はじめによんでください

人類学的ゾンビあるいはゾンビ存在としての人類学

Anthropological Zombie or Anthropology as Zombie existence


Felicia Felix-Mentor as a Haitian Zombie from Zora Neale Hurston's "Tell My Horse: Voodoo and Life in Haiti and Jamaica," 1938

池田光穂

☆ 人類学の対象としてハイチのゾンビについて考える。その題材は、ゾラ・ニール・ハーストンの "Tell My Horse: Voodoo and Life in Haiti and Jamaica," 1938(邦訳『ヴードゥーの神々』常田景子、筑摩書房、2021年)である。

CHAPTER 13

ZOMBIES

What is the whole truth and nothing else but the truth about Zombies? I do not know, but I know that I saw the broken remnant, relic, or refuse of Felicia Felix-Mentor in a hospital yard. Here in the shadow of the Empire State Building, death and the graveyard are final. It is such a positive end that we use it as a measure of nothingness and eternity. We have the quick and the dead. But in Haiti there is the quick, the dead, and then there are Zombies.

This is the way Zombies are spoken of: They are the bodies without souls. The living dead. Once they were dead, and after that they were called back to life again.

No one can stay in Haiti long without hearing Zombies mentioned in one way or another, and the fear of this thing and all that it means seeps over the country like a ground current of cold air. This fear is real and deep. It is more like a group of fears. For there is the outspoken fear among the peasants of the work of Zombies. Sit in the market place and pass a day with the market woman and notice how often some vendeuse cries out that a Zombie with its invisible hand has filched her money, or her goods. Or the accusation is made that a Zombie has been set upon her or some one of her family to work a piece of evil. Big Zombies who come in the night to do malice are talked about. Also the little girl Zombies who are sent out by their owners in the dark dawn to sell little packets of roasted coffee. Before sun up their cries of “Cafe grille” can be heard from dark places in the streets and one can only see them if one calls out for the seller to come with her goods. Then the little dead one makes herself visible and mounts the steps.

第13章

ゾンビ

ゾンビについて、何が真実で、何が真実以外の何ものでもないのだろうか?私にはわからないが、フェリシア・フェリックス=メントールの壊れた残骸、遺品、 あるいはゴミを病院の庭で見たことは確かだ。ここエンパイア・ステート・ビルの影では、死と墓場は最終的なものだ。それは、私たちがそれを無と永遠の尺度 として使うほど積極的な終わりである。私たちには生者と死者がいる。しかし、ハイチには生者と死者、そしてゾンビがいる。

ゾンビはこのように語られる: ゾンビは魂のない肉体である。生きている死者だ。ゾンビは魂のない死体であり、生ける屍である。

ハイチに長く滞在していると、何らかの形でゾンビについて語られるのを耳にすることがある。そして、ゾンビとそれが意味するものすべてに対する恐怖が、冷 たい空気の地上の流れのように、この国に染み込んでいく。この恐怖はリアルで深い。というより、恐怖の集合体のようなものだ。というのも、農民の間には、 ゾンビの仕業に対する率直な恐怖があるからだ。市場に座り、市場の女と一日を過ごすと、何人かの行商人が、見えない手でゾンビにお金や商品を盗まれたと叫 ぶことに気づく。あるいは、ゾンビが彼女や彼女の家族に悪事を働くように仕向けたと非難する。悪事を働くために夜にやってくる大きなゾンビの話もある。ま た、暗い夜明けに持ち主に送り出され、焙煎したコーヒーの小袋を売りに行く小さな女の子ゾンビもいる。日が昇る前に、通りの暗い場所から「カフェ・グリ ル」という彼らの叫び声が聞こえる。そして、小さな死霊は姿を現し、階段を上る。
The upper class Haitians fear too, but they do not talk about it so openly as do the poor. But to them also it is a horrible possibility. Think of the fiendishness of the thing. It is not good for a person who has lived all his life surrounded by a degree of fastidious culture, loved to his last breath by family and friends, to contemplate the probability of his resurrected body being dragged from the vault—the best that love and means could provide, and set to toiling ceaselessly in the banana fields, working like a beast, unclothed like a beast, and like a brute crouching in some foul den in the few hours allowed for rest and food. From an educated, intelligent being to an unthinking, unknowing beast. Then there is the helplessness of the situation. Family and friends cannot rescue the victim because they do not know. They think the loved one is sleeping peacefully in his grave. They may motor past the plantation where the Zombie who was once dear to them is held captive often and again and its soulless eyes may have fallen upon them without thought or recognition. It is not to be wondered at that now and then when the rumor spreads that a Zombie has been found and recognized, that angry crowds gather and threaten violence to the persons alleged to be responsible for the crime.

Yet in spite of this obvious fear and the preparations that I found being made to safeguard the bodies of the dead against this possibility, I was told by numerous upper class Haitians that the whole thing was a myth. They pointed out that the common people were superstitious, and that the talk of Zombies had no more basis in fact than the European belief in the Werewolf.

But I had the good fortune to learn of several celebrated cases in the past and then in addition, I had the rare opportunity to see and touch an authentic case. I listened to the broken noises in its throat, and then, I did what no one else had ever done, I photographed it. If I had not experienced all of this in the strong sunlight of a hospital yard, I might have come away from Haiti interested but doubtful. But I saw this case of Felicia Felix-Mentor, which was vouched for by the highest authority. So I know that there are Zombies in Haiti. People have been called back from the dead.
ハ イチの上流階級の人々も恐れているが、貧しい人々ほど表立っては口にしない。しかし、彼らにとってもそれは恐ろしい可能性なのだ。その恐ろしさを考えてみ てほしい。潔癖な教養に囲まれ、家族や友人たちに最期まで愛されながら生きてきた人間が、復活した自分の肉体が、愛と手段が提供できる最高の金庫から引き ずり出され、バナナ畑で絶え間なく働かされ、獣のように働き、獣のように服を着ず、獣のように休息と食事のために許されたわずかな時間に、どこかの汚い巣 穴でしゃがみこんでいる可能性を考えるのは、いいことではない。教育を受けた知的な存在から、何も考えず、何も知らない獣のような存在になる。そして、こ の状況の無力さがある。家族も友人も被害者を救うことができない。彼らは愛する人が墓の中で安らかに眠っていると思っている。かつて親しかったゾンビが捕 らわれている農園を、彼らは何度も何度もモーターで通り過ぎるかもしれない。ゾンビが発見されたという噂が広まると、怒り狂った群衆が集まり、その犯罪を 犯したとされる人物に暴力を振るうと脅迫する。

しかし、このような明らかな恐怖や、このような可能性から死者を守るための準備がなされているにもかかわらず、私は多くの上流階級のハイチ人から、このよ うなことはすべて作り話だと言われた。彼らは、庶民は迷信深く、ゾンビの話はヨーロッパの狼男信仰と同じで何の根拠もないと指摘した。

しかし私は幸運にも、過去に何件かの有名な事例を知ることができ、さらに本物の事例を見たり触ったりする貴重な機会を得た。私はその喉の壊れた音に耳を傾 け、そして誰もしたことのないことをした。もし、病院の庭の強い日差しの中でこれらすべてを体験していなかったら、私はハイチから興味を持ったかもしれな いが、疑っていたかもしれない。しかし、私はこのフェリシア・フェリックス=メントールのケースを見た。ハイチにはゾンビがいる。人々は死から呼び戻され た。
Now, why have these dead folk not been allowed to remain in their graves? There are several answers to this question, according to the case.

A was awakened because somebody required his body as a beast of burden. In his natural state he could never have been hired to work with his hands, so he was made into a Zombie because they wanted his services as a laborer. B was summoned to labor also but he is reduced to the level of a beast as an act of revenge. C was the culmination of “ba’ Moun” ceremony and pledge. That is, he was given as a sacrifice to pay off a debt to a spirit for benefits received. I asked how the victims were chosen and many told me that any corpse not too old to work would do. The Bocor watched the cemetery and went back and took suitable bodies. Others said no, that the Bocor and his associates knew exactly who was going to be resurrected even before they died. They knew this because they themselves brought about the “death.”

Maybe a plantation owner has come to the Bocor to “buy” some laborers, or perhaps an enemy wants the utmost in revenge. He makes an agreement with the Bocor to do the work. After the proper ceremony, the Bocor in his most powerful and dreaded aspect mounts a horse with his face toward the horse’s tail and rides after dark to the house of the victim. There he places his lips to the crack of the door and sucks out the soul of the victim and rides off in all speed. Soon the victim falls ill, usually beginning with a headache, and in a few hours is dead. The Bocor, not being a member of the family, is naturally not invited to the funeral. But he is there in the cemetery. He has spied on everything from a distance. He is in the cemetery but does not approach the party. He never even faces it directly, but takes in everything out of the corner of his eye. At midnight he will return for his victim.

Everybody agrees that the Bocor is there at the tomb at midnight with the soul of the dead one. But some contend that he has it in a bottle all labelled. Others say no, that he has it in his bare hand. That is the only disagreement. The tomb is opened by the associates and the Bocor enters the tomb, calls the name of the victim. He must answer because the Bocor has the soul there in his hand. The dead man answers by lifting his head and the moment he does this, the Bocor passes the soul under his nose for a brief second and chains his wrists. Then he beats the victim on the head to awaken him further. Then he leads him forth and the tomb is closed again as if it never had been disturbed.
では、なぜこれらの死者が墓にとどまることを許されなかったのか?この疑問に対する答えは、ケースによっていくつかある。

Aが目覚めたのは、誰かが彼の体を重荷を負わせる獣として必要としたからだ。自然な状態では、彼は手を使って働くために雇われることはできなかったので、 労働者としての彼の役務が求められたためにゾンビにされた。Bも労働力として召喚されたが、復讐のために獣のレベルにまで堕とされる。Cは「バ'モウン」 の儀式と誓約の集大成だった。つまり、受けた恩恵に対する精霊への借りを返すための生贄として捧げられたのだ。犠牲者はどのように選ばれるのかと尋ねる と、多くの人が「働けないほど年をとっていない死体なら何でもいい」と言った。ボコールは墓地を見張り、戻っては適当な遺体を持ち帰った。また、ボコール とその仲間たちは、死ぬ前から誰が復活するかを知っていた、と言う人もいた。彼ら自身が 「死 」をもたらしたのだから。

農園主が労働者を「買う」ためにボコールのところに来たのかもしれないし、敵が最大限の復讐を望んでいるのかもしれない。彼はボコールと仕事をする契約を 結ぶ。しかるべき儀式の後、ボコールは最も強力で恐ろしい姿で馬に乗り、顔を馬の尾の方に向け、日が暮れてから被害者の家に乗り込む。そこで彼はドアの隙 間に唇を当て、被害者の魂を吸い出すと、全速力で走り去る。間もなく被害者は病気になり、たいていは頭痛で始まり、数時間で死んでしまう。ボコールは家族 の一員ではないので、当然ながら葬式には呼ばれない。しかし、彼は墓地にいる。彼は遠くからすべてを監視していた。彼は墓地にいるが、パーティには近づか ない。直接顔を合わせることもなく、目の端ですべてを観察している。真夜中、彼は犠牲者のために戻ってくる。

真夜中、ボコールは死んだ者の魂とともに墓にいる、というのは誰もが認めるところだ。しかしある者は、ボコールはラベルを貼った瓶の中に魂を持っていると 主張する。また、そうではなく、素手で持っていると言う者もいる。それが唯一の意見の相違点である。ボコールは墓に入り、犠牲者の名前を呼ぶ。ボコールは 魂を手に持っているのだから、彼は答えなければならない。死者は頭を上げて答えるが、その瞬間、ボコールは一瞬だけ魂を鼻の下に通し、手首を鎖で縛る。そ して、被害者の頭を叩いてさらに目を覚まさせる。そして、彼を外に連れ出すと、墓は再び閉ざされ、何事もなかったかのようになる。
The victim is surrounded by the associates and the march to the hounfort (Voodoo temple and its surroundings) begins. He is hustled along in the middle of the crowd. Thus he is screened from prying eyes to a great degree and also in his half-waking state he is unable to orientate himself. But the victim is not carried directly to the hounfort. First he is carried past the house where he lived. This is always done. Must be. If the victim were not taken past his former house, later on he would recognize it and return. But once he is taken past, it is gone from his consciousness forever. It is as if it never existed for him. He is then taken to the hounfort and given a drop of a liquid, the formula for which is most secret. After that the victim is a Zombie. He will work ferociously and tirelessly without consciousness of his surroundings and conditions and without memory of his former state. He can never speak again, unless he is given salt. “We have examples of a man who gave salt to a demon by mistake and he come man again and can write the name of the man who gave him to the loa,” Jean Nichols told me and added that of course the family of the victim went straight to a Bocor and “gave” the man who had “given” their son.

