OF HERBS AND MAGIC
“And first, her fern-seed doth bestow
The kernel of the mistletow,
And here and there as Puck should go,
With terror to affright him.
The nightshade straws to work him ill,
There with her vervain and her dill,
That hindreth witches of their will,
Of purpose to dispight him.
Then sprinkled she the juice of rue,
That groweth underneath the yew,
With nine drops of the midnight dew
From lunary distilling.”
_Nymphidia._--DRAYTON.
“Trefoil, vervain, John’s wort, dill,
Hinders witches of their will.”
_Guy Mannering._
Amongst the account-books of the Physic Garden in Chelsea, there is one
on whose fly-leaf is scrawled a list of “Botanical Writers before
Christ.” It begins:
Zoroaster.
Orpheus.
Moses.
Solomon.
Homer.
Solon.
Names that one hardly expects to find grouped together, and especially
not under this heading. The vegetable world, however, has attracted
writers since the earliest times, and in the days when supernatural
agencies were almost always brought forward to account for
uncomprehended phenomena, it was not marvellous that misty lore should
lead to the association of plants and magic. The book of nature is not
always easy to read, and the older students drew from it very personal
interpretations. Some herbs were magical because they were used in
spells and sorceries; others, because they had power in themselves. For
instance, Basil, the perfume of which was thought to cause sympathy
between two people, and in Moldavia they say it can even stop a
wandering youth upon his way and make him love the maiden from whose
hand he accepts a sprig. The Crocus flower, too, belongs to the second
class, and brings laughter and great joy, and so it is with others.
Plants were also credited with strong friendships and “enmities” amongst
themselves. “The ancients” held strong views about their “sympathies and
antipathies,” and this sympathy or antipathy was attributed to
individual likes and dislikes. “Rue dislikes Basil,” says Pliny, “but
Rue and the Fig-tree are in a great league and amitie” together.
Alexanders loveth to grow in the same place as Rosemary, but the Radish
is “at enmetie” with Hyssop. Savory and Onions are the better for each
other’s neighbourhood, and Coriander, Dill, Mallows, Herb-Patience and
Chervil “love for companie to be set or sowne together.” Bacon refers to
some of these, but he took a prosaic view and thought these
predilections due to questions of soil!
Being credited with such strong feelings amongst themselves, it is
easier to understand how they were supposed to sympathise with their
“environment.” Honesty, of course, grew best in a very honest man’s
garden. Where Rosemary flourishes, the mistress rules. Sage will fade
with the fortunes of the house and revive again as they recover; and
Bay-trees are famous, but melancholy prophets.
_Captain._--’Tis thought the king is dead; we will not stay,
The Bay-trees in our country are all wither’d.
_Richard II._ ii. 4.
From this, it is not a great step to acknowledge that particular plants
have power to produce certain dispositions in the mind of man. So, the
possession of a Rampion was likely to make a child quarrelsome: while,
on the contrary, eating the leaves of Periwinkle “will cause love
between a man and his wife.” Laurel greatly “composed the phansy,” and
did “facilitate true visions,” and was also “efficacious to inspire a
poetical fury” (Evelyn). Having admitted the power of herbs over mental
and moral qualities, we easily arrive at the recognition of their power
in regard to the supernatural. If, as Culpepper tells us, “a raging
bull, be he ever so mad, tied to a Fig-tree, will become tame and
gentle;” or if, as Pliny says, any one, “by anointing himself with
Chicory and oile will become right amiable and win grace and favour of
all men, so that he shal the more easily obtain whatsoever his heart
stands unto,” it is not much wonder that St John’s Wort would drive away
tempests and evil spirits, four-leaved Clover enable the wearer to see
witches, and Garlic avert the Evil Eye. Thus many herbs are magical “in
their own right,” so to speak, apart from those that are connected with
magic, from being favourites of the fairies, the witches, and, in a few
cases, the Evil One!
