shrine, appear from time to time in the Canadian newspapers. One of
these relates, as a matter of news, that “a young girl named Marie
Levesque, who had only walked with difficulty during the last two
years, with the aid of crutches, was radically cured. The second case
was that of a young Irish lad, who, on returning from the church to
the boat which was to take him to Quebec, suddenly threw away his
crutch, exclaiming to one of his companions as he did so, ‘Oh! I forgot
to leave my crutch in the church.’ ‘But you will want it again,’ was
the reply. ‘No, not at all: I have no longer any use for it.’ And with
that, he began walking about the deck, to all appearance as well as
ever.”
In addition to these cases, which come to us through reputable sources,
the _Quebec Gazette_ records the following: “A man named Renaud, who
accompanied the party from St. James’ parish on Saturday, and who for
three years has had one side of his body completely paralyzed, was able
on Sunday to walk out of church leaning on the arm of his brother. A
farmer named Moulin, from Laprairie, who has been deaf for five years,
fell on the floor apparently senseless, just as the officiating priest
was pronouncing the benediction. He declared that when the priest
raised his hands he could feel a touch upon his ear, and at the same
moment, hearing the low tones of the Holy Father, fainted away from
excess of joy. He is said to have been in perfect possession of his
sense of hearing on his return home. Another man, who had lost his
sight through an attack of typhoid fever a year and a half ago, states
that immediately after crossing himself with the holy water he was well
able to see all that was going on. His name is Bruneau, and he is a
Lavaltrie farmer.”
The following cure for the croup was communicated to me by a very
respectable farmer now deceased. After talking of various remedies for
this dreaded scourge to young children, my informant observed that he
knew a sure cure for it. Said he: “Take a live chicken, cut it open and
take out the gizzard. Throw that into a basin of cold water and let it
stay there. I know, for I’ve seen it tried; but the chicken must be
alive after the operation.”
Of a like nature was the advice given to a poor country woman who was
dying of consumption, by one of those female charlatans who have so
legitimately replaced the fearsome witch doctors of the past. The
patient was told that if she would swallow a live frog daily it would
cure her. Poor creature! she had half the boys in the village catching
frogs for her, and kept them in a tub in the cellar, where they could
be handy. The treatment proved too heroic. She died.
It is a fact that touching for the King’s Evil has been practised
in New England as late as 1815, perhaps even later. By far the most
remarkable instance of the possession of this power that has been
recorded upon what seems like incontrovertible evidence, is that of
Lieutenant William Robbe of Peterborough, New Hampshire.[15] One
feature of his treatment, which no doubt served to draw many clients
to him, was the practice of giving to each afflicted person a piece
of silver. In fact, so many applied that the lieutenant was seriously
interrupted in his legitimate occupations.
A Doctor Young, who in the account referred to is described as having
been an eminent practitioner for more than forty years in the town, is
said to have declared that infants afflicted with scrofulous diseases,
tumors and the like, too obstinate to yield to medical aid, did
unquestionably receive almost immediate relief from the healing hand of
Lieutenant Robbe.
The wonderful healer continued to practise his semi-miraculous
treatment until he was no longer able to raise his hands, but even
then, so eager were the applicants, many of whom came from a distance,
not to be disappointed, that the feeble hands were lifted for him to
the sufferer’s head.
In “Supernaturalism in New England,” Mr. Whittier speaks of one Austin,
a New Hampshire Quaker, who practised mental healing in his day. Those
who were unable to visit him were treated by letter. In truth, there is
no new thing under the sun.
[Illustration]
VII
OF FATE IN JEWELS
What are the supposed attributes of certain precious stones but another
form of superstition? According to the popular lore on this subject,
each gem has its peculiar virtue or virtues, with which the credulous
owner becomes forthwith invested. Authorities differ so much, however,
in regard to this mystical language that there cannot be said to be
any settled standard of meaning. If, therefore, we refer only to such
precious stones as have some superstition attached to them, we shall do
all that comes within the range of our present purpose.
In “A Lover’s Complaint,” Shakespeare sets forth, as understood in his
day, “Each stone’s dear nature, worth, and quality.”
We accept, therefore, without reserve, as a starting point his _dictum_
that--
“paléd pearls, and rubies set in blood”
indicated two extremes of passion, namely, shrinking modesty and bold
desire. He then goes on to describe the other symbolical gems thus:--
“The diamond, why, ‘twas beautiful and hard,
Whereto his invised properties did tend;
The deep green emerald in whose fresh regard
Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend;
The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend
With objects manifold.”
