FURNITURE OMENS.
Folk-lore of the Looking-glass--Luck of
Edenhall--Clock-falling--Chairs--Beds--The Bellows.
The desire to gather omens from the various surrounding objects of
every-day life has naturally included articles of furniture; and
hence we find signs and portents attached to certain of these which
are implicitly credited by many, from the highest to the lowest, who,
notwithstanding, would consider themselves deeply insulted if the
idea of their being superstitious were only so much as hinted at by
some sceptical friend. Among the most common of these odd fancies
are those relating to the looking-glass. As a piece of furniture
this is most necessary, and its very importance is, perhaps, the
chief reason why superstition has invested it with those mysterious
qualities which certainly do not belong in the same ratio to chairs
and tables. A chair, however beautiful and costly in its manufacture,
may nevertheless be cruelly broken with perfect impunity; whereas, if
some wretched, dilapidated looking-glass is accidentally cracked, the
inmates of the house are thoroughly discomposed, from a conviction
that such an event is sure to be followed by misfortune of some kind
or other. In Cornwall, the supposed penalty for such an offence
is seven years of sorrow; and a Yorkshire proverb informs us that
this unfortunate occurrence entails "seven years' trouble, but no
want." It has also been said to foretell the speedy decease of the
master of the house; and in Scotland it is regarded as an infallible
sign that some member of the family will shortly die. It has been
suggested that this popular superstition dates very many years back,
and probably originated in the terror inspired by the destruction of
the reflected human image--an interesting illustration of how the
formation of certain ideas is often determined by mere analogy. A
similar style of thinking also underlies the mediæval necromancer's
practice of making a waxen image of his enemy, and shooting at it
with arrows in order to bring about his death.
The folk-lore, however, of the looking-glass does not end here;
for many consider it the height of ill-luck to see the new moon
reflected in a looking-glass or through a window-pane; and some
mothers studiously prevent their youngest child looking in one until
a year old. It is also associated with marriage and death. Thus, in
the South of England it is regarded as a bad omen for a bride on
her wedding morning to take a last peep in the glass when she is
completely dressed in her bridal attire, before starting for the
church. Hence very great care is generally taken to put on a glove
or some slight article of adornment after the final lingering and
reluctant look has been taken in the mirror. The idea is that any
young lady who is too fond of the looking-glass will be unfortunate
when married. This is by no means the only occasion on which
superstitious fancy interferes with the grown-up maiden's peeps into
the looking-glass. Thus, Swedish young ladies are afraid of looking
in the glass after dark, or by candle-light, lest by so doing they
should forfeit the goodwill of the other sex.
The practice of covering the looking-glass, or removing it from
the chamber of death, still prevails in some parts of England--the
notion being that "all vanity, all care for earthly beauty, are
over with the deceased." It has also been suggested that, as the
invisible world trenches closely upon the visible one in the chamber
of death, a superstitious dread is felt of some spiritual being
imaging himself forth in the blank surface of the mirror. Mr. Baring
Gould considers that the true reason for shrouding the looking-glass
before a funeral was that given him in Warwickshire, where there is a
popular notion that if a person looks into a mirror in the chamber of
death he will see the corpse looking over his shoulder. Again, Brand
informs us that looking-glasses were generally used by magicians "in
their superstitious and diabolical operations." He quotes an old
authority, who says:--"Some magicians, being curious to find out by
the help of a looking-glass, or a glass full of water, a thing that
lies hidden, make choice of young maids to discern therein those
images or sights which a person defiled cannot see." Sometimes, too,
our ancestors dipped a looking-glass into the water when they were
anxious to ascertain what would become of a sick person. Accordingly
as he looked well or ill in the glass, when covered with the drops
of water, so they foretold whether he would recover or not. Mirrors
were also regarded by our forefathers as the most effective agencies
in divining secrets and bringing to light hidden mysteries. Thus,
there is a tradition that the Gunpowder Plot was discovered by Dr.
John Dee with his magic mirror. We find in a prayer-book, printed by
Baskett in 1737, an engraving which depicts the following scene:--In
the centre is a circular looking-glass, in which is the reflection
of the Houses of Parliament by night, and a person entering carrying
a dark lantern. On the left side there are two men in the costume
of James's time looking into the mirror--one evidently the king,
the other probably Sir Kenelm Digby. On the right side, at the top,
is the eye of Providence darting a ray on to the mirror; and below
are some legs and hoofs, as if evil spirits were flying out of the
picture. This plate, says a correspondent of _Notes and Queries_,
"would seem to represent the method by which, under Providence (as
is evidenced by the eye), the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot was at
that time seriously believed to have been effected. The tradition,
moreover, must have been generally believed, or it never could have
found its way into a prayer-book printed by the king's printer." It
may be noted, however, that as the fame of Dee's magic mirror was
at its zenith about the time of the Gunpowder Plot, this may have
led to the mirror being adopted as a popular emblem of discovery,
or "throwing light" upon a subject. Hence it has been reasonably
suggested that the mirror in the print may simply be a piece of
artistic design, rather than evidence of its actual employment in the
discovery.
In days gone by, too, it appears to have been customary for both
sexes to wear small looking-glasses--a fantastic fashion much
ridiculed by Ben Jonson and others of his time. Men even wore them
in their hats--an allusion to which custom we find in Ben Jonson's
_Cynthia's Revels_ (Act ii., sc. 1): "Where is your page? Call for
your casting-bottle, and place your mirror in your hat as I told
you." We may infer that this was the very height of affectation by
the manner in which the remark is introduced. While men of fashion
wore mirrors as brooches or ornaments in their hats, ladies carried
them at their girdles or on their breasts. Thus Lovelace makes a lady
say:--
"My lively shade thou ever shalt retaine
In thy inclosed feather-framed glasse."
