circle, which appears in various forms through the whole range
of folk-lore. The idea is that no evil spirit can cross the sacred
line. Thus, in Mirzapur they make a circle of grain round the circular
pile of corn on the threshing-floor to guard it from evil. Among some
castes the circle round which the bride and bridegroom revolve at
marriage is guarded by a circular line of string hung on the necks
of a number of water-pots surrounding it. We have seen how the Baiga
perambulates his village and drops a line of spirits round the boundary
to repel foreign ghosts. This accounts for the stone circles which
are found both in Europe and in India, and in Ireland are considered
to be the resort of the fairies. [107]
We have constant references to the same custom in the
folk-tales. Lakshmana, in the Râmâyana, draws such a circle round
Sîtâ when he is obliged to leave her alone. We have many references
to the circle within which the ascetic or magician sits when he is
performing his sorceries. Thus, in the story of Nischayadatta, the
ascetics "quickly made a great circle with ashes, and entering into
it, they lighted a fire with fuel, and all remained there muttering
a charm to protect themselves." In the tales of the Vetâla, we find
the mendicant under a banyan tree engaged in making a circle, and
Ksantisila makes a circle of the yellow powder of bones, the ground
within which was smeared with blood, and which had pitchers of blood
placed in the direction of the cardinal points. [108]
The same idea appears in the magic circle used as an ordeal, or to
compel payment of a debt. Thus, we read in Marco Polo: [109] "If a
debtor have been several times asked by his creditor for payment
and shall have put him off day by day with promises, then if the
creditor once meet the debtor and succeed in drawing a circle round
him, the latter must not pass out of this circle until he shall have
satisfied the claim, or given security for its discharge. If he in
any other case presume to pass the circle, he is punished with death,
as a transgressor against right and justice." In Northern India this
circle is known as a Gururu or Gaurua, and a person who takes an oath
stands within it, or takes from inside an article which he claims. In
one form of this ceremony the circle is made on the ground with calf's
dung by an unmarried girl, and in the centre is placed a vessel of
water. If money is in dispute, the amount claimed is placed in the
water vessel by the defendant. The narrator tells a story to prove
the efficacy of the rite:--
"My father owed a Kalwâr one rupee and the Kalwâr claimed five. The
matter was brought before the tribal council, and the Kalwâr swore to
the five rupees upon the Gaurua. Within an hour his boy, while playing
behind the house, was carried off by a wolf. He was rescued, but he was
under the curse of the Gaurua, and shortly after he put his finger into
a rat hole, was bitten by a snake, and died within the hour." [110]
The Ring, Bracelet, and Knotted Cord.
From the same principle arises the belief in the magic virtue of the
ring, the bracelet, and the knotted cord.
To begin with rings--we have in Plato the story of Gyges, who by
means of the ring of invisibility introduced himself to the wife of
Candaules, King of Lycia, murdered the latter and got possession of
his kingdom. This is like the cloak or cap which appears so constantly
in folk-lore. In the Indian tales invisibility is generally obtained
by means of a magic ointment, to which there are many parallels
in Western stories. We find also the magic ring, which, like that
of Ala-ud-dîn, when touched procures the presence and aid of the
demons. A woman's nose-ring in India has special respect paid to it,
and for a stranger even to mention it is a breach of delicacy. [111]
It is the symbol of married happiness, and is removed when the wearer
becomes a widow. Among Muhammadans, Shiah women remove their nose-rings
during the Muharram as a sign of mourning. There was an old habit in
England of marrying by the rush ring, "but it was chiefly practised
by designing men, for the purpose of debauching their mistresses, who
sometimes were so infatuated as to believe that this mock ceremony
was a real marriage." [112] In the same way in India a ring of
Kusa grass is put on the finger during the most sacred rites and at
marriage. The custom appears in the folk-tales. The ring represents
an imperishable bond between the giver and the receiver, and is a
symbol of the original blood covenant, which is an important element
in the belief of all primitive people. [113]
The idea of the magic ring constantly appears in folk-lore. Thus,
we have the ring placed in a sacred square and sprinkled with
butter-milk, which immediately gives whatever the owner demands. In
one of the Kashmîr tales the merchant's son speaks to the magic ring,
and immediately a beautiful house and a lovely woman with golden hair
appeared. [114] So, in the tales of Somadeva, Sridatta places a ring
on the finger of the unconscious princess and she immediately revives;
the disloyal wife here, as in the "Arabian Nights," takes a ring from
each of her lovers as a token. [115]
The same idea attaches to the bracelet, which is in close connection
with the soul of the wearer. Such is the Chandanhâr or sandal-wood
necklace of Chandan Râja, and Sodewa Bâî is born with a golden
necklace round her neck, concerning which her parents consulted the
astrologers. They announced, "This is no common child; the necklace of
gold about your daughter's neck contains your daughter's soul. Let it,
therefore, be guarded with the utmost care; for if it were taken off
and worn by another person, she would die." [116] The same idea appears
in the Kashmîr tales, where Panj Phûl refuses to give up her necklace,
as "it contains the secret of her life, and was a charm to her against
all dangers, sickness and trials; deprived of it she might become sick
and miserable, or be taken away from them and die." [117] All this is
based on the conception of the external soul, to which reference has
been already made. The Mâls of Bîrbhûm exchange necklaces at marriages,
and the Princess Kalingasenâ wears a bracelet and necklace of lotus
fibre to secure relief from the pains of love. [118]
The same idea shows itself in the use of strings and knots. In Northern
India a piece of bat's bone is tied round the ankle as a remedy for
rheumatism, and answers to the eel-skin, which is used for the same
purpose in Europe. [119] In the Shetland Islands, to cure a sprain,
a thread of black wool with nine knots is tied on the injured place
with a metrical spell. [120] An Italian charm says: "Take from a live
hare the ankle bone, remove the hair from his belly, from the hair
make a thread, and with it tie the bone to the body of the sufferer,
and you will see a wonderful cure." [121] In Ireland a strand of
black wool is tied round the ankle, and a charm is recited to cure
a sprain; a red string is tied round a child's neck in chincough
and epilepsy. [122] In Hoshangâbâd a thread is tied round the ankle
as a remedy in fever. If possible, a bit of Ashtara root should be
fastened in the knot, and before tying it an oblation of butter is
burnt before it. [123] Similarly, a peacock's feather tied on the
ankle cures a wound. In the Panjâb, it is a charm against snake-bite to
smoke one of the tail feathers of the peacock in a tobacco pipe. [124]
The Râjput father binds round the arm of his new-born infant a root
of that species of grass known as the Amardûb or "imperishable" Dûb,
well known for its nutritive qualities and luxuriant vegetation,
in the same way as Scotch women wear round their necks blue woollen
threads or small cords till they wean their children. [125] We have
already noticed the efficacy of various grasses as spirit scarers.
Lastly, the cord itself has powers in folk-lore, and we meet with
the magic cord, which, tied round the neck of the hero by a witch,
makes him turn into a ram or an ape. [126]
The belief in the efficacy of the magic circle accounts for a variety
of other customs. Thus, in a family sacrifice among the Chakmas of
Bengal, round the whole sacrificial platform had been run, from the
house mother's distaff, a long white thread which encircled the altar,
and then carried into the house, was held at the two ends by the good
man's wife. Among the Hâris, at marriages, the right hand little
finger of the bridegroom's sister's husband is pierced, and a few
drops of blood allowed to fall on threads of jute, which are rolled
up in a tiny pellet. This the bridegroom holds in his hand, while the
bride attempts to snatch it from him. Her success in the attempt is
considered to be a good omen of the happiness of the marriage. [127]
Here we have a survival of descent in the female line, the blood
covenant, and the magic influence of the cord all combined.
Connected with this is the belief in the forming a connection by
knotting the magic string. We have the European true love-knot, an
emblem of fidelity between the pair betrothed. So in Italy interlaced
serpents and all kinds of interweaving, braiding, and interlacing
cords are valuable as protectives because they attract the eyes of
witches. [128] Thus, among the Kârans of Bengal, the essential part of
the marriage ceremony is believed to be the laying of the bride's right
hand in that of the bridegroom, and binding their two hands together
with a piece of string spun in a special way. [129] This belief in the
mystic power of knots is common in all folk-lore. [130] The clothes of
the bride and bridegroom in Upper India are knotted together as they
revolve round the sacred fire. A similar belief explains the wearing
of the Janeû or sacred thread by high-caste Hindus. The knots on it,
known as Brahma-granthi, or "the knots of the Creator," repel evil
influences, and Muhammadans on their birthdays tie knots in a cord,
which is known as the Sâlgirah or "year knot."
