Trial by fire depicted in a medieval manuscript (Source: Wikipedia)

In the Middle Ages those suspected of witchcraft were often subjected to a ‘trial by fire’ to prove their innocence or guilt. The idea was that fire was a divine manifestation and hence the ordeal of being burnt would result in harm only for those consorting with the devil while sparing the innocent (Russell 1972). Today, we know that the only way to escape the ordeal of being burnt unscathed is not to be subjected to it in the first place.

Trial by fire gradually disappeared and was banned by the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215. Many theologians, priests and lawyers of the time came to regard trial by fire as superstitious, and began to prefer ‘more rational’ linguistic methods such as confessions and cross-examinations. The New England Puritans even found a way to have their cake and eat it, too: a linguistic ordeal.

This linguistic ordeal was basically a test of public speaking: a person accused of witchcraft was asked to recite the Lord’s Prayer in the courtroom. The assumption was that a witch was so beholden to the devil that they would not be able to say the Lord’s Prayer correctly and that, if they tried to, god would confuse their tongue.

What could go wrong you may think? At a time when Christianity was practically universal and people learnt to say the Lord’s Prayer before they learnt to speak properly, surely reciting the Lord’s Prayer was not a big deal. At first glance, it does sound like a better way for a suspect to prove their innocence of witchcraft than being burnt and suffering no harm.

However, this is not what the court records tell us. Suspects asked to recite the Lord’s Prayer failed just as often as those subjected to burning, and the conviction rate was hundred percent. The Salem witchcraft trials, for instance, report many cases of accused witches who could not recite the Lord’s Prayer; but not a single case of an accused who could recite it.

What went wrong?

To begin with, it was entirely up to the court to decide what constituted a correct recital. For instance, one suspect failed the test because he was heard to say ‘hollowed be thy name’ instead of ‘hallowed be thy name’ (Young 1989, p. 258).

Circa 1692, The trial of George Jacobs for witchcraft at the Essex Institute in Salem, Massachusetts. (Photo by MPI/Getty Images)

Second, circumstances in the court often were chaotic with the supposed victims of witchcraft present and presenting with fits and convulsions. As a 20^th century analyst put it: ‘anyone might make a mistake reciting the Lord’s Prayer, particularly if the floor was covered with screaming, convulsive girls’ (Erikson; quoted in Young 1989, p. 250). This was obviously not an ideal context for a performance in public speaking: the suspects were often poorly educated peasant and servant people, with no experience in public speaking whatsoever. Even if they were not afraid to speak up in public, knowing how much was at stake was surely enough to induce a bad case of nerves.

A man named John Willard, who was executed in New England for witchcraft on August 19, 1692, for instance, tried to say the Lord’s Prayer again and again but simply could not, as the trial records report (the transcript is from the Salem Witchcraft Papers at the University of Virginia website; I’ve edited the text to make it more readable):

Willard: I am as innocent as the child that is now to be born.

Juror: Can you pray the Lord’s Prayer?

Willard: Yes.

Juror: Let us hear you.

(He stumbled at the threshold and said ‘Maker of Heaven and Earth.’ He began again and missed.)

Willard: It is a strange thing, I can say it at another time. I think I am bewitched as well as they. (And laughed) [‘they’ is a reference to the women and children, the supposed victims of witchcraft, who were convulsing on the floor]

(Again he missed. Again he missed and cried well this is a strange thing I cannot say it. Again he tried and missed.)

Willard: Well it is these wicked ones that do so overcome me. [‘these wicked ones’ is a reference to the women and children, the supposed victims of witchcraft, convulsing on the floor.]

Juror: Well say what you will confess.

Willard: I am as innocent as the child unborn.

Juror: Do you not see God will not suffer you to pray to him? Are not you sensible of it?

John Willard was the former constable of Salem and court proceedings were not an unfamiliar context to him. For most of the accused this was different. In addition to failing nerves, some suspects failed the test because they did not speak English. This was the case with Ann Goody Glover, who was executed for witchcraft in Boston on November 16, 1688.

Cotton Mather (Source: Wikipedia)

Ann Glover was an Irish native, who was swept up in Cromwell’s invasion of Ireland in 1649-50 and was one of ca. 50,000 Irish men and women who were sold into slavery in Barbados (O’Callaghan 2000). From Barbados she somehow made her way to Boston, where she found herself in the 1680s as a domestic servant. When the children in the family for who she worked fell sick, she was accused of witchcraft and was examined by the famous Cotton Mather himself; the man who is often seen as the architect of the Salem Witch Trials.