Now this “Ba Moun” (give man) ceremony is a thing much talked about in Haiti. It is the old European belief in selling one’s self to the devil but with Haitian variations. In Europe the man gives himself at the end of a certain period. Over in Haiti he gives others and only gives himself when no more acceptable victims can be found. But he cannot give strangers. It must be a real sacrifice. He must give members of his own family or most intimate friends. Each year the sacrifice must be renewed and there is no avoiding the payments. There are tales of men giving every member of the family, even his wife after nieces, nephews, sons and daughters were gone. Then at last he must go himself. There are lurid tales of the last days of men who have gained wealth and power thru “give man.”

The wife of one man found him sitting apart from the family weeping. When she demanded to know the trouble, he told her that he had been called to go, but she was not to worry because he had put everything in order. He was crying because he had loved her very much and it was hard to leave her. She pointed out that he was not sick and of course it was ridiculous for him to talk of death. Then with his head in her lap he told her about the “services” he had made to obtain the advantages he had had in order to surround her with increasing comforts. Finally she was the only person left that he could offer but he would gladly die himself rather than offer her as a sacrifice. He told her of watching the day of the vow come and go while his heart grew heavier with every passing hour. The second night of the contract lapsed and he heard the beasts stirring in their little box. The third night which was the one just past, a huge and a terrible beast had emerged in the room. If he could go to the Bocor that same day with a victim, he still could go another year at least. But he had no one to offer except his wife and he had no desire to live without her. He took an affectionate farewell of her, shut himself in his own room and continued to weep. Two days later he was dead.
被 害者は仲間に取り囲まれ、ホウンフォート(ヴードゥー教寺院とその周辺)への行進が始まる。被害者は群衆の真ん中に連れて行かれる。こうして彼は詮索好き な目からかなりの程度遮られ、また半覚醒状態で自分の方向が定まらない。しかし、被害者は直接家まで運ばれるわけではない。まず、被害者が住んでいた家の 前を通って運ばれる。これは必ず行われる。必ずだ。もし被害者が元の家の前を通って運ばれなかったら、後になってその家に気づいて戻るだろう。しかし一度 通り過ぎると、そこは彼の意識から永遠に消えてしまう。まるで存在しなかったかのように。その後、彼は病院に連れて行かれ、ある液体を一滴飲まされる。そ の後、被害者はゾンビとなる。周囲の環境や状況を意識することなく、以前の状態の記憶もなく、猛烈に疲れ知らずで働く。塩を与えない限り、二度と話すこと はできない。「間違って悪魔に塩を与えた男が、再び人間に戻り、ロアに塩を与えた男の名前を書けるようになった例がある」とジャン・ニコルズは私に話し、 もちろん被害者の家族はボコールに直行し、息子を「与えた」男を「与えた」と付け加えた。

さて、この「バ・モウン」(男を与える)の儀式は、ハイチではよく話題になる。悪魔に自分の身を売るというヨーロッパでは古くからある信仰だが、ハイチで はさまざまなバリエーションがある。ヨーロッパでは、男は一定の期間が終わると自分を捧げる。ハイチでは他人に捧げ、それ以上受け入れられる犠牲者が見つ からなくなったときだけ自分を捧げる。しかし、他人を捧げることはできない。本当の犠牲でなければならない。自分の家族や親しい友人を犠牲にしなければな らない。毎年、犠牲は更新されなければならず、その支払いを避けることはできない。姪や甥、息子や娘がいなくなった後、家族全員を、妻までもを捧げたとい う話もある。そして最後には、彼自身が行かなければならない。「ギブ・マン "を通して富と権力を手に入れた男たちの最期の薄気味悪い話がある。

ある男の妻が、彼が家族から離れて座って泣いているのを見つけた。妻が何があったのかと尋ねると、彼は「召されて行くことになった。彼は彼女をとても愛し ていたので、離れるのが辛くて泣いていたのだ。彼女は、彼が病気ではないことを指摘し、もちろん彼が死の話をするのは馬鹿げていると言った。そして、彼女 の膝に頭を乗せながら、彼女をますます快適な生活で包むために、自分が手に入れた利点を得るためにした「奉仕」について話した。最終的に、彼女だけが彼に 残された唯一の人であったが、彼女を生け贄として捧げるくらいなら、喜んで自分が死のうと思った。時間を追うごとに心が重くなるのを感じながら、彼は誓い の日が過ぎ去っていくのを見送った。契約から2日目の夜が過ぎ、彼は獣たちが小さな箱の中で蠢く音を聞いた。そして3日目の夜、巨大で恐ろしい獣が部屋に 現れた。もしその日のうちに犠牲者を連れてボコールに行くことができれば、少なくともあと1年は生きられるだろう。しかし、彼には妻以外には誰もいない し、妻なしで生きる気もなかった。彼は妻に別れを告げ、自分の部屋に閉じこもり、泣き続けた。2日後、彼は死んだ。
Another man received the summons late one night. Bosu Tricorne, the terrible three-horned god, had appeared in his room and made him know that he must go. Bosu Tricorne bore a summons from Baron Cimiterre, the lord of the cemetery. He sprang from his bed in terror and woke up his family by his fear noises. He had to be restrained from hurling himself out of the window. And all the time he was shouting of the things he had done to gain success. Naming the people he had given. The family in great embarrassment dragged him away from the window and tried to confine him in a room where his shouts could not be heard by the neighbors. That failing, they sent him off to a private room in a hospital where he spent two days confessing before he died. There are many, many tales like that in the mouths of the people.

There is the story of one man of great courage who, coming to the end of his sacrifices, feeling that he had received what he bargained for, went two days ahead and gave himself up to the spirit to die. But the spirit so admired his courage that he gave him back all of the years he had bargained to take.

Why do men allegedly make such bargains with the spirits who have such terrible power to reward and punish?

When a man is ambitious and sees no way to get there, he becomes desperate. When he has nothing and wants prosperity he goes to a houngan and says, “I have nothing and I am disposed to do anything to have money.”

The houngan replies, “He who does not search, does not find.”

“I have come to you because I wish to search,” the man replies.

“Well, then,” the houngan says, “we are going to make a ceremony, and the loa are going to talk with you.”

The houngan and the man go into the hounfort. He goes to a small altar and makes the symbol with ashes and gunpowder (indicating that it is a Petro invocation), pours the libation and begins to sing with the Ascon and then asks the seeker, “What loa you want me to call for you?”

The man makes his choice. Then the houngan begins in earnest to summon the loa wanted. No one knows what he says because he is talking “langage” that is, language, a way of denoting the African patter used by all houngans for special occasions. The syllables are his very own, that is, something that cannot be taught. It must come to the priest from the loa. He calls many gods. Then the big jars under the table that contain spirits of houngans long dead begin to groan. These spirits in jars have been at the bottom of the water for a long time. The loa was not taken from their heads at death and so they did not go away from the earth but went to the bottom of the water to stay until they got tired and demanded to be taken out. All houngans have one more of these spirit jars in the hounfort. Some have many. The groaning of the jars gets louder as the houngan keeps calling. Finally one jar speaks distinctly, “Pourquoi ou derange’ moi?” (Why do you disturb me?) The houngan signals the man to answer the loa. So he states his case.
あ る夜遅く、別の男が召集令状を受け取った。恐ろしい三本角の神、ボス・トリコーネが彼の部屋に現れ、行かなければならないことを告げたのだ。ボス・トリ コーネは、墓地の主であるシミテール男爵からの召喚状を携えていた。彼は恐怖のあまりベッドから飛び起き、恐怖の声で家族を起こした。窓から飛び降りるの を止めなければならなかった。その間も彼は、自分が成功を得るためにしてきたことを叫び続けた。自分が与えた人々の名前を挙げていた。大恥をかいた家族 は、彼を窓から引き離し、彼の叫び声が隣人に聞こえないような部屋に閉じ込めようとした。しかし、それは失敗に終わり、彼は病院の個室に送られ、そこで死 ぬまでの2日間を告白に費やした。人々の口には、そのような話がたくさんある。

ある偉大な勇気のある男の話もある。彼は、犠牲の果てに、自分が値切ったものを受け取ったと感じ、2日前に行って、霊に身を委ねて死んだ。しかし、霊は彼の勇気に感服し、約束した年数をすべて返したという。

なぜ人は、報いも罰も与える恐ろしい力を持つ霊とそのような交渉をするのだろうか?

人は野心に燃えているが、そこに至る道が見えないとき、自暴自棄になる。何も持っておらず、繁栄が欲しいとき、彼は法眼のところへ行き、こう言う。

ホンガンはこう答えた。「探さない者は見つからない。

「私は探したいからあなたのところに来たのです」と男は答えた。

「では、儀式を行い、ロアがあなたと話すことにしましょう」。

ホウンガンと男は小屋に入った。彼は小さな祭壇に向かい、灰と火薬でシンボルを作り(それがペトロの呼びかけであることを示す)、酒を注ぎ、アスコンと歌い始める。

と尋ねる。そして、ホウンガンは本格的にそのロアを召喚し始める。なぜなら、彼は「ランガージュ」、つまり特別な時にすべてのフンガンが使うアフリカのパ タ-を表す言葉を話しているからだ。その音節は彼独自のものであり、教えることのできないものである。ロアから神父に伝授されるのだ。彼は多くの神々を呼 ぶ。そして、テーブルの下に置かれた大きな壺がうめき始める。甕の中の霊魂たちは長い間、水の底にいた。死んでも頭からロアを取り出さなかったので、地上 から去ることなく水の底に行き、疲れて取り出すことを要求するまで留まっていたのだ。すべてのフーガンは、この精霊瓶をもう一つ持っている。たくさんある ところもある。ハウンガンが呼び続けると、甕のうめき声が大きくなる。ついに1つの壷が「Pourquoi ou derange' moi(なぜ私を邪魔するのか)」とはっきりと話す。そこで彼は自分の主張を述べる。
“Papa, loa, ou mem, qui connais toute baggage ou mem qui chef te de l’eau, moi duange’ on pour mande’ ou servir moi.” (Papa, loa, yourself, who knows all things, you yourself who is master of waters, I disturb you to ask you to serve me.)