Face-covering.
Another device to avoid fascination or other dangerous influence is to
cover the face so as to prevent the evil glance reaching the victim for
whom it is intended. Thus, at widow marriages in Northern India, the
bride and bridegroom are covered with a sheet during the rite, probably
in order to avert the envious or malignant influence of the spirit
of the woman's first husband. It is in secret that the bridegroom
marks the parting of the bride's hair with vermilion. So in Bombay,
[131] the Chitpâwan bride in one part of the wedding service has her
head covered with a piece of broadcloth. The Ramoshis tie the ends
of the bride's and bridegroom's robes to a cloth which four men of
the family hold over them. The Dhors of Pûna put a face-cloth on the
dead, which is a general practice all over the world. The same belief
is almost certainly at the root of much of the customs of Pardah and
the seclusion of women. It is as much through fear of fascination as
modesty that women draw their sheet across the face when they meet a
stranger in the streets. We come across the same feeling in the rule by
which all doors were closed when the princess in the "Arabian Nights"
went to the bath, and when not long ago the Mikado of Japan and other
Eastern potentates took their walks abroad. We thus reach by another
route the cycle of Godiva legends. [132]
Omens.
Closely connected with the class of ideas which we have been discussing
is the belief in omens. This constitutes a very important branch
of folk-lore both in the West and in the East. The success of a
journey or enterprise is believed in a great measure to depend on the
object which was first seen in the morning, or observed on the road
at an early period of the march. Thus, according to Theophrastus,
"The superstitious man, if a weasel run across his path, will not
pursue his walk until some one else has traversed the road, or until
he has thrown three stones across it." And Sir Thomas Brown writes:
"If an hare cross the highway, there are few above threescore years
that are not perplexed thereat, which, notwithstanding, is but an
augurial terror according to that received expression, Inauspicatum
dat iter oblatus lepus. And the ground of the conceit was probably
no greater than this, that a fearful animal passing by us portended
unto us something to be feared; as upon the like consideration,
the meeting of a fox presaged some future imposture."
Tulasi Dâs, in his Râmâyana, sums up the favourable omens:--
"On the left-hand side a blue-necked jay was picking up food, as if
to announce the very highest good fortune; on a fair field on the
right were a crow and a mungoose in the sight of all; a woman was
seen with a pitcher and a child; a fox showed himself winding about;
and in front a cow was suckling its calf; a herd of deer came out on
the right; a Brâhmanî kite promised all success; also a Syâma bird
perched on a tree to the left; a man was met bearing curds, and two
learned Brâhmans with books in their hands." [133]
The face of a Teli or oilman, perhaps from the dirt which accompanies
his business, is about the worst which can be seen in the early
morning; but, with the curious inconsistency which crops up everywhere
in phases of similar belief, that of a sweeper is lucky. His face
should be always looked at first, but on meeting a Brâhman, the glance
should start from his feet.
The Thags, like all criminal tribes of the present day, were great
believers in what Dr. Tylor calls Angang or meeting omens. [134] With
them, if a wolf crossed the path from right to left it was considered
a bad omen; if from right to left the import was uncertain. The
call of the wolf was considered ominous; if heard during the day,
the gang had immediately to leave the neighbourhood. The same idea
attached to a crow sitting silent on a tree, which is curiously in
contradistinction to the Roman belief--Saepe sinistra cavâ praedixit
ab ilice cornix. It was also considered very unlucky if a member of
the gang had his turban knocked off by accidentally touching a branch.
The jungle tribes have a strong belief in such omens. The Korwas of
Mirzapur abandon a journey if a jackal cross the road from the left,
or if a little bird, known as the Suiya or small parrot, calls in the
same direction. The Patâris and Majhwârs return if the Nîlgâê cross
the road from the right.
All natives have more or less the same feeling, and scientific
treatises have been written on the subject. Mentioning a monkey in
the morning brings starvation for the rest of the day; though looking
on its face is considered lucky. Hence monkeys are commonly tied in
stables to protect horses, and an old adage says that "the evil of the
stable is on the monkey's head." So, in Morocco the wealthy Moors keep
a wild boar in their stables, in order that the Jinn and evil spirits
may be diverted from the horses and enter into the boar. [135] For the
same reason an English groom is fond of keeping a cat near his horses.
If a dog flaps its ears and shakes its head while any business is
going on, disaster is sure to follow, and people careful in such
matters will stop the work if they can. The baying of a dog indicates
death and misfortune, an idea common in British folk-lore. [136]
The time when screech-owls cry and lean dogs howl,
And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves.
Even the little house lizard is, like his kinsfolk, the "murdering
basilisks, their softest touch as smart as lizard's stings," considered
by the Bengâlis very unlucky, and when they hear its twittering they
postpone a journey. [137]
The hare is always a bad omen. He is a god among the Kalmucs, who
call him Sakya Muni, or the Buddha, and say that on earth he allowed
himself to be eaten by a starving man, for which gracious act he was
raised to domineer over the moon, where they profess to see him. There
are traces of the same idea in Upper India. [138] The sites of many
cities are said to have been founded where a hare crossed the path
of the first settler. The hare is detested by the agricultural and
fishing population of the Hebrides, and it is one of the ordinary
disguises of the witch in European folk-lore. [139]
Black is, of course, unlucky, and if a man, when digging the
foundations of a new house, turns up a piece of charcoal, it is
advisable to change the site.
Owls are naturally of evil omen. Even the stout-hearted Zâlim Sinh,
the famous regent of Kota, abandoned his house because an owl hooted
on the roof. [140] The hooting of the owl is a sign that the bird
means to leave the place, and wise people would do well to follow his
example. One kind of owl, the Raghui Chiraiya, learns people's names,
and if any one by chance answer his call he is sure to die.
To see a Dhobi, or washerman, who is associated with foul raiment,
is exceedingly dangerous. I once had a bearer who was sadly afflicted
because on tour he had to sleep in the same tent with a Dhobi. The
old man was constantly bruising his shins over the ropes and pegs,
because he was in the habit of stumbling out before dawn with his
hands pressed over his eyes to protect himself from the sight of his
ill-omened companion.
A one-eyed man is, as we have already said, very unlucky. When Jaswant
Râo Holkar lost one of his eyes, he said, "I was before bad enough;
but now I shall be the Guru, or preceptor, of rogues." [141] I once
had an office clerk afflicted in this way, and his colleagues refused
to sit in the same room with him, because their accounts always went
wrong when he looked in their direction. When it was impossible to
provide any other accommodation for him, they insisted that he should
cover the obnoxious organ with a handkerchief when he had to work in
their neighbourhood.
One of the last of the Anglo-Indians, who had become thoroughly
orientalized, used to insist on his valet, when he came to wake him,
holding in his hand a tray containing some milk and a gold coin,
so that his first glance on waking might fall on these lucky articles.
Numbers.
There are mystic qualities attached to numbers. Thus, when Hindus
have removed the ashes from a burning ground they write the figures
49 on the spot where the corpse was cremated. The Pandits explain
this by saying that when written in Hindi the figures resemble the
conch-shell and wheel of Vishnu, or that it is an invocation to the
forty-nine winds of heaven to come and purify the ground. It is more
probably based on the idea that the number seven, as is the case all
over the world, has some mystic application. So in the folk-tales
the number three has a special application to the tests of the hero
who endures the assaults of demons or witches for three successive
nights. The idea of luck in odd numbers is universal, and the seventh
son of a seventh son is gifted with powers of healing.
Bodily Functions.
The functions of the body supply many omens. Thus, in Somadeva we read:
"My right eye throbbed frequently, as if with joy, and told me that
it was none other than she." [142]
"When our cheek burns, or ear tingles, we usually say some one is
talking of us," writes Sir Thomas Brown, "a conceit of great antiquity,
and ranked among superstitious opinions by Pliny. He supposes it to
have proceeded from the notion of a signifying Genius, or Universal
Mercury, that conducted sounds to their distant subjects, and taught
to hear by touch." The number of beliefs of this class is infinite
and recorded in numerous popular handbooks.
