Providentia

Exploring the Beast Within

In the autumn of 1572, after a rash of animal attacks in the woods near Dole, France, the local peasants were authorized to seek out the werewolf assumed to be responsible. There were few actual sightings of the animal, but the "loup-garou" had carried off several small children and attacked horsemen who had driven it away "only with great difficulty and danger to their persons."   The peasants were instructed "to assemble with pikes, halberts, arquebuses, and sticks, to chase and to pursue the said were-wolf in every place where they may find or seize him; to tie and to kill, without incurring any pains or penalties." Despite their search, it was only on November 8 of that year that peasants came upon a "monstrous creature" attacking a young girl. The creature was driven off, although the girl later died of her injuries. Even in the darkness, some of the peasants thought they recognized the creature as a local hermit named Gilles Garnier.

Garnier was not popular in the region and was arrested after fifty witnesses filed depositions against him. Whatever protests of innocence he had were quickly ended by a session on the rack which "persuaded" him to confess to the charges. Garnier was sentenced to be burned alive at the stake and "that his ashes be then scattered to the winds." He was also ordered to bear all court costs, and the sentence was carried out on January 18, 1573.

A similar case came to trial in 1603 involving a mentally disturbed (and possibly intellectually challenged) boy named Jean Grenier. Following reports of animal attacks on children in Gascony, France, Grenier confessed to attacking and eating some of the children involved. He also stated that he was part of a werewolf "coven" and transformed himself using a "wolf's skin" given to him by a mysterious stranger. Survivors of the attacks confirmed Grenier's testimony, and he was found guilty. In a remarkable move for the time, the court concluded that Grenier was mentally ill (but possessed) and sentenced him to a Franciscan monastery for the rest of his life. When visited in the monastery years later, he was reported to be "diminutive in stature, very shy, and unwilling to look anyone in the face. His eyes were deep-set and restless; his teeth long and protruding; his nails black, and in places worn away; his mind was completely barren; he seemed unable to comprehend the smallest things". Grenier died at the age of 20.

An estimated 30,000 cases of lycanthropy were reported in Europe between 1520 and 1630 alone,  all of which were linked to the witchcraft mania occurring during the same period. Witches were frequently accused of changing themselves into cats or rabbits and attending demonic Sabbaths to meet Satan. Werewolves, in turn, were accused of transforming themselves with the Devil's aid. Convicted werewolves and witches were often condemned to be burned alive (except in England, where they were merely hanged).

The werewolf hysteria seemed to be largely fuelled by lurid stories of wolf attacks (which were more likely due to wild dogs) and only subsided when wolves were hunted to virtual extinction across Europe. The growing recognition that testimony obtained through torture was basically unreliable probably contributed to this decline (waterboarding advocates take note). The last major werewolf panic was in Gevaudan, France, following a series of killings by a "wolf-like creature" between 1763 and 1767. The killings were never solved.

While clinical lycanthropy (the delusion of changing into an animal) remains a recognized psychiatric condition, actual cases are rare (I've never encountered a case myself, alas, although I remain hopeful). Reports in the forensic literature of clinical lycanthropy patients committing violent acts are even rarer (but they have happened). Modern cases of lycanthropy tend to occur in people suffering from broader psychiatric conditions such as schizophrenia. Along with the classic werewolf delusion, there have also been reported cases of patients believing themselves changed into other types of animals, including dogs, frogs, and bees. While werefrogs do not evoke the same superstitious terror associated with werewolves, the unusual nature of this kind of psychopathology makes for fascinating reading.

Treatment seems to be straightforward as lycanthropic delusions respond well to medication (no burning necessary). Despite the popularity of werewolf movies in the past few years, there has been no evidence of any upsurge of cases, and the condition remains rare. Although werewolves live on as a cultural phenomenon, the hysteria that condemned Gilles Garnier to death has mercifully subsided (I hope).

Click here for a recent case history.

 

The Woyzeck Case

While cases of religious ecstasy are hardly unusual, there are definitely examples that tend to stand out.

In 1728, in the Parisian cemetery of St. Medard, a phenomenon began that quickly became the talk of France. Following the burial of a pious, Jansenist bishop named Francois de Paris in the cemetery, stories arose of miraculous cures being worked at the bishop's tomb. Pious female parishioners, who later became known as St. Medard's convulsionaries, were described as engaging in "contortions and convulsive movements, attended by cries, shrieks, and groans, all of which were regarded as manifestations of divine power." The adherents would work themselves into states of religious ecstasy and engage in acts of severe torture which they either inflicted on themselves or through the actions of assistants known as Secouristes. They would then reportedly work miracles and cure all forms of the disease.

The massive hysteria that arose led to a crackdown by the police under the King's orders and the eventual closure of the cemetery in 1732. Thousands of convulsionaries were arrested, and the movement went underground. It eventually split into different factions and faded into obscurity (despite briefly reappearing in Paris in 1759). The police action gave rise to a famous epigram: "De par le roi, defense a Dieu De faire miracle en ce lieu. (Louis to God: To keep the peace, here miracles must henceforth cease)." The convulsionaries of St. Medard gained literary immortality through the writings of Voltaire and Diderot.