De Gubernatis quotes from a work on astrology attributed to King
Solomon, and translated from the Hebrew (?) by Iroé Grego (published in
Rome, 1750), with indignant comments on the “pagan” methods of the
Church in dealing with sorceries. Directions how to make an _aspersoir
pour exorcisme_ are given in it, which, teaching, he says, simply add to
the peasant’s existing load of superstition. Vervain, Periwinkle, Sage,
Mint, Valerian, Ash and Basil are some of the plants chosen. “Tu n’y
ajouteras point l’Hysope, mais le Romarin” (Rosemary). It is odd that
Hyssop should be excluded, because it has always been a special defence
against powers of darkness. In Palermo (again according to De
Gubernatis), on the day of St Mark, the priests mount a hill in
procession and bless the surrounding country, and the women gather
quantities of the Hyssop growing about, and take it home to keep away
from their houses the Evil Eye, and “toute autre influence magique.”
Rosemary is celebrated, from this point of view, as from others. It was,
say the Spaniards, one of the bushes that gave shelter to the Virgin
Mary in the flight into Egypt, and it is still revered. Borrow, in “The
Bible in Spain,” notices that, whereas in that country it is _Romero_,
the Pilgrim’s Flower, in Portugal it is called _Alecrim_, a word of
Scandinavian origin (from _Ellegren_, the Elfin plant), which was
probably carried south by the Vandals. Other authorities think that
“Alecrim” comes from the Arabians. The reference to Rosemary occurs in a
delightful passage. Borrow was staying at an inn, when one evening “in
rushed a wild-looking man mounted on a donkey.... Around his _sombrero_,
or shadowy hat, was tied a large quantity of the herb, which in English
is called Rosemary.... The man seemed frantic with terror, and said that
the witches had been pursuing him and hovering over his head for the
last two leagues.” On making inquiries, Borrow was told that the herb
was “good against witches and mischances on the road.” He treats this
view with great scorn, but says: “I had no time to argue against this
superstition,” and with charming _naïveté_ admits that, notwithstanding
his austerity, when, next morning at departure, some sprigs of it were
pressed upon him by the man’s wife for his protection, “I was foolish
enough to permit her to put some of it in my hat.” The Sicilians thought
that it was a favourite plant of the fairies, and that the young
fairies, taking the form of snakes, lie amongst the branches. Dill, able
to “hinder witches of their will,” was used in spells _against_ witches,
besides being employed by them. There was a strong belief that plants
beloved by magicians, and powerful for evil in their hands, were equally
powerful to avert evil when used in charms against witchcraft. Lunary,
or Honesty, is another plant with a double edge. In France it is
nicknamed _Monnaie du Pape_ and _Herbe aux Lunettes_, and its shining
seed-vessels have many pet names in English. “It has a natural power of
dispelling evil spirits,” quotes Mr Friend, and explains this verdict by
pointing that Lunary with its great silver disks, called after the moon,
is disliked and avoided by evil spirits, who fear the light and seek
darkness. Rue is used by witches and against them; in some parts of
Italy a talisman against their power is made by sewing up the leaves in
a little bag and wearing it near the heart. If the floor of a house be
rubbed with Rue it is certain that all witches must fly from it. In
Argentina grows the Nightmare flower, _Flor de Pesadilla_. The witches
of that region extract from it a drug which causes nightmare lasting all
night long, and they contrive to give it to whoever they wish to
torment. Besides these, Pennyroyal and Henbane, Chervil and Vervain,
Poppies, Mandrakes, Hemlock and Dittany were specially used by witches
in making spells. Valerian, Wormwood, Elder, Pimpernel, Angelica, and
all yellow flowers growing in hedgerows are antagonistic to them. Their
dislike to yellow flowers may have arisen from these being often
dedicated to the sun, and being therefore repellent to lovers of gloom
and mystery. Angelica preserved the wearer from the power of witches or
spells, and is, I think, the only herb quoted by Gerarde as a power
against witchcraft. He does not condescend generally to consider
superstitions other than medical. Of the herbs dedicated to the Evil One
are Yarrow, sometimes known as the Devil’s Nettle; Ground-Ivy, called
his Candlestick, and Houseleek, which he has rather unjustly
appropriated. Mr Friend explains that in Denmark, “Old Thor” is a polite
euphemism, and that the Houseleek really belonged to Thor, but has been
passed on through confusion between the two. Yarrow or Milfoil has been
used for divination in spells from England to China.