Lucky and Unlucky Days.
So, there are days which are lucky and unlucky. A Persian couplet
lays down that one should not go east on Saturday and Monday;
west on Friday and Sunday; north on Tuesday and Wednesday; south
on Thursday. Even Lord Burghley advised his son to be cautious as
regards the first Monday in April, when Cain was born and Abel slain;
the second Monday in August, when Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed;
the last Monday in December, which was the birthday of Judas. Akbar
laid down that the clothes which came into his wardrobe on the first
day of the month Farwardîn were unlucky. [143] The way some people get
over omens of this kind is to send some article ahead of the traveller
on the unlucky day, which absorbs the ill omen, which would otherwise
have fallen upon him.
The catalogue of superstitions of this class might be almost
indefinitely extended. The principles on which most of them depend are
clear enough. They rest on a sort of sympathetic magic. Things which
are good-looking, people who are healthy or prosperous, give favourable
omens, while those that are ugly, or of low caste, or associated with
menial or unpleasant duties, and so on, are ominous. Europeans in
India usually quite fail to realize the influence which such ideas
exercise over the minds of the people. Most of us have been struck
by the almost unaccountable failure of natives to attend a summons
from the Courts, to keep an appointment to meet a European officer
for the inspection of a school or market. If inquiries are made it
will often be found that some idea of this kind explains the matter.
Thus, Colonel Tod describes how he had a visit from Mânik Chand. "He
looked very disconsolate and explained that he had seven times left
his tent and as often turned back, the bird of omen having each time
passed him on the adverse side; but that at length he had determined
to disregard it, as having forfeited confidence he was indifferent
to the future." [144]
The same idea of good or evil omen attaches to many places and
persons. "Nolai was built by Râja Nol. Its modern appellation of
Barnagar has its origin in a strange, vulgar superstition of names of
ill omen, which must not be pronounced before the morning meal. The
city is called either Nolai or Barnagar, according to the hour at
which the mention becomes necessary." [145] So with the town of Jammu
in Kashmîr, which is unlucky from its association with Yama, the god of
death; with Talwâra in the Hoshyârpur District, which is connected with
the sword (talwâr); with Rohtak, which should be called Rustajgarh,
and with numerous other places in Northern India. Thus, if people want
to speak of Bulandshahr in the morning they call it by the old Hindi
name of Unchgânw; Bhongânw in Mainpuri they call Pachkosa; Nânauta in
Sahâranpur, Phûtashahr; Mandwa in Fatehpur, Rotiwâla, and so on. [146]
So, there is hardly a village in which it is not considered ominous
to name before breakfast some one who, from his misery, rascality,
or some other reason, is considered unlucky. In Mathura there is a
tank built by Râja Patni Mall.
"Should a stranger visit it in the morning and inquire of any Hindu
by whom it was constructed, he will have considerable difficulty in
eliciting a straightforward answer. The Râja, it is said, was of such
a delicate constitution that he could never at any time take more than
a few morsels of the simplest food; hence arises the belief that any
one who mentions him the first thing in the morning will, like him,
have to pass the day fasting." [147] When we wonder at people suffering
bondage of this kind, we must not forget that similar beliefs prevail
in our own country. "In Buckie there are certain family names which
no fisherman will pronounce. The ban lies particularly heavy on
Ross. Coull also bears it, but not to such a degree. The folks of
that village talk of spitting out the bad name." [148]
A similar euphemistic form of expression is often used in regard to
animals. If you are civil and do not abuse the house rats, they will
not damage your goods. [149]
The Mirzapur Patâris when they have to mention a monkey in the morning,
call him Hanumân, and the bear Jatari, or "he with the long hair,"
or Dîmkhauiya, "he that eats white ants." The Pankas call the camel
Lambghîncha or "long-necked." "I asked the Râja," says Gen. Sleeman,
"whether we were likely to fall in with any hares, making use of
the term Khargosh, or 'ass-eared.'" "Certainly not," said the Râja,
"if you begin by abusing them by such a name. Call them Lambkanna or
'long-eared,' and you will get plenty."
It is, of course, easy to avoid the effect of evil omens by the use
of a little tact and wit, as was the case with William the Conqueror,
and there are many natives who are noted for their cleverness in this
way. Of an Eastern Sultân it is told that, leaving his palace on a
warlike expedition, his standard touched a cluster of lamps, called
Surayya, because they resembled the Pleiades. He would have turned
back, but one of his officers said, "My Lord! our standard has reached
the Pleiades;" so he was relieved, advanced, and was victorious.
Facilitating Departure of and Barring the Ghost.
We now come to consider the various means adopted to facilitate the
journey of the departing soul, and to prevent it from returning as
a malignant ghost to bring trouble, disease, or death on the survivors.
First comes the custom of placing the dying man on the ground at the
moment of dissolution. This is done partly, as we have seen, through
some feeling of the sanctity of Mother earth and that anyone resting
on her bosom is safe from demoniacal agency, and partly that the spirit
may meet with no obstruction in its passage through the air. This last
idea prevails very generally. Thus, in Great Britain, death is believed
to be retarded and the dying person kept in a state of suffering by
having any lock closed or any bolt shut in the dwelling. [150]
The tortures which the soul undergoes in its journey to the land of
the dead are vividly pictured in some of the sacred writings. [151]
He is scorched by heat and pierced by wind and cold, attacked by
beasts of prey, stumbling through thorns and filth, until he at
last reaches the dread river Vaitaranî, which rolls its flood of
abominations between him and the other shore. So, when a Hindu dies,
a lamp made of flour is placed in his hands to light his ghost to
the realm of Yama. Devout people believe that the spirit takes three
hundred and sixty days to accomplish the journey, so an offering of
that number of lamps is made. In order, also, to help him on his way,
they feed a Brâhman every day for a year; if the deceased was a woman,
a Brâhmanî is fed. The lamps are lighted facing the south, and this
is the only occasion on which this is done, because the south is
the realm of death, and no one will sleep or have their house door
opening towards that ill-omened quarter of the sky.
With the same intention of aiding the spirit on his way, the relations
howl during the funeral rites, like the keeners at an Irish wake,
in order to scare the evil spirits who would obstruct the passage of
the soul to its final rest. [152]
Another plan is to carry out the corpse by a special way, which is then
barred up, so that it may not be able to find its way back. The same
end is attained by carrying out the corpse feet foremost. Thus Marco
Polo writes: "Sometimes their sorcerers shall tell them that it is not
good luck to carry the corpse out by the door, so they have to break a
hole in the wall, and to draw it out that way when it is taken to the
burning." It is needless to say that the same custom prevails in Great
Britain. [153] The Banjâras of Khândesh reverse the process. They move
their huts after a death, and make a special entrance instead of the
ordinary door, which is supposed to be polluted by the passage of the
spirit of the dead. [154] A somewhat similar custom prevails among the
Maghs of Bengal. When the friends return from the cremation ground,
if it is the master of the house who has died, the ladder leading
up to the house is thrown down, and they must effect an entrance
by cutting a hole in the back wall and so creeping up. [155] The
theory appears to be that the evil spirits who were on the watch
for the ghost may be lurking near the route by which the corpse was
removed. We have the same idea in the European custom of saluting a
corpse which is being carried past. Grose distinctly states that the
homage was really offered to the attendant evil spirits. [156] So,
the Birhors of Bengal, on the sixth day after birth, take the child
out of the house by an opening made in the wall, so as to evade the
evil spirit on the watch at the door. [157]
The most elaborate precautions are, however, devoted to barring out the
ghost and preventing its return to its former home. The first of these
consist of rules to prevent the breach of the curiosity taboo. All
through folk-lore we have instances of the danger of looking back,
as in the case of Lot's wife. One of the maxims of Pythagoras was:
"On setting out on a journey, do not return back; for if you do
the fairies will catch you." [158] In one of the Kashmîr tales the
youth is warned not to look back, otherwise he would be changed into
a pillar of stone. [159] In one of the Italian spells the officiant
is told: "Spit behind you thrice and look not behind you." [160] In
an Indian tale the god promises to help the Brâhman and to follow
him. The Brâhman looks back and the deity becomes a stone. [161]
The danger of looking back is that the person's soul may be detained
among the ghosts of the dead. This is the reason why Hindu mourners
do not look back when they are returning from the cremation ground,
and so we find that in Naxos it is a rule that none of the women who
follow the bier must look back, for if she do she will die on the spot,
or else one of her relations will die. [162]
Another means is to bar the return of the ghost in a physical
way. Thus, when the Aheriyas of the North-Western Provinces burn the
corpse, they fling pebbles in the direction of the pyre to prevent the
spirit accompanying them. In the Himâlayas, when a man has attended the
funeral ceremonies of a relative, he takes a piece of the shroud worn
by the deceased and hangs it on some tree in the cremation ground,
as an offering to the spirits which frequent such places. On his
return, he places a thorny bush on the road wherever it is crossed
by another path, and the nearest male relative of the deceased, on
seeing this, puts a stone on it, and pressing it down with his feet,
prays the spirit of the dead man not to trouble him. [163] Among
the Bengal Limbus, the Phedangma attends the funeral, and delivers a
brief address to the departed spirit on the general doom of mankind
and the succession of life and death, concluding with the command to
go where his fathers have gone, and not to come back to trouble the
living with dreams. [164]
Practically the same custom still prevails in Ireland. When a corpse
is carried to the grave, it is the rule for the bearers to stop
half-way while the nearest relatives build up a small monument of
loose stones, and no hand would dare to disturb this monument while
the world lasts. [165]
In the case of the Dhângars and Basors, both menial tribes in the
North-Western Provinces, we come across an usage which appears to
be of a very primitive type and to be intended to secure the same
object of barring the return of the ghost. After they have buried
the corpse they return to the house of the dead man, kill a hog, and
after separating the limbs, which are cooked for the funeral feast,
they bury the trunk in the courtyard of the house, making an invocation
to it as the representative of the dead man, and ordering him to rest
there in peace and not worry his descendants. In the grave in which
they bury this they pile stones and thorns to keep the ghost down.