It was a popular superstition in former years that fine glass, such
as that of Venice, would break if poison were put into it. To this
curious notion Massinger thus gracefully alludes:--
"Here crystal glasses . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . This pure metal
So innocent is, and faithful to the mistress,
Or master, that possesses it, that rather
Than hold one drop that's venomous, of itself
It flies in pieces, and deludes the traitor."
This is among the errors noticed by Sir Thomas Browne, who says, "And
although it be said that poison will break a Venice glass, yet have
we not met with any of that nature. Were there a truth herein, it
were the best preservative for princes and persons exalted to such
fears, and surely far better than divers now in use." It may not be
inappropriate here to refer to the well-known tradition connected
with the "Luck of Edenhall." From time immemorial there has been a
current belief that any one who had the courage to rush upon a fairy
festival and snatch from the merry throng their drinking-glass, would
find it prove to him a constant source of good fortune, supposing he
could carry it across a running stream. A glass has been carefully
preserved at Edenhall, Cumberland, which was in all probability a
sacred chalice; but the legend is that the butler, one day going
to draw water, surprised a company of fairies who were amusing
themselves on the grass near the well. He seized the glass that was
standing upon its margin, which the fairies tried to recover, but,
after an ineffectual struggle, they vanished, crying:--
"If that glass do break or fall,
Farewell the luck of Edenhall."
The good fortune, however, of this ancient house was never so much
endangered as by the Duke of Wharton, who, on one occasion having
drunk the contents of this magic glass, inadvertently dropped it,
and here most assuredly would for ever have terminated the luck of
Edenhall, if the butler, who stood at his elbow to receive the empty
glass, had not happily caught it in his napkin.
Referring, however, more particularly to our subject, we find several
items of folk-lore associated with the clock. Thus, in the North
of England, there is a superstition called "Clock-falling," the
idea being that if a woman enters a house after her confinement,
and before being churched, the house-clock will immediately fall
on its face. So strong was this belief in years past that a woman
would never think of transgressing this rule under any circumstances
whatever. In some places the house-clock is stopped on the occasion
of a death, no doubt to remind the survivors that with the deceased
one time is over, and that henceforth the days and hours are no
longer of any account to him. A correspondent of _Notes and Queries_
informs us that he knew "an intelligent, well-informed gentleman in
Scotland who, among his last injunctions on his death-bed, ordered
that as soon as he expired the house-clock was to be stopped, a
command which was strictly obeyed." Aubrey also tells us that
formerly it was customary for people of a serious turn of mind to
say, every time they heard the clock strike, "Lord, grant my last
hour may be my best hour."
Chairs, again, have their superstitions. It is regarded as a bad
omen, for instance, if, when a person leaves a house, he replaces the
chair on which he has been sitting against the wall, the probability
being that he will never visit the house again. The chair on which a
woman sits after her confinement to receive the congratulations of
her friends is popularly termed "a groaning chair," an allusion to
which we find in "Poor Robin's Almanack":--
"For a nurse, the child to dandle,
Sugar, soap, spiced pots, and candle,
A groaning chair, and eke a cradle."
Another article of furniture not without its folk-lore is the bed.
Thus some superstitious persons always have their bedsteads placed
parallel to the planks of the floor, considering it unlucky to sleep
across the boards. Others again pay particular attention to the point
of the compass towards which the head should be when in bed, a belief
we find existing even among the Hindoos, who believe that to sleep
with the head to the north will cause one's days to be shortened.
To lie in the direction of the south they say is productive of
longevity, whereas the east and west, it is asserted, are calculated
to bring riches and change of scene respectively. Various theories in
this country have been, at different times, started as to the proper
position of the bedstead during the hours of sleep, which find ready
acceptance among those who are ever ready to grasp any new idea,
however fanciful it may be. A correspondent of _The Builder_, writing
on the subject, says:--"So far as my own observations have gone, I
know that my sleep is always more sound when my head is placed to the
north. There are persons whom I know, the head of whose bed is to the
north, and who, to awake early, will reverse their usual position
in the bed, but without knowing the reason why, beyond 'that they
could always wake earlier,' the sleep being more broken." An eminent
physician in Scotland states that, when he failed by every other
prescription to bring sleep to invalid children, he recommended their
couches or little beds to be turned due north and south--the head
of the child being placed towards the north--a process which he had
always found successful in promoting sleep. After all, however, as
has been so often said, the best prescription for a good night's rest
is a healthy body and a sound mind.
The well-known phrase, "to get out of bed the wrong way," or "with
the left leg foremost," is generally said of an ill-tempered person;
the term having originated in an ancient superstition, which
regarded it as unlucky to place the left foot first on the ground on
getting out of bed.
Once more, as a mark of the simplicity of ancient manners, it was
customary for persons even of the highest rank to sleep together, an
allusion to which practice occurs in _Henry V._, where Exeter says:--
"Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,
Whom he hath cloy'd and grac'd with kingly favours."
In conclusion, we may take one further illustration on this subject
from that useful little article, the bellows, to place which on a
table is considered extremely unlucky, and few servants will either
do it or allow it to be done.