A less famous but longer-lasting example of religious convulsionaries occurred in the northern Spanish town of Jaca. For centuries, this small town was known for the annual pilgrimage to commemorate its patron saint, Orosia (also spelled Eurosia). Different accounts of Orosia's life exist (and she may have never existed at all), and it remains unclear why she was named the patron saint of the demonically possessed. Still, she became the patron saint of Jaca after her relics were brought there in the eleventh century. From that time until the Church banned the practice in 1947, St. Orosia's convulsionaries took part in a bizarre procession each year on June 25 (the Saint's feast day).

The procession involved the "demonically afflicted" (e.g., epileptics, mentally ill, physically handicapped, and other stricken) and took place in front of the Saint's sarcophagus. The pilgrims would gather to find healing for their various afflictions through participation in the procession and exorcism rituals. In a description of the procession by a medical observer in 1881 (and bear with me here since my Spanish is rusty), the bishop and retinue of friars would start the procession accompanied by music and dancing. "Paralytics, madmen, people with epilepsy, and hysterics would gather during the night before the chest containing the saint's relics. Their infirmity is attributed to possession by a devil, and they seek the devil's elimination. Cramping, muscle contractions, spasmodic grins, and howling are the preamble of the convulsions. They would fall to the ground until they were black and blue, blood spurting from their mouths".

At this point, the exorcism would begin with multiple applications of the rosary and cross, which the convulsionaries would kiss repeatedly. Once the demon was deemed to have fled, the newly healed convulsionaries would jump for joy and scream. It is doubtful whether any actual "cures" occurred (there were certainly no follow-up studies). Still, the sight of the newly-exorcised praising the saint for their healing made for quite a spectacle by all accounts and drew pilgrims from all over the region.

The banning by the Church in 1947 brought an end to St. Orosia's convulsionaries and marked the last example of recurring mass motor hysteria in Europe. Sadly, the use of exorcism in dealing with mental illness continues even today with tragic results. When proper mental health care isn't available, and families seek a cure for their loved ones, what solutions might they turn into desperation?

The Shrinking Penis Panic

In September 2003, news sources documented numerous accounts of mysterious foreigners (origin and description varying with each retelling) in Khartoum, Sudan who were causing penises to disappear by shaking the hands of their victims in public. Details were rarely consistent, but media accounts told of victims who reported that their penises began to "melt into their body" either after shaking hands or using a "penis-melting cyborg comb" that had been given to them by a mysterious stranger.

One Sudan-based columnist went as far as reporting in a foreign-based newspaper that "Even though what I write today will harm 'tourism' in Sudan, I consider it my duty to warn anyone who wants to come to Sudan to refrain from shaking hands with a dark-skinned man. Since most Sudanese are dark-skinned, he had better avoid shaking hands with anyone he doesn't know…". The mysterious hand-shaker (often referred to as `Satan`s Friend`) was said to `drain men`s virility through a handshake and then extort money from victims to regain their lost manhood. The accusations and recriminations were directed against numerous convenient scapegoats, including `Zionist agents` attempting to exterminate the Sudanese by preventing men from procreating. Though medical examinations showed no sexual abnormalities in victims, it took an active intervention on the part of the Sudanese government (including numerous arrests of alleged victims and others accused of practicing `sorcery`) to bring an end to the hysteria.  While it was ultimately deemed a hoax that got out of hand, the furor took a while to subside. 

Despite being the most widely reported outbreak, what happened in Khartoum was only part of an epidemic of genital shrinking hysteria reported in six West African nations between January 1997 and October 2003. There appear to be superficial resemblances to the cultural psychosis known as Koro, but with a significant twist given the nature of the accusations leveled against mysterious `others` who supposedly emasculated African men.   Cases of perceived genital shrinkage have been primarily reported in Southeast Asian males. However, similar cases have been reported in non-Oriental cultures and seem to be associated with a fear of losing sexual potency.

What then are we to make of what happened in Khartoum in 2003?  It seems likely that the epidemic was fuelled by media coverage. Still, the political turmoil resulting from a long and bloody civil war (which has since escalated) probably played a part. There seems to be little available information on psychological or demographic factors that may have made the victims more vulnerable to suggestions.

While `mass hysteria` is a convenient label for outbreaks of unusual symptoms, it seems to mask the very legitimate fears that people in a given time or culture may experience and may emerge in an exaggerated form with the right provocation. For the Sudanese males affected, the fear of ethnic cleansing (including the genuine ethnic cleansing occurring in Darfur) may well have driven the epidemic with various scapegoats (domestic or foreign) being proposed as targets of potential retribution.

While the idea of penis-shrinking hysteria may make for entertaining reading, the paranoia triggered during mass hysteria outbreaks shouldn`t be dismissed so easily.  The violence that can erupt due to mass hysteria has led to some tragic episodes over the years.  Witch-hunts (sometimes literally so) have claimed countless lives through the centuries, and even "civilized" people can form lynch mobs under the right circumstances. 

