How To Cure Lovesickness, According To The Malleus Maleficarum

In general, the Malleus Maleficarum (a 15th-century witch-hunting manual) is a horrible source for relationship advice. In fact, its passages can often be horribly sexist. For instance, the Malleus Maleficarum stated this lovely line: “it should be noted that there was a defect in the formation of the first woman, since she was formed from a bent rib, that is, a rib of the breast, which is bent as it were in a contrary direction to a man. And since through this defect she is an imperfect animal, she always deceives” (Part I, question 6). Yet, despite their poor credentials for giving relationship advice, the authors of the Malleus Maleficarum decided to touch on the topic of love, and not of the brotherly or sisterly kind. In particular, they sought to educate their readers of ways to escape the clutches of lovesickness.

To the credit of the Malleus Maleficarum, the text did admit that most cases of lovesickness, or excessive lust, longing and infatuation, were likely the result of natural and non-diabolical causes. Therefore, the authors of the Malleus Maleficarum addressed the issue in two ways—cures for natural lovesickness, and cures for witchcraft-caused lovesickness. Specifically, their aim was to educate their readers on how to avoid irreligious relationships and situations such as premarital or extramarital affairs. It was a serious topic for the authors, for they believed “if he cleaves to his earthly love, that will be his sole reward, but he will lose the bliss of Heaven, and be condemned to eternal fire” (Malleus Maleficarum, Part II, question 2, chapter 3).

Cures For Natural Lovesickness

Unmarried Sufferers:

1. For the unmarried sufferer of longing or unrequited love, the Malleus Maleficarum advised, “if the law permits, he may be married to her, and so be cured by yielding to nature” (Part II, question 2, chapter 3). The text also offered an experiment that doctors or parents could try out if they believed a person was made bedridden by lovesickness but would not divulge who it was that caused their affliction. For such a situation, the Malleus Maleficarum advised checking the patient’s pulse while various people came to his or her bedside. If the patient’s heart rate quickened when a certain someone entered the room, the doctor or parent could discover the object of their charge’s desires. If the two were then married in holy matrimony, claimed the Malleus Maleficarum, the lovesickness would be cured.

Married Sufferers:

2. For those who were already married or in situations where chasing their desires would lead to an irreligious or illegal outcome, the Malleus Maleficarum claimed that one option was to take medicine or medicinal supplements. No specifics were mentioned by the authors, but they did stress that when browsing through the dubious love-related potions and herbs, only “lawful remedies” should be used (Malleus Maleficarum, Part II, question 2, chapter 3).

3. Another self-help cure that the Malleus Maleficarum offered to those suffering from lovesickness was the idea of avoidance and busywork. For those beleaguered by unattainable or unrequited longing and desire, the authors suggested that such a person should distance themselves from the one they desired and then promptly delve into the most arduous and exhausting tasks available, so as to distract the mind through physical labor. By grinding away at such grueling chores, one could outwait the pangs of longing and survive lovesickness.

4. Group-oriented methods of curing someone’s lovesickness were also proposed by the authors of the Malleus Maleficarum.  One option was for the sufferer to be brought to a mentor or educator. Such a person, claimed the authors of the text, could chastise the victim of lovesickness about their misplaced emotions and use various philosophical arguments to guide them out of their dilemma. An argument favored by the authors of the Malleus Maleficarum for use against people suffering from unadvisable longing was apparently that “such love is the greatest misery” (Part II, question 2, chapter 3). Once the educator or mentor drilled that or a similar statement into the head of the suffering person, the victim of lovesickness, in theory, would be able to move on.

5. If the mentor or educator method seems ineffective, then perhaps the Malleus Maleficarum’s friendly conversation route will be more palatable. For this, the sufferer of lovesickness need only visit a good friend—preferably a friend who is a good liar. This designated friend was then supposed to take up the ignoble task of shattering the aura of love and affection that the sufferer had for the desired person. In short, the Malleus Maleficarum suggested that the friends of a lovesick person could slander and defame the person whom the sufferer fancied. If the person who needed slandering was a woman, the Malleus Maleficarum advised the dutiful friend to “vilify the body and disposition of his [buddy’s] love, and so blacken her character that she may appear to him altogether base and deformed” (Part II, question 2, chapter 3). If smearing the name of an innocent person is not your cup of tea, the Malleus Maleficarum also admitted that introducing the lovesick individual to other men or women was a viable option if such matchmaking would not lead to a sin.