The Voice: Ma connasis ca on besoin. Mais, on dispose pour servir moi aussi? (I know what you want, but are you disposed to serve me also?)

The Man: Yes, command me what you want.

Voice: I am going to give you all that you want, but you must make all things that I want. Write your name in your own blood and put the paper in the jar.

The houngan, still chanting, pricks the man’s finger so sharply that he cries out. The blood flows and the supplicant dips a pen in it and writes his name and puts the paper in the jar. The houngan opens a bottle of rum and pours some in the jar. There is the gurgling sound of drinking.

The Voice: And now I am good (I do good) for you. Now I tell you what you must do. You must give me someone that you love. Today you are going into your house and stay until tomorrow. On the eighth day you are returning here with something of the man that you are going to give me. Come also with some money in gold. The voice ceases. The houngan finishes presently, after repeating everything that the Voice from the jar has said, and dismisses the man. He goes away and returns on the day appointed and the houngan calls up the loa again.

The Voice: Are you prepared for me?

The Man: Yes.

The Voice: Have you done all that I told you?

The Man: Yes.

The Voice (to houngan): Go out. (to man) Give me the gold money.

(The man gives it.)

The Voice: Now, you belong to me and I can do with you as I wish. If I want you in the cemetery I can put you there.

The Man: Yes, I know you have all power with me. I put myself in your care because I want prosperity.

The Voice: That I will give you. Look under the table. You will find a little box. In this box there are little beasts. Take this little box and put it in your pocket. Every eighth day you must put in it five hosts (Communion wafers). Never forget to give the hosts. Now, go to your house and put the little box in a big box. Treat it as if it were your son. It is now your son. Every midnight open the box and let the beasts out. At four o’clock he will return and cry to come in and you will open for him and close the box again. And every time you give the beasts the communion, immediately after, you will receive large sums of money. Each year on this date you will come to me with another man that you wish to give me. Also you must bring the box with the beasts. If you do not come, the third night after the date, the beasts in the box will become great huge animals and execute my will upon you for your failure to keep your vow. If you are very sick on that day that the offering falls due say to your best friend that he must bring the offering box for you. Also you must send the name of the person you intend to give me as pay for working for you and he must sign a new contract with me for you.
「Papa, loa, ou mem, qui connais toute baggage ou mem qui chef te de l'eau, moi duange' on pour mande' ou servir moi." (パパ、ロア、あなた自身、すべての荷物を知っている、水の主であるあなた自身、私はあなたに私に仕えるように頼むために邪魔をする。) (パパ、ロア、すべてを知るあなた自身、水の主であるあなた自身、私はあなたに私に仕えてもらうために邪魔をする)

声: マ・コナシス・カ・オン・ベソワン。しかし、あなたは私に仕える気もあるのか?

男:そうだ、君の望むものを私に命じてくれ。

声:私はあなたの望むものをすべて与えるつもりだが、あなたは私の望むものをすべて作らなければならない。自分の名前を自分の血で書き、その紙を壺に入れるのだ。

フンガンはまだ唱えながら、男の指を鋭く刺し、泣き叫ぶ。血が流れ、その中にペンを浸して自分の名前を書き、その紙を壺に入れる。フンガンはラム酒の瓶を開け、瓶に注ぐ。ゴクゴクと飲む音がする。

声だ: そして今、私はあなたにとって良い存在である。さあ、何をすべきか教えてあげよう。あなたは愛する人を私に与えなければならない。今日、あなたは自分の家 に入り、明日まで滞在する。八日目に、あなたは私にくれる人の何かを持ってここに戻るのだ。金貨も持って来なさい」。声がやむ。フンガンは、壷の中から聞 こえてきた声をすべて繰り返した後、その男を追い払った。彼は立ち去り、約束の日に戻ってくると、ハウンガンは再びロアを呼び出す。

声だ: 準備はできたか?

男:はい。

声:言ったことは全部やったか?

男:はい。

男:はい: 出て行け。(男に向かって)金を出せ。

(男は金を渡す)

声: おまえは俺のものだ。墓地に入れたければ、そこに入れるよ。

男:ああ、君が僕に対してすべての権限を持っていることは知っている。私は繁栄が欲しいから、あなたの世話になるんだ。

声:それは私が与えよう。テーブルの下を見てごらん。小さな箱がある。この箱の中に小さな獣がいる。この小さな箱を持ってポケットに入れなさい。8日ごと に、その中に5枚の聖体を入れなければならない。聖体を捧げることを決して忘れてはならない。さあ、自分の家に行き、その小さな箱を大きな箱に入れなさ い。自分の息子のように扱いなさい。それが今、あなたの息子なのだ。真夜中ごとに箱を開け、獣を外に出す。4時になると息子が戻って来て、中に入りたいと 泣くので、あなたは息子のために箱を開け、また箱を閉める。そして、獣に聖餐を与えるたびに、その直後、あなたは大金を受け取るだろう。毎年この日に、あ なたは私に与えたい別の男を連れて私のところに来るのだ。また、獣の入った箱も持参すること。もしあなたが来なければ、その日から3日目の夜、箱の中の獣 は巨大な獣となり、あなたが誓いを守らなかったことに対して、私の意志をあなたに実行する。もし供え物が届くその日にあなたが重病なら、あなたの親友に、 あなたのために供え物箱を持ってくるようにと言いなさい。また、あなたのために働いた報酬として私に渡すつもりである人物の名前を送り、その人物はあなた のために私と新たな契約を結ばなければならない。
All is finished between the Voice and the man. The houngan reenters and sends the man away with assurance that he will commence the work at once. Alone he makes ceremony to call the soul of the person who is to be sacrificed. No one would be permitted to see that. When the work in the hounfort is finished, then speeds the rider on the horse. The rider who faces backwards on the horse, who will soon place his lips to the crack of the victim’s door and draw his soul away. Then will follow the funeral and after that the midnight awakening. And the march to the hounfort for the drop of liquid that will make him a Zombie, one of the living dead.

Some maintain that a real and true priest of Voodoo, the houngan, has nothing to do with such practices. That it is the bocor and priests of the devil—worshipping cults—who do these things. But it is not always easy to tell just who is a houngan and who is a bocor. Often the two offices occupy the same man at different times. There is no doubt that some houngans hold secret ceremonies which their usual following know nothing of. It would be necessary to investigate every houngan and bocor in Haiti rigidly over a period of years to determine who was purely houngan and who was purely bocor. There is certainly some overlapping in certain cases. A well known houngan of Leogane, who has become a very wealthy man by his profession is spoken of as a bocor more often than as a houngan. There are others in the same category that I could name. Soon after I arrived in Haiti a young woman who was on friendly terms with me said, “You know, you should not go around alone picking acquaintances with these houngans. You are liable to get involved in something that is not good. You must have someone to guide you.” I laughed it off at the time, but months later I began to see what she was hinting at.

What is involved in the “give man” and making of Zombies is a question that cannot be answered anywhere with legal proof. Many names are called. Most frequently mentioned in this respect is the Man of Trou Forban. That legendary character who lives in the hole in the mountain near St. Marc. He who has enchanted caves full of coffee and sugar plantations. The entrance to this cave or this series of caves is said to be closed by a huge rock that is lifted by a glance from the master. The Marines are said to have blown up this great rock with dynamite at one time, but the next morning it was there whole and in place again. When the master of Trou Forban walks, the whole earth trembles. There are tales of the master and his wife, who is reputed to be a greater bocor than he. She does not live with him at Trou Forban. She is said to have a great hounfort of her own on the mountain called Tapion near Petit Gouave. She is such a great houngan that she is honored by Agoue’ te Royo, Maitre l’eau, and walks the waters with the same ease that others walk the earth. But she rides in boats whenever it suits her fancy. One time she took a sailboat to go up the coast near St. Marc to visit her husband, Vixama. She appeared to be an ordinary peasant woman and the captain paid her no especial attention until they arrived on the coast below Trou Forban. Then she revealed herself and expressed her great satisfaction with the voyage. She felt that the captain had been extremely kind and courteous, so she went to call her husband to come down to the sea to meet him. Realizing now who she was, the captain was afraid and made ready to sail away before she could return from the long trip up the mountain. But she had mounted to the trou very quickly and returned with Vixama to find the captain and his crew poling the boat away from the shore in the wildest terror. The wind was against them and they could not sail away. Mme. Vixama smiled at their fright and hurled two grains of corn which she held in her hand on to the deck of the boat and they immediately turned into golden coin. The captain was more afraid and hastily brushed them into the sea. They sailed south all during the night, much relieved that they had broken all connections with Vixama and his wife. But at first light the next morning he found four gold coins of the same denomination as the two that he had refused the day before. Then he knew that the woman of Vixama had passed the night on board and had given them a good voyage as well—the four gold coins were worth twenty dollars each.
声 と男の間ですべてが終わった。ホウガンが再び入り、すぐに作業を開始することを保証して男を送り出す。彼は一人で、生贄となる人の魂を呼び出す儀式を行 う。それを見ることは誰にも許されない。砦での作業が終わると、馬に乗った騎手がスピードを上げる。馬上で後方を向いた騎手は、すぐに犠牲者の扉の隙間に 唇を当て、魂を引き離す。その後、葬儀が行われ、真夜中の目覚めが待っている。そして生ける屍の一人であるゾンビになるための一滴の液体を求めて、葬儀場 へと行進する。

ヴードゥー教の真の司祭であるフンガンは、このような習慣とは無関係だと主張する人もいる。悪魔を崇拝するカルトのボコールや司祭がこのようなことを行っ ているのだ。しかし、誰がホウンガンで誰がボコールなのかを見分けるのは必ずしも容易ではない。この2つの役職が同じ人物に就いていることもしばしばあ る。一部のフーガンが、普段は何も知らない秘密の儀式を行っていることは間違いない。誰が純粋にハウガンであり、誰が純粋にボコールであるかを決定するた めには、何年にもわたってハイチのすべてのハウガンとボコールを厳密に調査する必要がある。確かに重複しているケースもある。レオガンのある有名なフンガ ンは、その職業によって大金持ちになったが、フンガンとしてよりもボコールとして語られることが多い。同じような人は他にもいる。私がハイチに到着して間 もなく、親しくしていた若い女性が言った。良くないことに巻き込まれる可能性がある。指導してくれる人が必要だ "と言われた。そのときは笑って受け流したが、数ヵ月後、彼女が何をほのめかしているのかがわかるようになった。