In his treatise Memorable providences, relating to witchcraft and possessions Mather notes that she ‘refused’ to speak English:

The Court could receive Answers from her in none but the Irish, which was her Native Language; although she understood the English very well, and had accustomed her whole Family to none but that Language in her former Conversation. [Here and elsewhere: spelling and punctuation adapted]

It is, of course, impossible to know what Ann Glover’s proficiency in English was; while she may have understood it ‘very well,’ as Mather claims, the circumstances of her life make it unlikely that she would have had much productive proficiency in English. She certainly was unable to recite the Lord’s Prayer in English:

An Experiment was made, whether she could recite the Lord’s Prayer; and it was found, that though clause after clause was most carefully repeated unto her, yet when she said it after them that prompted her, she could not possibly avoid making Nonsense of it, with some ridiculous Depravations. (Mather)

At any rate, ‘two honest and faithful men that were interpreters’ were engaged for her. After cross-examination through these interpreters, of which Mather only relates that it was ‘long,’ Ann Glover finally confessed to witchcraft and pleaded guilty.

Despite her confession, doubts seem to have remained, particularly in regards to her intellectual and mental fitness to stand trial. Mather relates the examination that ensued as follows:

To make all clear, the Court appointed five or six Physicians one evening to examine her very strictly, whether she were not crazed in her Intellectuals, and had not procured to herself by Folly and Madness the Reputation of a Witch. Diverse hours did they spend with her; and in all that while no Discourse came from her, but what was pertinent and agreeable: particularly, when they asked her, “What she thought would become of her soul?” she replied “You ask me a very solemn Question, and I cannot well tell what to say to it.” She owned herself a Roman Catholic; and could recite her Pater Noster [=Lord’s Prayer] in Latin very readily; but there was one Clause or two always too hard for her, whereof she said, “She could not repeat it, if she might have all the world.” In the up-shot, the Doctors returned her Compos Mentis; and Sentence of Death was passed upon her.

Memorial plaque for Ann Glover

That Ann Glover would have been able to speak Latin may seem out of character until one remembers that the language of the Catholic Church and Catholic prayer was Latin until well into the second half of the 20^th century. It would not have been at all unusual for an illiterate Irish peasant to have memorized the central prayer of her faith in the Latin language. It is also likely that she had learnt the Lord’s Prayer in one single chunk, and it is unlikely that being able to recite the Lord’s Prayer meant that she could segment it. The latter becomes clear from the fact that – despite her proficient recital, as Mather notes – ‘there was one Clause or two always too hard for her.’

The Catholic and Protestant versions of the Lord’s Prayer differ by precisely ‘one Clause or two.’ The closing doxology ‘For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever’ (Latin: ‘Quia tuum est regnum, et potestas, et Gloria, in saecula.’) is part of the Lord’s Prayer in most Protestant versions but is absent from the Catholic version. Repeating a random sentence in a foreign language is incredibly difficult, and so it is not surprising that Ann Glover could not do it in English nor Latin.

The Reverend George Burroughs on trial for witchcraft

In sum, the prayer test was little different from trial by fire: there was always a catch; and, just as with the fire ordeal, the only way to ‘pass’ the prayer test was not to be subjected to it. The only possible outcome was failure.

In fact, not everyone who came under suspicion of witchcraft was subjected to the prayer test; and it may well be that those who could have been expected to pass it, were not subjected to it. The latter conclusion could be drawn on the basis of the case of George Burroughs, the only minister to be executed for witchcraft in Salem. George Burroughs was not subject to the prayer test. However, he delivered the prayer ‘perfectly’ before he was hanged; it did nothing to save his life.

Mr. Burroughs was carried, through the streets of Salem to Execution; when he was upon the Ladder, he made a Speech for the clearing of his Innocency, with such Solemn and Serious Expressions, as were to the Admiration of all present; his Prayer (which he concluded by repeating the Lord’s Prayer) was so well worded, and uttered with such composedness, and such (at least seeming) fervency of Spirit, as was very affecting, and drew Tears from many (so that is seemed to some that the Spectators would hinder the Execution). (Robert Calef’s More Wonders of the Invisible World; quoted from Salem Witch Trials)

References

O’Callaghan, S. (2000). To Hell or Barbados: The Ethnic Cleansing of Ireland. Dublin: The O’Brien Press.

Russell, J. B. (1972). Witchcraft in the Middle Ages. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.

Young, M. M. (1989). Comment: The Salem Witch Trials 300 Years Later: How Far Has the American Legal System Come? How Much Further Does It Need to Go? Tulane Law Review, 64, 234-258

Carnatic singer Prema Anandakrishnan and her accompanists performing for the monthly Sydney Music Circle concert

An important element of language relates to its aesthetic use, in other words, how we make our lives beautiful and present ourselves to the world beautifully through language. Anthropologists and linguists have been interested in this dimension throughout the 20^th century in their study of ritual and folklore and the ways that language is used in them through song, chant, oratory and other kinds of interactional discourse. Bauman’s (1975) Verbal Art as Performance crystalised many of these ideas to place an emphasis on performance when looking at such aesthetic modes of communication and to establish performance as an important area of study within Sociolinguistics and Anthropological Linguistics. Singing is an important cultural activity in which language as performance intertwines with music. As with many other forms of performance, singing often takes place within the context of a range of other embodied cultural practices.

