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My Memories of France - The Burning Times

Truthseeker

Truthseeker

Former Moderator
Hello everyone, :)

This was not something I planned to do, but someone who knows about these memories encouraged me to post them. I agreed to do it because I think it's important to shed some light on this time in history.

I remember a life as a young lady in France named Caroline. She lived during the 16th century in, I believe, the region of Lorraine with her mother and father. I've grown fond of Caroline because she was feisty, tough, and not afraid to do things her own way. Though admirable, these traits caused her much trouble. Here are some of her experiences...

It is a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky. My father and I have traveled to a town that is not our own. He is here to pick up some things that we cannot get in our village. I like this town. The buildings are large, and the street is made of stone. You don’t have to walk in the mud. There is a large open area in the middle of town with a crowd gathered there. I am about eight to ten years old, and my father is holding my hand so I don’t get lost in the crowd. I’m curious to see what the people are gathering for.

There is a woman being tied to a post in front of everyone. Two men have a hold of her, and she is crying. There are people in the crowd shouting obscenities at her. I ask my dad what is going on. He tells me that she probably did something to hurt someone and is being punished. The men lit a fire around her, and smoke began to fill the air. My dad grabs me and tells me that this is not something for little girls to watch. We are walking away from the scene, but I keep looking back as the fire grows. The woman’s screams are echoing in my mind.

Wait, there's more...

I’m older now, a teenager. I’m tall and slender. I have brownish-blonde curly hair that is kept in a braid. I help my father with is business. He is a shoemaker. I also help my mother with chores. I am an only child. We live a simple life but we're happy. I know everyone around the village. I'm friends with a boy about my age. I’ve know him all my life. His name is Pierre, and he is my best friend. We love spending time together, and we can talk to each other about anything. Pierre’s father is a doctor, and is well-respected in our community. He is liked by the other villagers, and has a lot of influence.

Pierre’s father wants him to be a doctor as well. Pierre is being schooled, but I am unable to. The same educational opportunities available to boys are not available to girls. However, Pierre has been sharing with me the things he has learned. He is teaching me how to read and write. His father knows what is going on and he does not approve. He does not like me, and thinks that Pierre is wasting his time with me. He also thinks that Pierre is endangering himself because he thinks that I am just using him.

My parents don’t know why I am wasting my time with it. They believe that it is unimportant for me to be educated, and that all I really need to understand is shoes. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I like to learn. It is fun, and it makes me feel empowered.

More to come...;)
 
Thanks Truthseeker, I'm glad you agreed to share these memories :thumbsup: : very interesting, I'm looking forward to hearing more.
 
Thank you everyone.


I'll get more up as soon as I can. This week I am so overwhelmed with school work I don't have time to even think about it. Bear with me. ;)
 
More memories


Sorry it has taken a while to add to this thread, but here it is. The priest in the village was someone Caroline had a strained relationship with. I haven't been able to recall his name. I'm sure it started with an 'R' but it just hasn't come to me. I'm kinda frustrated about it, but for the sake of moving the story along, I will refer to him as Fr. Robert.


We’re in church. I don’t like going. The mass is in Latin and I don’t know what it means. I’m often not paying attention. Fr. Robert has caught me daydreaming again, and he is giving me a disapproving look. He preaching about God's wrath. Sometimes I wonder if what he’s telling us is the truth. Is he just trying to scare us into following God’s law? Later I ask him why God is so angry. He tells me it is because mankind has rebelled against God. I say that my family are just shoemakers. What have we done to rebel against God? Most of the people I know are the same. He replies that the mind of man is tempted by sin, and sin offends God. But didn’t Jesus die to forgive our sins? My words do not please him. He tells me that I ask too many questions. I don't think he likes me very much. I see Fr. Robert talking to Pierre’s father a lot. I think they talk about me sometimes. They express to each other their concerns. I don’t know what they’re worried about. I haven’t done anything to anyone.


...and more...


As Pierre and I get older, our responsibilities increase. We have less time to hang out together. His father wants to keep us apart anyway. When we do get together, we have our secret rendezvous spots. We’re more than just friends these days. Our relationship has become physical. One day Pierre’s younger brother catches us together, and tells his father what we were doing. I’ve never seen him so angry. This is the first time that he scared me. I'm afraid of what he might do.