In other words, don't believe everything you hear (especially if it involves penis-melting combs).   

Skeptics Warning about New "High Meat" Health Trend

"In the beginning, I was a bit sceptical. But my friend has been doing it for over a year. I thought that since he didn't get sick, there was enough empirical evidence to say that I wouldn't get sick.  Then I tried it, and it actually felt pretty good. The first night I tried it, I had some interesting dreams, more vivid and rather odd," 

In an interview with LadBible, Swedish health enthusiast Daniel Larsen hardly seems like the sort of person to risk his health by eating rotten meat.   Still, the 27-year-old Larsen is only the latest to advocate a bizarre new health trend that has gone viral on social media in the past few weeks.    This new trend involves purchasing meat and setting it, either in a refrigerator or in a plastic container, until it begins to rot and ferment.  The meat is then eaten raw, something that consumers claim produces a feeling of euphoria, thus earning it the nickname of "high meat."   Insisting that he isn't bothered by the smell of rotting meat, Larsen adds that it gives him the same effect as drinking two or three beers.  He also claimed to have talked to his family doctor before starting high meat, though what the doctor had to say was not reported.

Since the high meat craze first broke, social media posts about it have become increasingly common.   One Twitter post by an anonymous fitness enthusiast only known as @BlazenBrady presented a picture of what was claimed to be a workout meal.   The picture showed a plate of raw chicken,  bacon, butter, and raw milk.   He ended the post by adding that “Chicken is not bad at all and tastes fine. This meal is my standard meal I usually eat all the time; I eat mainly more steak over chicken, though usually.”    He responded to skeptics by posting a video of him eating the raw meat while speaking to the camera.

So how dangerous is "high meat?"    That largely depends on how contaminated the meat becomes before being eaten.   While uncooked meat isn't necessarily harmful (think sushi or steak tartare), it is still considered unwise due to the potential presence of harmful bacteria such as salmonella.  When the meat is allowed to rot, consumers risk serious stomach upset and, in some cases, acute food poisoning, which is potentially fatal.    While predatory animals can eat uncooked meat without risk, humans lack the stomach acids that destroy harmful bacteria.   While there have been no cases of fatal food poisoning with high meat consumers yet,  some consumers are already reporting episodes of explosive diarrhea and nausea.   

Though the high meat craze will surely fade as all other crazes do, it's hard to imagine that the potential high people are hoping for can be worth the risk.  For now, at least, enjoy your cooked meat and get your high from sensible eating.

 

 

The Freud-Frink Fiasco

Despite becoming a household name later in his life, Dr. Sigmund Freud was not well-known outside of his native Austria during the first two decades of the Twentieth Century.  Along with his relative anonymity, he also had money woes courtesy of the soaring hyperinflation occurring in Austria and Germany following the First World War.   Not only was he having trouble supporting himself and his family, but promoting the psychoanalytic movement he founded was increasingly difficult as well.    Even his medical practice suffered as many patients found themselves unable to afford years of psychoanalysis.

Efforts to expand psychoanalysis to North America through a 1909 American tour helped raise Freud's profile slightly despite his misgivings about American innovators twisting the purity of his theories.  He dreaded the idea of psychoanalysis becoming “Americanized,” especially considering how puritanical Americans were about sex.    Freud even turned down generous offers for further American lecture tours due to his concerns about the “notoriety” involved.  While he managed to publish English-language versions of many of his works (featuring introductions from prominent psychologists such as G. Stanley Hall),  he fought continually with his publicist Edward L. Bernays (who also happened to be his nephew).   Although the royalties from the translated books brought in some revenue, it would be many years before becoming financially independent. 

All of which may have played a role in the peculiar case of Horace  Westlake Frink…

One of Sigmund Freud’s first American disciples, Horace Frink, was a founding member of the New York Psychoanalytic Society and one of the first American books on psychoanalysis, Morbid Fears and Compulsions.  He even traveled to Vienna in 1921 to undergo psychoanalysis from “the master” himself as part of his training as a psychoanalyst.   But Frink had problems in his own right since he suffered from episodes of depression and hypomanic behavior (which would likely get him a diagnosis of bipolar disorder today).   Despite these symptoms, he became Freud's chief American disciple when he began psychoanalysis with Freud.

It was during the course of this psychoanalysis that a brewing scandal was uncovered.  Though Frink was married with two children of his own, he was also having a sexual affair with one of his former patients, Angelika Bijur.  She was a New York heiress married to a much older man, Abraham Bijur. The prospect of breaking up both marriages over this relationship was naturally frightening for the two of them.  This was especially true for Frink since it would have meant losing contact with his children.   And so, Horace Frink and Angelika Bijur both became patients of Freud as a way of avoiding divorce. 

