Revered and Reviled

by L A Vocelle

  Are you the uniformed cat that Fionn had,

  That hunted wild from glen to glen?

  Had Oscar you at the Battle of Bal-sguinn,

  And left your heroes wounded there?

  You drank the milk Catherine had,

  For entertaining minstrel and meeting;

  And why should I praise you?

  You migh to be, like my kitten,

  On the bill side seeking mice,

  ‘Neath grayish grassy stems and bramble bushes (Campbell, 2003, pp. 40-41).

  There is no record of Petrarch (1304-1374) writing about his cat. Even so, this great poet laureate of Rome, and the creator of the term ‘Dark Ages’, was known to have loved his cat so much that he had it mummified after its death and placed in a glass case in his house in Arqua, Italy (figure 5.15). A travel journal written in 1893 offers a description of his house and the cat. “From this dining-room opens, to the right, the door of the room which they call Petrarch's library; and above the door, set in a marble frame, with a glass before it, is all that is mortal of Petrarch's cat, except the hair. Whether or not the fur was found incompatible with the process of embalming, and therefore removed, or whether it has slowly dropped away with the lapse of centuries, I do not know; but it is certain the cat is now quite hairless, and has the effect of a wash-leather invention in the likeness of a young lamb. On the marble slab below there is a Latin inscription, said to be by the great poet himself, declaring this cat to have been “second only to Laura.”† We may, therefore, believe its virtues, have been rare enough; and cannot well figure to ourselves Petrarch sitting before that wide-mouthed fireplace, without beholding also the gifted cat that purrs softly at his feet and nestles on his knees, or, with thickened tail and lifted back, parades loftily round his chair in the haughty and disdainful manner of cats” (Howells, 1872, p. 226).

  Figure 5.15. Earliest image of Petrarch’s Cat Found in Giacomo Filippo Tomasini’s, Petrarcha Redivivus, Massimo Ciavolella and Roberto Fedi, eds., Padua, 1635

  During the 13th and 14th centuries the cat became an important symbol of the beauty of nature in Persian poems. Julaluddin Rumi

  (1207-1273) in the Divan-I Kabir writes,

  Rosebuds

  Surrounded by thorns:

  Mother cat carrying babies in mouth

  (Fragos, 2005, p. 36).

  Around the same time as Chaucer and Petrarch, a Persian Sufi Master named Hafiz (1325-1389) also wrote a poem about his cat.

  Who Will Feed My Cat

  I

  Will need

  Someone to feed my cat

  When I leave this world,

  Though my cat is not ordinary.

  She only has 3 paws:

  Fire, air,

  Water

  (Ladinsky, 1999, p. 145).

  A cat plays a pivotal role in the true story of Sir Richard Whittington, who became the Lord Mayor of London from 1397-1420, and was knighted by Henry V. The story, not written down until 1605, describes the plight of a poor, destitute orphan by the name of Dick Whittington. The boy goes to London in search of a better life and is taken in and given a job by the Fitzwarrens, a merchant family. Given a room that is filled with rats, he buys a cat with his first penny earned. The cat soon kills all the rats and because it is such a good ratter, it is taken aboard the Fitzwarren’s ship. While traveling, the captain sells the cat for a handsome treasure to the King of Barbary, who was also plagued by such vermin. When the ship returned, the treasure was shared with the boy who became a wealthy man and the Lord Mayor of London three times (figure 5.16). Even though based on a similar Persian tale written in the 10th century, there is no doubt that Dick Whittington was a real person who became a rich and benevolent man giving generously to many charities. As touching proof that Lord Whittington never forgot to whom he owed his gratitude, there is a bas-relief, which was part of a 15th century chimney piece in Whittington’s home, showing a boy with a cat in his arms. Discovered in 1862, it is now housed in the Gloucester Folk Museum.