ゾンビの「ギブマン」と製造に何が関わっているのかは、法的な証拠をもってしてもどこにも答えられない問題である。多くの名前が挙げられている。この点で 最も頻繁に言及されるのは、「トルー・フォーバンの男」である。サンマルク近くの山の穴に住んでいる伝説的な人物だ。コーヒーと砂糖のプランテーションで いっぱいの洞窟に魔法をかけている。この洞窟、あるいは一連の洞窟の入り口は、主人の視線によって持ち上げられる巨大な岩によって閉じられていると言われ ている。海兵隊はこの大岩をダイナマイトで爆破したというが、翌朝には丸ごと元の位置に戻っていた。トロウ・フォルバンのマスターが歩くと、地球全体が震 える。主人と、主人よりも偉大なボコールと評判の妻の話がある。彼女はトルー・フォルバンで主人とは暮らしていない。彼女は、プティ・グアブの近くのタピ オンと呼ばれる山に、自分の大きな屋敷を持っていると言われている。彼女は、アグエ・テ・ロワイヨから 「Maitre l'eau 」の称号を授かるほどの偉大なホウガンであり、他の者が大地を歩くのと同じように容易に水面を歩く。しかし、彼女は気が向けばいつでもボートに乗る。ある 時、彼女は夫のヴィクサマを訪ねるために、サンマルク近くの海岸に行くためにヨットに乗った。彼女は普通の農民の女性に見えたので、船長はトルー・フォル バンの下の海岸に着くまで特別な注意を払わなかった。その後、彼女は正体を現し、航海に大満足していることを告げた。彼女は、船長が非常に親切で礼儀正し かったと感じ、夫に会いに海まで降りてくるよう呼びに行った。船長は彼女が何者であるかを知り、恐れおののき、彼女が長い山登りから戻る前に出航しようと した。しかし、彼女はすぐにトロウに乗り込み、ヴィクサマと一緒に戻ってくると、船長と乗組員たちが荒々しい恐怖の中で岸から船を漕ぎ出していた。風は逆 風で、船を走らせることはできなかった。ヴィクサマ夫人は彼らの恐怖に微笑み、手に持っていた2粒のトウモロコシを船の甲板に投げつけると、それはたちま ち金貨に変わった。船長はさらに恐れ、急いでそれを海に流した。ヴィクサマ夫妻との縁が切れたことに安堵しながら、船は一晩中南へ航行した。しかし、翌朝 の明け方、船長は前日に断った2枚の金貨と同じ額面の金貨を4枚見つけた。4枚の金貨はそれぞれ20ドルの価値があった。
There are endless tales of the feats of the occupant of this hole high up on this inaccessible mountain. But in fact it has yet to be proved that anyone has ever laid eyes on him. He is like the goddess in the volcano of Hawaii, and Vulcan in Mt. Vesuvius. It is true that men, taking advantage of the legend and the credulous nature of the people, have set up business in the mountain to their profit. The name of this Man of Trou Forban is known by few and rarely spoken by those who know it. This whispered name is Vixama, which in itself means invisible spirit. He who sits with a hive of honey-bees in his long flowing beard. It is he who is reputed to be the greatest buyer of souls. His contact man is reputed to be Mardi Progres. But we hear too much about the practice around Archahaie and other places to credit Trou Forban as the headquarters. Some much more accessible places than the mountain top is the answer. And some much more substantial being than the invisible Vixama.

If embalming were customary, it would remove the possibility of Zombies from the minds of the people. But since it is not done, many families take precautions against the body being disturbed.

Some set up a watch in the cemetery for thirty-six hours after the burial. There could be no revival after that. Some families have the bodies cut open, insuring real death. Many peasants put a knife in the right hand of the corpse and flex the arm in such a way that it will deal a blow with the knife to whoever disturbs it for the first day or so. But the most popular defense is to poison the body. Many of the doctors have especially long hypodermic needles for injecting a dose of poison into the heart, and sometimes into other parts of the body as well.

A case reported from Port du Paix proves the necessity of this. In Haiti if a person dies whose parents are still alive, the mother does not follow the body to the grave unless it is an only child. Neither does she wear mourning in the regular sense. She wears that coarse material known as “gris-blanc.” The next day after the burial, however, she goes to the grave to say her private farewell.
こ の近づきがたい山の高いところにある穴の住人の偉業については、果てしない物語がある。しかし実際には、誰も彼を目にしたことがないと証明されている。彼 はハワイの火山の女神やヴェスヴィオ山のバルカンのようなものだ。この伝説と人々の信心深さにつけこんで、この山で商売を始め、利益を得ている人々がいる のは事実である。このトルー・フォルバンの男の名は、知る者は少なく、知る者が口にすることはめったにない。囁かれているその名はヴィクサマといい、それ 自体は目に見えない精霊を意味する。長く流れる髭の中にミツバチの巣を抱え、座っている。魂の最大の買い手と評判の男だ。彼のコンタクトマンはマルディ・ プログレスと言われている。しかし、トルー・フォルバンを本部として信用するには、アーチャハイや他の場所での実践について聞きすぎる。山の頂上よりも もっとアクセスしやすい場所が答えなのだ。そして、目に見えないヴィクサマよりもずっと実質的な存在もいる。

もしエンバーミングの習慣があれば、人々の心からゾンビの可能性を取り除くことができるだろう。しかし、エンバーミングが行われていないため、多くの家族は遺体が邪魔にならないように用心している。

埋葬後36時間、墓地に見張りを立てるところもある。それ以後は蘇生はありえない。遺体を切り開いて、本当の死を保証する家もある。多くの農民は、死体の 右手にナイフを刺し、最初の1日くらいは、死体を乱す者にナイフで一撃を与えるように腕を曲げる。しかし、最もポピュラーな防御法は、死体を毒殺すること である。医師の多くは、心臓や、時には体の他の部分に毒を注射するための、特に長い皮下注射針を持っている。

ポート・デュ・ペで報告された事例が、その必要性を証明している。ハイチでは、両親がまだ生きている人が亡くなった場合、一人っ子でない限り、母親は遺体 を墓まで追いかけない。通常の喪服も着ない。母親は 「グリ・ブラン 」と呼ばれる粗い服を着る。しかし、埋葬の翌日、母親は墓に行き、自分だけの別れを告げる。
In the following case everything had seemed irregular. The girl’s sudden illness and quick death. Then, too, her body stayed warm. So the family was persuaded that her death was unnatural and that some further use was to be made of her body after burial. They were urged to have it secretly poisoned before it was interred. This was done and the funeral went off in routine manner.

The next day, like Mary going to the tomb of Jesus, the mother made her way to the cemetery to breathe those last syllables that mothers do over their dead, and like Mary she found the stones rolled away. The tomb was open and the body lifted out of the coffin. It had not been moved because it was so obviously poisoned. But the ghouls had not troubled themselves to rearrange things as they were.

Testimony regarding Zombies with names and dates come from all parts of Haiti. I shall cite a few without using actual names to avoid embarrassing the families of the victims.

In the year 1898 at Cap Haitian a woman had one son who was well educated but rather petted and spoiled. There was some trouble about a girl. He refused to accept responsibility and when his mother was approached by a member of the girl’s family she refused to give any sort of satisfaction. Two weeks later the boy died rather suddenly and was buried. Several Sundays later the mother went to church and after she went wandering around the town—just walking aimlessly in her grief, she found herself walking along Bord Mer. She saw some laborers loading ox carts with bags of coffee and was astonished to see her son among these silent workers who were being driven to work with ever increasing speed by the foreman. She saw her son see her without any sign of recognition. She rushed up to him screaming out his name. He regarded her without recognition and without sound. By this time the foreman tore her loose from the boy and drove her away. She went to get help, but it was a long time and when she returned she could not find him. The foreman denied that there had ever been anyone of that description around. She never saw him again, though she haunted the water front and coffee warehouses until she died.
次 のケースでは、すべてが不規則に思えた。少女の突然の病死である。しかも遺体は温かいままだった。そこで遺族は、彼女の死は不自然であり、埋葬後に遺体を さらに利用する必要があると説得した。遺体を埋葬する前に、密かに毒殺するよう勧めた。これが実行され、葬儀は日常的に行われた。

翌日、イエスの墓に向かうマリアのように、母親も墓地に向かい、母親が死者にする最後の挨拶をした。墓は開かれ、遺体は棺から持ち上げられていた。明らか に毒殺されていたため、死体は動かされていなかった。しかし、グールたちは、そのままの状態で並べ替えようとはしなかった。

ゾンビに関する名前と日付入りの証言はハイチ各地から寄せられている。犠牲者の家族を困らせないために、実名は伏せていくつか引用する。

1898年、ある女性がキャップ・ハイティアンで一人の息子を産んだ。その息子はよく教育されていたが、むしろ愛玩され、甘やかされていた。ある女の子の ことでトラブルがあった。息子は責任を取ろうとせず、母親が少女の家族から話を持ちかけられたとき、母親は満足のいく説明をすることを拒んだ。2週間後、 その少年は急死し、埋葬された。数日後の日曜日、母親は教会に行き、悲しみに暮れながら町をぶらぶらと歩いた。労働者たちが牛車にコーヒーの入った袋を積 んでいるのを見た彼女は、現場監督によってどんどんスピードを上げて仕事に駆り出される無言の労働者たちのなかに息子がいるのを見て驚いた。彼女は、息子 が自分を見ているのを見た。彼女は息子の名前を叫びながら駆け寄った。しかし、息子は何の認識もなく、声も出さずに彼女を見た。その頃、現場監督は彼女を 少年から引き離し、追い払った。彼女は助けを呼びに行ったが、長い時間がかかり、戻ってきても彼を見つけることはできなかった。現場監督は、そのような人 物はいなかったと否定した。彼女は死ぬまでウォーターフロントやコーヒー倉庫に出没したが、それ以来彼に会うことはなかった。
A white Protestant missionary minister told me that he had a young man convert to his flock who was a highly intelligent fellow and a clever musician. He went to a dance and fell dead on the floor. The missionary conducted the funeral and saw the young man placed in the tomb and the tomb closed. A few weeks later another white minister of another Protestant denomination came to him and said, “I had occasion to visit the jail and who do you suppose I saw there? It was C. R.”

“But it is not possible. C. R. is dead. I saw him buried with my own eyes.”

“Well, you just go down to the prison and see for yourself. He is there, for nobody knows I saw him. After I had talked with a prisoner I went there to see, I passed along the line of cells and saw him crouching like some wild beast in one of the cells. I hurried here to tell you about it.”

The former pastor of C. R. hurried to the prison and made some excuse to visit in the cell block. And there was his late convert, just as he had been told. This happened in Port-au-Prince. Then there was the case of P., also a young man. He died and was buried. The day of the funeral passed and the mother being so stricken some friends remained overnight in the house with her and her daughter. It seems that the sister of the dead boy was more wakeful than the rest. Late in the night she heard subdued chanting, the sound of blows in the street approaching the house and looked out of the window. At the moment she did so, she heard the voice of her brother crying out: “Mama! Mama! Sauvez moi!” (Save me!) She screamed and aroused the house and others of the inside looked out and saw the procession and heard the cry. But such is the terror inspired by these ghouls, that no one, not even the mother or sister, dared go out to attempt a rescue. The procession moved on out of sight. And in the morning the young girl was found to be insane.

But the most famous Zombie case of all Haiti is the case of Marie M. It was back in October 1909 that this beautiful young daughter of a prominent family died and was buried. Everything appeared normal and people generally forgot about the beautiful girl who had died in the very bloom of her youth. Five years passed.