Which, as it happened, was precisely what Sigmund Freud advised for them.   Completely ignoring Frink's depressive episodes and the possibility that he was borderline psychotic,  Freud focused on his sexual frustration issues instead.   Drawing on Frink's history of serious emotional losses (including losing his mother to tuberculosis at an early age), Freud concluded that Frink was an unconscious homosexual.    This was a pet theme for Freud, and he tended to focus on unconscious homosexuality and the Oedipus complex with many of his male patients.    Not only did he recommend that Frink divorce his wife, but he also told Bijur to divorce her husband as well.  He even went so far as to tell her that Frink would likely develop homosexual problems if she didn’t do as he advised.    The fact that Angelika Bijur was also independently wealthy (she had paid for her own therapy and Frink's) may have influenced Freud as well.

Ironically, the problem, and the potential media disaster, of Freud’s role in the breakup of two marriages neatly solved itself.   Frink’s wife died of pneumonia in 1923 (whether or not the trauma of her divorce from Frink contributed to her death is open to question).   As for Abraham Bijur, who was furious at Freud for interfering in his marriage, he died of cancer in May 1922.  The timing of Bijur’s death was extremely fortunate as far as Freud was concerned.   Not only did it make the divorce from Angelika unnecessary, but it also ended Bijur’s planned media campaign against Freud.  Before his death, Bijur had written a  letter denouncing Freud, which he intended to run as an advertisement in several New York newspapers.  Though the letter was never published, Bijur’s denunciation of Freud and his anguished question of whether he was a “savant or charlatan” would likely have destroyed the good doctor's reputation in the United States if he had lived just a little longer.

As for Horace Frink, his mental condition worsened, likely aided by guilt over his first wife’s death.   Despite his marriage to Angelika on December 27, 1922, Frink's mental state deteriorated and ultimately led to being institutionalized.  He and Anjelika were divorced in 1925. 

Sigmund Freud continued pressuring both Horace and Angelika throughout the entire fiasco for money to support the psychoanalytic movement.  In one letter he wrote to Frink in 1921, he suggested that his patient’s failure to acknowledge his own homosexuality was linked to his need to contribute to Freud’s psychoanalytic fund.   When Angelika later told him that her marriage to Frink was falling apart,  Freud sent a telegram which said, “Extremely sorry.  The point where you failed was money.”   As a result, Anjelika abandoned the psychoanalytic movement and felt personally betrayed by Freud.

 With further therapy under his old mentor Adolf Meyer, Frink managed to recover to the point of regaining custody of his children and becoming a stable father to them for years.   Despite hopes for a professional comeback, Frink was expelled from the American Psychoanalytic Society, largely because Freud had lost confidence in his ability to continue as a psychoanalyst.    As a result, Frink and his children were forced to rely on the money they had inherited from his first wife and the divorce settlement he had received from Anjelika.    While he later remarried,  Frink eventually suffered a relapse along with serious heart disease.   He experienced a final psychotic break and died of heart disease at the age of fifty-three.

Though Horace Frink had become disillusioned about psychoanalysis, he continued to hold Freud in high regard.   When asked about him shortly before his death, Frink commented that Freud was a great man, "even if he did invent psychoanalysis."   As for Sigmund Freud, he apparently viewed Frink's mental breakdown as a justification for his anti-American attitudes.   Since Frink had been his choice to lead the psychoanalytic movement in the United States,  this mental instability helped reinforce Freud's mistrust of Americans as a whole.  As he would comment in 1924, "My attempt at giving them a chief in the person of Frink which has so sadly miscarried is the last thing I will ever do for them, had I to live the one hundred years you set down for the incorporation of psychoanalysis into Psychiatry."   The role he played in destroying Frink's first marriage and his later tragedy was conveniently overlooked.   Luckily for Freud, the most embarrassing details of the whole affair would not come out for decades after his death.

Did the prospect of gaining a wealthy patron override Freud’s judgment concerning what was best for his patients?   Although Abraham Bijur's convenient death saved Freud from the public scandal over his role in breaking up two marriages, Sigmund Freud seemed not to have learned any real lesson about needing to separate clinical judgment from his own financial needs.   His desperate search for money during the 1920s seemed to have taken him in some strange directions. Still, the bizarre episode with Horace Frink and Anjelika Bijur represents one of the most serious ethical breaches of his career.    Though Sigmund Freud was still years away from attaining the iconic reputation he would enjoy by the middle of the 20th century, much of that fame depended on keeping his biggest disasters out of the public eye.

Doctors in India Warning Against Use of Cow Dung As Protection from Coronavirus

With over twenty-four million COVID-19 cases already reported in India, a quarter-million fatalities thus far,  and thousands of new fatalities being reported daily,  panic is running rampant across the country.   But India's medical doctors are warning that shortages in critical medical supplies have driven many Hindus to seek alternative 'cures' of doubtful validity.  One of the most bizarre of these reputed cures involves people bathing themselves in cow dung, believing that it will save them from becoming infected.

Since cows are regarded as holy animals by Hindus, cow dung and urine have been used in Hindu healing rituals for centuries because of their supposed antiseptic and therapeutic properties.   Since the pandemic began, however, cow shelters throughout India have been besieged by people wishing to douse themselves in excrement and having it washed off with milk, hoping that it will boost their immune systems and protect them from COVID.    Many Hindu monasteries and schools actively promote cow-dung treatment, and news stories of people insisting that their treatment cured them of the virus remain popular.