Many other mourning customs appear to be based on the same
principle. Thus, the old ritual directs that all who return from a
funeral must touch the Lingam, fire, cowdung, a grain of barley, a
grain of sesame and water--"all," as Professor De Gubernatis says,
"symbols of that fecundity which the contact with a corpse might
have destroyed." [166] The real motive is doubtless to get rid of
the ghost, which may have accompanied the mourners from the cremation
ground. In Borneo rice is sprinkled over them with the same object,
and the Basutos who have carried a corpse to the grave have their
hands scratched with a knife and magic stuff is rubbed into the wound
to remove the ghost which may be adhering to them. [167]
In Upper India, among the lower Hindu castes, when the mourners return
after the ceremony, they bathe, water being a scarer of ghosts,
and at the house door they touch a stone, cowdung, iron, fire, and
water, which have been placed outside the house in readiness when
the corpse was removed. They then touch each their left ears with
the little finger of the left hand, chew leaves of the bitter Nîm
tree as a sign of mourning, and, after sitting some time in silence,
disperse. Others, as the Ghasiyas, pass their feet through the smoke
of burning oil, and others merely rub their feet with oil to drive
away the ghost. The same idea of barring the return of the ghost by
means of fire is found among the Nats of Kâthiâwâr, who burn hay on
the face of the corpse before cremating it, and among the Thoris,
who brand the great toe of the right foot of the deceased. [168]
This sitting in silence after the funeral is commonly explained merely
as a mark of sympathy for the bereaved relatives, but an analogous
custom in Ireland leads to the inference that the real reason may be
to give the ghost time to depart, and not to interrupt in any way its
progress to the spirit land. On the west coast of Ireland, after the
death no wail is allowed to be raised until three hours have elapsed,
because the sound of the crying would hinder the soul from speaking
to God when it stands before Him, and would waken up the great dogs
that are watching for the souls of the dead to devour them. [169]
We have in these rites and in the ordinary ritual some further
illustrations of the protective influence of various articles which
scare evil spirits. Thus, after the cremation the officiating Brâhman
touches fire and bathes in order to purify himself and bar the return
of the ghost; and the relative who lights the funeral pyre keeps a
piece of iron with him, and goes about with a brass drinking vessel
in his hand as a preservative against evil spirits while the period
of mourning lasts. The system of protection is exactly the same
as in the case of the young mother and her child during the period
of impurity consequent on parturition. As the Hedley Kow, the North
British goblin, is peculiarly obnoxious at childbirth, so the Râkshasî
of Indian folk-lore carries off the baby if the suitable precautions
to repel her are neglected. [170]
Another method of barring the ghost is to bury the dead face
downwards. This is common among sweepers of Upper India, whose ghosts,
as seen in the probable connection of the Chûhra and the Churel,
are always malignant. The same custom prevails among the Châran
Banjâras of Khândesh. With this may be contrasted the Irish custom
of loosening the nails of the coffin before interment, in order to
facilitate the passage of the soul to heaven. [171]
A more elaborate ritual is that performed by the Mangars of
Bengal. "One of the maternal relatives of the deceased, usually the
maternal uncle, is chosen to act as priest for the occasion, and to
conduct the ritual for the propitiation of the dead. First of all he
puts in the mouth of the corpse some silver coins and some coral,
which is much prized by the Himâlayan races. Then he lights a wick
soaked in clarified butter, touches the lips with fire, scatters
some parched rice about the mouth, and, lastly, covers the face with
a cloth. Two bits of wood about three feet long are set up on either
side of the grave. In the one are cut nine steps or notches, forming
a ladder for the spirit of the dead to ascend to heaven; on the other
every one present at the funeral cuts a notch to show that he has
been there. As the maternal uncle steps out of the grave, he bids a
solemn farewell to the dead and calls upon him to ascend to heaven
by the ladder prepared for him. When the earth has been filled in,
the stick notched by the funeral party is taken away to a distance
and broken in two pieces, lest by its means the dead man should do
the survivors a mischief. The pole used to carry the corpse is also
broken up, and the spades and ropes are left in the grave." [172]
Among other devices to bar the return of the spirit may be noted the
custom after a death in the family of preparing a resting-place for
the ghost, until on the completion of the prescribed funeral rites it
is admitted to the company of the sainted dead. Thus, among high-caste
Hindus a jar of water is hung on a Pîpal tree for the refreshment of
the spirit. The lower castes practise a more elaborate ritual. When
the obsequies are completed they plant by the bank of a tank a bunch
of grass, which the chief mourners daily water until the funeral rites
are over. In Bombay Mr. Campbell writes: [173] "With a few exceptions
generally among almost all classes of Hindus, when the dead is carried
to the burning ground, on nearing the cemetery, a small stone is picked
up and applied to the eyes, chest, and feet of the deceased. This
stone is called Jivkhâda or the spirit stone, is considered as the
representative or type of the deceased, and offerings of milk and
water are given to it for ten days." Further he says: "On nearing
the burning ground a small stone is picked up, and with it the feet,
nose, and chest of the deceased are touched thrice. This stone is
called Ashma, and is considered as a type of the deceased, and to
it funeral oblations are offered for ten days. The bier is then put
down, and a ceremony called Visrânti Srâddha is performed by the chief
mourner, who comes forward and offers two balls of rice, called Bhût
or 'spirit,' and Khechar, or 'roamer in the sky,' to the deceased. A
hole is dug and the balls are buried there, and the litter is raised
again on shoulders by four persons and carried to the cemetery."
The same idea of barring the return of the ghost accounts for the
tombstone and cairn. British evil spirits have been secured in this
way. Mr. Henderson tells of a vicious spirit which was entombed under
a large stone for the space of ninety years and a day. Should any
luckless person sit on that stone, he would be unable to leave it
for ever. [174] In India, when a Ho or Munda dies, a very substantial
coffin is constructed and placed on faggots of brushwood. The body,
carefully washed and anointed with oil, is reverently laid in this
coffin, and all the clothes, ornaments, and agricultural implements
that the deceased was in the habit of using are placed with it, and
also any money that he had with him when he died. Then the lid of the
coffin is put on and the whole is burned. The bones are collected,
taken in procession to the houses of friends, and every place where
the deceased was in the habit of visiting. They are finally buried
under a large slab, and a megalithic monument is erected to the memory
of the dead. A quantity of rice is thrown into the grave with other
food. [175]
This custom of parading the corpse also prevails in Ireland.