“There’s a crying at my window, and a hand upon my door,
And a stir among the Yarrow that’s fading on the floor,
The voice cries at my window, the hand on my door beats on,
But if I heed and answer them, sure hand and voice are gone.”
MAY EVE.
Johnston[97] says: “Tansy and Milfoil were reckoned amongst plants
averse to fascination; but we must retrograde two centuries to be
present at the trial of Elspeth Reoch, who was supernaturally instructed
to cure distempers by resting on her right knee while pulling ‘the herb
callit malefour’ betwixt her mid-finger and thumbe, and saying of, ‘In
nomen Patris, Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.’”
[97] “Botany of the Eastern Borders” (1853).
Johnston gathers his information from Dalzell on the “Darker
Superstitions of Scotland.”
[Illustration: RAMPION]
Wormwood is in some parts of Europe called the “Girdle of St John,” it
has so much power against evil spirits. Cumin is much disliked by a race
of Elves in Germany, called the Moss-People. Dyer[98] tells us that the
life of each one is bound up with the life of a tree, and if the inner
bark of this is loosened, the elf dies. Therefore their precept is:--
“Peel no tree,
Relate no dream,
Bake no cumin in bread,
So will Heav’n help thee in thy need.”
[98] “Folk-Lore of Plants.”
On one occasion when a loaf baked with Cumin was given as an offering to
a forest-wife, she was heard screaming--
“They’ve baken for me Cumin bread
That on this house brings great distress.”
The unhappy giver at once began to go downhill, and was soon reduced to
abject misery! Elecampane is in Denmark called Elf-Dock. Flax-flowers
are a protection against sorcery. “Flax[99] is supposed to be under the
protection of the goddess Hulda, but the plant’s blue blossom is more
especially the flower of Bertha, whose blue eyes shine in its calyx, and
whose distaff is filled by its fibres.... It was the goddess Hulda who
first taught mortals the art of growing flax, of spinning, and of
weaving it.... Between Kroppbühl and Unterlassen, is a cave which is
believed by the country people to have been the entrance to Queen
Hulda’s mountain palace. Twice a year she passed through the valley,
scattering blessings around her path--once in summer, when the blue
flowers of the Flax were brightening the fields, and again during the
mysterious “twelve nights” immediately preceding our Feast of Epiphany,
when, in ancient days, gods and goddesses were believed to visit the
earth.” The Bohemians have a belief that if seven-year-old children
dance among flax, they will become beautiful. From the little Fairy-Flax
“prepared and manufactured by the supernatural skill, the ‘Good People’
were wont in the olden time to procure their requisite supplies of
linen,” writes Johnston.
[99] Folkard.
Wild Thyme is specially beloved by fairies and elves, and Fox-gloves and
Wood-sorrel are also favourites,--Fox-gloves, being called in Ireland,
Fairy-cap, and Wood-sorrel, known in Wales as Fairy-bells.
Among plants that have magic powers in themselves are two varieties of
Pimpinella; the Anise and the Burnet Saxifrage. The first averts the
Evil Eye, and the second is called in Hungary, “Chaba’s Salve,” because
it is said that its virtues were discovered by King Chaba, who after a
furious battle cured 15,000 of his soldiers with it. In Iroé Grego’s
book, it is advised that the sword of a magician should be bathed in the
blood of a mole, and the juice of Pimpinella. De Gubernatis says that in
Germany and in Rome, Endive-seed is sold as a love-philtre, and when
wanted for this reason, the plant must be uprooted not with the hand but
with a bit of gold, or stag’s horn (which symbolise the disk and rays of
the sun) on one of the _jours des Apôtres_, June 27th, St Peter’s Day,
or July 25th, St James’ Day.