Then one day a group of girls from the same school which Marie had attended went for a walk with one of the Sisters who conducted the school. As they passed a house one of the girls screamed and said that she had seen Marie M. The Sister tried to convince her she was mistaken. But others had seen her too. The news swept over Port-au-Prince like wild fire. The house was surrounded, but the owner refused to let anyone enter without the proper legal steps. The father of the supposedly dead girl was urged to take out a warrant and have the house searched. This he refused to do at once. Finally he was forced to do so by the pressure of public opinion. By that time the owner had left secretly. There was no one nor nothing in the house. The sullen action of the father caused many to accuse him of complicity in the case. Some accused her uncle and others her god father. And some accused all three. The public clamored for her grave to be opened for inspection. Finally this was done. A skeleton was in the coffin but it was too long for the box. Also the clothes that the girl had been buried in were not upon the corpse. They were neatly folded beside the skeleton that had strangely outgrown its coffin.
あ るプロテスタントの白人宣教師が、自分の群れに改宗してきた青年がいた、と言っていた。彼はダンスに行き、床に倒れて死んだ。宣教師は葬儀を執り行い、そ の若者が墓に納められ、墓が閉じられるのを見た。数週間後、別のプロテスタント宗派の白人牧師が彼のもとを訪れ、「刑務所を訪れる機会があったのだが、そ こで誰を見たと思う?C・Rだった。

「しかし、そんなことはあり得ない。C.R.は死んだ。私はこの目で彼が埋葬されているのを見たんだ」。

「刑務所に行き、自分の目で確かめればいい。私が見たことは誰も知らない。ある囚人と話をした後、監房の列を通りかかると、彼が野獣のように監房の一角にしゃがみ込んでいた。そのことを話すために急いでここに来たんだ」。

C.R.の元牧師は急いで刑務所に行き、何か口実を作って独房棟を訪ねた。するとそこには、言われたとおりの亡くなった改宗者がいた。これはポルトープラ ンスで起こったことだ。Pのケースもあった。彼は亡くなり、埋葬された。葬儀の日は過ぎ、母親はとても苦しんでいたので、何人かの友人が母親と娘の家に一 晩泊まった。死んだ男の子の妹は、他の人たちよりも目が覚めていたようだった。夜遅く、彼女は控えめなお経を聞き、通りから家に近づく打撃音を聞き、窓か ら外を見た。その瞬間、彼女は弟の泣き叫ぶ声を聞いた: 「ママ!ママ!ママ!彼女は悲鳴を上げ、家の中を奮い立たせ、中にいた人たちが外を見ると、行列が見え、叫び声が聞こえた。しかし、グールたちの恐怖に怯 え、母親も妹も、誰も外に出て救助を試みる勇気がなかった。行列はそのまま見えなくなった。そして朝になると、少女は正気を失っていることがわかった。

1909年10月、名家の若く美しい娘が亡くなり、埋葬された。すべてが正常に見え、人々は青春の真っ盛りに死んだ美しい娘のことを忘れていた。それから5年が過ぎた。

ある日、マリーが通っていた学校の女子生徒たちが、その学校を運営するシスターの一人と散歩に出かけた。ある家を通りかかったとき、一人の少女が悲鳴を上 げて、マリー・Mを見たと言った。しかし、他の人たちもマリーを目撃していた。そのニュースはポルトープランスを火のように駆け巡った。家は包囲された が、所有者は適切な法的手続きなしに誰も立ち入らせることを拒否した。死んだと思われる少女の父親は、令状を取って家を捜索するよう促された。彼はすぐに それを拒否した。しかし、世論の圧力に押され、やむなく家宅捜索をすることになった。その頃、所有者は密かに家を出ていた。家には誰もおらず、何もなかっ た。父親の不機嫌な態度は、多くの人に事件への加担を非難させた。ある者は叔父を、またある者は神父を非難した。そしてある者は3人全員を非難した。世間 は、彼女の墓を開けて検査するよう求めた。ついにそれが実現した。棺には骸骨が入っていたが、箱には長すぎた。また、少女が埋葬されていた衣服は死体の上 にはなかった。棺からはみ出した骸骨の横に、きちんとたたまれていた。
It is said that the reason she was in the house where she was seen was that the houngan who had held her had died. His wife wanted to be rid of the Zombies that he had collected. She went to a priest about it and he told her these people must be liberated. Restitution must be made as far as possible. So the widow of the houngan had turned over Marie M. among others to this officer of the church and it was while they were wondering what steps to take in the matter that she was seen by her school mates. Later dressed in the habit of a nun she was smuggled off to France where she was seen later in a convent by her brother. It was the most notorious case in all Haiti and people still talk about it whenever Zombies are mentioned.

In the course of a conversation on November 8, 1936, Dr. Rulx Léon, Director-General of the Service d’ Hygiene, told me that a Zombie had been found on the road and was now at the hospital at Gonaives. I had his permission to make an investigation of the matter. He gave me letters to the officers of the hospital. On the following Sunday I went up to Gonaives and spent the day. The chief of staff of the hospital was very kind and helped me in every way that he could. We found the Zombie in the hospital yard. They had just set her dinner before her but she was not eating. She hovered against the fence in a sort of defensive position. The moment that she sensed our approach, she broke off a limb of a shrub and began to use it to dust and clean the ground and the fence and the table which bore her food. She huddled the cloth about her head more closely and showed every sign of fear and expectation of abuse and violence. The two doctors with me made kindly noises and tried to reassure her. She seemed to hear nothing. Just kept on trying to hide herself. The doctor uncovered her head for a moment but she promptly clapped her arms and hands over it to shut out the things she dreaded.

I said to the doctor that I had permission of Dr. Léon to take some pictures and he helped me to go about it. I took her first in the position that she assumed herself whenever left alone. That is, cringing against the wall with the cloth hiding her face and head. Then in other positions. Finally the doctor forcibly uncovered her and held her so that I could take her face. And the sight was dreadful. That blank face with the dead eyes. The eyelids were white all around the eyes as if they had been burned with acid. It was pronounced enough to come out in the picture. There was nothing that you could say to her or get from her except by looking at her, and the sight of this wreckage was too much to endure for long. We went to a more cheerful part of the hospital and sat down to talk. We discussed at great length the theories of how Zombies come to be. It was concluded that it is not a case of awakening the dead, but a matter of the semblance of death induced by some drug known to a few. Some secret probably brought from Africa and handed down from generation to generation. These men know the effect of the drug and the antidote. It is evident that it destroys that part of the brain which governs speech and will power. The victims can move and act but cannot formulate thought. The two doctors expressed their desire to gain this secret, but they realize the impossibility of doing so. These secret societies are secret. They will die before they will tell. They cited instances. I said I was willing to try. Dr. Legros said that perhaps I would find myself involved in something so terrible, something from which I could not extricate myself alive, and that I would curse the day that I had entered upon my search. Then we came back to the case in hand, and Dr. Legros and Dr. Belfong told me her story.
彼 女が目撃された家にいたのは、彼女を抱いていたホーンガンが死んだからだと言われている。彼の妻は、彼が集めたゾンビたちを追い出したかった。そのことを 司祭に相談したところ、司祭はこの人たちを解放しなければならないと言った。可能な限り返還しなければならない。そこでフンガンの未亡人はマリー・Mを教 会の役員に引き渡したのだが、どのような措置を取るべきか悩んでいた時、彼女は学校の仲間に目撃された。その後、修道女の服に身を包んだ彼女はフランスに 密航し、後に修道院で弟に目撃された。ハイチ全土で最も悪名高い事件であり、今でもゾンビの話が出るたびに人々はこの話をする。

1936年11月8日の会話の中で、衛生局の局長であるルックス・レオン医師から、ゾンビが道路で発見され、現在ゴナイヴの病院にいると聞いた。私は彼の 許可を得て、この問題を調査することにした。彼は病院の職員に手紙をくれた。次の日曜日、私はゴナイブに行き、一日過ごした。病院のチーフはとても親切 で、できる限りのことをしてくれた。病院の庭でゾンビを見つけた。夕食を用意したところだったが、彼女は食べていなかった。彼女はフェンスにへばりつき、 防御態勢をとっていた。私たちの接近を察知した瞬間、彼女は低木の枝を折って、地面やフェンスやテーブルの埃を払ってきれいにし始めた。彼女は布を頭から かぶり、恐怖と虐待や暴力を予期するあらゆる兆候を見せた。私と一緒にいた2人の医師は、優しい声を出して彼女を安心させようとした。彼女は何も聞いてい ないようだった。ただひたすら身を隠そうとしていた。医師は一瞬彼女の頭を覆い隠したが、彼女はすぐに腕と手を頭の上に置いて、彼女が恐れているものを シャットアウトしようとした。

私は医師に、レオン医師の許可を得て写真を撮らせてもらうと言った。私はまず、彼女が一人になったときにいつもとる姿勢で彼女を撮った。つまり、布で顔と 頭を隠し、壁に向かってうずくまる。それから他の体勢になった。そして最後に、医師が無理矢理彼女を覆い隠し、私が彼女の顔を撮ることができるようにし た。その光景は恐ろしかった。死んだような目をした無表情な顔だ。まぶたは酸で焼かれたように目の周りが真っ白だった。それは写真に写るほど顕著だった。 彼女を見る以外、彼女に話しかけたり、彼女から聞き出したりできることは何もなく、この残骸の光景は長く耐えるにはあまりに酷だった。私たちは病院のもっ と明るい場所に行き、座って話をした。私たちは、ゾンビがどのようにして発生するのかについて大いに話し合った。その結果、死者を目覚めさせるのではな く、ごく一部の人間にしか知られていない薬物によって、死の様相を呈するという結論に達した。おそらくアフリカから持ち込まれ、代々受け継がれてきた秘伝 であろう。彼らはその薬物の効果と解毒剤を知っている。この薬物は、言語と意志の力を司る脳の一部を破壊することは明らかだ。被害者は動き、行動すること はできるが、思考を形成することはできない。二人の医師はこの秘密を手に入れたいと願ったが、それが不可能であることを悟った。この秘密結社は秘密なの だ。話す前に死んでしまう。彼らは例を挙げた。私は試してみたいと言った。レグロス博士は、もしかしたら私が恐ろしいことに巻き込まれるかもしれない、生 きているうちに逃れられないようなことに。レグロス博士とベルフォン博士が彼女の話をした。
Her name is Felicia Felix-Mentor. She was a native of Ennery and she and her husband kept a little grocery. She had one child, a boy. In 1907 she took suddenly ill and died and was buried. There were the records to show. The years passed. The husband married again and advanced himself in life. The little boy became a man. People had forgotten all about the wife and mother who had died so long ago.

Then one day in October 1936 someone saw a naked woman on the road and reported it to the Garde d’Haiti. Then this same woman turned up on a farm and said, “This is the farm of my father. I used to live here.” The tenants tried to drive her away. Finally the boss was sent for and he came and recognized her as his sister who had died and been buried twenty-nine years before. She was in such wretched condition that the authorities were called in and she was sent to the hospital. Her husband was sent for to confirm the identification, but he refused. He was embarrassed by the matter as he was now a minor official and wanted nothing to do with the affair at all. But President Vincent and Dr. Leon were in the neighborhood at the time and he was forced to come. He did so and reluctantly made the identification of this woman as his former wife.

How did this woman, supposedly dead for twenty-nine years, come to be wandering naked on a road? Nobody will tell who knows. The secret is with some bocor dead or alive. Sometimes a missionary converts one of these bocors and he gives up all his paraphernalia to the church and frees his captives if he has any. They are not freed publicly, you understand, as that would bring down the vengeance of the community upon his head. These creatures, unable to tell anything—for almost always they have lost the power of speech forever—are found wandering about. Sometimes the bocor dies and his widow refuses their responsibility for various reasons. Then again they are set free. Neither of these happenings is common.

