Curiosities of Olden Times

In Short

This book is a curated museum of the peculiar. It explores a wide range of historical phenomena—from the bizarre legal trials of animals to the complex, often superstitious origins of mourning customs, secret cyphers, and alchemical lore. By gathering these disparate, antique accounts, the work highlights the ingenuity, cruelty, and deep-seated fears of past societies. Its enduring value lies in its role as a bridge to a world where the rational and the irrational existed side by side, providing a candid look at how humanity has historically interpreted its own existence.

The Story

The narrative arc of the book is not a singular tale, but a progression through the human experience of the "odd." It begins with the domestic and the ritualistic, examining why we wear black to mourn and how we have used secret codes to hide our intentions. From these private matters, the focus shifts to the finality of the grave, analyzing the strange, often vengeful nature of ancient wills that reach out from the past to command the living.

As the book advances, it moves into the public and legal sphere, where society’s moral rigidity manifests in the most improbable ways. We see the grim spectacle of "queer culprits"—pigs, bulls, and horses brought to formal, human-style trials and executed for causing injury. The tone here is one of detached observation, documenting how ecclesiastical and secular courts exerted control over the uncontrollable. The narrative then transitions to the intensely personal and often tragic lives of historical figures. We encounter the mysterious Thorgunna, whose arrival at an Icelandic farm is marked by rain of blood and an unsettling death, and the ascetic desert hermits Symeon and John, whose frantic, often incoherent pursuit of holiness leads them into bizarre social entanglements and public scandal.

The scope then widens to encompass the long-standing human obsession with cheating death and destiny. We explore the absurd "science" of the Hermippus Redivivus, which posits that youth can be regained by inhaling the breath of maidens, and the medieval practice of Sortes Sacræ, where individuals opened holy books at random to force the divine to provide guidance in moments of crisis. The book concludes with the enduring, semi-mythic search for the Philosopher’s Stone. Through a Yorkshire folktale involving a golden ball and a giant, the narrative suggests that our deepest myths are often allegories for the impossible desires that have driven human ambition through the ages. The book does not seek to "solve" these curiosities; rather, it presents them as a finished gallery of human behavior, where the final act is always the humbling realization that our ancestors were just as capable of profound superstition as they were of rigid legalism.

How It Unfolds

The domestic foundations The book opens by dissecting the ritual of mourning, tracing our modern black cloth back to ancient, forgotten origins. It moves quickly into the practical necessity of secrecy, providing a series of historical cyphers used by everyone from Julius Caesar to mid-19th-century lovers.

The weight of the dead The focus shifts to the sanctity and malice found in historical wills. These documents are treated as voices from the grave, revealing a spectrum of human character from the deeply pious to the spiteful and mocking.

The trials of nature The narrative turns to the courtroom, documenting the chilling absurdity of indicting animals for murder. This section illustrates how medieval justice systems attempted to impose human order upon a world they did not fully understand.

The search for the eternal The middle chapters explore the desperate human impulse to extend life and secure divine favor. By documenting the distillation of breath and the reliance on random omens, the text illustrates the fragility of the human ego when faced with mortality.

The mythic conclusion The book ends by tying these historical fragments to the realm of folklore. By recounting the tale of the golden ball, the argument is made that our history is inseparable from our legends, both being reflections of a singular, recurring human folly.

The People

The figures populating these pages are rarely heroes; they are, instead, subjects of their own peculiar obsessions. Thorgunna, the enigmatic Icelandic woman, stands as a figure of uncanny power whose very presence defies natural order, ultimately forcing the farmer Thorodd into a state of helpless submission. In the religious realm, Symeon and John represent the fragility of the ascetic ideal; they begin as inseparable companions seeking holiness, but their human attachments—to a mother and a wife—eventually pull them into a life of wandering and disreputable behavior.

The figure of Nicolas provides a sharper, more cynical study in human nature. His journey from self-proclaimed saint to a man caught in a sordid scandal of seduction exposes the hypocrisy that often cloaked itself in the garb of piety. Meanwhile, the historical King John appears as a dark emblem of unchecked authority, inventing cruel, leaden punishments for those who earn his displeasure. Finally, the legendary King Solomon serves as a mirror for all who suffer from pride; his descent from a powerful monarch to a scullion, brought about by a stolen ring and a demon, acts as a cautionary tale about the instability of status. These individuals are defined by their intense, often conflicting desires, leaving them fundamentally altered by their brushes with the extreme.

In Its Own Voice

"It is the voice of a man now dead, coming back in the hush of a darkened house--from the vault, low and hoarse as an echo."

This description captures the haunting, absolute authority a will holds over the living.

"The brute is seized and incarcerated; a lawyer is appointed to plead for the delinquent; another is counsel for the prosecution."

This explains the bizarre, formal process of putting an animal on trial for a crime.

"If the vapour of bread could sustain the fleeting spirit of Democritus,--then the still more invigorating outbreathings of little maidens will prolong life indefinitely."

This summarizes the leap in logic made by alchemists in their quest to cheat old age.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book explores the chasm between human intention and reality. It suggests that across centuries, humanity has consistently attempted to use ritual, law, and superstition as tools to govern a world that remains fundamentally untamable. Whether it is the attempt to codify the grief of mourning, the absurdity of sentencing a pig to death, or the desperate inhalation of "vitality" to stave off age, the book demonstrates a recurring pattern: humans create complex systems to hide their own impotence. It asks why we are so compelled to believe that we can command nature, the law, and even the afterlife, even when our own history proves those commands are often nothing more than hollow echoes.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the offbeat, the macabre, and the scholarly will find much to admire here. This is not a fast-paced narrative but a collection of observations that rewards a patient, curious mind. It feels like browsing the shelves of a Victorian library; the prose is formal, evocative, and occasionally carries the weight of a bygone intellectual tradition.

However, prospective readers should be aware that the book is very much a product of the late 19th century. Its descriptions of non-European cultures, particularly those involving indigenous tribes or different religious traditions, carry the paternalistic and sometimes disparaging tone common to the period. The inclusion of dialect—such as the Yorkshire lasses' story—can also prove difficult to navigate for those unfamiliar with regional English inflections. Furthermore, the work does not shy away from the cruelty of past justice systems, depicting scenes of torture and execution with a starkness that may be unsettling. Despite these barriers, the book remains a valuable artifact. It stays with you not because of its accuracy by modern standards, but because of its ability to make the past feel present, weird, and deeply, undeniably human. It is for those who want to see how we once looked at the world, not through the lens of modern progress, but through the eyes of those who truly believed the strange.