The Mustard-tree is called in Sanscrit, the Witch, for when Hindus want
to discover a witch, they light lamps during the night, and fill vessels
with water,[100] into which they gently drop Mustard-seed oil,
pronouncing the name of every woman in the village. If, during the
ceremony, as they pronounce the name of a woman, they notice the shadow
of a female in the water, it is a sure sign that such a woman is a
witch. Mugwort laid in the soles of the boots, will keep a man from
weariness, though he walk forty miles. Wreaths of Camomile flowers hung
up in a house on St John’s Day will, it is said in Prussia, defend it
against thunder, and Wild Thyme and Marjoram laid by milk in a dairy
will prevent it being “turned” by thunder. The root of Tarragon held
between the teeth will cure toothache, and the name Réséda, the family
name of Mignonette, is supposed to be derived from the verb “to
assuage,” for it was a charm against so many evils. If a sprig of Basil
were left under a pot, it would, in time, turn to scorpions! It is a
strange plant altogether. The ancient Greeks thought that it would not
grow unless when the seed was sown railing and abuse should be poured
forth at the same time. Much blossom on the broom foretells a plentiful
harvest of corn. “Les anciens” according to _La petite Corbeille_
believed that a pot of Gilly-flowers, growing in a window, would fade if
the master of the house died; and similar curious sympathies in Sage and
Honesty and Rosemary have already been noticed.
[100] Folkard.
There is a belief in the West Country that no girl who is destined to be
an old maid, can make a myrtle grow. Mr Friend does not mention this,
but he does tell us that a flowering myrtle is one of the luckiest
plants to have, and it is often difficult to grow; and he generously
presents us with the receipt that he had heard given to make sure of its
flowering. The secret is, while setting the slip, to spread the tail of
one’s dress, and _look proud_!
To transplant Parsley is very unlucky, and to let Rhubarb run to seed
will bring death into the family before a year is out. These beliefs are
still active. One hears also that no one will have any luck with young
chickens if they bring any blossom (of fruit-trees) into the house,
which is, indeed, an unlucky thing to do at any time.
There was a fairly recent case in Gloucestershire, which showed that the
idea still survives that if flower-seeds are sowed on Palm Sunday, the
flowers will come out double.
Though Elder is not a herb, it cannot be omitted here, for every inch of
an Elder-tree is connected with magic. This is especially the case in
Denmark. First of all there is the Elder-tree Mother, who lives in the
tree and watches for any injury to it. Hans Andersen tells a charming
story about her and the pictures that she sometimes brings. It may
happen, that if furniture is made of the wood, Hylde-Moer may follow her
property and haunt and worry the owners, and there is a tradition that,
once when a child was put in a cradle of Elder-wood, Hylde-Moer came and
pulled it by the legs and would give it no peace till it was lifted out.
Permission to cut Elder wood must always be asked first, and not till
Hylde-Moer has given consent by keeping silence, may the chopping begin.
He who stands under an Elder-tree at midnight on Midsummer-Eve will
chance to see Toly, the King of the Elves, and all his retinue go by.
“The pith of the branches when cut in round, flat shapes, is dipped in
oil, lighted, and then put to float in a glass of water; its light on
Christmas Eve is thought to reveal to the owner all the witches and
sorcerers in the neighbourhood.”[101] The Russians believe that
Elder-trees drive away evil spirits, and the Bohemians go to it, with a
spell, to take away fever. The Sicilians think that sticks of its wood
will kill serpents and drive away robbers better than any other, and the
Serbs introduce a stick of Elder into their wedding ceremonies to bring
good luck. In England it was thought that the Elder was never struck by
lightning; and a twig of it tied into three or four knots, and carried
in the pocket, was a charm against rheumatism. A cross made of Elder,
and fastened to cow-houses and stables, was supposed to keep all evil
from the animals. Canon Ellacombe, in the Tyrol, says: “An Elder bush,
trimmed into the form of a cross, is planted in a new-made grave, and if
it blossoms, the soul of the person lying beneath it is happy.” Sir
Thomas Browne takes the “white umbrella or medical bush of Elder as an
epitome of the order arising from five main stems, quincuncially
disposed and tolerably maintained in their sub-divisions.” The number
5, and its appearance in works of Nature, must have occupied his mind at
one time to a very great extent, judging from his writings. There is a
saying that:--
An eldern stake and a black thorn ether (hedge)
Will make a hedge to last for ever.