But Zombies are wanted for more uses besides field work. They are reputedly used as sneak thieves. The market women cry out continually that little Zombies are stealing their change and goods. Their invisible hands are believed to provide well for their owners. But I have heard of still another service performed by Zombies. It is in the story that follows:

A certain matron of Port-au-Prince had five daughters and her niece also living with her. Suddenly she began to marry them off one after the other in rapid succession. They were attractive girls but there were numerous girls who were more attractive whose parents could not find desirable husbands for. People began to marvel at the miracle. When madame was asked directly how she did it, she always answered by saying, “Filles ce’marchandies peressables” (Girls are perishable goods, it is necessary to get them off hand quickly). That told nobody anything, but they kept on wondering just the same.

彼女の名前はフェリシア・フェリッ クス=メンターという。エネリー出身で、夫とともに小さな食料品店を営んでいた。彼女には男の子が一人いた。1907年に急病で亡くなり、埋葬された。記 録が残っている。年月は流れた。夫は再婚し、出世した。少年は成人した。人々は遠い昔に亡くなった妻と母のことをすっかり忘れていた。

そして1936年10月のある日、誰かが道路で裸の女性を見かけ、ガルド・デハイチに通報した。すると同じ女性がある農場に現れ、「ここは私の父の農場で す。私はここに住んでいました "と言った。借家人たちは彼女を追い払おうとした。ようやくボスが呼ばれ、彼女が29年前に亡くなって埋葬された自分の妹であることがわかった。彼女はあ まりに悲惨な状態だったので、当局に通報され、病院に送られた。彼女の夫が身元確認のために呼ばれたが、彼は拒否した。彼は今となっては小役人であり、こ の件にはまったく関わりたくないので、恥ずかしかったのだろう。しかし、ヴィンセント大統領とレオン医師がその時近くにいたため、彼は来ざるを得なかっ た。そしてしぶしぶ、この女性が自分の前妻であることを明かした。

29年前に死んだはずのこの女性が、なぜ裸で道路をさまよっていたのか。誰も知らない。その秘密は、死んだか生きているかのボコーにある。宣教師がボコー ルの一人を改宗させることがあるが、彼は自分の道具一式をすべて教会に譲り渡し、捕虜がいれば解放する。彼らは公には解放されない、それは彼の頭に共同体 の復讐を下すことになるからだ。これらの生き物は何も話すことができず、ほとんどの場合、永遠に話す力を失っているため、さまよっているところを発見され る。ボコールが死に、その未亡人がさまざまな理由で彼らの責任を拒否することもある。そしてまた、彼らは自由にされる。どちらも一般的ではない。

しかし、ゾンビは畑仕事以外の用途でも必要とされている。コソ泥として使われると評判なのだ。市場の女性たちは、小さなゾンビが小銭や商品を盗んでいると 叫び続ける。彼らの見えない手は、持ち主のためによく働いてくれると信じられている。しかし、私はゾンビが行うもう一つの奉仕について聞いたことがある。 それは次のような話である:

ポルトープランスのある寮母には5人の娘と姪がいた。突然、彼女は娘たちを次々と結婚させ始めた。彼女たちは魅力的な娘たちだったが、もっと魅力的で、親 が望ましい夫を見つけられない娘たちも数多くいた。人々はこの奇跡に驚嘆し始めた。マダムはどうやったのかと直接尋ねられると、いつも「Filles ce'marchandies peressables」(女の子は腐りやすい品物だから、手早く手に入れる必要があるのです)と答えた。しかし、誰も不思議に思わなかった。
Then one morning a woman well acquainted with the madame of the marrying daughters got up to go to the lazy people’s mass. This is celebrated at 4:00 A.M. and is called the lazy people’s mass because it is not necessary to dress properly to attend it. It is held mostly for the servants anyway. So people who want to go to mass and want no bother, get up and go and come back home and go to sleep again.

This woman’s clock had stopped so she guessed at the hour and got up at 2:00 A.M. instead of 3:00 A.M. and hurried to St. Anne’s to the mass. She hurried up the high steps expecting to find the service about to begin. Instead she found an empty church except for the vestibule. In the vestibule she found two little girls dressed for first communion and with lighted candles in their hands kneeling on the floor. The whole thing was too out of place and distorted and for a while the woman just stared. Then she found her tongue and asked, “What are you two little girls doing here at such an hour and why are you dressed for first communion?”

She got no answer as she asked again, “Who are you anyway? You must go home. You cannot remain here like this.”

Then one of the little figures in white turned its dead eyes on her and said, “We are here at the orders of Madame M. P., and we shall not be able to depart until all of her daughters are married.”

At this the woman screamed and fled.

It is told that before the year was out all of the girls in the family had married. But already four of them had been divorced. For it is said that nothing gotten through “give man” is permanent.

Ah Bo Bo!
ある朝、結婚す る娘たちのマダムと顔見知りの女性が、怠け者のミサに行こうと立ち上がった。このミサは午前4時に行われ、きちんとした服装で出席する必要がないため、怠 け者のミサと呼ばれている。このミサは主に使用人たちのために行われる。ミサに行きたい人は、面倒くさがらずに起きて行き、家に戻ってまた寝る。

この女性は時計が止まっていたので、時間を推測し、午前3時ではなく午前2時に起きて、聖アンナのミサへと急いだ。ミサが始まると思って高い階段を駆け上 がった。しかし、前庭以外には誰もいなかった。前庭で彼女は、初聖体の服装をし、手に火のついたろうそくを持った二人の少女が床にひざまずいているのを見 つけた。その光景はあまりにも場違いで、歪んでいて、女性はしばらくの間、ただ見つめていた。そして舌打ちをして、こう尋ねた。「こんな時間に二人の少女 は何をしているのですか?

とにかく、あなたたちは誰なの?家に帰りなさい。このままここにいてはいけない」。

私たちはマダムM.P.の命令でここにいるのです。マダムの娘たちが全員結婚するまで、ここを離れることはできません」。

これを見て、女性は悲鳴を上げて逃げ出した。

年が明ける前に、一家の娘たちは全員結婚したと伝えられている。しかし、すでに4人が離婚していた。「ギブ・マン "を通して得たものは永久にないと言われているからだ。

ああ、ボーボー!
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Pp. 190-209




CHAPTER 13

ZOMBIES

What is the whole truth and nothing else but the truth about Zombies? I do not know, but I know that I saw the broken remnant, relic, or refuse of Felicia Felix-Mentor in a hospital yard. Here in the shadow of the Empire State Building, death and the graveyard are final. It is such a positive end that we use it as a measure of nothingness and eternity. We have the quick and the dead. But in Haiti there is the quick, the dead, and then there are Zombies.

This is the way Zombies are spoken of: They are the bodies without souls. The living dead. Once they were dead, and after that they were called back to life again.

No one can stay in Haiti long without hearing Zombies mentioned in one way or another, and the fear of this thing and all that it means seeps over the country like a ground current of cold air. This fear is real and deep. It is more like a group of fears. For there is the outspoken fear among the peasants of the work of Zombies. Sit in the market place and pass a day with the market woman and notice how often some vendeuse cries out that a Zombie with its invisible hand has filched her money, or her goods. Or the accusation is made that a Zombie has been set upon her or some one of her family to work a piece of evil. Big Zombies who come in the night to do malice are talked about. Also the little girl Zombies who are sent out by their owners in the dark dawn to sell little packets of roasted coffee. Before sun up their cries of “Cafe grille” can be heard from dark places in the streets and one can only see them if one calls out for the seller to come with her goods. Then the little dead one makes herself visible and mounts the steps.

The upper class Haitians fear too, but they do not talk about it so openly as do the poor. But to them also it is a horrible possibility. Think of the fiendishness of the thing. It is not good for a person who has lived all his life surrounded by a degree of fastidious culture, loved to his last breath by family and friends, to contemplate the probability of his resurrected body being dragged from the vault—the best that love and means could provide, and set to toiling ceaselessly in the banana fields, working like a beast, unclothed like a beast, and like a brute crouching in some foul den in the few hours allowed for rest and food. From an educated, intelligent being to an unthinking, unknowing beast. Then there is the helplessness of the situation. Family and friends cannot rescue the victim because they do not know. They think the loved one is sleeping peacefully in his grave. They may motor past the plantation where the Zombie who was once dear to them is held captive often and again and its soulless eyes may have fallen upon them without thought or recognition. It is not to be wondered at that now and then when the rumor spreads that a Zombie has been found and recognized, that angry crowds gather and threaten violence to the persons alleged to be responsible for the crime.

Yet in spite of this obvious fear and the preparations that I found being made to safeguard the bodies of the dead against this possibility, I was told by numerous upper class Haitians that the whole thing was a myth. They pointed out that the common people were superstitious, and that the talk of Zombies had no more basis in fact than the European belief in the Werewolf.

But I had the good fortune to learn of several celebrated cases in the past and then in addition, I had the rare opportunity to see and touch an authentic case. I listened to the broken noises in its throat, and then, I did what no one else had ever done, I photographed it. If I had not experienced all of this in the strong sunlight of a hospital yard, I might have come away from Haiti interested but doubtful. But I saw this case of Felicia Felix-Mentor, which was vouched for by the highest authority. So I know that there are Zombies in Haiti. People have been called back from the dead.

Now, why have these dead folk not been allowed to remain in their graves? There are several answers to this question, according to the case.

A was awakened because somebody required his body as a beast of burden. In his natural state he could never have been hired to work with his hands, so he was made into a Zombie because they wanted his services as a laborer. B was summoned to labor also but he is reduced to the level of a beast as an act of revenge. C was the culmination of “ba’ Moun” ceremony and pledge. That is, he was given as a sacrifice to pay off a debt to a spirit for benefits received. I asked how the victims were chosen and many told me that any corpse not too old to work would do. The Bocor watched the cemetery and went back and took suitable bodies. Others said no, that the Bocor and his associates knew exactly who was going to be resurrected even before they died. They knew this because they themselves brought about the “death.”

Maybe a plantation owner has come to the Bocor to “buy” some laborers, or perhaps an enemy wants the utmost in revenge. He makes an agreement with the Bocor to do the work. After the proper ceremony, the Bocor in his most powerful and dreaded aspect mounts a horse with his face toward the horse’s tail and rides after dark to the house of the victim. There he places his lips to the crack of the door and sucks out the soul of the victim and rides off in all speed. Soon the victim falls ill, usually beginning with a headache, and in a few hours is dead. The Bocor, not being a member of the family, is naturally not invited to the funeral. But he is there in the cemetery. He has spied on everything from a distance. He is in the cemetery but does not approach the party. He never even faces it directly, but takes in everything out of the corner of his eye. At midnight he will return for his victim.

Everybody agrees that the Bocor is there at the tomb at midnight with the soul of the dead one. But some contend that he has it in a bottle all labelled. Others say no, that he has it in his bare hand. That is the only disagreement. The tomb is opened by the associates and the Bocor enters the tomb, calls the name of the victim. He must answer because the Bocor has the soul there in his hand. The dead man answers by lifting his head and the moment he does this, the Bocor passes the soul under his nose for a brief second and chains his wrists. Then he beats the victim on the head to awaken him further. Then he leads him forth and the tomb is closed again as if it never had been disturbed.