Fr. Robert confronts me about Pierre’s father’s outrage. He tells me what a serious sin I have committed. I don’t understand how something natural and necessary to life can be such a serious sin, and our discussion becomes heated. Agreeing to disagree is not applicable to this situation. I’ll admit, I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut. Sometimes I just can’t help myself. After the reaction of Pierre’s father and Fr. Robert to what happened, I thought it was best I stayed away from them (and Pierre) for awhile. One night I was laying on my bed, and there was a knock on our front door. My mother answers and there were some men there who have come for me. I’m called to the door, and they arrest me. Fr. Robert has become ill, and I have been accused of practicing witchcraft. One man grabs me by the arm, and pulls me out the door with him.
 
Thanks again, Truthseeker. I have also been accused of witchcraft in a past life (several, actually), so I can relate.


Karoliina
 
Thanks for sharing your memories, Truthseeker, however frustrating they are. It was such a terrible time. So many awful things done in the name of good. Do you know what happened next?
 
I’ve been locked up for what seems like forever. Fr. Robert has died from his illness. They are charging me with murdering him. Others in the village have become sick as well. They think I have cast a spell, and that is what’s making them sick. Pierre’s father has accused me of manipulating his son with spells and tempting him into sin. When I was caught and confronted by Fr. Robert, I retaliated by using magic to make him sick. Now he has died, and Pierre’s father says magic has killed him. Who’s is going to disagree with a doctor on the cause of death. They are demanding I release the others from my spell, but I can’t undo what I haven’t done to begin with. These charges are absurd. These people have known me my whole life, and they know I wouldn’t harm anyone. Hopefully they will come to their senses.


The first time I saw this life in a regression, the trial is what I saw.


It is my trial. The rooms is filled with everyone from the village. I look at their faces. Some are angry, some are scared (some for me, others for their loved ones that are sick), some are curious as to what is going to happen. Pierre is there. He is sitting next to his father, but he won’t look at me. There is a lot of anger and fear in the room. People are saying things about me that aren’t true. Pierre’s father is the most outspoken. It hurts me. Tears are streaming down my face. I know these people, and I thought they were friends. None of this seems real. It all feels like a dream I can’t wake up from. I keep thinking this will blow over when the truth will comes out. Everything will go back to normal.


I’m standing before men I don’t know. One man is from the Church. He’s wearing a red robe with gold trim. He has a gray beard and piercing eyes. He looks like he’s staring right into my soul. It makes me very uncomfortable. There is another man sitting next to him. He’s well-dressed in black, and is reading what I assume is the charges against me. I finally looks up and begins to speak. He is very eloquent and well-educated. He is grilling me with many questions, and it seems like no matter what I say he twists it and turns it against me. I’ve grown increasing frustrated, and my fear has turned to anger. I lash back at the man for twisting my words. I tell him that he has already made up is mind about me, and he has no interest in knowing the truth. I also lash out at my accusers for being liars (in retrospect, this behavior probably wasn’t helping my cause). The man who is questioning me is expecting a confession from me. I’ve decided that nothing I say has helped or is going to help me in any way, so I’ve decided not to say another word. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe no one will stand up for me. Since I am now quiet (a rarity for me), they’ve decided they will have to find another way to get me to talk.
 
stardis said:
Does any of this recollection cause you fear in this life?
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This life has had some effects on my current life. I'll can answer this in more detail once I get the rest of my memories posted.
 
Truthseeker - You're a terrific storyteller. You write in such vivid detail and always end the tale right at a crucial point, like the end of a chapter, so readers will come back to hear the rest of the story. :thumbsup:
 
When I decided to post this story, I felt like there was something inside me just below the surface that needed to come out. I did a CD regression, and I was immediately taken to my torture. I'll try not to get too graphic in decribing it, but this is what came up. It was very intense. I squirmed in my chair, and felt all the anxieties as if it were happening all over again.


These men are vicious and crude. They seem to enjoy what they are doing. They tear off my clothes, and treat me like I’m less than human. They put me in a wooden chair. It has leather straps that go around my wrists and ankles to hold me down. They want me to confess my crimes, and release the sick from my spell. That is really hard for me to do since I didn’t make them sick to begin with. They started out by sticking sharp objects under my fingernails. The pain is unbearable, but it does not get them their desired outcome.


After seeing this I went on the internet to find some valiation of what I saw and found this: "Witch-hunters conducted this torture with rough wooden skewers dipped in boiling sulfur. A number of such skewers were slowly driven into the flesh under the prisoner's nails. When enough skewers had been driven home to pry each nail loose from its bed, the nail was torn out at the root with a pair of pliers."