But a news release by Dr. JA Jayalal, president of the Indian Medical Association, warns that the cow dung 'cure' is actually useless and may well worsen the pandemic since many people who are already infected often gather in groups with no attempt at social distancing or mask-wearing.  "There is no concrete scientific evidence that cow dung or urine work to boost immunity against COVID-19," he said. "It is based entirely on belief.  There are also health risks involved in smearing or consuming these products - other diseases can spread from the animal to humans."   He lamented that many medical doctors also seek the treatment hoping that it would allow them to tend to patients without safety precautions.

Cow dung therapy is hardly the only alternative remedy people seek out to protect themselves from the pandemic.  Medics in rural parts of Maharashtra state are also warning that patients are being brought to them with marks from hot irons held against their skin by witch doctors in an attempt to "drive the virus out."

With the pandemic showing no signs of easing and international health agencies warning that new COVID-19 variants are already being reported across India, the death toll, which already accounts for a third of all fatalities, will certainly drive the search for a miracle cure.   So cow dung therapy will remain popular, at least for now.  

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Inspiring The Exorcist

Decades after "The Exorcist" premiered in 1973 continues to thrill audiences the world over.  Based on a book by William Peter Blatty, the movie showed the demonic possession of a twelve-year-old girl in a performance that made Linda Blair a horror icon.   But what about the 1949  possession case in St. Lou, MO, that reportedly inspired it?  And what can we say about that case today?

All that we know about the boy at the centre of that case is that his true name remains anonymous, although he was assigned the pseudonym of "Roland Doe" by the Catholic Church (later sources changed the name to "Robbie Mannheim").    Doe, who was thirteen years old in 1949 when the alleged exorcism occurred, was an only child who was born into a German Lutheran family and raised in Maryland.   Later moving with his family to St. Louis, supernatural activity began shortly after the death of a favourite aunt who had been a spiritualist.   Allegedly, she had introduced him to the supernatural along with how to use an Ouija board. 

According to various reports, unexplained occurrences began in the house in which "Robbie" and his family lived.   This included moving furniture, strange noises, and a picture of Jesus rattling on the walls.   When the frightened family turned to their Lutheran pastor for help,  Robbie was examined by clerics and psychiatrists who could find no explanation for what was happening. 

After Robbie spent an evening at the pastor's house, various occurrences led the pastor to conclude that "evil was at work" and arranged for a Lutheran rite of exorcism to be carried out.    According to most accounts, Robbie underwent an Anglican exorcism. When that failed, the case was referred to Reverend Edward Hughes, a Catholic priest, who carried out an exorcism at Georgetown Hospital near Washington, D.C.    During that exorcism, Robbie injured the priest and required him to receive stitches.   The ritual was then stopped, and he was sent home to his family.   

In desperation over Robbie's worsening problems, his family took him to St. Louis University, where two Jesuit priests examined him.   According to the eyewitness accounts still available, Robbie showed many of the classic signs of possession, including aversion to holy symbols,  flying objects, and Robbie speaking in a guttural voice.   After receiving permission from the Archbishop, the Reverend William Bowden and two other priests conducted the exorcism in the psychiatric wing of Alexian Brothers Hospital in St. Louis.    In a diary which Reverend Bowden kept of the exorcism, he reported that words such as "evil" and "hell" erupted on Robbie's skin, and he broke the nose of one of the priests during his violent thrashing.   When the exorcism was finally complete, witnesses reported a loud noise in the hospital.

Robbie went on to have a normal life and reportedly has no memory of the exorcism.  As they reported afterward, all of the priests in attendance were consistent in their belief that it was an actual possession.   Along with inspiring William Blatty's book and the movie of the same name, the case of Robbie Doe/Mannheim was also depicted in the 2000 movie Possessed and a 1997 documentary In The Grip of Evil.   While Robbie himself has never gone public with his experiences, several of the priests who took part in the exorcism, including Father Walter Halloran, insisted that the possession was genuine.

But skeptics examining the various statements made afterward noted key discrepancies that cast doubt on the eyewitness accounts.   In an investigative piece for Strange magazine published in 1997, journalist Mark Opsasnick examined the diary that had been reportedly kept by the lead priest carrying out the exorcism.   He also interviewed Father Halloran and determined that many of the statements attributed to him about the exorcism had been exaggerated by previous reporters seeking to play up the sensational aspects of the story.    The claim that Mannheim had spoken in tongues during his possession was also dismissed by Father Halloran, along with the words that had "miraculously" appeared on his skin.   All of the "supernatural" phenomena reported by eyewitnesses could have been faked by Mannheim himself, possibly as a way of getting attention.   In his own investigation of the Mannheim case, skeptical investigator Joe Nickell largely confirmed the conclusions raised by Opsasnick.

Without being able to interview Robbie directly, there is no way to determine whether he was behind what occurred in 1949.   Despite speculation that mental illness may have played a role in the case, no evidence that he suffered from any of the different diagnoses attributed to him over the years (including Tourette's syndrome,  obsessive-compulsive disorder, and schizophrenia) has ever surfaced.   What evidence there is focuses on eyewitness testimony and all-too fallible memory. 