Cures For Witchcraft-Caused Lovesickness

1. Unsurprisingly, as the Malleus Maleficarum was a witch-hunter’s manual, the text inevitably concluded that some cases of lovesickness and inordinate longing was not natural, but brought about by witchcraft. One remedy for such diabolical lovesickness was reportedly to utter certain sacred words, yet the authors of the text neglected to mention which words they had in mind. If simple holy words and phrases did not suffice, then this method could be escalated all the way to a full-blown exorcism, which, besides expelling demons, would apparently cure the witch-borne lovesickness.

2. If an exorcism seemed too much of a hassle for a cure to lovesickness, then this next option provided by the Malleus Maleficarum may be more appealing. According to the authors of the text, the sufferer need only call on their guardian angel in order to be saved from their pesky supernatural lovesickness. In all, this method seems much more appealing than that of the exorcism.

3. Lastly, if the guardian angel is on vacation or not responding, another option presented by the Malleus Maleficarum is for the sufferer of lovesickness to simply head to church and make use of the features that the house of worship has to offer. On these last few methods, the text proclaimed, “Let him daily invoke the Guardian Angel deputed to him by God, let him use confession and frequent the shrines of the Saints, especially of the Blessed Virgin, and without doubt he will be delivered” (Part II, question 2, chapter 3).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Tristan and Isolde drinking a love potion, painted by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828–1882), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Malleus Maleficarum by Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger, translated by Montague Summers (Dover Publications, 1971).

The Adventures Of The Sailor-Donkey Of Cyprus

The Malleus Maleficarum was a 15th-century text that presented bizarre (but, unfortunately, influential) theories about witchcraft and magic, as well as commentary on subjects such as supernatural monsters, demons and other similarly diabolical creatures. Its authors, the inquisitors Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger, did not simply write a dry treatise on the convoluted assumptions of witch hunters and demonologists; they also spiced up the text with supposed first-hand accounts of what they personally witnessed as inquisitors, and they also recorded tales of folklore presented to them by their co-workers. Many of these paranormal yarns are depressing reads, as they often end with the death of an accused (and most likely innocent) witch. Yet, some of the tales preserved by the inquisitors are so bizarre that they come across as quite humorous, which is a delightful change of pace from the otherwise dark and frustrating sections of the Malleus Maleficarum. One such comical digression appeared in part II, question 2, chapter 4 of the text—which featured a sailor who allegedly lived as a transformed donkey for over three years on the island of Cyprus.

To set the scene, a merchant ship was said to have pulled into port at the city of Salamis, in Cyprus, where it loitered for a time to sell its wares and restock its hull with new cargo. The protagonist of this strange tale was an unnamed member of the merchant ship crew. He was something of an antihero, for he seemed to be a loner who was at the bottom of the ship’s hierarchy of importance. While the rest of the crew set about loading and unloading goods, or accomplishing other such tasks, our protagonist was given the menial chore of buying a batch of eggs. In pursuit of this goal, the lone sailor went not to the city market, but to an isolated house which was situated near the beach. Outside of this dwelling, the sailor found a woman who was strolling around her property and enjoying the seaside breeze. The unnamed woman, according to the story, was not all that she appeared. She was allegedly a powerful witch and a member of a significant coven operating in Cyprus.

As the sailor said his greetings and asked to buy some eggs, the woman sized up the stranger with the eye of an intuitive predator. She could tell that he was a disrespected loner who was far away from home—the type of person who might be overlooked if he happened to suddenly disappear. While thinking these thoughts, the woman agreed to sell some eggs to the sailor, asking him to wait outside while she gathered them from her house. After some time, she reappeared from her abode with a basket of very special eggs, which the sailor purchased without any second thoughts. Leaving the mysterious woman behind, the sailor returned to the port, and finding that his crewmates had not returned to the ship, he decided to wander around the docks.