They continue to ridicule me, and they call me degrading things. One of them is approaching with an iron that is glowing red on the end. He burns my chest with it, then burns me again. After the third time, I finally break. I’ll tell them anything they want to hear just to get them to stop. A confession probably means death, but if this continues, they will kill me in this room anyway.


More internet information: "When the men persecuting the accused witches found themselves sexually aroused, they assumed that such desire emanated, not from themselves, but from the woman. They attacked breasts and genitals with pincers, pliers and red-hot irons."


I am locked up again awaiting my execution. They are going to burn me. I want to cry, but I can’t. I just feel numb. I’ve heard about witches being burned. I even saw that woman burned years ago, but I assume they are guilty of something. What am I guilty of? None of this seems real. I want to escape, but I can’t find a way. Night is coming, and it’s getting cold. I have nothing in this cell to keep warm. I complained to someone about being cold. He sarcastically said that I’ll be plenty warm soon enough.


Morning comes and I am cold and hungry. My feet are bare and numb from the cold. I nearly froze to death in the night (I wish I would have). Then that dreaded moment comes. The door opens up. They have come for me. I’m scared. I have no idea what to expect. How painful will this be? How long will it take? Am I going to hell once I am dead? A few stray snowflakes are falling from the sky. A crowd has gathered, and I see so many people I know. Some of them look eager, others look helpless. I feel humiliated that everyone I know is here to watch this. This is how they will remember me. This is their lasting impression. I am tied to the post, and a priest says a final prayer. Then they light the pile of wood at various points around me….


I'm sure you can imagine what happens from this point on. I hope no one was expecting a happy ending. There was no handsome hero to rescue me from danger. :D Oddly, the biggest impression left on me from the fire was how difficult it was to breathe because of the smoke, and because the air was so hot. Maybe my subconscious has blocked the other details.
 
I don't have another life to tell about with this much detail, but I spent a lot of time on this one. I tell it, not because I want attention or want anyone to feel sorry for me, but to illustrate a historically significant time.


Doing an internet search for witch burnings in Lorraine, I came across information on a famous witch hunter from Lorraine in the late 1500's named Nicolas Remy. He openly bragged about having more than 900 witches burned in his career, all done with the Church's blessing. While reading about his man, I literally had a heavy feeling in my chest. I don't know if the man Caroline stood before while on trial was Remy. I don't think there is any way of knowing for sure.


To answer if all of this has had any effects on my current life, it has. I don't have any particular phobia of fire, but fire has served as a memory trigger for me for years. One thing that I think is of interest is my tolerance of pain is normal, I would say. However, I am the biggest baby when I comes to going to the doctor and getting a shot. Every year I refuse to get a flu shot, because I can't stand needles. I was thinking about it one day, and it's not the pain I can't tolerate. It's the anticipation of the pain I can't handle. I wonder if this is the result of being a torture victim. Also, I am creeped out anytime I see any breaking or trauma to fingernails. Just the thought of it makes my skin crawl. Another thing that makes me jump out of my skin is there are people today that are getting branded for body art. Branding used to be used as torture. Now people are doing it voluntarily. I can't even stand the thought of being burned by a hot piece of metal.


I would say the biggest thing for me from that life is I have a real sensitivity to any kind of judgement from religious authority. It really upsets me when someone threatens you with hell for not believing the way they believe. I go round-and-round with my mother on this. She is a strict by-the-book Catholic, and if I say anything that is contrary to Church teaching, she thinks I am being deceived by the devil. Caroline was fighting this battle over 400 years ago, and I'm still fighting it today.
 
Hi Truthseeker,

I was thinking about it one day, and it's not the pain I can't tolerate. It's the anticipation of the pain I can't handle. I wonder if this is the result of being a torture victim.
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That is very interesting to me, because you put into words what I'm dealing with too. I actually have a normal to high pain tolerance, but the anticipation of pain is horrid. I almost panic if I watch a movie that involves torture scenes, I can't even read about torture methods or look at pictures of torture instruments. I get extremely uncomfortable and just want to get away 'from the pain'. Does that make any sense?

Caroline was fighting this battle over 400 years ago, and I'm still fighting it today.
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This is a very sad fact.
 
Thanks very much for sharing your experience Truthseeker, and I'm sorry you had to go through all the torture and the not-so-pleasant aspects of that life again, the way you retold everything made me feel as if I were there reliving it all with you.