Those interested in the sale of gems have observed that most precious
stones have their brief day of popular favor, regardless of any
superstition connected with them. In other words, the popularity
of certain jewels chiefly depends upon the public taste, for the
time being. And the demand, therefore, fluctuates according as the
particular stone is fashionable or unfashionable.
It would require a volume to give the subject fair treatment, so
long is the list, and so abundant the material. Hardly a week goes
by, however, in which some reference to the good or evil influence
of this or that gem is not set forth in the public press, supported,
too, by such an array of circumstantial evidence as to give color and
authenticity to the story. The opal and the moonstone are the gems most
often figuring in these tales. By turns the opal has borne a good and
bad reputation; by turns it has been as fashionable as its rare beauty
would seem of right to bespeak for it; and then again, owing to popular
caprice or the sudden revival of some antiquated superstition, it has
laid neglected in the jewellers’ drawer for years.
The notion that the opal brings misfortune to the wearer is
comparatively modern. Formerly, it was believed to possess great
virtues as a talisman. In Ben Jonson’s “New Inn,” Ferret says:--
“No fern seed in my pocket; nor an opal
Wrapt in bay-leaf, in my left fist, to charm
Thine eyes withal.”
In Jonson’s and Shakespeare’s time, the opal was justly prized for
its quick changes of color, exhibiting, as it does, almost all of the
hues of the rainbow in rapid succession. It is quaintly described in
an account of that day as “a precious stone of divers colors, wherein
appeareth the fiery shining of the carbuncle, the purple color of the
amethyst, and the green shew of the emerald, very strangely mixed.”
Quite naturally, dealers in gems have no patience with those
superstitions unfavorable to the sale of their wares, although they
show no particular dislike toward those of a different nature, if their
sales are thereby increased. So when a customer asks for something
synonymous with good luck, the obliging dealer usually offers him a
moonstone, and after a little chaffering the buyer departs, possessed
of a duly authenticated amulet, or charm. Agate is another stone
having, by common fame, the property of insuring long life, health,
and prosperity to the wearer. The present Emperor of Germany is said,
on good authority, to affect this stone. Now the ancient magician, who
sold charms and love-philters to love-lorn swains, did no more than
this, with the difference that he pretended to endow his nostrums with
their supernatural powers by his own arts.
Indeed, the very word “charms” so innocently given to a bunch of
jingling objects dangling from the belt or watch-chain, is itself
indicative of a superstitious origin, to say the least.
As an example of the change wrought by the tyrant fashion in the
supposed attributes of certain gems, the ruby was formerly considered
the correct thing for an engagement ring, but that stone is now almost
wholly superseded by the diamond for that highly interesting event;
though the ruby continues to be regarded as a valuable gift upon
other occasions, and if of a fine quality, is much more costly than a
diamond. Very possibly the familiar Biblical phrase, “for her price
is far above rubies,” spoken of the truly virtuous woman in Proverbs,
may have suggested the peculiar fitness of this gem in a promise of
marriage. If so, we can only regret the substitution.
Perhaps the most plausible explanation given for the present popularity
of the diamond--it must, however, be a _solitaire_ of the purest
water--is that, as the diamond is the most durable substance known, so
it is hoped that it may symbolize an enduring affection between the
contracting parties. Though in itself nothing but a symbol or sign, the
gift of an engagement ring is considered as evidence in a breach of
promise case, thus showing that the very ancient custom in use among
princes or noble personages of sending their signet-rings with messages
of high importance, to give credit to the messenger, lives on in the
spirit, if not in the actual letter, of the law, as applied to the
sacred pledge of fidelity to one’s promise to wed.
A very conscientious dealer once told me that if a young gentleman were
to ask his advice concerning an engagement ring, he should dissuade
the amorous youth from buying an emerald, on the ground that the young
lady might regard it as a bad omen, possibly on account of its color
which, as we have pointed out, is or was considered unlucky; but more
probably, we think, because the emerald is said to be the chosen symbol
of the “green-eyed monster,” jealousy. An old jeweller readily confirms
the opinion that many young ladies would be unwilling to accept an
emerald at such a time; while still another adds that he never knew of
one being given as an engagement gift. The novelist Black makes use of
this superstition in his “Three Feathers,” as something universally
admitted, “for how,” he naïvely asks, “could any two people marry who
had engaged themselves with an emerald ring?”