  Figure 5.16. Lord Mayor of London, Dick Whittington, by R. Elstrack, 1618

  THE CAT IN MEDIEVAL ART

  From literature the cat sprang onto medieval European canvases depicted as a force of evil and chaos, fertility and licentiousness, a mouse catcher, or simply as a disinterested spectator. In the 1475 painting Pilate Washes his Hands, a white cat lies at the side of Pilate perhaps an indication of the influence of evil as Pilate sentences Christ to death. In the 1480 painting Girl Making a Garland by Hans Suess Von Kulmbach, a girl sits in a window frame making a garland. The sash says “forget me not” while a white cat sits in the opposite blackened window frame disinterestedly watching her. In another work from the same year, anonymously painted in the style of the Venetian school, entitled Birth of the Virgin, a tranquil domestic scene reveals a woman just having given birth, sitting up in a bed ready to accept some eggs offered to her by St. Anne. Another woman in the forefront of the painting has just washed and swaddled the new born Mary, while a dark colored cat walks alongside the bed, having just entered the room from the open door on the right of the picture. The cat could be a representation of the usual housecat, but its color makes us think that it may forebode some sort of doom. It could, of course, simply be a reference to fertility. In the 15th century painting by Israhel Van Meckenem, The Spinner and the Visitor (figure 5.17), a male visitor holds his sword in a suggestive manner as a cat, a symbol of temptation, looks at us. The painting is a representation of solicitation, the woman a prostitute.

  Figure 5.17. The Spinner and the Visitor, Israhel van Meckenem, 1495/1503, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

  During this period, Chinese Ming Dynasty artists, unlike their European counterparts, focused their paintings on cats in tranquil natural outdoor settings. In Cats and Bamboo by Shen Chou (1427-1509)(figure 5.18) two white cats with red tassel and gold bell collars are demurely looking toward the artist, while a third brown cat approaches the other two. In Cats and Grasses, also from the Ming Dynasty, T’ao C’heng portrays twenty-two cats in various poses enjoying a day out. Moreover, the Emperor Hsuan Tsung (1426-1435) is said to have found great pleasure in painting cats in his garden. Depicted as a seemingly peaceful part of an accepted nature, there is great care taken in these cats’ representations, which are permeated with a certain love and respect.

  Figure 5.18. Cats and Bamboo, Shen Chen-Lin, Ching Dynasty 1644-1912, National Palace Museum, Taipei

  CAT INVENTIONS

  Not only were cats inspirations for paintings, but they also became the models for strange tortuous inventions. In 1549, a cat organ was made in honor of Philip II of Brussels. A large bear played the organ that contained up to twenty cats perched in separate compartments. The parts of their tails that extended outside the box were tied to cords attached to the keyboard. When the bear hit a key, it pulled the cat’s tail, and the cat would scream, amusing sadistic onlookers (Champfleury, 2005) (figure 5.19).

  Figure 5.19. Cat Organ, Gaspar Schott, Magia Naturalis, 1657

  Cats’ tails were also used as an inspiration for an instrument of human punishment. The cat-o-nine-tails consisted of nine round spiked metal balls interspersed down two leather straps which could easily slice into vulnerable flesh (figure 5.20).

  Figure 5.20. Cat o’Nine Tails, Woodcut, 1549, Cosmographic Universelle of Munster, Basle

  Another odd invention, created by Conrad Kyeser (1366-1405), a German engineer, was a battle wagon made in the shape of a cat. Using the cat’s fear-inspiring presence to further strike terror into those who would come upon it, Kyeser did not forget to include the cat’s sharpened claws (Kieckhefer, 2000). Later, cats would also be expected to participate in warfare. In a 1607 drawing, a German fortress is an object for attack by fire. Attached to the backs of a cat and dove are flammable bombs that they must carry to the fortress in order to destroy it kamikaze style (figure 5.20).

  Figure 5.21. Ein wahres Probiertes und Pracktisches geschriebenes Feuerbuch, F
ranz Helm, 1607, Folger Shakespeare Library, Washington, D.C.