The victim is surrounded by the associates and the march to the hounfort (Voodoo temple and its surroundings) begins. He is hustled along in the middle of the crowd. Thus he is screened from prying eyes to a great degree and also in his half-waking state he is unable to orientate himself. But the victim is not carried directly to the hounfort. First he is carried past the house where he lived. This is always done. Must be. If the victim were not taken past his former house, later on he would recognize it and return. But once he is taken past, it is gone from his consciousness forever. It is as if it never existed for him. He is then taken to the hounfort and given a drop of a liquid, the formula for which is most secret. After that the victim is a Zombie. He will work ferociously and tirelessly without consciousness of his surroundings and conditions and without memory of his former state. He can never speak again, unless he is given salt. “We have examples of a man who gave salt to a demon by mistake and he come man again and can write the name of the man who gave him to the loa,” Jean Nichols told me and added that of course the family of the victim went straight to a Bocor and “gave” the man who had “given” their son.

Now this “Ba Moun” (give man) ceremony is a thing much talked about in Haiti. It is the old European belief in selling one’s self to the devil but with Haitian variations. In Europe the man gives himself at the end of a certain period. Over in Haiti he gives others and only gives himself when no more acceptable victims can be found. But he cannot give strangers. It must be a real sacrifice. He must give members of his own family or most intimate friends. Each year the sacrifice must be renewed and there is no avoiding the payments. There are tales of men giving every member of the family, even his wife after nieces, nephews, sons and daughters were gone. Then at last he must go himself. There are lurid tales of the last days of men who have gained wealth and power thru “give man.”

The wife of one man found him sitting apart from the family weeping. When she demanded to know the trouble, he told her that he had been called to go, but she was not to worry because he had put everything in order. He was crying because he had loved her very much and it was hard to leave her. She pointed out that he was not sick and of course it was ridiculous for him to talk of death. Then with his head in her lap he told her about the “services” he had made to obtain the advantages he had had in order to surround her with increasing comforts. Finally she was the only person left that he could offer but he would gladly die himself rather than offer her as a sacrifice. He told her of watching the day of the vow come and go while his heart grew heavier with every passing hour. The second night of the contract lapsed and he heard the beasts stirring in their little box. The third night which was the one just past, a huge and a terrible beast had emerged in the room. If he could go to the Bocor that same day with a victim, he still could go another year at least. But he had no one to offer except his wife and he had no desire to live without her. He took an affectionate farewell of her, shut himself in his own room and continued to weep. Two days later he was dead.

Another man received the summons late one night. Bosu Tricorne, the terrible three-horned god, had appeared in his room and made him know that he must go. Bosu Tricorne bore a summons from Baron Cimiterre, the lord of the cemetery. He sprang from his bed in terror and woke up his family by his fear noises. He had to be restrained from hurling himself out of the window. And all the time he was shouting of the things he had done to gain success. Naming the people he had given. The family in great embarrassment dragged him away from the window and tried to confine him in a room where his shouts could not be heard by the neighbors. That failing, they sent him off to a private room in a hospital where he spent two days confessing before he died. There are many, many tales like that in the mouths of the people.

There is the story of one man of great courage who, coming to the end of his sacrifices, feeling that he had received what he bargained for, went two days ahead and gave himself up to the spirit to die. But the spirit so admired his courage that he gave him back all of the years he had bargained to take.

Why do men allegedly make such bargains with the spirits who have such terrible power to reward and punish?

When a man is ambitious and sees no way to get there, he becomes desperate. When he has nothing and wants prosperity he goes to a houngan and says, “I have nothing and I am disposed to do anything to have money.”

The houngan replies, “He who does not search, does not find.”

“I have come to you because I wish to search,” the man replies.

“Well, then,” the houngan says, “we are going to make a ceremony, and the loa are going to talk with you.”

The houngan and the man go into the hounfort. He goes to a small altar and makes the symbol with ashes and gunpowder (indicating that it is a Petro invocation), pours the libation and begins to sing with the Ascon and then asks the seeker, “What loa you want me to call for you?”

The man makes his choice. Then the houngan begins in earnest to summon the loa wanted. No one knows what he says because he is talking “langage” that is, language, a way of denoting the African patter used by all houngans for special occasions. The syllables are his very own, that is, something that cannot be taught. It must come to the priest from the loa. He calls many gods. Then the big jars under the table that contain spirits of houngans long dead begin to groan. These spirits in jars have been at the bottom of the water for a long time. The loa was not taken from their heads at death and so they did not go away from the earth but went to the bottom of the water to stay until they got tired and demanded to be taken out. All houngans have one more of these spirit jars in the hounfort. Some have many. The groaning of the jars gets louder as the houngan keeps calling. Finally one jar speaks distinctly, “Pourquoi ou derange’ moi?” (Why do you disturb me?) The houngan signals the man to answer the loa. So he states his case.

“Papa, loa, ou mem, qui connais toute baggage ou mem qui chef te de l’eau, moi duange’ on pour mande’ ou servir moi.” (Papa, loa, yourself, who knows all things, you yourself who is master of waters, I disturb you to ask you to serve me.)

The Voice: Ma connasis ca on besoin. Mais, on dispose pour servir moi aussi? (I know what you want, but are you disposed to serve me also?)

The Man: Yes, command me what you want.

Voice: I am going to give you all that you want, but you must make all things that I want. Write your name in your own blood and put the paper in the jar.

The houngan, still chanting, pricks the man’s finger so sharply that he cries out. The blood flows and the supplicant dips a pen in it and writes his name and puts the paper in the jar. The houngan opens a bottle of rum and pours some in the jar. There is the gurgling sound of drinking.

The Voice: And now I am good (I do good) for you. Now I tell you what you must do. You must give me someone that you love. Today you are going into your house and stay until tomorrow. On the eighth day you are returning here with something of the man that you are going to give me. Come also with some money in gold. The voice ceases. The houngan finishes presently, after repeating everything that the Voice from the jar has said, and dismisses the man. He goes away and returns on the day appointed and the houngan calls up the loa again.

The Voice: Are you prepared for me?

The Man: Yes.

The Voice: Have you done all that I told you?

The Man: Yes.

The Voice (to houngan): Go out. (to man) Give me the gold money.

(The man gives it.)

The Voice: Now, you belong to me and I can do with you as I wish. If I want you in the cemetery I can put you there.

The Man: Yes, I know you have all power with me. I put myself in your care because I want prosperity.

The Voice: That I will give you. Look under the table. You will find a little box. In this box there are little beasts. Take this little box and put it in your pocket. Every eighth day you must put in it five hosts (Communion wafers). Never forget to give the hosts. Now, go to your house and put the little box in a big box. Treat it as if it were your son. It is now your son. Every midnight open the box and let the beasts out. At four o’clock he will return and cry to come in and you will open for him and close the box again. And every time you give the beasts the communion, immediately after, you will receive large sums of money. Each year on this date you will come to me with another man that you wish to give me. Also you must bring the box with the beasts. If you do not come, the third night after the date, the beasts in the box will become great huge animals and execute my will upon you for your failure to keep your vow. If you are very sick on that day that the offering falls due say to your best friend that he must bring the offering box for you. Also you must send the name of the person you intend to give me as pay for working for you and he must sign a new contract with me for you.

All is finished between the Voice and the man. The houngan reenters and sends the man away with assurance that he will commence the work at once. Alone he makes ceremony to call the soul of the person who is to be sacrificed. No one would be permitted to see that. When the work in the hounfort is finished, then speeds the rider on the horse. The rider who faces backwards on the horse, who will soon place his lips to the crack of the victim’s door and draw his soul away. Then will follow the funeral and after that the midnight awakening. And the march to the hounfort for the drop of liquid that will make him a Zombie, one of the living dead.

Some maintain that a real and true priest of Voodoo, the houngan, has nothing to do with such practices. That it is the bocor and priests of the devil—worshipping cults—who do these things. But it is not always easy to tell just who is a houngan and who is a bocor. Often the two offices occupy the same man at different times. There is no doubt that some houngans hold secret ceremonies which their usual following know nothing of. It would be necessary to investigate every houngan and bocor in Haiti rigidly over a period of years to determine who was purely houngan and who was purely bocor. There is certainly some overlapping in certain cases. A well known houngan of Leogane, who has become a very wealthy man by his profession is spoken of as a bocor more often than as a houngan. There are others in the same category that I could name. Soon after I arrived in Haiti a young woman who was on friendly terms with me said, “You know, you should not go around alone picking acquaintances with these houngans. You are liable to get involved in something that is not good. You must have someone to guide you.” I laughed it off at the time, but months later I began to see what she was hinting at.

What is involved in the “give man” and making of Zombies is a question that cannot be answered anywhere with legal proof. Many names are called. Most frequently mentioned in this respect is the Man of Trou Forban. That legendary character who lives in the hole in the mountain near St. Marc. He who has enchanted caves full of coffee and sugar plantations. The entrance to this cave or this series of caves is said to be closed by a huge rock that is lifted by a glance from the master. The Marines are said to have blown up this great rock with dynamite at one time, but the next morning it was there whole and in place again. When the master of Trou Forban walks, the whole earth trembles. There are tales of the master and his wife, who is reputed to be a greater bocor than he. She does not live with him at Trou Forban. She is said to have a great hounfort of her own on the mountain called Tapion near Petit Gouave. She is such a great houngan that she is honored by Agoue’ te Royo, Maitre l’eau, and walks the waters with the same ease that others walk the earth. But she rides in boats whenever it suits her fancy. One time she took a sailboat to go up the coast near St. Marc to visit her husband, Vixama. She appeared to be an ordinary peasant woman and the captain paid her no especial attention until they arrived on the coast below Trou Forban. Then she revealed herself and expressed her great satisfaction with the voyage. She felt that the captain had been extremely kind and courteous, so she went to call her husband to come down to the sea to meet him. Realizing now who she was, the captain was afraid and made ready to sail away before she could return from the long trip up the mountain. But she had mounted to the trou very quickly and returned with Vixama to find the captain and his crew poling the boat away from the shore in the wildest terror. The wind was against them and they could not sail away. Mme. Vixama smiled at their fright and hurled two grains of corn which she held in her hand on to the deck of the boat and they immediately turned into golden coin. The captain was more afraid and hastily brushed them into the sea. They sailed south all during the night, much relieved that they had broken all connections with Vixama and his wife. But at first light the next morning he found four gold coins of the same denomination as the two that he had refused the day before. Then he knew that the woman of Vixama had passed the night on board and had given them a good voyage as well—the four gold coins were worth twenty dollars each.

There are endless tales of the feats of the occupant of this hole high up on this inaccessible mountain. But in fact it has yet to be proved that anyone has ever laid eyes on him. He is like the goddess in the volcano of Hawaii, and Vulcan in Mt. Vesuvius. It is true that men, taking advantage of the legend and the credulous nature of the people, have set up business in the mountain to their profit. The name of this Man of Trou Forban is known by few and rarely spoken by those who know it. This whispered name is Vixama, which in itself means invisible spirit. He who sits with a hive of honey-bees in his long flowing beard. It is he who is reputed to be the greatest buyer of souls. His contact man is reputed to be Mardi Progres. But we hear too much about the practice around Archahaie and other places to credit Trou Forban as the headquarters. Some much more accessible places than the mountain top is the answer. And some much more substantial being than the invisible Vixama.