In the decades since the St. Louis exorcism,  the cultural impact resulting from the events of 1949 has been profound.   Along with The Exorcist, virtually every movie featuring exorcisms has drawn on the long-ago case, either directly or indirectly.   Regularly invoked as proof that demonic possession exists, the case may also have inspired "copycat" possession cases, including the 1978 exorcism-related death of Anneliese Michel, which led to the conviction of the 23-year old woman's parents and the two priests who conducted the exorcism. 

While no clear link was ever proven, there seems little doubt that reports of demonic possession rose sharply in the years following the release of the 1973 movie and that exorcism continues to have strange popularity.    Exorcists are being trained in increasing numbers, and the demand for their services has risen as well.    Almost inevitably, deaths resulting from exorcism continue to be reported but seem not to have dampened people's enthusiasm for believing themselves to be possessed.  

Until "Robbie Doe/Manheim" comes forward or until more reliable evidence surfaces, the mystery surrounding the St. Louis exorcism case will continue to be invoked by the true believers as "proof" that the Devil is at work in the world.   What that might mean for future exorcism cases is anybody's guess.

YouTube Bans Channel Featuring "Violent Exorcisms" of Gays in Nigeria

Until recently, visitors to the Africah channel run by the Synagogue Church of All Nations, a megachurch operating in  Lagos, Nigeria,  could see videos featuring T. B. Joshua, the church's charismatic leader, conducting exorcisms in which he "cast out the demons of homosexuality" on supposedly willing volunteers.   Until Open Democracy, a human rights advocacy group based in the United Kingdom. alerted YouTube concerning the content of those videos, including hate speech and violence aimed at the people Joshua was supposedly attempting to "cure."   In reviewing seven clips of exorcisms shown online between 2016 and 2020,  Open Democracy identified multiple instances of Joshua "engaging in violent exorcism."    This includes one clip showing him pushing one woman's head causing her to hit the floor and then slapping her repeatedly, along with another woman identified only as  "her wife."    The clip then fast forwards to a week later when the first woman proclaims that she feels “no affection whatsoever” for her former partner due to the preacher's actions.  “Now I have affections for men,” she added.

Since sexual minorities have no legal protections in Nigeria, Joshua and his church enjoy enormous popularity with no real restriction on how he conducts exorcisms.  As a result, he is extremely powerful and his YouTube had 1.8 million subscribers until Open Democracy filed its complaint.   As YouTube's guidelines specifically  “prohibits content which alleges that someone is mentally ill, diseased, or inferior because of their membership in a protected group including sexual orientation," they concluded that Joshua and his church crossed the line and terminated the channel.   A similar campaign directed against the Church's Facebook account led to a partial ban on some content although the account remains in place.  

The YouTube decision was praised by other human rights groups as a positive step given the powerful role that social media often plays in spreading hate speech.  A statement by Daina Rudusa of OutRight Action International stated that "It is great to see social media platforms take a greater role in tackling these harmful practices by banning accounts spouting hate speech and promoting conversion practices."  While violence aimed at people belonging to sexual minorities remains prevalent in Nigeria with few daring to be out about their sexuality,  the current YouTube ban represents a positive step preventing the spread of hate speech elsewhere.   At least for now.

 

 

 

 

A Simple Little Operation

Back in the 19th century,  few medical questions were more vexing than what to do with female patients suffering from "hysteria". 

First identified in ancient times, the term hysteria stemmed from the Greek word hystera meaning "uterus" and was believed to be linked to problems involving the female reproductive system.  Symptoms of hysteria included nervousness, melancholia (depression), neurasthenia, irritability, loss of appetite or libido, and "unfeminine" behaviour such as rebellion and promiscuity. 

Given that women were considered mentally inferior to men and suffering from the "curse" of menstruation, women subjected to "serious" subjects such as music and literature were felt to be especially prone to hysteria and unfit for their essential duties of reproduction and child-rearing.  By the dawn of the Victorian era, physicians had implicated an enormous range of symptoms in hysteria cases (which was considered unique to females) and some mental health experts estimated that as many as twenty-five percent of all women suffered from some form of the disease. 

Diagnosis and treatment of hysteria proved to be a financial gold mine for physicians dealing with nervous complaints.  Treatments could include "vaginal massage", (i.e., masturbation), hydrotherapy, electrical stimulation, and use of mechanical massage devices (vibrators).  Although the sexual nature of many of the treatments used seems obvious today, physicians of the time objected to any suggestion that hysteria might be linked to sexual dissatisfaction.  There was also the question of what could be done for more extreme cases, including women in lunatic asylums.  Since many of these female patients engaged in "unacceptable" practices such as masturbation and nymphomania (which was often used to justify committing them in the first place), physicians searched for a viable solution.

Which brings us to Dr. Robert Battey...