Truthseeker said:
It really upsets me when someone threatens you with hell for not believing the way they believe. I go round-and-round with my mother on this. She is a strict by-the-book Catholic, and if I say anything that is contrary to Church teaching, she thinks I am being deceived by the devil. Caroline was fighting this battle over 400 years ago, and I'm still fighting it today.
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Maybe your mother was there 400 years ago at your trial? ;)
 
Thanks for sharing the rest of the story. I too felt as if I was living it too while I was reading it. I also wondered if your mother was in that life too, since there's a difference of religious beliefs this time around.


I have always had a terrible fear of fire and always wondered if I was burned once too.
 
Thank you everyone for your comments, and for reading my story.

ChrisR said:
I'm sorry you had to go through all the torture and the not-so-pleasant aspects of that life again
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It's OK, I chose to do it. I wanted to know what happened. I'm glad that I'm in a postition to give a first-hand discription of a signifcant historical time.

Maybe your mother was there 400 years ago at your trial? ;)
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I didn't think about that, but it's possible. Some people have easily recognized current life aquintances in the past, but I have not had much success with this.


It has occured to me that I've kind of painted my mother has somewhat of a villain in this life. She's not. We have a very loving relationship, and I know she means well. We just don't always see eye-to-eye. She has a very narrow view of the world. Sometimes I play devil's advocate with her to open her mind to other points of view. So far I have had very little luck. :rolleyes:


I'm not an atheist. I do believe in God. I just don't see God in the traditional portrayal as a man with a white beard, sitting on a cloud, passing judgement on everyone who displeases him.
 
Truthseeker....thank you for sharing your memories. Your words brought to life a sad time in man's history. If we contemplate the number of people who suffered this kind of abuse and this type of persecution over the centuries...especially in the name of religion...we'd find the real evil that shadows mankind.


These memories returned to you for powerful reasons. I pray they strengthen and enlighten.


Tinkerman
 
Thanks also Truthseeker for sharing! You have a way with words and just the way you told the story. Wow!


Do also think that you have these memories for a reason. Wishing You the Best!
 
Thank you for you kind words everyone. :)


Yesterday I had a little free time and tried to do a little meditating. Caroline's experiences started coming up again. I started to 'feel' the burning and about jumped out of the chair. :o I then tried to move on to a different life. With all love and respect for Caroline, I think I need to let her rest for a while.
 
It’s been over a year since I posted this thread. In recent weeks I’ve learned some interesting facts that add to this story. I’ve been taking a class this semester that has covered European history from the end of the Dark Ages up through the French Revolution. We’ve covered some material this semester that has resonated and stirred emotions in me. A couple weeks ago we covered the witch burnings.


One of the things we had to do for class was read part of the Malleus Maleficarum or the Witches Hammer. This was a book written to be the handbook for hunting and prosecuting witches, and was used wide-spread. The vast majority of those that were prosecuted as witches were women. It was believed that human sexuality was the gateway to the Devil, and according to the Witches Hammer, libidinous women had fornicated with the Devil, thus paving their way to become witches. Women were said to be weaker in their faith, and most susceptible to their carnal desires. “All witchcraft comes from carnal lust, which is in women insatiable.” These women, who were in league with the Devil, would then tempt men into sins of the flesh. Feminine beauty was evil and women could not be trusted.


The reality was that most of the women accused as witches had strong personalities and were known to defy convention by overstepping the lines.


When I read all this it explained my story completely. I was a strong personality who would overstep the lines. When things turned for the worst for me was when it was found out that I had been fornicating with my friend. I can see where, at that point, they believed I had given into my own weakness, sold out to the Devil, and was now tempting a young man into sin.


It was also believed that witches were casting spells on others bringing them harm. After my personal relationship was known, they started accusing me of casting spells on those in the community who were getting sick and dying. They then had me arrested.


When I put together this thread, what I shared came to me over several meditations, and using the recorded regressions. I didn’t know if any of it was real or made up. If it came into my mind, I just went with it. I remembered being a young woman who was unmarried and still living with her parents. I tried to come up with a family name. What came to my mind was “Rousseau” or “Russo” or something like that. I was certain that it was the late 16th century in France. I believed it was in the area of Lorraine, and the year 1593 stuck in my mind. When I was executed, I’m pretty sure it was late in the year. I say that because it was cold, and I remember a very light snow falling. There wasn’t snow yet on the ground. It would have been an early snow flurry before winter set in.