"I believe it is the custom in most, if not all, small towns in the
south for a body to be carried, on its way to the graveyard, round
the town by the longest way to bid its last farewell to the place. If
the body be that of a murdered man, it is, if possible, carried past
the house of the murderer. In county Wicklow, if an old church lies
on the way to the grave, the body is borne round it three times." [176]
The Korkus of Hoshangâbâd have a remarkable method of laying the
ghost. "Each clan has a place in which the funeral rite of every
member of that clan must be performed; and however far the Korku may
have wandered from the original centre of his tribe, he must return
there to set his father's spirit to rest, and enable it to join
its own family and ancestral ghosts. In this spot a separate stake
(munda) is set up for every one whose rites are separately performed,
and if a poor Korku performs them for several ancestors at once, he
still puts up only one stake. It stands two or two and a half feet
above the ground, planed smooth and squared at the top; on one side
is carved at the top the likeness of the sun and moon, a spider,
and a wheat ear, and below it a figure representing the principal
person in whose honour it is put up, on horseback, with weapons in
his hands. If more than one person's death is being celebrated, the
rest are carved below as subordinate figures. I could not learn that
the spirits are supposed to specially haunt this grove of stakes,
or that Korkus have any dread of going near it at night; but they
are far bolder than Hindus in this respect. When the funeral rite
is to be performed, the first thing is to cut a bamboo and take out
the pith, which is to represent the bones of the deceased, unless he
has been burnt, in which case the bones themselves will have been
preserved. A chicken is then sacrificed at the grave, and all that
night the mourners watch and dance, and sing and make merry.
"Next day they go out very early, and cut down some perfectly
unblemished tree, either teak or Salâi, not hollow or decayed or
marked with an axe, which they cut to make the Munda stake. It is
brought home at once and fashioned by a skilful man. In the afternoon
it is carried to the place where cattle rest outside the village at
noontide, and is washed and covered with turmeric like a bridegroom,
and five chickens are sacrificed to it. It is then brought home again,
and the pith representing the bones is taken outside the village and
hung to some tree for safety during the night." (The idea, as we have
elsewhere seen, is more probably to allow the ghost an opportunity
of revisiting them.)
"All the friends and relations have by this time assembled, and
this evening the chief funeral dinner is given. Next day, the whole
party set out for the place where the stakes of their clan are set
up, and after digging a hole and putting two copper coins in it,
and the bones of the deceased or the pith which represents them,
they put the stake in and fix it upright. Then they offer a goat
or chickens to it, which are presently eaten close by, and in the
evening the whole party returns home." [177]
All this ritual, carried out by one of the most primitive Indian
tribes, admirably illustrates the principles which we have been
discussing. The obvious intention of the custom is to provide
a resting-place for the spirit of the dead man, so that it may no
longer be a source of danger to the survivors.
Similar customs prevail among other aboriginal races of the Central
Provinces. In some places they burn their dead and then erect
platforms, at the corners of which they place tall, red stones. In
other places a sort of low square mound is raised over the remains
of the deceased, at the corners of which are erected wooden posts,
round which thread is wound to complete the sacred circle, and a
stone is set up in the centre. Here offerings are presented, as in
the jungle worship of their deities, of rice and other grains, fowls
or sheep. On one occasion after the establishment of the Bhonsla
or Marhâta Government in Gondwâna a cow was offered to the manes
of a Gond; but this having come to the notice of the authorities,
the relations were publicly whipped, and all were interdicted from
doing such an act again.
To persons of more than usual reputation for sanctity offerings
continue to be presented for many years after their decease. In the
District of Bhandâra rude collections of coarse earthenware in the
form of horses may be seen, which have accumulated from year to year
on the tombs of such men. [178] The Pauariyas of Chota Nâgpur bury
their dead, except the bodies of their priests, which are carried
on a cot into the forests covered with leaves and branches and kept
there, the reason assigned being that if laid in the village cemetery
their ghosts become very troublesome. The bodies of people who die
of contagious disease are similarly disposed of, the fact of death
in this way being supposed to be the direct act of one of the deities
who govern plagues. [179]
In a country where immediate burial or cremation is necessary and
habitual, we need not expect to meet many examples of the customs,
of which Mr. H. Spencer gives examples, [180] of placing the body
on a platform or the like in order to secure its personal comfort
and conciliate the spirit. With the object of keeping a place ready
for the spirit, some tribes are careful to preserve the body. The
Singpoo of the north-eastern frontier keep the bodies of their dead
chiefs for several years, and the Kûkis dry the dead at a slow fire,
[181] practices which among more civilized races rise to embalming, as
among the Chinese and Egyptians. The Thârus of the sub-Himâlayan Tarâî
have a custom of placing the corpse on the village fetish mound during
the night after death, and then the mourning goes on. The practice is
perhaps intended as much to prevent, by the sanctity of the spot on
which it is placed, the spirit from harming the survivors, as from
any special desire to conciliate it. Among all Hindus, of course,
as far as exigencies of the rapid disposal of the remains allow,
it is habitual to treat the dead with respect; corpses are carefully
covered with red cloth, and removed reverently for burial or cremation.
There is also among some tribes the custom of disinterring corpses
after temporary burial. Thus, the Bhotiyas of the Himâlayas burn
their dead only in the month of Kârttik; those who die in the meantime
are temporarily buried and disinterred when the season for cremation
arrives. The Kathkâris, a jungle tribe in Bombay, dig up the corpse
some time after burial and hold a wake over the ghastly relics. They
appear to do this only in the case of persons dying of cholera or
small-pox, with some idea of appeasing the deity of disease. In parts
of Oudh the custom is said still to prevail among the lower castes
during epidemics, and it has recently attracted the attention of the
sanitary officers. [182]
The Funeral Feast.
The funeral feast is evidently a survival of the feast when the dead
kinsman was consumed by his relatives, who wished thus to partake
of the properties of the dead. By another theory the feasting of the
mourners is intended to resist the attempt of the ghost of the dead
man to enter their bodies, food being offensive to spirits.
Mutilation a Sign of Mourning.
Perhaps the only distinct survival of the ceremonial mutilation so
common among savages as a sign of mourning, is the shaving which is
compulsory on all the clansmen who shared in the death pollution. In
the Odyssey, at the death of Antilochus, Peisistratus says, "This is
now the only due we pay to miserable men, to cut the hair and let the
tear fall from the cheek," and at the burial rites of Patroklus "they
heaped all the corpse with their hair which they cut off and threw
thereon." The cutting of the hair is always a serious matter. "Amongst
the Maoris many spells were uttered at hair-cutting; one, for example,
was spoken to consecrate the obsidian knife with which the hair was
cut; another was pronounced to avert the thunder and lightning which
hair-cutting was believed to cause." [183] This ceremonial shaving is
also perhaps the only survival in Northern India of puberty initiation
ceremonies. In some cases the hair cut appears to be regarded as a
sacrifice. Thus between the ages of two and five the Bhîls shave the
heads of their children. The child's aunt takes the hair in her lap,
and wrapping it in her clothes, receives a cow, buffalo, or other
present from the child's parent. [184]
Respect Paid to Hair.
All over the world the hair is invested with particular sanctity
as embodying the strength of the owner, as in the Samson-Delilah
story. Vishnu, according to the old story, took two hairs, a white
and a black one, and these became Balarâma and Krishna. Many charms
are worked through hair, and if a witch gets possession of it she
can work evil to the owner. An Italian charm directs, "When you
enter any city, collect before the gate as many hairs as you will
which may lie on the road, saying to yourself that you do this to
remove your headache, and bind one of the hairs to your head." [185]
The strength of Nisus lay in his golden hair, and when it was pulled
out he was killed by Minos. It is this power of hair which possibly
accounts for its preservation as a relic of the dead in lockets and
bracelets, or, as Mr. Hartland shows, the idea at the root of these
practices is that of sacramental communion with the dead. [186]
We have already come across instances of growing hair as a
curse. Mr. Frazer gives numerous examples of this custom among savage
races, and in the Teutonic mythology the avenger of Baldur will not
cut his hair until he has killed his enemy.