In my Linguistics PhD thesis supervised by Dr. Verna Rieschild at Macquarie University, I looked at two singing traditions – Irish traditional singing and South Indian Carnatic singing – as practiced in diasporic communities in Australia focusing on performance, language choice and language ideologies and musicolinguistic artistry. My thesis research provided a fascinating opportunity to apply the ideas from the study of language as performance to forms of singing I loved, and explore dimensions of multilingualism, globalisation and migration within them.

In singing, highly marked language choices can be made such as using a language you don’t know or normally speak, or using a non-dominant language in a dominant setting. The transformative nature of the performance enables a transformation of settings and communicative practices. Hence, Irish traditional singers in Australia who speak Irish let their use of Irish in songs spill over into the informal speech or banter between the songs. Tamil-speaking Carnatic singers choose a song in Tamil (from the multilingual song repertoire) to elaborate with extended musicolinguistic improvisation.

Language ideologies, equally prevalent in singing as they are in speech, are particularly strong and transformative due to the expressive and heightened nature of performance. In Carnatic singing, an ideology of devotion to the Tamil language has competed with ideologies about music as a “universal language”- in other words, beyond any particular spoken language- throughout the 20^th century (Ramaswamy 1997; Weidman 2005). Hence, the multilingual repertoire and centrality of songs in Telugu and Sanskrit has remained along with recognition of Tamil and singers consciously or unconsciously vary (typically in small degrees) as to how they weight each language in terms of the number of songs in each language and how this correlates with the types of songs chosen (some Carnatic songs are considered to be more musically “heavy” and consequently more at the core of the repertoire). Meanwhile, Irish traditional singing is connected with ideologies relating to Irish language use which have arisen in the course of its revival and resistance to the hegemonic influence of English.

Perhaps the most “moving” aspect of singing, however, is the way that music and language artfully intersect in performance, which I call musicolinguistic artistry. In the final part of my thesis, I analysed the musicolinguistic artistry of both singing traditions. In Irish traditional singing, one aspect of musicolinguistic artistry is the ways that singers perform different versions of the same song with slight differences in melody, rhythm, text or performance practice. Singers typically maintain aspects of the particular version they acquired but usually put their own individual stamp on it through acceptable variations in the song text (O Laoire 2004), innovative performance practices such as harmony or framing the song in a particular way through banter.

In South Indian Carnatic singing, musicolinguistic artistry is at its zenith in the improvisatory format known as niraval (literally “filling up”) in which a line from a song is repeated in various melodic and rhythmic combinations over the continuing steady beat cycle of the song. In niraval, the singer first uses the musical elements to emphasise particularly meaningful phrases in the song text and then gradually develops the melody and rhythm to increasing virtuosity to the extent that the line of text becomes more of a vehicle for the music (Radhakrishnan 2012).

The diasporic context adds the further dimension of migration and transnational movement. In the Australia-based communities of practice engaged in Irish traditional singing and South Indian Carnatic music, the singing traditions are transplanted from their territorial origins, evoking a strong sense of connection to those cultural homelands and triggering or providing a space for other embodied cultural and linguistic practices which accompany the singing traditions (cf. Ram 2000; Dutkova-Cope 2000). Performance events of these singing traditions hence create micro-level ecologies in which practices of cultural continuity and language maintenance and revitalisation can unfold in ways that are meaningful and beautiful. Practices of transmission of these traditions and transnationalism (e.g. singers or other community members traveling “back” to Ireland or South India for learning, performing or attending performances) add another layer which further strengthens continuity.

Looking at these two singing traditions in my thesis, I have realised that performance animates and “moves” language in a number of ways, particularly when what is being performed is language itself. Hence singing and other forms of performed discourse could be seen as another kind of “language on the move”, encompassing the range of communicative functions and social practices reflected in everyday speech but also transcending them into an aesthetic experience. When the language being moved through performance moves globally through migration and transnational practice, the shifts created are strong and encouraging for linguistic diversity in a multicultural world.

References

Bauman, R. (1975). Verbal art as performance. American Anthropologist, 77(2), 290-311.

Dutkova-Cope, L. (2000). Texas Czech folk music and ethnic identity. Pragmatics, 10(1), 7-37.

O Laoire, L. (2004). The right words: Conflict and resolution in an oral Gaelic song text. Oral Tradition, 19(2), 187-213.

Ram, K. (2000). Dancing the past into life: The rasa, nrtta and raga of immigrant existence. Australian Journal of Anthropology, 11(3), 261-273.

Ramaswamy, S. (1997). Passions of the tongue : language devotion in Tamil India, 1891-1970. Berkeley. University of California Press. 

Radhakrishnan, M. (2012) ‘Musicolinguistic artistry of niraval in Carnatic vocal music’ in Ponsonnet M L Dao & M Bowler (eds) The 42nd Australian Linguistic Society Conference Proceedings – 2011 (Canberra, 1-4 Dec 2011) Canberra: ANU Research Repository

Weidman, A. (2005). Can the subaltern sing? Music, language, and the politics of voice in early twentieth-century south India Indian Economic & Social History Review, 42 (4), 485-511 DOI: 10.1177/001946460504200404