Again, for all I know this was all made up in my mind. Then one night I was surfing on the internet. I found a website that had a list of witch burnings in France. I was scanning through a list of execution that took place in Lorraine in the late 16th century. I found one that was described as the daughter of a “Rosseau,” accused of witchcraft, executed on October 2, 1593. When I found this every hair on the back of my neck stood up. All the details of this brief description fit with what I remembered. I can’t say for sure that this woman was me, but it is quite a coincidence.


One more thing. The name was close, the year was right, and the date put it late in the year. One thing that still had me thinking was the snow. I’m no expert on French weather patterns, but October 2nd seemed like a little early for snow. It’s possible, but I’m thinking about where I live now. We have tough winters here. We’re now past Thanksgiving and we haven’t had our first snow fall yet. Then, I found in my class textbook where in said that in the last half of the 16th century Europe was going through a "mini ice age," in that there was a drop in average temperatures. If this was the case, there would be an early onset of winter, and it could be quite possible to have snow in early October.
 
I found one that was described as the daughter of a “Rosseau,” accused of witchcraft, executed on October 2, 1593. When I found this every hair on the back of my neck stood up. All the details of this brief description fit with what I remembered. I can’t say for sure that this woman was me, but it is quite a coincidence.
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WOW :eek: What an incredible validation!! I can only imagine what that must have felt like - I have personally spent many hours online trying to find validation of my past lives, so far without luck (except one ;) ). It must be an amazing feeling to actually have that proof. Thank you so much for sharing that!


I've done quite a lot of research on the 'The Little Ice Age', which lasted from ca. 1350-1850 AD, so if you have any questions about it, feel free to ask :) If you - or anyone else - want to read more about it I can highly recommend a book by Brian Fagan called 'The Little Ice Age - how climate made history' - it's a fascinating read.


:)


One thing I'm wondering...now that you've found such a strong validation of a past life how do you feel about it? Do you feel it's a closed chapter (now you have proof) or that it's just the beginning of researching that past life?
 
Thanks for the update Truthseeker :thumbsup:


Incredible that we used to burn women just for having a mind of their own!! And ironic that the men who burned them were most likely women themselves at some point in the past. I'm glad we've become more civilized in some areas since those times, although other areas still need a lot of work :rolleyes:
 
Sorry if this derails thread a little, but i'd rather not make a separate thread cuz my story isn't very interesting but if there's anything that may sound familiar or relate to the topic i'd be interested because i've also been doing a bit of research but didn't get very far...


my only vivid dream about 6 years ago, of a woman being burned at the stake. Started as a regular dream with minivans and modern dressed people walking around cobblestone streets, an archway and halftimbre houses. I think it must be a european city....


then it turned into a crowd of people dressed in medieval peasant clothes and the weird thing is that they were laughing and having fun, it kinda made me wonder why they are doing this(?). At this point the dream turned vivid, I saw a blonde woman dressed white robes, tied to a wooden post. I felt a big continuous blast of heat all along the front of my body/face, and in my dream I remember smelling the awful stench of Hair being burned. I look down from the woman and can see the wood being burned underneath her, isn't dry, I clearly see that it's fresh greenwood and there are a ton of branches and I see quite alot of green pine leaves sticking out.


At that point I woke up. I have no clue if the details add up to anything, especially in regards to green wood and pine being burned or dominent odor of burning hair at a witch execution. I have no idea what country it was in, or whether this is just my imagination but I know for sure though I wasn't the one being burned, and glad I was only sitting at the front row.
 
Sunniva:


It's been a little while since I found that website. It was before we covered the witches in my class. It just amazes me how the information that keeps coming up fits like a glove. I had to share this. It was too good not to. I've just had trouble finding the time to do so. To be honest, I can't believe what I found on that website. It's like it's too good to be true. I doubt I'll be doing any further investgating on it. I don't know how I can top this. It's not like I'm going to find her on facebook. :D I guess you could say that it is a closed chapter.


ChrisR:


It's hard to even comprehend the discrimination that women have endured in the past. They still have hurdles to get over today, but society has come a long way.


the fool:


That is an interesting dream. As detailed and as many senses as there was involved in that scene, there may very well be more involved than just imagination. Conservative estimates are of tens of thousands of women being burned across Europe during this period. That would make for a countless number of witnesses.
 
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