麻豆传媒

THE stories must have sent a chill through Paris鈥檚 elegant society. Beginning in March 1693, a genteel literary journal called Mercure Galant published a series of macabre articles documenting a plague of undead corpses in Poland and Russia. 鈥淭his reviving being鈥� comes out of his grave, or a demon in his likeness, [and] goes by night to embrace his near relations or his friends,鈥� Pierre Des Noyers, a scholar and former secretary to Queen Marie-Louise of Poland, reported in their May issue. It then 鈥渟ucks their blood so much as to weaken and attenuate them, and at last cause their death鈥�.

The only solution was to behead the corpse and drive a stake through its heart, Des Noyers wrote. These creatures, so filled with stolen blood that it poured out of their ears and eyes, went by a name that sounds strangely familiar today: oupires.

Long before vampires became the dashing stars of Victorian fiction, these creatures were a serious concern for scholars like Des Noyers. If their theories seem senseless in the light of modern science, it is important to remember just how eerie a decaying body can appear. A corpse鈥檚 lips can be specked with blood, for example, and the torso can appear bloated, as if they have just eaten (see 鈥淒iary of death and decay鈥�). Thanks to modern forensic science, we now know that this is caused by a build-up of gas in the bowels, which pushes blood up through the lungs and out of the mouth. In medieval and early modern Europe, however, these processes were far from obvious.

鈥淏elief in vampires at the time was not necessarily 鈥榠rrational鈥� or 鈥榮uperstitious鈥�,鈥� says , a historian at the National Center for Scientific Research (CNRS) in Paris, France. 鈥淭he scientific and religious background beliefs were very different from today.鈥�

Vermeir first chanced upon the Mercure Galant articles while researching the peculiar claims of a mystic 鈥渁ble to find criminals with his divining rod鈥�. Intrigued that serious scholars had entertained the subject of vampirism, he has since combed through their work to see when and why they abandoned their supernatural beliefs for a more modern understanding of the reports ().

Vampire-like phenomena were already deeply embedded in folklore by the time of the Mercure Galant stories. William of Newburgh, a 12th-century English historian and canon, was one of the first to chronicle the belief, with an account of an apparent rampage near Anantis Castle (possibly in Dumfriesshire, Scotland). Villagers, he wrote, were 鈥渂eaten black and blue by this vagrant monster鈥�. Searching for the source of the attacks, they exhumed a corpse 鈥渟uffused with blood鈥� It might have been taken for a leech鈥�. A brave villager, William records, then 鈥渓aid open its side by repeated blows of the blunted spade, and thrusting in his hand, dragged out the accursed heart鈥�.

The creatures portrayed in these early reports weren鈥檛 yet the bloodsuckers of Des Noyers鈥檚 article, though. The blood around the corpse鈥檚 lips was instead believed to be a consequence of their tendency to feed on bodies in the neighbouring graves. Terrified locals sometimes took drastic action to quell this habit; recent excavations near Venice, Italy, found a 16th-century female corpse with a brick jammed between her teeth, apparently to prevent her from snacking on neighbours. When it came to their living victims, however, these creatures were thought to be more likely to hit people than to bite them.

Even the later reports, beginning with the Mercure Galant stories, describe very different creatures from the glamorous vampires that grace modern films. For one thing, they weren鈥檛 mysterious nobility like Dracula, but an undead version of the fellow down the block you never got on with. They could also enjoy the midday sun without turning into ash, and, in a blow to their modern reputation as meticulous preeners, they smelled awful.

鈥淲e almost perished from the stench,鈥� wrote 17th-century French naturalist Joseph Pitton De Tournefort after witnessing an exhumation of a suspected vampire. He was unconvinced by the claims of paranormal activity, however, though he admitted that the superstitious fear surrounding the attacks was tangible among the locals, with many families fleeing their homes to escape the menace.

Sacramental protection

Elsewhere, people resorted to curiously sacramental measures to protect themselves from the vampire threat. Des Noyers noted that after opening a suspected vampire鈥檚 grave, 鈥渢here proceeds from his body a great quantity of blood, which some mix up flour to make a bread of; and that bread eaten in the usual manner protects them鈥�.

Following the appearance of the Mercure Galant articles, reports of vampires multiplied, peaking in Hungary in the early 18th century. At the same time, Enlightenment scholars, in their search for the rational truth, were beginning to look for verifiable explanations of the phenomena behind the stories. 鈥淚n the 18th century there was a willingness to examine this belief,鈥� says , a historian of science at the Central European University in Budapest, Hungary.