In the folk-tales hair is a powerful deus ex machinâ, human hair for
choice, but any kind will answer the purpose. It is one of the most
common incidents that the hero recognizes the heroine by a lock of
her hair which floats down the stream. [187]
A curious instance of mutilation regarded as a charm may be quoted
from Bengal. Should a woman give birth to several stillborn children,
in succession, the popular belief is that the same child reappears on
each occasion. So, to frustrate the designs of the evil spirit that
has taken possession of the child, the nose or a portion of the ear
is cut off and the body is cast on a dunghill.
Food for the Dead.
Another means for conciliating the spirit of the dead man is to
lay up food for its use. [188] This is intended partly as provision
for the ghost in its journey to the other world. But in some cases
it would seem that there is a different basis for the custom. As we
have seen, it is dangerous to eat the food of fairy-land, and unless
food is supplied to the wandering ghost, it may be obliged to eat the
food of the lower world and hence be unable to return to the world of
men. According to the ancient Indian ritual it was recommended to put
into the hands of the dead man the reins of the animal killed in the
funeral sacrifice, or in default of an animal victim at least two cakes
of rice or flour, so that he may throw them to the dogs of Yama, which
would otherwise bar his passage, [189] and the same idea constantly
appears in the folk-tales where the hero takes some food with him which
he flings to the fierce beasts which prevent him from gaining the water
of life or whatever may have been the test imposed upon him. The use
of pulse in the funeral rites depends upon the same principle, and
in the Greek belief the dead carried vegetables with them to hell,
either to win the right of passage or as provisions for the road.
Articles left with the Corpse.
Hence too comes the practice of burning with the corpse the articles
which the dead man was in the habit of using. They rise with the
fumes of the pyre and solace him in the world of spirits. The Kos told
Colonel Dalton that the reason of this was that they were unwilling
to derive any immediate benefit by the death of a member of the
family. Hence they burn his wearing apparel and personal effects,
but they do not destroy clothes and other things which have not been
worn. For this reason, old men of the tribe, in a spirit of careful
economy, avoid wearing new clothes, so that they may not be wasted
at the funeral. [190]
The custom of laying out food for the ghost still prevails in Ireland,
where it is a very prevalent practice during some nights after
death to leave food outside the house, a griddle cake or a dish of
potatoes. If it is gone in the morning, the spirits must have taken
it, for no human being would touch the food left for the dead, as it
might compel him to join their company. On November Eve food is laid
out in the same way. [191]
There are numerous examples of similar practices in India. The Mhârs of
Khândesh, when they remove a corpse, put in its mouth a Pân leaf with
a gold bead from his wife's necklace. At the grave the brother or son
of the dead man wets the end of his turban and drops a little water
on the lips of the corpse. [192] So the Greeks used to put a coin in
the dead man's mouth to enable him to pay his fare to Charon. In the
Panjâb it is a common practice to put in the mouth of the corpse the
Pancharatana or five kinds of jewels, gold, silver, copper, coral,
and pewter. The leaves of the Tulasi or sweet basil and Ganges water
are put into the mouth of a dying man, and the former into the ears and
nostrils also. They are said to be offerings to Yama, the god of death,
who on receiving them shows mercy to the soul of the deceased. The
same customs generally prevail among the Hindus of Northern India.
Among the Buddhists of the Himâlaya, Moorcroft was present at the
consecration of the food of the dead. [193] The Lâma consecrated
barley and water and poured them from a silver saucer into a brass
vessel, occasionally striking two brass cymbals together, reciting or
chanting prayers, to which from time to time an inferior Lâma uttered
responses aloud, accompanied by the rest in an undertone. This was
intended for the use of the souls in hell, who would starve were it
not provided. The music and singing, if we may apply the analogy of
Indian practices, are intended to scare the vagrant ghosts, who would
otherwise consume or defile the food.
The same is the case among the Drâvidian races. Thus, the Bhuiyârs
of Mirzapur after the funeral feast throw a cupful of oil and some
food into the water hole in which the ashes of the dead man are
deposited. They say that he will never be hungry or want oil to anoint
himself after bathing. The Korwas, when burning a corpse, place with
it the ornaments and clothes of the deceased, and an axe, which they
do not break, as is the habit of many other savages. They say that
the spirit of the dead man will want it to hack his way through the
jungles of the lower world. When the Bhuiyârs cremate a corpse they
throw near the spot an axe, if the deceased was a man, and a Khurpi
or weeding spud, if a woman. No one would dare to appropriate such
things, as he would be forced to join the ghastly company of their
owners. Where the corpse is burned they leave a platter made of leaves
containing a little boiled rice, and they sprinkle on the ground all
the ordinary kinds of grain and some turmeric and salt as food for
the dead in the next world.
All these tribes and many low-caste Hindus in Northern India lay
out platters of food under the eaves of the house during the period
of mourning, and they ascertain by peculiar marks which they examine
next day whether the spirit has partaken of the food or not. Among the
jungle tribes there is a rule that the food for the dead is prepared,
not by the house-mother, but by the senior daughter-in-law, and even
if incapacitated by illness from performing this duty, she is bound
at least to commence the work by cooking one or two cakes, the rest
being prepared by one of the junior women of the family.
Among the more Hinduized Majhwârs and Patâris we reach the stage where
the clothes, implements of the deceased, and some food are given to
the Patâri priest, who, by vicariously consuming them, lays up a store
for the use of the dead man in the other world. This is the principle
on which food and other articles are given to the Mahâbrâhman or
ordinary Hindu funeral priest at the close of the period of mourning.
Among the Bengal tribes, the Mâl Pahariyas pour the blood of goats
and fowls on their ancestral memorial pillars that the souls may not
hunger in the world of the dead. Among the Bhûmij, at the funeral
ceremony, an outsider, who is often a Laiya or priest, comes forward
to personate the deceased, by whose name he is addressed, and asked
what he wants to eat. Acting thus as the dead man's proxy, he mentions
various articles of food, which are placed before him. After making a
regular meal, he goes away, and the spirit of the deceased is believed
to go with him. So among the Kolis of the Konkan, the dead man's soul
is brought back into one of the mourners. Among the Vârlis of Thâna,
on the twelfth day after death, a dinner is given to the nearest
relations, and during the night the spirit of the dead enters into
one of the relations, who entertains the rest with the story of some
event in the dead man's life. Among the Santâls, one of the mourners
drums by the ashes of the dead, and the spirit enters the body, when
the mourner shaves, bathes, eats a cock, and drinks some liquor. [194]
Among the Bengal Chakmas, a bamboo post or other portion of a dead
man's house is burned with him, probably in order to provide him with
shelter in the next world. Among the Kâmis, before they can partake
of the funeral feast, a small portion of every dish must be placed
in a leaf plate and taken out into the jungle for the spirit of the
dead man, and carefully watched until a fly or other insect settles
upon it. The watcher then covers up the plate with a slab of stone,
eats his own food, and returns to tell the relatives that the spirit
has received the offering prepared for him.
The Fly as a Life Index.
The fly here represents the spirit, an idea very common in folk-lore,
where an insect often appears as the Life Index. An English lady has
been known in India to stop playing lawn-tennis because a butterfly
settled in the court. In Cornwall wandering spirits take the form
of moths, ants, and weasels. [195] We have the same idea in Titus
Andronicus, when Marcus, having been rebuked for killing a fly,
gives as his reason,--
"It was a black, ill-favoured fly,
Like to the empress Moor; therefore I kill'd him."
A fly is the guardian spirit of St. Michael's well in Banff. [196]
Recalling the Ghost.
But while it is expedient by some or other of these devices to bar or
lay the ghost, or prevent its return by providing for its journey to,
and accommodation in the next world, some tribes have a custom of
making arrangements to bring back the soul of the deceased to the
family abode, where he is worshipped as a household spirit. Some of
the Central Indian tribes catch the spirit re-embodied in a fowl or
fish, some bring it home in a pot of water or flour. [197] Among the
Tipperas of Bengal, when a man dies in a strange village separated from
his home by the river, they stretch a white string from bank to bank
along which the spirit is believed to return. [198] This illustrates
an idea common to all folk-lore that the ghost cannot cross running
water without material assistance. Among the Hos on the evening
of the cremation day certain preparations are made in anticipation
of a visit from the ghost. Some boiled rice is laid apart for it,
and ashes are sprinkled on the floor, in order that, should it come,
its footsteps may be detected. On returning they carefully scrutinize
the ashes and the rice, and if there is the faintest indication of
these having been disturbed, it is attributed to the action of the
spirit, and they sit down shivering with horror and crying bitterly,
as if they were by no means pleased with the visit, though it be made
at their earnest solicitation. [199]
Ashes.