Born in Augusta, Georgia in 1828, he trained in medicine and served as a military surgeon during the U.S. Civil War.  After the war, he worked in various hospitals around Rome, Georgia and, in the course of his medical practice, dealt with numerous female patients suffering from hysteria. On August 17, 1872, he performed what would later be referred to as Battey's operation, a.k.a.radical oophorectomy ot the removal of a woman's ovaries.  His patient was a long-term invalid suffering from convulsions, headaches, and other nervous symptoms apparently linked to menstruation.  Despite post-surgical complications, the woman experienced a complete remission of all nervous symptoms (in conjunction with menopause brought on by the procedure). 

The rationale for the operation was straightforward enough: since hysteria and other emotional problems were associated with the menstrual cycle, wouldn't removal of a woman's ovaries cause the symptoms to be alleviated?  While oophorectomies were already being used for treating ovarian cysts, the prospect of radical surgery to deal with non-gynecological maladies seemed to usher in a new age of treatment.

Although Battey was actually not the first surgeon to carry out "Battey's operation", his outspoken advocacy of the surgical procedure ensured that it would be forever associated with his name ("Battey-izing a woman" became  recognized medical slang for the procedure).  Battey and his colleagues stressed that the emotional problems associated with menstruation stemmed from "abnormalities" in the ovaries (even relatively minor ovarian cysts could qualify) and the rush to apply this exciting new development in gynecology began. 

As for the troubling question of whether women patients should be sterilized this way, Battey himself justified the operation by arguing that women who required it were probably sterile anyway.  His followers went even further by suggesting that women "disordered enough" to require the operation would probably have given birth to defective children.  Thus Battey's operation was not only medically justified, but made good eugenic sense as well.

Throughout the 1870s and 1880s, surgeons performed Battey's operation on healthy young women across much of North America and Europe.  While many of these operations were justified on solid medical grounds, a large percentage of cases dealt with women suffering from emotional problems.  As word spread concerning the potential benefits of Battey-izing, even patients came forward asking for the surgery to be done on them despite the obvious risks involved (as many as one in three women died during surgery or as a result of post-surgical complications),   European gynecologists endorsed the Battey operation (which they termed Hegar's operation due to another surgeon who had pioneered the technique) but the most enthusiastic supporters were their American colleagues. 

Although the actual number of these operations will likely never be accurately known (some sources placed is as high as 105,000 operations), the popularity of the procedure in dealing with nervous and mental disorders can't be underestimated.  According to historian Edward Shorter, 51 per cent of all medical articles relating to ovarian surgery described in the 1889 edition of  the Index-Catalogue of the Surgeon-General`s Office, United States Army dealt with psychiatric disorders in women.  By 1907, this had deceased only slightly to 42 per cent.

While some European gynecologists began questioning the actual value of Battey-izing as early as 1884, the Battey-Hegar operation continued to be carried out until well into the 20th century.  Many lunatic asylums had staff gynecologists who performed the procedure on female patients, often without their consent.   By the early 1890s, most "psycho-gynecologists" viewed Battey's operation as a necessary treatment and vigorously opposed any attempt at reining in the practice. 

And it wasn't only ovaries that were removed either. Although not as common as Battey's operation, clitoridectomies (surgical removal of the clitoris) were also practiced on female patients (usually in asylums).   Even in the early 20th century, clitoridectomies were used in cases of compulsive masturbation although surgeons eventually became leery of the operation as more appropriate treatments became available. 

It's hard to think of a single watershed moment when Battey's operation was decisively proven to be unnecessary and dangerous for psychiatric patients.  As time passed, the surgery simply fell out of favour.  While premenstrual syndrome (PMS) is now a recognized medical condition, treatment usually focuses on pharmacological treatments and supportive counseling.  Although Battey's operation continues to be performed (rarely) in cases of ovarian cancer or related pathology, its use in dealing with "troublesome" patients seems long over. 

Still, the long reign of Battey's operation should be an uncomfortable reminder of the dangers of medical fads and "innovative" treatments that likely seemed like a good idea at the time.

The Amazing Henry Slade

The 19^th and early 20^th century was an age of wonder for  spirit mediums and those believing  in their power to communicate with the dead.   

Although belief in spirits and the supernatural goes back for thousands of years,  the Spiritualist movement seemed to reach the peak of its influence from the 1840s to the 1920s.  Seances were held in private homes and drawing rooms across Europe and North America and  phenomena such as automatic writing, table tipping, and spirit rapping were common.   The popularity of spiritualism seemed to stem from the famous converts who attended séances and testified to what they saw and heard.  While early sceptics raised the inevitable suggestion that trickery was being used, the believers, often trained men of science themselves, were quick to insist that they would spot anything fraudulent.  After all, eminent scientists such as  Alfred Russel Wallace, William Crookes, William James, and Charles Richet couldn’t possibly be fooled, could they?

While mediums such as the Fox Sisters, Donald Douglas Hume, and Eusapia Palladino became international celebrities, there was one medium who was definitely in a class by himself:  Dr.  Henry Slade.   Born in 1835 in Johnson’s Creek, New York,  actual details of his early childhood remain scarce (except for the elaborate biography he wrote himself of course).  According to Slade’s own grandiose description of his origins, he began showing signs of his strange power from the age of eight and progressed to  doing feats of levitation by his early teens.  By 1855, he was well established as a medium and  people from all over the country came to  to see his demonstrations. 