If embalming were customary, it would remove the possibility of Zombies from the minds of the people. But since it is not done, many families take precautions against the body being disturbed.

Some set up a watch in the cemetery for thirty-six hours after the burial. There could be no revival after that. Some families have the bodies cut open, insuring real death. Many peasants put a knife in the right hand of the corpse and flex the arm in such a way that it will deal a blow with the knife to whoever disturbs it for the first day or so. But the most popular defense is to poison the body. Many of the doctors have especially long hypodermic needles for injecting a dose of poison into the heart, and sometimes into other parts of the body as well.

A case reported from Port du Paix proves the necessity of this. In Haiti if a person dies whose parents are still alive, the mother does not follow the body to the grave unless it is an only child. Neither does she wear mourning in the regular sense. She wears that coarse material known as “gris-blanc.” The next day after the burial, however, she goes to the grave to say her private farewell.

In the following case everything had seemed irregular. The girl’s sudden illness and quick death. Then, too, her body stayed warm. So the family was persuaded that her death was unnatural and that some further use was to be made of her body after burial. They were urged to have it secretly poisoned before it was interred. This was done and the funeral went off in routine manner.

The next day, like Mary going to the tomb of Jesus, the mother made her way to the cemetery to breathe those last syllables that mothers do over their dead, and like Mary she found the stones rolled away. The tomb was open and the body lifted out of the coffin. It had not been moved because it was so obviously poisoned. But the ghouls had not troubled themselves to rearrange things as they were.

Testimony regarding Zombies with names and dates come from all parts of Haiti. I shall cite a few without using actual names to avoid embarrassing the families of the victims.

In the year 1898 at Cap Haitian a woman had one son who was well educated but rather petted and spoiled. There was some trouble about a girl. He refused to accept responsibility and when his mother was approached by a member of the girl’s family she refused to give any sort of satisfaction. Two weeks later the boy died rather suddenly and was buried. Several Sundays later the mother went to church and after she went wandering around the town—just walking aimlessly in her grief, she found herself walking along Bord Mer. She saw some laborers loading ox carts with bags of coffee and was astonished to see her son among these silent workers who were being driven to work with ever increasing speed by the foreman. She saw her son see her without any sign of recognition. She rushed up to him screaming out his name. He regarded her without recognition and without sound. By this time the foreman tore her loose from the boy and drove her away. She went to get help, but it was a long time and when she returned she could not find him. The foreman denied that there had ever been anyone of that description around. She never saw him again, though she haunted the water front and coffee warehouses until she died.

A white Protestant missionary minister told me that he had a young man convert to his flock who was a highly intelligent fellow and a clever musician. He went to a dance and fell dead on the floor. The missionary conducted the funeral and saw the young man placed in the tomb and the tomb closed. A few weeks later another white minister of another Protestant denomination came to him and said, “I had occasion to visit the jail and who do you suppose I saw there? It was C. R.”

“But it is not possible. C. R. is dead. I saw him buried with my own eyes.”

“Well, you just go down to the prison and see for yourself. He is there, for nobody knows I saw him. After I had talked with a prisoner I went there to see, I passed along the line of cells and saw him crouching like some wild beast in one of the cells. I hurried here to tell you about it.”

The former pastor of C. R. hurried to the prison and made some excuse to visit in the cell block. And there was his late convert, just as he had been told. This happened in Port-au-Prince. Then there was the case of P., also a young man. He died and was buried. The day of the funeral passed and the mother being so stricken some friends remained overnight in the house with her and her daughter. It seems that the sister of the dead boy was more wakeful than the rest. Late in the night she heard subdued chanting, the sound of blows in the street approaching the house and looked out of the window. At the moment she did so, she heard the voice of her brother crying out: “Mama! Mama! Sauvez moi!” (Save me!) She screamed and aroused the house and others of the inside looked out and saw the procession and heard the cry. But such is the terror inspired by these ghouls, that no one, not even the mother or sister, dared go out to attempt a rescue. The procession moved on out of sight. And in the morning the young girl was found to be insane.

But the most famous Zombie case of all Haiti is the case of Marie M. It was back in October 1909 that this beautiful young daughter of a prominent family died and was buried. Everything appeared normal and people generally forgot about the beautiful girl who had died in the very bloom of her youth. Five years passed.

Then one day a group of girls from the same school which Marie had attended went for a walk with one of the Sisters who conducted the school. As they passed a house one of the girls screamed and said that she had seen Marie M. The Sister tried to convince her she was mistaken. But others had seen her too. The news swept over Port-au-Prince like wild fire. The house was surrounded, but the owner refused to let anyone enter without the proper legal steps. The father of the supposedly dead girl was urged to take out a warrant and have the house searched. This he refused to do at once. Finally he was forced to do so by the pressure of public opinion. By that time the owner had left secretly. There was no one nor nothing in the house. The sullen action of the father caused many to accuse him of complicity in the case. Some accused her uncle and others her god father. And some accused all three. The public clamored for her grave to be opened for inspection. Finally this was done. A skeleton was in the coffin but it was too long for the box. Also the clothes that the girl had been buried in were not upon the corpse. They were neatly folded beside the skeleton that had strangely outgrown its coffin.

It is said that the reason she was in the house where she was seen was that the houngan who had held her had died. His wife wanted to be rid of the Zombies that he had collected. She went to a priest about it and he told her these people must be liberated. Restitution must be made as far as possible. So the widow of the houngan had turned over Marie M. among others to this officer of the church and it was while they were wondering what steps to take in the matter that she was seen by her school mates. Later dressed in the habit of a nun she was smuggled off to France where she was seen later in a convent by her brother. It was the most notorious case in all Haiti and people still talk about it whenever Zombies are mentioned.

In the course of a conversation on November 8, 1936, Dr. Rulx Léon, Director-General of the Service d’ Hygiene, told me that a Zombie had been found on the road and was now at the hospital at Gonaives. I had his permission to make an investigation of the matter. He gave me letters to the officers of the hospital. On the following Sunday I went up to Gonaives and spent the day. The chief of staff of the hospital was very kind and helped me in every way that he could. We found the Zombie in the hospital yard. They had just set her dinner before her but she was not eating. She hovered against the fence in a sort of defensive position. The moment that she sensed our approach, she broke off a limb of a shrub and began to use it to dust and clean the ground and the fence and the table which bore her food. She huddled the cloth about her head more closely and showed every sign of fear and expectation of abuse and violence. The two doctors with me made kindly noises and tried to reassure her. She seemed to hear nothing. Just kept on trying to hide herself. The doctor uncovered her head for a moment but she promptly clapped her arms and hands over it to shut out the things she dreaded.

I said to the doctor that I had permission of Dr. Léon to take some pictures and he helped me to go about it. I took her first in the position that she assumed herself whenever left alone. That is, cringing against the wall with the cloth hiding her face and head. Then in other positions. Finally the doctor forcibly uncovered her and held her so that I could take her face. And the sight was dreadful. That blank face with the dead eyes. The eyelids were white all around the eyes as if they had been burned with acid. It was pronounced enough to come out in the picture. There was nothing that you could say to her or get from her except by looking at her, and the sight of this wreckage was too much to endure for long. We went to a more cheerful part of the hospital and sat down to talk. We discussed at great length the theories of how Zombies come to be. It was concluded that it is not a case of awakening the dead, but a matter of the semblance of death induced by some drug known to a few. Some secret probably brought from Africa and handed down from generation to generation. These men know the effect of the drug and the antidote. It is evident that it destroys that part of the brain which governs speech and will power. The victims can move and act but cannot formulate thought. The two doctors expressed their desire to gain this secret, but they realize the impossibility of doing so. These secret societies are secret. They will die before they will tell. They cited instances. I said I was willing to try. Dr. Legros said that perhaps I would find myself involved in something so terrible, something from which I could not extricate myself alive, and that I would curse the day that I had entered upon my search. Then we came back to the case in hand, and Dr. Legros and Dr. Belfong told me her story.

Her name is Felicia Felix-Mentor. She was a native of Ennery and she and her husband kept a little grocery. She had one child, a boy. In 1907 she took suddenly ill and died and was buried. There were the records to show. The years passed. The husband married again and advanced himself in life. The little boy became a man. People had forgotten all about the wife and mother who had died so long ago.

Then one day in October 1936 someone saw a naked woman on the road and reported it to the Garde d’Haiti. Then this same woman turned up on a farm and said, “This is the farm of my father. I used to live here.” The tenants tried to drive her away. Finally the boss was sent for and he came and recognized her as his sister who had died and been buried twenty-nine years before. She was in such wretched condition that the authorities were called in and she was sent to the hospital. Her husband was sent for to confirm the identification, but he refused. He was embarrassed by the matter as he was now a minor official and wanted nothing to do with the affair at all. But President Vincent and Dr. Leon were in the neighborhood at the time and he was forced to come. He did so and reluctantly made the identification of this woman as his former wife.

How did this woman, supposedly dead for twenty-nine years, come to be wandering naked on a road? Nobody will tell who knows. The secret is with some bocor dead or alive. Sometimes a missionary converts one of these bocors and he gives up all his paraphernalia to the church and frees his captives if he has any. They are not freed publicly, you understand, as that would bring down the vengeance of the community upon his head. These creatures, unable to tell anything—for almost always they have lost the power of speech forever—are found wandering about. Sometimes the bocor dies and his widow refuses their responsibility for various reasons. Then again they are set free. Neither of these happenings is common.

But Zombies are wanted for more uses besides field work. They are reputedly used as sneak thieves. The market women cry out continually that little Zombies are stealing their change and goods. Their invisible hands are believed to provide well for their owners. But I have heard of still another service performed by Zombies. It is in the story that follows:

A certain matron of Port-au-Prince had five daughters and her niece also living with her. Suddenly she began to marry them off one after the other in rapid succession. They were attractive girls but there were numerous girls who were more attractive whose parents could not find desirable husbands for. People began to marvel at the miracle. When madame was asked directly how she did it, she always answered by saying, “Filles ce’marchandies peressables” (Girls are perishable goods, it is necessary to get them off hand quickly). That told nobody anything, but they kept on wondering just the same.

Then one morning a woman well acquainted with the madame of the marrying daughters got up to go to the lazy people’s mass. This is celebrated at 4:00 A.M. and is called the lazy people’s mass because it is not necessary to dress properly to attend it. It is held mostly for the servants anyway. So people who want to go to mass and want no bother, get up and go and come back home and go to sleep again.

This woman’s clock had stopped so she guessed at the hour and got up at 2:00 A.M. instead of 3:00 A.M. and hurried to St. Anne’s to the mass. She hurried up the high steps expecting to find the service about to begin. Instead she found an empty church except for the vestibule. In the vestibule she found two little girls dressed for first communion and with lighted candles in their hands kneeling on the floor. The whole thing was too out of place and distorted and for a while the woman just stared. Then she found her tongue and asked, “What are you two little girls doing here at such an hour and why are you dressed for first communion?”

She got no answer as she asked again, “Who are you anyway? You must go home. You cannot remain here like this.”

Then one of the little figures in white turned its dead eyes on her and said, “We are here at the orders of Madame M. P., and we shall not be able to depart until all of her daughters are married.”

At this the woman screamed and fled.

It is told that before the year was out all of the girls in the family had married. But already four of them had been divorced. For it is said that nothing gotten through “give man” is permanent.

Ah Bo Bo!

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