers methods of practising medicine which he remarked during his wanderings, and the conclusions at which he arrived concerning the merits of the many doctors with whom he came into contact. But to these I shall refer later.

  One of the earliest signs of his ability in divination was demonstrated whilst he was travelling through Lorraine. In this country he made the acquaintance of the Seigneur de Florinville, who requested Nostradamus to visit his château to treat his wife, who was stricken by some infirmity.

  Whilst walking one day with his host in the courtyard, the two fell to discussing omens. During their conversation two sucking-pigs — one white, the other black — strayed into the yard and approached them. The Seigneur took this opportunity to ask of Nostradamus what would be the destiny of these two pigs.

  “You,” replied Nostradamus, “will eat the black one, but the other will be devoured by a wolf.”

  The answer was in accordance with the wishes of de Florinville; for, although in public he treated his guest as an intimate friend, he seems secretly to have regarded him as an impostor. Certain that it was now in his power to expose Nostradamus, he gave instructions to his chef to kill the white pig and to serve it for supper.

  In obedience to his master’s command, the cook killed the white pig, dressed it, and placed it upon the spit ready for roasting at the proper time. Shortly afterwards, however, he was called away from the kitchen upon some errand, and, during his absence, a tame wolf-cub, the property of the Seigneur, entered, and, discovering the carcass of the white pig, immediately set to eating it. The animal had eaten about half of this delicacy when the c
hef returned and surprised the wolf at his meal.

  Fearing that he would be reprimanded for his carelessness, the cook immediately seized the black pig, killed it, and prepared it for supper in place of the white one.

  Supper was served, and all the guests took their places at the board. The Seigneur de Florinville, who of course knew nothing of what had taken place in the kitchen, felt assured that he would now achieve his ill-mannered triumph over Nostradamus, and, addressing the latter with a confident air, he remarked that they were about to eat the white pig, inasmuch as the wolf had not done so.

  Nostradamus replied that he was in error, and expressed his conviction that the meat now placed before them was the flesh of the black pig. Thereupon de Florinville sent for the chef and asked him before all whether that which was upon the table was the white pig or the black.

  The poor servant was covered with confusion — he had known nothing of his master’s evil scheme — and stammered out that he had cooked the black pig, as the white one had been devoured by the wolf-cub during his absence from the kitchen.

  De Florinville’s state of mind may be better imagined than described, and certainly his discomfiture was well merited. Reports of this absurd incident were very soon noised abroad, and, as such things are usually made much of, were considerably exaggerated. But the episode served, nevertheless, to show the ability of Nostradamus as a diviner.

  III. THE PLAGUE

  The wanderings of Nostradamus lasted for about ten years, during which period comparatively little is known of his doings, and we again hear of him in the year 1543, when he returned to Provence rich in experience.

  It is certain that during his absence from the country of his birth he had observed very closely everything connected with the practice of medicine amongst the peoples with whom he came into contact. In the preface to his Opuscule he tells us that “the administration of pharmacy in Marseilles was very bad,” but that he had the good fortune to meet with a learned personage, by name Louis René; and he also names a few excellent chemists, to whom he refers with due measure of praise.

  As neither envy nor jealousy formed part of the character of Nostradamus, he knew how to render justice where justice was due; and if he criticized certain doctors of Avignon, he at least was loud in his praises of those who practised at Montpellier; and in each instance he named the object of his attack or of his approval. His criticisms, if severe, were just, and gained for him a large number of admirers and friends.

  On his return to Provence, the town of Marseilles sent to him a deputation of savants with a request that he would now take up his residence and live permanently within her walls; but the numerous friends he had made at Salon, a little town situated between Aix, Avignon, and Arles, succeeded in persuading him to reside there. It was in Salon that he made the acquaintance of Anne Pons Jumel, or Ponsart Jumelle, a young lady, wealthy and of good family, whom he married in 1544; and by this second wife he had six children.

  We know only of four, however — three boys and one girl. The eldest took the name of Michel, and studied his father’s profession, but without much success. The second was César, who has written a history of Provence. The third son became a Capuchin friar; but of the daughter we know nothing.

  Concerning the son Michel, a certain writer says that, impelled by a marked propensity towards astrology, he took advantage of the occasion when the little town of Pouzin, in Vivarais, was besieged by the royal troops, in 1575, to predict that it would perish by fire, and, in order that for once in his life he might give utterance to a true prediction, he himself set fire to several houses on the surrender of the town. He was caught in the act, and taken before d’Espinay SaintLuc on the fall of Pouzin. Saint-Luc sarcastically inquired of him if he had foreseen any accident that might happen to himself.

  “No,” was the reply.

  “Then your science fails you!” said Saint-Luc — and killed him forthwith. —

  I cannot vouch for the truth of this story.