The rest of the crew was apparently having a grand time in the city, and did not intend to return to the ship any time soon. As such, the lone sailor on the docks had only the basket of eggs for company, which inevitably made him bored and hungry. Before long, he decided to snack on one of the eggs, and he found the morsel so delicious that he ultimately ate the whole basket of eggs as he waited for the return of his crewmates. Yet, as mentioned earlier, these were very special eggs, prepared with extra care by an alleged witch. The sailor soon began to feel odd, and started to show peculiar symptoms. As the Malleus Maleficarum exclaimed, “behold! an hour later he was made dumb as if he had no power of speech” (part II, question 2, chapter 4).

While the unfortunate sailor was being attacked by the effects of the bad eggs, the other members of the merchant ship began wandering back to the docks. None of them made notice of the dazed and muted sailor who could now only move by crawling about on all four limbs. Although the lone sailor was not noticed by his comrades, he saw that the crew was finally returning to the ship. Still feeling odd, the sailor crawled his way back, probably hoping they had some sort of medicine or antidote on board for whatever ailed him. As soon as the sailor attempted to board the ship, however, his former crewmates looked on him with shock and annoyance—those nearby even went so far as to pick up sticks and brooms to shoo the poor sailor away. They called his such names as ‘beast’ and ‘animal,’ and before long our protagonist began to piece together what had happened. In the zoological sense of the word, the sailor had become a total ass.

The crew of the merchant ship apparently cared little for their missing crewmate, and they set sail despite the sailor’s absence from the ship. Stranded, the donkey-sailor wandered about Cyprus, searching for food and shelter. It was a rough life, for, as the Malleus Maleficarum rightly said, “since everybody thought he was an ass, he was necessarily treated as such” (part II, question 2, chapter 4). The sailor-donkey eventually realized that only one person on Cyprus would be able to see through his transformed appearance. Therefore, he returned to the city of Salamis and retraced his steps to the seaside house of the alleged witch who had caused his transformation. She agreed to feed and house the sailor-donkey, but there was a catch—in exchange, she wanted him to be her beast of burden for the foreseeable future. The sailor-donkey, so the story goes, accepted the witch’s terms and would spend the next three years hauling supplies, such as lumber and grain, back to the woman’s seaside home.

Life with the witch was a bittersweet existence for the sailor-donkey. On the one hand, he had been unwillingly turned into a beast of burden and was now living a servile existence on the estate of the person who had caused his transformation. On the other hand, the witch and her coven were the only people on Cyprus who knew the sailor’s identity, and while they were away from prying eyes, the witches would give the sailor-donkey the ability to speak. They even reportedly had quite amicable conversations.  

Despite being fed, sheltered and allowed to speak from time to time, the sailor-donkey was not happy. As the tale was recorded in a religious-themed text, it may not be surprising to learn that one of the main complaints that the sailor had was that the witches refused to allow him to go to church. During his fourth year as the witch’s beast of burden, this church-deprivation became too much for the bewitched sailor. As the tale goes, our cursed protagonist was one day hoofing through the streets of Salamis with the witch when he heard the sound of bells ring out from the local church. Hearing those beckoning tones, the sailor clopped his way to the location of the church. Yet, as he still apparently looked like a donkey, he feared to enter, lest he should be shooed away by the congregation. Therefore, he stayed just outside the entrance and knelt in prayer as best he could in his awkward animal form. According to the Malleus Maleficarum, he “knelt down outside by bending the knees of his hind legs, and lifted his forelegs, that is, his hands, joined together over his ass’s head, as it was thought to be, and looked upon the elevation of the Sacrament” (part II, question 2, chapter 4).

Unfortunately, the sailor-donkey was not allowed to pray for long, as the witch had followed him to the church and promptly started beating him when she discovered what he was doing. Fortunately, the outlandish sight of a praying donkey with outstretched hooves had caught the attention of some people on the street, and they subsequently saw the woman appear and smack the donkey with a stick as punishment for the animal’s show of piety. The onlookers found this whole situation incredibly suspicious and they decided to make a citizens’ arrest. They then dragged the woman and the donkey before a local judge. As the story goes, the accused witch confessed after being tortured, and she was able to change the sailor back to normal after they were both escorted to her seaside home. Once the sailor was released in human form, the accused witch was thrown back in jail. According to the Malleus Maleficarum, “she paid the debt to which her crimes merited. And the young man returned joyfully to his own country” (part II, question 2, chapter 4).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (The Taming of the Donkey by Eduardo Zamacois y Zabala  (1841–1871), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Malleus Maleficarum by Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger, translated by Montague Summers (Dover Publications, 1971).