This use of ashes as a means of identifying the ghost, constitutes
in itself quite an important chapter in folk-lore. It reminds us
of the Apocryphal legend of Bel and the Dragon. The idea probably
originally arose from the respect paid to the ashes of the house
fire by primitive races, among whom the hearth and the kitchen are
the home of the household godlings.
There are numerous instances of this practice from Europe. In the
Western Islands of Scotland on Candlemas Day the mistress takes a
sheaf of oats, dresses it in woman's apparel, and after putting it in a
large basket beside which a wooden club is placed, cries three times,
"Briid is come! Briid is welcome!" Next morning they look for the
impression of Briid's club in the ashes, which is an omen of a good
harvest. [200] Ash-riddling is a custom in the northern counties. The
ashes being riddled or sifted on the hearth, if any one of the family
be to die within the year, the mark of a shoe will be impressed
upon the ashes. [201] In Wales they make a bonfire, and when it is
extinguished each one throws a white stone into the ashes. In the
morning they search out the stones, and if any one is found wanting,
he that threw it will die within the year. [202] In Manxland the
ashes are carefully swept to the open hearth and nicely flattened
down by the women before they go to bed. In the morning they look for
footmarks on the hearth, and if they find such footmarks directed to
the door, it means in the course of the year a death in the family,
and if the reverse, they expect an addition to it by marriage. [203]
According to one of the Italian charms, "And they were accustomed to
divine sometimes with the ashes from the sacrifices. And to this day
there is a trace of it, when that which is to be divined is written
on the ashes with the finger or with the stick. Then the ashes are
stirred by the fresh breeze, and one looks for the letters which they
form by being moved." [204]
Amongst some Hindus, on the tenth night after the death of a person,
he who fired the funeral pyre is required to sift some ashes, near
which a lamp is placed, and the whole covered with a basket. Next
morning the ashes are examined, and the ghost is supposed to have
migrated into the animal whose mark appears on the ashes. [205] So,
at the annual feast of the dead, the jungle tribes of Mirzapur spread
ashes on the floor, and a mark generally like that of a chicken's foot
shows that the family ghosts have visited the house. "On New Year's
Eve," says Aubrey, "sift or smooth the ashes and leave it so when you
go to bed; next morning look, and if you find there the likeness of a
coffin, one will die; if a ring, one will be married." [206] In North
Scotland, on the night after the funeral, bread and water are placed
in the apartment where the body lay. The dead man was believed to
return that night and partake of the food; unless this were done the
spirits could not rest in the unseen world. This probably accounts
for the so-called "food vases" and "drinking cups" found in the long
barrows. [207] All Hindus believe that the ghosts of the dead return
on the night of the Diwâlî or feast of lamps.
Replacing Household Vessels.
After a death all the household earthen pots are broken and
replaced. It has been suggested that this is due either to the
belief that the ghost of the dead man is in some of them, or that the
custom may have some connection with the idea of providing the ghost
with utensils in the next world. [208] In popular belief, however,
the custom is explained by the death pollution attaching to all the
family cooking vessels, which, if of metal, are purified with fire. The
vessel is the home of the spirit: "At most Hindu funerals a water jar
is carried round the pyre, and then dashed to the ground, apparently to
show that the spirit has left its earthly home. So, the Surat Chondras
set up as spirit homes large whitewashed earthen jars laid on their
sides. So, to please any spirit likely to injure a crop, an earthen
jar is set on a pole as the spirit's house, and so at a wedding or
other ceremonies, jars, sometimes empty, sometimes filled with water,
are piled as homes for planets and other marriage gods and goddesses,
that they may feel pleased and their influence be friendly." [209]
We have already met with the Kalasa or sacred jar. The same idea
of the pollution of earthen vessels prevailed among the Hebrews,
when an earthen vessel remaining in a tent in which a person died
was considered impure for seven days. [210]
Funeral Rites in Effigy.
When a person dies at a distance from home, and it is impossible
to perform the funeral rites over the body, it is cremated in
effigy. The special term for this is Kusa-putra, or "son of the Kusa
grass." Colonel Tod gives a case of this when Râja Ummeda of Bûndi
abdicated: "An image of the prince was made, and a pyre was erected on
which it was consumed. The hair and whiskers of Ajît, his successor,
were taken off and offered to the Manes; lamentations and wailing were
heard in the Queen's apartments, and the twelve days of mourning were
held as if Ummeda had really deceased; on the expiration of which
the installation of his successor took place." [211]
Ghosts Lengthening Themselves.
Ghosts, as we have already seen in the case of the Naugaza, have
the power of changing their length. In the well-known tale in the
Arabian Nights the demon is shut up in a jar under the seal of the
Lord Solomon, as in one of the German tales the Devil is shut up in
a crevice in a pine tree, and the ghost of Major Weir of Edinburgh
resided in his walking-stick. [212] Some of the Indian ghosts, like the
Ifrît of the Arabian Nights, can grow to the length of ten yojanas or
eighty miles. In one of the Bengal tales a ghost is identified because
she can stretch out her hands several yards for a vessel. [213] Some
ghosts possess the very dangerous power of entering human corpses,
like the Vetâla, and swelling to an enormous size. The Kharwârs of
Mirzapur have a wild legend, which tells how long ago an unmarried
girl of the tribe died, and was being cremated. While the relations
were collecting wood for the pyre, a ghost entered the corpse, but
the friends managed to expel him. Since then great care is taken not
to leave the bodies of women unwatched. So, in the Panjâb, when a
great person is cremated the bones and ashes are carefully watched
till the fourth day, to prevent a magician interfering with them. If
he has a chance, he can restore the deceased to life, and ever after
retain him under his influence. This is the origin of the custom in
Great Britain of waking the dead, a practice which "most probably
originated from a silly superstition as to the danger of a corpse
being carried off by some of the agents of the invisible world, or
exposed to the ominous liberties of brute animals." [214] But in India
it is considered the best course, if the corpse cannot be immediately
disposed of, to measure it carefully, and then no malignant Bhût can
occupy it. We have already met with instances of a similar idea of
the mystic effect supposed to follow on measuring or weighing grain.
Kindly Ghosts.
Most of the ghosts whom we have been as yet considering are
malignant. There are, however, others which are friendly. Such
are the German Elves, the Robin Goodfellow, Puck, Brownie and the
Cauld Lad of Hilton of England, the Glashan of the Isle of Man,
the Phouka or Leprehaun of Ireland. Such, in one of his many forms,
is the Brahmadaitya, or ghost of a Brâhman who has died unmarried. In
Bengal he is believed to be more neat and less mischievous than other
ghosts; the Bhûts carry him in a palanquin, he wears wooden sandals,
lives in a Banyan or Bel tree, and Sankhachûrnî is his mistress. He
appears to be about the only respectable bachelor ghost. In one of the
folk-tales a ghostly reaper of this class assists his human friend,
and can cut as much of the crop in a minute as an ordinary person
can in a day. [215] So, the Manx Brownie is called the Fenodyree,
and he is described as a hairy, clumsy fellow who would thresh a whole
barnful of corn in a single night for the people to whom he felt well
disposed. [216] This Brahmadaitya is the leader of the other ghosts
in virtue of his respectable origin; he lives in a tree, and, unlike
other varieties of Bhûts, does not eat all kinds of food, but only
such as are considered ceremonially pure. He never, like common Bhûts,
frightens men, but is harmless and quiet, never plaguing benighted
travellers, nor entering into the bodies of living men or women,
but if his dignity be insulted, or any one trespass on his domains,
he wrings their necks.
Tree Ghosts.
Hence in regard to trees great caution is required. A Hindu will
never climb one of the varieties of fig, the Ficus Cordifolia, except
through dire necessity, and if a Brâhman is forced to ascend the
Bel tree or Aegle Marmelos for the purpose of obtaining the sacred
trefoil so largely used in Saiva worship, he only does so after
offering prayers to the gods in general, and to the Brahmadaitya in
particular who may have taken up his abode in this special tree.