The summer of 1725 provided the perfect opportunity. Reports emerged from Kisiljevo, a village 75 kilometres east of Belgrade in modern-day Serbia, of a rampaging deceased peasant called Peter Plogojowitz. After rising from his grave, he had supposedly strangled nine villagers in one week, and appeared at his house to demand shoes from his terrified wife.

Caving into demands from Plogojowitz鈥檚 neighbours, a local functionary, Imperial Provisor Frombald, finally allowed them to exhume the body. They met a chilling sight. 鈥淭he body, except for the nose, which was somewhat fallen away, was completely fresh,鈥� he reported. 鈥淚 saw some fresh blood in his mouth.鈥� The body also appeared to have newly grown hair and nails, and to have new skin shedding the old.

鈥淭he body, except for the nose, which was fallen away, was completely fresh. I saw some blood in the mouth鈥�

Plogojowitz鈥檚 case drew the attention of German scholar Michael Ranft, whose subsequent 1728 study De Masticatione Mortuorum in Tumulis ascribed natural causes to the signs of vampirism. That chewing sound from graves? Rats. The apparent growth of hair and nails? Just the natural result of bodily decay. The same goes for the leaking blood and the sloughing of skin. As for the body being swollen with blood, this was familiar post-mortem bloat, and the dramatic 鈥済roan鈥� of a staked vampire was the sound of the gas escaping. Even the body鈥檚 eerie state of preservation meant little, since most exhumed vampires had only been dead a short while; other corpses buried nearby might be similarly preserved.

It sounds like a model of Enlightenment thinking, except for one thing: Ranft still believed in vampires. 鈥淲hat makes Ranft鈥檚 work special,鈥� Vermeir notes, 鈥渋s that he accepts as true that 鈥榲ampires鈥�, or so-called masticating corpses, have a malignant influence on the living.鈥�

Like many of his contemporaries, Ranft believed in the power of the imagination, which was thought to be the cause of physical diseases like the plague. A pregnant woman鈥檚 thoughts could even damage her unborn child, if they were wicked enough. Ranft supposed that this visceral force lingered after death, and could arise as a vapour from the decaying body. He concluded that it was these powerful emanations that allowed Plogojowitz to pursue his vendettas against individuals after his death, somehow inducing such terrifying visions of vampiric attack in his victims that they died as a result.

Ranft鈥檚 theory didn鈥檛 exactly quell the fear of vampirism, and a new panic erupted in the Serbian village of Medvegia in the late 1720s that lasted for four years. Arnold Paole, a soldier who died after a fall from a hay cart, was the accursed creature at the centre of the scare, having apparently returned from the dead to kill at least 17 of his neighbours, who subsequently became vampires themselves. Unlike the previously reported cases of vampirism, though, Paole did not constrain his attacks to his foes; even innocent bystanders suffered from his fury.

His regimental doctor, Johannes Fluchinger, oversaw the mass exhumations in the midst of the hysteria. The reports of his findings, published in 1732, were sensational. 鈥淭here was,鈥� Fluchinger reported, 鈥渁n eight-day-old child which had lain in the grave for ninety days and was similarly in a condition of vampirism.鈥�

Vampires now became an international phenomenon. Paole鈥檚 case was reported across Europe, spawning the first known appearance of the English term 鈥渧ampire鈥� in a 1732 letter to the London Journal, which warned that 鈥渃ertain dead Bodies (call鈥檇 here Vampyres) had kill鈥檇 several Persons鈥�.

The account was infamous enough to be widely repeated in literature for decades afterwards. By 1755, Hungary鈥檚 Queen Maria Theresa had heard enough. She sent her personal physician, Gerard van Swieten, to investigate the reports. His findings were similar to Ranft鈥檚, but without a belief in the powers of the imagination. 鈥淕ravediggers assured me that it was common for about one of every thirty corpses to be desiccated without putrefaction,鈥� van Swieten wrote. The reaction of villagers to these exhumations, he announced, was down to simple ignorance. A subsequent decree banned exhuming the 鈥渦ndead鈥� without special permission. Finally, the vampire menace began to slowly recede from medicine and into mythology.

But De Masticatione Mortuorum in Tumulis might still have one lesson to offer. 鈥淭he best way to end such plagues, according to Ranft, is to reconcile oneself with one鈥檚 neighbours,鈥� says Vermeir. Even if you don鈥檛 believe in vampires, that sounds like reasonable advice.