5 Odd Ways 15th-Century People Believed They Could Detect A Witch

The witch-fearing people of medieval Europe developed for themselves several methods that they thought would help them detect, and possibly track, witches living in their communities. As with folk remedies and superstitious actions meant to ward off bad luck, these practices could be quite odd and imaginative. The methods recorded here comes from the Malleus Maleficarum, written by the Inquisitors Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger and published around 1487. They drew much of their inspiration from what they encountered or heard in Germanic, Austrian, and Alpine regions. As such, these methods for detecting witches were likely used in those areas, although some of these practices were also found elsewhere. Many of these methods are related to livestock, which is understandable, as livestock troubles (especially the drying up of milk and animal deaths) were some of the most frequently reported claims of witchcraft. Without further ado, here are five ways that 15th-century people attempted to detect, and sometimes track, possible witches in their communities.

The Divination Method

Molybdomancy is a type of divination performed by pouring molten metal into water and examining the resulting metal formations. Diviners used this method in their attempts to predict the future, but it also eventually developed into a method for detecting witches. If citizens of a town suspected that a witch was in their midst, they might go to their local occult healer or diviner and ask for molybdomancy to be used in order to search for a malicious practitioner of witchcraft. According to the Malleus Maleficarum, a practitioner of Molybdomancy could both detect if witchcraft was used on a person and also harm the witch who cast the spell. Inquisitors Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger described a peasant healer in Swabia who used Molybdomancy to determine if his patient was bewitched: “he took molten lead (in the manner of another witch whom we have mentioned), and held it in an iron ladle over my foot and poured it into a bowl of water… ‘Now,’ he said, ‘I see that this infirmity is not natural, but certainly due to witchcraft’” (in Part II, question 2, introduction).

If the benevolent occult healer also dabbled in witchcraft, it was believed that he or she could use molybdomancy to track and harm the witch who cursed the person that the healer was healing. The Malleus Maleficarum described a good witch who reportedly offered this service to someone she was healing: “Then the witch pours molten lead into water until, by the work of the devil, some image is formed by the solidified lead. On this, the witch asks in which part of the body he wishes his enemy to be hurt, so that he may recognize him by that hurt” (Part II, question 2, introduction). Therefore, in theory, if the healer scratched or broke the lead figure’s arm, then the arm of the guilty witch would be magically injured, and the townspeople could hunt the witch by scouring the town for people with injured arms.

The Bucket Drumming Method

Like the previous method, this practice supposedly could detect witchcraft and cause harm to a malignant witch operating in a town. Yet, whereas the molybdomancy was used to detect and punish witches who used their spells to do bodily harm, the bucket drumming method was instead used against witches who harmed livestock. If a milkmaid discovered that a cow was producing less milk than usual, and suspected that this reduction was of supernatural origin, then she might have used the bucket drumming method to ferret out the troublesome witch. The first step was to gather as much of the afflicted cow’s milk as could be obtained and place it in a pail. Next, this bucket of milk was hung over a fire, and then the practitioner of the ritual would begin drumming on the side of the pail with a stick. To increase the chance of the method working, some magical phrases could apparently be learned from the local occult healer or benevolent witch that would improve the ritual’s effectiveness. This method, it was believed, linked the milk bucket to the malignant witch, and every blow made against the pail was magically transferred to the back of the witch. The villagers then could search for witches by looking for people with welts on their backs, and even if no witch was discovered, it was believed that the ritual would at least deter the witch from placing any more curses on cows.

The Rampaging Cow Method

If bucket drumming was not your style, and you wanted a more direct way to discover a witch, there was always the good ol’ rampaging cow method. This one is quite self-explanatory. According to an odd supernatural theory, if a bewitched cow was led out to pasture and given a good whack, the animal would run straight for the house of the witch. There was, however, a catch—this method apparently only worked if dirty laundry was placed on the cow’s head or back. On this type of witch-tracking, the authors of Malleus Maleficarum wrote: “they drive it [the cow] out into the fields with a man’s trousers, or some such unclean thing, upon its head or back. And this they do chiefly on Feast Days and Holy Days, and possibly with some sort of invocation of the devil; and they beat the cow with a stick and drive it away. Then the cow runs straight to the house of the witch, and beats vehemently upon the door with its horns, lowing loudly all the while” (Part II, question 2, introduction).