These tree ghosts are, it is needless to say, very numerous. Hence
most local shrines are constructed under trees, and in one particular
tree, the Bîra, the jungle tribes of Mirzapur locate Bâgheswar, the
tiger godling, one of their most dreaded deities. In the Konkan,
according to Mr. Campbell, [217] the medium or Bhagat who becomes
possessed is called Jhâd, or "tree," apparently because he is a
favourite dwelling-place for spirits. In the Dakkhin it is believed
that the spirit of the pregnant woman or Churel lives in a tree, and
the Abors and Padams of East Bengal believe that spirits in trees
kidnap children. [218] Many of these tree spirits appear in the
folk-tales. Thus, Devadatta worships a tree which one day suddenly
clave in two and a nymph appeared who introduced him inside the tree,
where was a heavenly palace of jewels, in which, reclining on a couch,
appeared Vidyatprabhâ, the maiden daughter of the king of the Yakshas;
in another story the mendicant hears inside a tree the Yaksha joking
with his wife. [219] So Daphne is turned into a tree to avoid the
pursuit of her lover.
The Brahmaparusha.
But there is another variety of Brâhman ghost who is much dreaded. This
is the Brahmaparusha or Brahma Râkshasa. In one of the folk-tales he
appears black as soot, with hair yellow as the lightning, looking
like a thunder-cloud. He had made himself a wreath of entrails;
he wore a sacrificial cord of hair; he was gnawing the flesh of a
man's head and drinking blood out of a skull. In another story these
Brahma Râkshasas have formidable tusks, flaming hair, and insatiable
hunger. They wander about the forests catching animals and eating
them. [220] Mr. Campbell tells a Marhâta legend of a master who became
a Brahmaparusha in order to teach grammar to a pupil. He haunted a
house at Benares, and the pupil went to take lessons from him. He
promised to teach him the whole science in a year on condition that
he never left the house. One day the boy went out and learned that
the house was haunted, and that he was being taught by a ghost. The
boy returned and was ordered by the preceptor to take his bones to
Gaya, and perform the necessary ceremonies for the emancipation of
his soul. This he did, and the uneasy spirit of the learned man was
laid. [221] We have already encountered similar angry Brâhman ghosts,
such as Harshu Pânrê and Mahenî.
The Jâk and Jâknî.
The really friendly agricultural sprites are the pair known in some
places as the Jâk and Jâknî, and in others as Chordeva and Chordevî,
the "thief godlings." With the Jâk we come on another of these curious
survivals from the early mythology in a sadly degraded form. As
Varuna, the god of the firmament, has been reduced in these later
days to Barun, a petty weather godling, so the Jâk is the modern
representative of the Yaksha, who in better times was the attendant
of Kuvera, the god of wealth, in which duty he was assisted by the
Guhyaka. The character of the Yaksha is not very certain. He was
called Punya-janas, "the good people," but he sometimes appears as
an imp of evil. In the folk-tales, it must be admitted, the Yakshas
have an equivocal reputation. In one story the female, or Yakshinî,
bewilders travellers at night, makes horns grow on their foreheads,
and finally devours them; in another the Yakshas have, like the Churel,
feet turned the wrong way and squinting eyes; in a third they separate
the hero from the heroine because he failed to make due offerings
to them on his wedding day. On the other hand, in a fourth tale the
Yakshinî is described as possessed of heavenly beauty; she appears
again when a sacrifice is made in a cemetery to get her into the hero's
power, as a heavenly maiden beautifully adorned, seated in a chariot
of gold surrounded by lovely girls; and lastly, a Brâhman meets some
Buddhist ascetics, performs the Uposhana vow, and would have become
a god, had it not been that a wicked man compelled him by force to
take food in the evening, and so he was re-born as a Guhyaka. [222]
In the modern folk-lore of Kashmîr, the Yaksha has turned into the
Yech or Yach, a humorous, though powerful, sprite in the shape of
a civet cat of a dark colour, with a white cap on his head. This
small high cap is one of the marks of the Irish fairies, and the
Incubones of Italy wear caps, "the symbols of their hidden, secret
natures." The feet of the Yech are so small as to be almost invisible,
and it squeaks in a feline way. It can assume any shape, and if its
white cap can be secured, it becomes the servant of the possessor,
and the white cap makes him invisible. [223]
In the Vishnu Purâna we read that Vishnu created the Yakshas as beings
emaciate with hunger, of hideous aspect, and with big beards, and
that from their habit of crying for food they were so named. [224]
By the Buddhists they were regarded as benignant spirits. One of
them acts as sort of chorus in the Meghadûta or "Cloud Messenger"
of Kâlidâsa. Yet we read of the Yaka Alawaka, who, according to the
Buddhist legend, used to live in a Banyan tree, and slay any one who
approached it; while in Ceylon they are represented as demons whom
Buddha destroyed. [225] In later Hinduism they are generally of fair
repute, and one of them was appointed by Indra to be the attendant
of the Jaina Saint Mahâvîra. It is curious that in Gujarât the term
Yaksha is applied to Musalmâns, and in Cutch to a much older race of
northern conquerors. [226]
At any rate the modern Jâk and Jâknî, Chordeva and Chordevî,
are eminently respectable and kindly sprites. They are, in fact,
an obvious survival of the pair of corn spirits which inhabit the
standing crop. [227] The Jâk is compelled to live apart from the Jâknî
in neighbouring villages, but he is an uxorious husband, and robs
his own village to supply the wants of his consort. So, if you see a
comparatively barren village, which is next to one more productive,
you may be sure that the Jâk lives in the former and the Jâknî in
the latter. The same is the character of the Chor or Chordeva and
the Chornî or Chordevî of the jungle tribes of Mirzapur.
Ghosts which Protect Cattle.
In the Hills there are various benevolent ghosts or godlings who
protect cattle. Sâin, the spirit of an old ascetic, helps the Bhotiyas
to recover lost cattle, and Siddhua and Buddhua, the ghosts of two
harmless goatherds, are invoked when a goat falls ill. [228] In the
same class is Nagardeo of Garhwâl, who is represented in nearly every
village by a three-pronged pike or Trisûla on a platform. When cows
and buffaloes are first milked, the milk is offered to him. It is
perhaps possible that from some blameless godling of the cow-pen,
such as Nagardeo, the cultus of Pasupatinâtha, "the lord of animals,"
an epithet of Siva or Rudra, who has a stately shrine at Hardwâr,
where his lingam is wreathed with cobras, was derived. Another Hill
godling of the same class is Chaumu or Baudhân, who has a shrine
in every village, which the people at the risk of offending him are
supposed to keep clean and holy. Lamps are lighted, sweetmeats and
the fruits of the earth are offered to him. When a calf dies the
milk of the mother is considered unholy till the twelfth day, when
some is offered to the deity. He also recovers lost animals, if duly
propitiated, but if neglected, he brings disease on the herd. [229]
Another cattle godling in the Hills is Kaluva or Kalbisht, who
lived on earth some two hundred years ago. His enemies persuaded his
brother-in-law to kill him. After his death he became a benevolent
spirit, and the only people he injured were the enemies who compassed
his death. His name is now a charm against wild beasts, and people
who are oppressed resort to his shrine for justice. Except in name he
seems to have nothing to say to Kâlu Kahâr, who was born of a Kahâr
girl, who by magical charms compelled King Solomon to marry her. His
fetish is a stick covered with peacock's feathers to which offerings
of food are made. He has more than a quarter of a million worshippers,
according to the last census, in the Meerut Division.
Bugaboos.
We close this long list of ghostly personages with those who are
merely bugaboos to frighten children. Such are Hawwa, probably a
corruption through the Prâkrit of the Sanskrit Bhûta, and Humma or
Humu, who is said to be the ghost of the Emperor Humayûn, who died
by an untimely death. Akin perhaps to him are the Humanas of Kumaun,
who take the form of men, but cannot act as ordinary persons. [230]
These sprites are to the Bengâli matron what Old Scratch and Red Nose
and Bloody Bones are to English mothers, [231] and when a Bengâli
baby is particularly naughty its mother threatens to send for Warren
Hastings. Akin to these is Ghoghar, who represents Ghuggu or the
hooting of the owl. [232] Nekî Bîbî, "the good lady;" Mâno or the
cat; Bhâkur; Bhokaswa; and Dokarkaswa, "the old man with the bag,"
who carries off naughty children, who is the Mr. Miacca of the English
nursery. [233]