Doctors disagree, however, as to the actual properties of this
beautiful gem, as well as in other things, for we find one authority
saying that the emerald “discovers false witnesses, and ensures
happiness in love and domestic felicity.”
In justice, therefore, to this much abused stone, we must declare that
our research thus far fails to confirm the odium sought to be cast
upon it, in any particular; on the contrary, so far as we can find,
not one jot or tittle of superstition attached to the emerald so long
ago as when New England was settled. A learned writer of that time
describes it as “a precious stone, the greenest of all other; for which
it is very comfortable to the sight,” and he adds, on the authority
of Albertus Magnus, that “some affirm them (emeralds) to be taken out
of Griffon’s nests, who do keep this stone with great sedulity. It
is found by experience that if the emerald be good, it inclineth the
wearer to chastity.”
It is therefore highly improbable, to say the least, that this article
of superstitious faith came over in the _Mayflower_.
The turquoise has long proved a puzzle to the most experienced dealers
in gems, on account of its singular property of changing color without
apparent cause. Ordinarily it is of a beautiful blue--about the color
of a robin’s egg. This color sometimes changes to green, and again,
though unfrequently, to white. In relating his experience with this
stone to me, an old friend described his surprise as well as alarm at
having a very valuable specimen, which was “beautifully blue” when put
in the workman’s hands to be set with diamonds, returned to him covered
with a white film, nearly concealing the original blue color. As the
turquoise itself was worth several hundred dollars, it really was a
rather serious matter. The erratic stone, however, was put away in the
safe. When the purchaser called for it on the following day, on its
being taken out of the box, it was found that the true color had partly
returned, one half of the stone being blue, and the other half white.
“And we even fancied” continued my informant, “that we could see the
color change as we watched it.”
This change of color in the turquoise gave rise to the belief that its
hue varied with the health of the wearer, it being blue when the wearer
was in good health and green or white in the case of ill-health, or as
put into verse:--
“A compassionate turquoise that doth tell
By looking pale the wearer is not well.”
As coral is again becoming quite fashionable, we recall that it was
once considered a sure protection against the Evil Eye, and is so
still in Italy, where the little coral charm shaped like the hand,
with the thumb and middle finger closed (a charm against witchcraft),
comes from. It is also a more or less general belief that coral or red
beads, worn round the neck, prevent nose-bleeding, on the principle, we
suppose, that like cures like.
The carnelian, shaped in the form of a heart, was formerly much worn as
an amulet.
The amethyst, as its Greek name implies, is considered an antidote to
intoxication. It has now a formidable rival in the gold-cure. There is
an anecdote of the first Napoleon which affirms that he took a valuable
amethyst from the crown in the coffin of Charlemagne. The stolen stone
later came into the possession of Napoleon III., who wore it as a seal
on his watch-guard. In his will he bequeathed the stone to his son as
a talisman. On making her escape from Paris, in 1870, the empress took
the historical stone with her.
The carbuncle was formerly believed to guard the wearer against the
danger of breathing infectious air. It was also said to have the
property of shining in the dark, like a burning coal, thus investing
it, in the minds of the credulous, with supernatural power. This, be
it said, was an Old-World superstition, which is referred to in some
verses written by John Chalkhill (1649), describing a witch’s cave:--
“Through which the carbuncle and diamond shine
Not set by art, but there by Nature sown
At the world’s birth so star-like bright they shone.”
But strangely enough, our forefathers found a similar belief existing
among the Indians of New England, and what is more, these ignorant
savages were able to convince the more civilized Englishmen of the
truth of it.
According to these Indians, on the loftiest mountain peak, suspended
from a crag overhanging a dismal lake, there was an enormous carbuncle,
which many declared they had seen blazing in the night like a live
coal; while by day it emitted blinding rays of light, dazzling to look
upon. No mortal could hope to lay hands upon this gem, which was under
the special guardianship of the genius of the mountain.
So ran the legend. It is believed to have inspired the earliest
recorded journeys to the great White Mountains of New Hampshire, by
adventurous whites. A reference to Sullivan’s “History of Maine” shows
that the story found full credence among certain of the ignorant
settlers even in his day; and Hawthorne’s grewsome tale of “The Great
Carbuncle” is founded upon this weird legend, so vividly recalling
those of the Harz and the Caucasus.