The Organ-Burning Method

If the bewitched animal had died from the spell, the organ-burning method was another option. This ritual, however, was not for the faint of heart. Once the ritual was begun, the witch would reportedly feel so much pain that she would hunt down the person performing the ritual and do all in her power to stop the rite from being completed. What was supposed to be burned in these rituals could vary from case to case, but in stories of this method, the witch almost always appears, and with her arrival, the tales transition into the genre of spooky horror stories.

In the account presented in the Malleus Maleficarum, a person whose animal was supposedly killed by witchcraft had the organ-burning method in mind when he ceremoniously took the deceased creature’s intestines to his home. For unclear reasons, he made sure to enter through the back door—by no means was he to enter through the front door—and ultimately brought the intestines to his kitchen. Before proceeding, he made sure that the doors and windows of the house were secure, then he built a fire from coal. Finally, when the fire was hot and he had prepared himself for the horrors to come, the man put the intestines of his bewitched animal on top of the fire. As with the milk-bucket method, this ritual supposedly transferred the damage sustained by the cursed intestines back to the witch who cast the spell. Therefore, according to the theory, as the cow’s intestines were burning, so too were the intestines of the witch. The Malleus Maleficarum described the eerie and scary scene:

“But when they perform this experiment they take great care that the door is securely locked; because the witch is compelled by her pains to try to enter the house, and if she can take a coal from the fire, all her pains will disappear. And we have often been told that, when she is unable to enter the house, she surrounds it inside and out with the densest fog, with such horrible shrieks and commotions that at last all those in the house think the roof is verily going to fall down and crush them unless they open the door” (Part II, question 2, introduction).

According to folklore, if this method was used and completed, the witch would often be found dead somewhere near the location where the ritual was carried out, including right outside the door. Spooky.

The Shoe-Grease Method

To end this article on a more jovial note, we will conclude with a strange witch-hunting technique that we have hereby named the shoe-grease method. This is one of the more unique methods as it neither punishes the witch or points the user toward the witch’s direction. Instead, the shoe-grease method is more of a trap that could supposedly be laid out in secret to catch a witch by surprise.

The shoe-grease method seems to have been a community effort, as multiple people were involved. For this to work, the youths of the town would have to be willing to go along with the plan, and all the conspirators had to keep the plot confidential until Sunday. The Malleus Maleficarum described the bizarre ritual trap as follows:

“On a Sunday, they smear the shoes of young men with grease, lard or pig’s fat, as is their wont when they wish to repair and renew the freshness of the leather, and thus the juveniles enter the church, whence it is impossible for any witches who are present to make their way out or depart until those who are anxious to espy them either go away themselves or give them express leave to make their way to their homes” (Part II, question 2, introduction).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (The Bewitched Man by  Francisco Goya  (1746–1828), [Publioc Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Malleus Maleficarum by Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger, translated by Montague Summers. New York: Dover Publications, 1971.
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Malleus-maleficarum  

The Many Different Categories of Divination, Witchcraft or Magic

The idea of magic, or at least the belief that the future can be predicted through ritualistic, magical or religious means, has seemingly been in the minds of humans since the dawn of recorded history. When hunting witches was a craze in European society, two Papal Inquisitors named Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger described the abilities of the strongest witches in Part II, Question 1, Chapter 2 of their witch-hunter’s manual, The Malleus Maleficarum, which was published around 1487 CE. They wrote that the most talented witches had the ability to control weather. These top-tier supernatural magicians could supposedly summon strong storms of wind, lightning and hail, which they could aim directly at their enemies. They could also curse or hex both man and beast in various ways (such as infertility or death), and they also were said to have psychological powers that could instill madness in victims. They could also allegedly influence the speech of others, specifically by magically forcing any of their captured accomplices to keep silent when tortured by inquisitors.