And it is a common tradition that an Elder stake will last in the ground
longer than an iron bar the same size. Several very different musical
instruments have been alike named “Sambuke,” because they were all made
out of Elder-wood. Elder-berries have also wonderful properties. In
Styria, on “Bertha Night (6th January), the devil goes about with
special virulence. As a safeguard persons are recommended to make a
magic circle, in the centre of which they should stand, with
Elder-berries gathered on St John’s night. By doing this, the mystic
Fern-seed may be obtained, which possesses the strength of thirty or
forty men. There are no instructions as to why or how the desired
Fern-seed should arrive, and all the proceedings are somewhat
mysterious.”
[101] Folkard.
The most extraordinary collection of charms and receipts is to be found
in an old book, called _Le petit Albert_; probably the contents are
largely gleaned from out the wondrous lore set forth by Albertus Magnus.
A charm--it must be a charm, for a mere recipe could hardly achieve such
results, “pour s’enrichir par la pêche des poissons” is made by mixing
Nettles, Cinquefoil, and the juice of Houseleek, with corn boiled in
water of Thyme and Marjoram, and if this composition is put into a net,
the net will soon be filled with fish. Cinquefoil appears in many
spells, particularly as a magic herb in love-divinations, and also
against agues! Some parts of the book shed a lurid light on the customs
of the day, as for instance, recipes “to render a man or woman
insensible to torture.” Here is a less ghastly extract. “Je quitte des
matières violentes pour dire un Mot de Paix. J’ai lû dans le très
curieux livre des Secrets du Roi Jean d’Arragon, que si aucun dans le
mois de septembre, ayant observé le temps que le soleil est entré au
signe de la Vierges a soin de cueillir de la fleur Soucy (Marigold) qu’a
été appellé par les Anciens, Epouse du Soleil, and si on l’enveloppe
dedans des feuilles de Laurier avec un dent de Loup, personne ne pourra
parler mal de celui qui les portera sur luy et vivra dans un profonde
paix et tranquillité avec tout le monde.” There is an odd, little
passage about the supernatural beings who inhabit the four elements,
Salamanders, Nymphs, Sylphs, and Gnomes, and the practices of Lapland
miners to obtain “la bienveillance des Gnomes.” This is managed through
observing their love of perfumes. Each day of the week a certain perfume
was burnt for them and these odours had an elaborate formula, compiled
with reference to the planets. Thus Sunday’s perfume is “sous les
auspices du soleil,” and contains Saffron and Musk; Monday’s is made of
the Moon’s special plants and includes the seed of the White Poppy; and
the ingredients for each are equally appropriate to the ruling planet.
Mars has Hellebore and Euphorbia in his perfume; Venus, dried roses, red
coral, and ambergris; and Saturn, black poppy seeds, Mandrake roots and
Henbane. In an English translation (there are many editions of _Le petit
Albert_) fifteen magical herbs of the Ancients are given, but I will
only quote two.
“The eleventh hearbe is named of the Chaldees Isiphilon... or
Englishmen, Centory... this hearbe hath a marvellous virtue, for if it
be joined with the blood of a female lapwing or black plover and put
with oile in a lamp, all they that compasse it about shall believe
themselves to be witches, so that one shall believe of another that his
head is in heaven and his feete on earth.”
“If ⁂ the fourteenth hearbe, smallage, be bounden to an oxe’s necke, he
will follow thee whithersoever thou wilt go.” The last instructions lead
one to agree with the poet:
“I would that I had flourished then,
When ruffs and raids were in the fashion,”
and when views of mine and thine were less rigid than they are to-day.