What made Slade so unique was his invention of the phenomenon of slate writing.  Although other mediums would be quick to copy his methods, it was Slade who did it first.   In a typical slate writing session,  Slade and the client (also known as a “sitter”) would take their seats at a small table while grasping the corners of an ordinary slate like the kind commonly used by schoolchildren.   The slate was held under the table and all lights were extinguished.   During the séance,  writing sounds were heard and then a series of raps were heard at the end signaling that the message had been written.  When the slate is exposed,  a written message is found (usually in answer to a specific question ask by the sitter). 

 Already calling himself “Dr.” Henry Slade by the time his career began  in 1860 (although nobody knows where or how he acquired the advanced degree that supposedly qualified him for the title),  he became famous for his séances and his slate writing.    A bold showman, Slade publicly offered a $1000.00 reward for anyone who could prove that he was a fraud (a hefty sum in those days).     It also helped that he was a handsome man with a charismatic manner that likely did as much to attract women patrons as his supposed mediumship powers.  After deciding that Europe provided better opportunities, Slade went to London, England in 1876 and quickly began charging hundreds of pounds for his famous sittings. 

Unfortunately,  Slade eventually drew the attention of two arch-skeptics,  Professor Ray Lankester and Dr. Horatio Donkin.  Both men became suspicious of Slade’s methods and laid an elaborate trap for him.   Inventing a non-existent “Uncle John”, Lankester asked Slade for help in contacting his supposedly deceased relative.  In an arranged séance, Slade was placing a supposedly blank slate under the table to prepare for the séance when  Lankester snatched it out of his hands.   The “blank” slate already held the message from “Uncle John” that was supposed to have been written during the séance.  Armed with this evidence of fraud, Lankester and Donkin had Slade arrested.   

It was a sensational trial and generated tremendous publicity across the United Kingdom.   Lankester and  Donkin both testified against Slade.  The star witness though, was magician John Nevil Maskelyne  who successfully imitated all of Slade’s trick right there in the witness box.   Even support from the eminent Alfred Russel Wallace himself wasn’t enough to sway the jury in Slade’s favour.  Based on the overwhelming evidence, Henry Slade was sentenced to three months hard labour.   The sentence was overturned on appeal based on a technicality and, while Lankester was arranging for a new trial, Slade and his manager fled to France.   

While Slade was hoping that he could launch a new career in France,   Lankester had arranged for a colleague to publish the entire account of the court proceedings in the French press.   Though his hopes for France ended quickly, he had better success in Germany where his trickery made a convert of Professor  Johann Karl Zollner (who, ironically enough, is most famous for his work with optical illusions).  With Zollner’s endorsement and the tacit support of many other German scientists (largely relying on Zollner’s reputation rather than testing Slade for themselves),  Henry Slade was back in business.  Later writers have argued that Johann Zollner was half-senile at the time and his support of Slade represents a sad footnote on an otherwise glorious scientific career.

Despite further endorsements from famous theosophists such as Helena Blavatsky,  Henry Slade’s career as a spiritualist definitely soon started going downhill.   After appearing in St. Petersburg and holding séances with several prominent Russian academics and nobles, he was caught out in trickery several times (but still managed to make further converts).  There was also a reference to his attempting to return to London in 1878 and holding séances under the name of “Dr. Watson” but he didn’t stay there long.

By 1884, Henry Slade was back in New York which, unfortunately for him, would be just in time for his last stand.   When Philadelphia philanthropist Henry Seybert died in 1882, he left a sizeable bequest to the University of Pennsylvania to set up a commission to investigate "all systems of Morals, Religion, or Philosophy which assume to represent the Truth, and particularly of Modern Spiritualism."   Although Seybert had been an ardent spiritualist, the outcome of the Seybert Commission was likely not what he had in mind with his bequest.  The ten scholars who made up the Commission  were recruited for their neutral stance on Spiritualism and psychic phenomenon.   From  1884 to 1887, the members of the Commission made it their mandate to investigate various mediums across the country, including Henry Slade. 

The Commission took a special interest in slate writing but none of the mediums that they investigated were able to stand up to their scientific scrutiny.  Henry Slade in particular was disgraced when he was caught cheating.    In the scathing final report that the Commission released in 1887, they  concluded that “our regret that thus far we have not been cheered in our investigations by the discovery of a single novel fact; but, undeterred by this discouragement, we trust with your permission to continue them with what thoroughness our future opportunities may allow, and with minds as sincerely and honestly open, as heretofore, to conviction”. 

Henry Slade never recovered from this blow to his reputation and his career as a medium was effectively over.  By 1892, he succumbed to alcoholism and one source described him as “an inmate of a workhouse in one of our Western towns, penniless, friendless, and a lunatic”.    At his death in 1905 in a Michigan sanitarium,  Slade had one last surprise waiting for his doctors when it was discovered that he was intersexual.    That he managed to keep this concealed for so long is just another one of the mysteries that seemed to mark Henry Slade’s life.