Offensive magic and witchcraft, which seems to be the type of magic that authors and filmmakers like to portray most of all in their works, drew an unfair lot when compared to the carefully-crafted complex and grandiose names used to label the other categories of supernatural abilities—especially the field of divination, or the prediction of the future using supernatural or pseudoscientific means. Although the magical field of prediction gets a lot less coverage in the books and theater box-offices of the modern world, these prophetic practices were deemed very serious and important in the ancient, medieval and early colonial world. The great Roman orator and statesman, Cicero, wrote one of the most extensive ancient books on the subject, On Divination (De Divinatione). Furthermore, as a consequence of the human addiction to labeling and categorizing absolutely every little thing known to mankind, there is no shortage of overly-specific names for virtually each and every form of these supernatural crafts. Many of these fields fall under the broad category of sortilege, or predicting the future using tools of chance, such as cards. Yet, the broader terms for divination were broken down even further, spawning a whole host of new words, many of which end in “mancy.” For example, divination through the use of cards is called cartomancy. Most of these types of divination are discussed in Part I, Question 17 of The Malleus Maleficarum. Here are just a few of the endless subdivisions of divination that were popular in cultures based out of Europe or the Middle East:

John Skylitzes’ Scandalous Libel Against The 9th-Century Patriarch Of Constantinople, John VII “The Grammarian”

Those who win victory can, and sometimes do, distort the memory of the factions that they triumphed over. This reality can be found in the Synopsis of Byzantine History by John Skylitzes, a historian who thrived during the reign of Emperor Alexios Komnenos (r. 1081-1118). In his synopsis of the history covering the reigns of emperors throughout the 9th, 10th and 11th centuries, Skylitzes gave little-to-no sympathy to the proponents of Iconoclasm—a Christian movement that condemned the use of ‘icons,’ such as images and sculptures, claiming that the veneration of these items constituted idolatry. Empress Irene almost eradicated the movement in 787, but Iconoclasm recovered and was only defeated decades later, on the instigation of Empress Theodora in 843. John Skylitzes, despite writing centuries after the fall of Iconoclasm, apparently still held a grudge against the last Iconoclast Patriarch (religious leader) of Constantinople—John VII “the Grammarian.” In his history, Skylitzes accused John the Grammarian of almost every horror imaginable.

The Last Witch Trial Of Nördlingen, Germany

Maria Holl Survived 62 Sessions Of Torture During the Late 16^th-Century Witch Trials

In the last decade of the 16^th century, a respectable woman who owned a restaurant along with her husband in Nördlingen, Germany, was put under arrest by the authority of the town council on suspicion of witchcraft. At first, Holl was patient with the council and their questioners; she was confident that she would be released without much of a hassel. Unfortunately for Maria Holl, the council, inquisitors and the citizens of Nördlingen all believed that she was truly a witch.

(“Examination of a witch”, c. 1853, from the Collection of the Peabody Essex Museum, originally by Author Thompkins H. Matteson, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

Magdalena Bollmann: Tortured to Death in a Trial of Witchcraft

10 Weeks of Torture and Fatal Abuse

(The Magic Circle, c. 1886, painted by John William Waterhouse [Public domain], via Creative Commons)

In the region of southern Germany now known as Baden-Württemberg, there lived a woman named Magdalena Bollmann. She lived in the 18^th century, a time when the public hysteria of witch-hunts was becoming less and less commonplace. Nevertheless, the inquisition and witchcraft trials continued to survive like cockroaches, infesting neglected villages and cities.

Fire, Fairies and Folklore—The Murder of Bridget Cleary

A witch? A fairy? Who was the murdered wife of Michael Cleary?

(Bridget and Michael Cleary c. 1887, via National Archives of Ireland)

Mr. and Mrs. Cleary

The strange and bizarre events leading up to the death of Bridget Cleary, as well as the court trial a few months later, are well known in the British Isles, especially Ireland, where the grisly event took place in 1895. Outside Britain and Ireland, however, the story is less well known. This article is dedicated to all of the history enthusiasts who were never introduced to this truly macabre tale. Without further ado—here is the story of Bridget Cleary, a woman murdered by her husband for being a fairy changeling at the end of the 19^th century.