  When the civil war broke out between the Catholics and Huguenots of Provence, Charles IX sent the Comte de Crussol with orders to the Comte de Tendes, governor of the province, that the latter should exert all his influence in order to pacify the opposing factions, or bring the rebels to a sense of their duty. The Sieur de Flassans, one of the Huguenot leaders, was no sooner warned of the approach of the King’s messengers, than he marched on the town of Barjols at the head of five or six thousand men and sixty cavaliers; and was also accompanied by a great number of partisans. The Comte de Crussol, who commanded the royal troops, sent a herald to de Flassans commanding him to lay down his arms, to which the latter replied that he would do nothing of the kind, but would await de Crussol.

  Realizing the temper of the Huguenots, de Crussol had no alternative but to accept the challenge thrown out by de Flassans. Accordingly he set out towards Barjols, and, in passing through Salon, decided to visit Nostradamus and ask of him what would be the outcome of his enterprise.

  The seer received the inquiring soldier, and in reply to his question told him that “he would leave the trees laden with new fruit” (gu’ily laisserait les arbres charges de nouveaux fruits).

  In the result of the expedition will be seen the grim truth of this prediction. The King’s troops inflicted a severe defeat upon the Huguenots, and, forcing the town, captured a great number of prisoners, most of whom were hanged as rebels and heretics. So numerous were the executions that it is said there were few trees in the neighbourhood which were without their ghastly testimony to the hatred between Catholic and Huguenot. This, in itself, was an omen — a foreshadowing of that bloody harvest in the orchards of the King which later was to redden the annals of France.

  Almost every day Nostradamus predicted events which seldom failed to occur at the time he had foretold, and, in consequence, his prophecies became the subject of fierce debate amongst the learned of the period. Naturally enough, he made for himself enemies as well as friends. The former asserted that his gift of prophecy was the outcome of a compact with the devil, whilst the latter replied hotly that he was divinely inspired; and here we may give a verse from Ronsard, then regarded as the prince of French poets, in which he addresses this reproach to France:

  Tu te mocques aussi dès Prophètes que Dieu

  Choisit en tes enfans, et les fait au milieu

  De ton sein aparoistre, afin de te prédire

  Ton malheur à venir, mais tu n’en fais que rire.

  I venture to render it as follows:

  Nor heedest thou Prophets; for when God hath blest

  Some one of thy kindred, some child of thy breast, —

  With grace to forewarn thee of menaces near,

  Thy greeting is laughter, thine answer a jeer.

  Meanwhile, despite the slander of his enemies, the renown of Nostradamus was such that he attracted to his house learned prelates of the Church, illustrious soldiers, and eminent men of every profession, who considered themselves honoured in having been entertained by the physician and seer of Salon. Even dukes, princes, kings, and queens paid him the honour of visiting the town to consult him.

  Never had Salon seen so rich and so numerous a company, or so continuous a flow of highly placed personages as these, who came to pay homage to the great man, to listen to his lectures, or to receive treatment at his hands. It was a veritable pleasure, we are told, to hear Nostradamus, and they counted themselves fortunate who entered into conversation with him. He differed in many respects from other physicians of the period, but notably in one — he cured.

  The name of Nostradamus, then, had long been pronounced with the most profound respect when an event occurred which added a new lustre to his reputation. In 1546 a horrible scourge broke out in the town of Aix and physicians were summoned to arrest the progress of the disease. So swift was its operation, so deadly, that many of them were themselves stricken down by the pestilence; some, lacking the means and skill to cope with it, left the dying of Aix to their fate; an
d, at last, most of the others, panic-ridden by the ghastly thing that clammily had enveloped the town, fled.

  And so the grim angel swept on his way, touching with uncleanness strong men, who in an hour became weak, in a day welcomed death; touching babes in their mothers’ arms and distorting their frail bodies with that venomous touch; seizing upon the weeping mothers as they bent over the little sufferers, and stretching them agonized beside their babies. Such was the Plague.

  The Comité of the town assembled — a fearful gathering, for no man knew if his neighbour were stricken, no man knew if he himself were clean. It was decided unanimously to send a deputation to wait upon Nostradamus and to beg of him to assist them in their hour of need.

  He delayed not an instant. Leaving his wife and family, the great physician hurried to the scene of the contagion. Despair was written upon every face; hope was banished from this ancient and opulent town, now sorrowful and desolate.

  Fearlessly, the famous doctor passed through the hospitals, remaining for hours beside the afflicted people that he might study the causes and progress of the disease. Having assured himself of the nature of the plague, he devised remedies by the aid of which he snatched back to life many who had stood upon the very threshold of death. It is a golden name in the annals of Provence, that of Michel de Notre Dame, called a sorcerer.

  Astruc, in his Mémoires, says on the subject of the plague of 1546 and of the deliverer of the town of Aix: “Nostradamus accepted any work that was offered to him, however dangerous; and so long as the plague lasted, he neglected nothing in his efforts to relieve the sufferings of its victims.” It was on this occasion that he made great use of a certain powder to disperse the pestilential odours, of which he has given the composition in his Traité des Fards.