  WITCHCRAFT AND PERSECUTION AND THE SUPERNATURAL ABILITIES OF CATS

  During roughly the same time that Emperor Hsuan Tsung was lovingly painting cats in China, in Europe, with the advent of witch and heresy trials ushered in by the Inquisition, the cat was being subjected to the cruelest period of its history. Swept up into the divine plan of the church to undermine the power of women and to eradicate the ancient pagan beliefs, the black cat, in particular, became the symbol of witchcraft and heresy. In part, the cat’s own double nature aided its persecution. In many ways, the elusive feline stands between this world and the unknown making it a dualistic, mystical creature. Suddenly appearing in a room and then disappearing, needy yet aloof, lazy yet attentive, loving yet vicious with eyes that seemingly see into one’s soul, the cat is unpredictable, and can never be completely tamed. Unlike the subservient, dependent dog, it cannot be controlled and sets the terms of any relationship. Hence, our frowned-upon feline and, to some extent, women were feared and loathed by men in the Middle Ages, who deluded themselves with the idea that they were the masters of this world and should hold dominion over all. Even so, not everyone detested the cat during this time, and society reflected the dichotomy of this love/hate relationship.

  The first truly abominable act in the whole repertoire of diabolical plays wherein the cat was the main tortured character had been going on in Scotland since pagan times, and was appallingly last practiced on the Island of Mull in the seventeenth century. Taigheirm, which means to summon evil spirits, required a brutal sacrifice of black cats to the devil in order for the torturers to be granted two wishes. The last two Scots to practice this horrendous rite of continuously roasting live cats on a spit were Lachlan Maclean and Allan Mac Echan. Commencing at midnight between Friday and Saturday, the rite lasted four days and nights. Impaled on a spit, cats were slowly burned alive so that their shrieks of pain would be audible to the dark spirits that the two men wished to summon. Once one cat finally died, another was immediately put upon the spit so that hardly any lapse in the cries of pain occurred. After some time, black cats were said to have started flying around the barn or house where the rite was performed calling out, “Laclain oer,” or “Injurer of cats” (Van Vechten, 1921, p. 100), even so, these two cowardly men were able to continue turning the spit. Finally, a huge black demon cat would materialize and threaten the men to make them stop. Once the four days had passed, and dozens upon dozens of cats had been killed, the men, due to their vicious acts, were free to demand their wishes of wealth and prosperity. The devil then, disguised as the demon cat, begrudgingly granted all their wishes.

  The ritual of the Taigheirm was perhaps the most shocking evidence of the cat being equated with the devil, but not long after the Vox in Rama, as previously discussed, was issued in 1233, accusations of witchcraft involving the cat began to rise amongst common people. Usually these accusations were founded on disputes between neighbors over land or animals or even based on maniacal schemes of stealing a person’s cash wealth. One of the first accusations of witchcraft was brought against the Lady Alice Kyteler in Kilkenny, Ireland in 1318. The sinister plot revolved around the fact that she had been married four times, and her step children wanted her fortune. Luckily for the step children, it was just at this time that the inquisition had arrived in Ireland offering them the opportunity to accuse her of sorcery and witchcraft by claiming that she had cast spells that had aided her in the murder of her previous husbands. They also accused her of communicating with Robin Artisson, a demon that appeared before her as a cat. Fortunately, due to her being a woman of wealth and social standing, she managed to escape to England and save her life.

  In 1323, a group of monks, of the Cistercian order near Paris, sought to recover some money that had been stolen from their monastery. Desperate to find the culprit, the monks consulted a sorcerer who instructed them to bury a black cat in a box at the middle of four crossroads. The trapped cat was given an air tube by which to breathe as well as food and water. The monks were told to stand in a circle on a cat skin and summon the demon Bevita, who would tell them who the thieves were (Kieckhefer, 1998). After some time, a hunter with his dogs passed by. The dogs smelled the cat and began to dig up the box. Once the cat was discovered, the authorities in the city of Chateau Landon found the maker of the box and one of the monks. After confessing to witchcraft, both were burned at the stake with one having the live cat tied around his neck (Williams, 1967).

  An accused witch, Riccola di Puccio, was executed in Pisa in 1347 for using magic to cause a husband and wife to split up. The spell called for her to recite charms over an egg from a black hen summoning Mosectus, Barbectus and Belsabact. She then cut the egg in half and gave one part to a female cat and the other to a male dog while chanting, “In the name of the aforesaid demons may one love between the two be sundered as this egg is divided between dog and cat, and let there be such affection between them as between this dog and cat” (Kieckhefer, 1998, p. 74).

  In 1427, St. Bernardo of Siena confessed that he had erroneously indicted a woman, whom he had accused of killing a child and thirty others, by applying an emollient to her skin that supposedly left a mark in the shape of a cat.

