Having mentioned the superstitious method used in this country
for the cure of the ague, I wish to introduce a short account of
some popular prejudices more or less connected with the prevalent
religious notions. I shall probably add a few facts under this head,
for no better reason than that I do not know how to class them under
any other.
There is an allusion in Hudibras to an antiquated piece of gallantry
which I believe may be illustrated by a religious custom to which I
was sometimes subjected in my childhood. The passage runs thus:
I’ll carve your name on barks of trees
With true love-knots and flourishes, ...
_Drink every letter on’t in stum,
And make it brisk Champaigne become._[46]
[46] Hudibras, Part II. Canto I.
The latter compliment is paid by sick persons to the Virgin Mary,
in the hope of recovering health through her intercession. An image
is worshipped at one of the principal parish churches in this
town, under the title of the _Virgin of Health_. The charm of this
denomination draws numbers to the sanctuary, which, being in the
centre of the wealthiest population, derives considerable splendour
from their offerings. In exchange for these they often receive a
sheet of printed paper containing at regular intervals the words
_Salus infirmorum_, in very small type. In case of illness, one
of the lines is cut off, and, being coiled into a small roll, the
patient swallows it in a glass of water.
The room where a person lies dangerously ill, generally contains more
relics and amulets than the chimney-piece of an invalid, under the
care of a London apothecary, holds phials of all shapes and sizes.
The friends of a lady near her confinement, vie with each other in
procuring her every kind of supernatural assistance for the trying
hour; when, strange to say, she is often dressed in the episcopal
robes of some saint, which are supposed to act most effectually when
in contact with the body of the distressed petitioner. But whatever
patrons the ladies may choose to implore in those circumstances,
there are two whose assistance, by means of relics, pictures, or the
apparel of their images, is never dispensed with. The names of these
invisible accoucheurs are _Saint Raymundus Nonnatus_, and _Saint
Vincent Ferrer_. That the former should be considered as peculiarly
interested in such cases, having, as his addition implies, been
extracted from the womb of his dead mother, is perfectly clear and
natural. But, _Ferrer’s_ sympathy requires a slight explanation.
That saint--a native of Valencia, and a monk of the order of Saint
Dominic, possessed the gift of miracles in such a degree, that
he performed them almost unconsciously, and not unfrequently in
a sort of frolic. Being applied to, on a certain occasion, by a
young married lady, whom the idea of approaching maternity kept in
a state of constant terror, the good-natured Saint desired her to
dismiss her fears, as he was determined to take upon himself whatever
inconvenience or trouble there might be in the case. Some weeks had
elapsed, when the good Monk, who had forgotten his engagement, was
heard in the dead of night roaring and screaming in a manner so
unusual, and so little becoming a professional Saint, that he drew
the whole community to his cell. Nothing, for a time, could relieve
the mysterious sufferings, and though he passed the rest of the night
_as well as could be expected_, the fear of a relapse would have kept
his afflicted brethren in painful suspense, had not the grateful
husband of the timid lady, who was the cause of the uproar, taken an
early opportunity to return thanks for the _unconscious_ delivery of
his consort. Saint Vincent, though according to tradition perfectly
unwilling to stand a second time proxy for nervous ladies, is, from
a very natural sympathy, constantly in readiness to act as the male
Lucina of the Spanish matrons.