  Cats, already feared as being vampires in Japan and China and in some Baltic countries, were soon accused of such activity in Europe. Antonio Guaineri, a respected physician, claimed in 1440 that witches could assume the form of cats, and these witches became vampires that drank the blood of infants (Waddell, 2003) (figure 5.22). Later on, cats would be known to suck blood from varying places on their mistresses’ bodies. Marks of this kind found on the body of an accused witch invariably lead to a trial, torture, confession and perhaps execution. †.

  As early as 1211, Gervase of Tilbury claimed from his own experience that women prowled around at night as cats and, if hurt in any way, showed those wounds on their bodies (Summers, 1926). A German, Johann Hartleib, in 1456 recounted a story of a cat that had attacked a child and escaped even though stabbed by the father. Later, a woman was found to have a wound in the same place as the cat (Trachtenberg, 1939), indicating that the woman was able to shape shift; consequently, she was accused of being a witch.

  Another such story is of a haunted mill that had been set on fire threetimes until a travelling tailor offered to keep watch over it. The tailor drew a circle in white chalk inside the mill and wrote the Lord’s prayer around the sides of the circle and sat within it for protection. At midnight, cats started to enter the mill carrying pitch, and after heating it, tried to tip the pot over in order to set the mill on fire.

  Figure 5.22. The Witches Sabbath, Studio of Hans Baldung Grien, 1515, Musée de l'Oeuvre Notre-Dame, Strasbourg

  The tailor, still within his circle of safety, somehow managed to scare the cats away. However, one cat tried to attack him, and the tailor, in self-defense, cut off its paw. The next day the mill was still standing, but the miller’s wife was in bed with a bleeding stump (Reppelier, 1901).

  In a story from Ireland, a fisherman’s wife in Connemara always had an abundance of fish. However, every night she noticed that a huge cat would come in and eat all her best catch. So she lay in wait for the cat, and one night it appeared. A huge black cat broke into the house and moved toward the fire where it turned around and growled at the old woman. The cat, annoyed at how she had maligned him, jumped upon her and scratched and bit her. A man confronted the cat in the doorway as it was making its escape and beat it with his stick. As a result, the cat jumped up at him and scratched his face and hands. The cat then said, “It is time for my dinner. Where is my fish?” The woman screamed at the cat to get out and leave, but instead the cat sat and ate to his heart’s content. The woman tried to beat him without success, as each time she tried the cat would jump upon her and scratch and bite until blood flowed. Finally, she brought a bottle of holy water and threw it on him, and the cat shriveled up into nothing† (Speranza Wilde, 1887).
/>
  On the other hand, around the same time there were positive stories about the cat. In another Irish story, an old woman was sitting up late spinning when she heard a knock at the door. She asked who was there three times, but there was no response. The woman grew angry but when she heard a frail voice say, “Judy, let me in I am cold and hungry, let me sit by the fire,” she felt sorry for the person begging for kindness behind the door and opened it. To her amazement, a black cat and her two white kittens walked in and went directly to the fireplace where they proceeded to warm and clean themselves while purring with satisfaction. The black cat finally told the old woman that the fairies had wanted to hold a meeting in her house, but because the old woman had stayed up so late, she had prevented them from doing so. In retaliation, they swore to kill her; however, the black cat had saved her life. Do not interfere with the fairy hours, the black cat advised, and asked Judy for a drink of milk. Thanking the woman, the black cat and her kittens ran up and out of the chimney leaving a small piece of silver for the woman’s kindness (Speranza Wilde, 1887).

  In a story from France, a woman went to sleep over-night in a haunted house with her little white cat and a leg of lamb in order to earn 1,000 francs. That night she cooked the lamb and shared it with her cat. The cat, being grateful for her mistress’ generosity, advised her on how to avoid the wrath of the ghost. She did as the cat said and the ghost did not bother her, and she received the sum of money. The next night her neighbor decided to try and earn the same reward. She, likewise, took her cat and some lamb into the haunted house. However, she did not share the lamb with her cat. The angered cat then hid and let the ghost eat her mistress, a clear message not to deprive a cat.

  MALLEUS MALEFICARUM OR THE HAMMER OF WITCHES