It is noticeable that, in the matter of superstitions concerning gems,
it is not the common people, but the wealthy who alone are able to
gratify their desires. Everybody has heard of the Rothschild pearls.
The Princess Louise of Lorne wears a ring of jet, as a preserver of
health. M. Zola carries a bit of coral as a talisman against all sorts
of perils by land or water; all of which goes to show that neither
wealth nor station is exempt from those secret influences which so
readily affect the poor and lowly.
[Illustration]
VIII
OF LOVE AND MARRIAGE
“Now for good lucke, cast an old shoe after me.”--_Heywood._
The folk-lore of marriage is probably the most interesting feature of
the general subject, to the tender sex, at least, with whom indeed none
other, in the nature of things, could begin to hold so important a
place. In consequence, all favorable or unfavorable omens are carefully
treasured up in the memory, quite as much pains being taken to guard
against evil prognostics as to propitiate good fortune.
Quite naturally, the young unmarried woman is possessed of a burning
desire to find out who her future husband is to be, what he is like,
whether he is rich or poor, short or tall, and if they twain are to
be happy in the married state or not. To this end the oracle is duly
consulted, either openly or secretly, after the best approved methods.
One of the best known modes of divination is this: If, fortunately, you
find the pretty little lady-bird bug on your clothes, throw it up in
the air, repeating at the same time the invocation:--
“Fly away east and fly away west,
Show me where lives the one I love best.”
All charms of this nature are supposed to possess peculiar power if
tried on St. Valentine’s day, Christmas Eve, or Hallowe’en. Curious
it is that on a day dedicated to All the Saints in the Calendar, evil
spirits, fairies, and the like are supposed to be holding a sort of
magic revel unchecked, or that they should be thought to be better
disposed to gratify the desires of inquisitive mortals on this day than
on another. At any rate, calendar or no calendar, St. Matrimony is the
patron saint of Hallowe’en.
Among the many methods of divination employed, a favorite one was
to drop melted lead into a bowl of water, though any other sort of
vessel would do as well, and whatever form the lead might take would
signify the occupation of your future husband. Or to go out of doors
in the dark, with a ball of yarn, and unwind it until some one should
begin winding it at the unwound end. At this trial, the expected often
happened, as the enamored swain would seldom fail to be on the watch
for his sweetheart to appear. So also the white of an egg dropped in
water, and set in the sun, was supposed to take on the form of some
object, such as a ship under full sail, indicating that your husband
would be a sailor.
Burning the nuts is perhaps the most popular mode of trying conclusions
with fate, as it certainly is the most mirth-provoking. On this
interesting occasion, lads and lassies arrange themselves in a circle
before a blazing wood fire, on the hearth. Nuts are produced. Each
person, after naming his or her nut, puts it upon the glowing coals,
with the unspoken invocation:--
“If he loves me, pop and fly,
If he hates me, live and die.”
The poet Gay turns this somewhat differently, but it is not our affair
to reconcile conflicting presages. He sings:--
“Two hazel nuts I threw into the flame,
And to each nut I gave a sweetheart’s name,
This with the loudest bounce me sore amazed,
That in a flame of brightest color blazed:
As blazed the nut so may the passions grow,
For ‘twas thy nut that did so brightly glow.”
A still different rendering is given by Burns. According to him each
questioner of the charm names two nuts, one for himself, one for his
sweetheart, presumably the mode practised in Scotland in his time:--
“Jean slips in twa wi’ tentie e’e;
Wha ’twas, she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, an’ this is me,
She says in to hersel’:
He blaz’d o’er her, an’ she owre him,
As they wad never mair part;
’Till, fuff! he started up the lum,
An’ Jean had e’en a sair heart
To see’t that night.”
Popping corn sometimes takes the place of burning the nuts. The spoken
invocation is then “Pit, put, turn inside out!”
There are also several methods of performing this act of divination
with apples. The one most practised in New England is this: First pare
an apple. If you succeed in removing the peel all in one piece, throw
it over your head, and should the charm work well, the peel will so
fall as to form the first letter of your future husband’s name, or as
Gay poetically puts it:--
“I pare this pippin round and round again,
My shepherd’s name to nourish on the plain:
I fling th’ unbroken paring o’er my head,
Upon the grass a perfect L is read.”
When sleeping in a strange bed for the first time, name the four posts
for some of your male friends. The post that you first look at, upon
waking in the morning, bears the name of the one whom you will marry.
Care is usually taken to fall asleep on the right side of the bed.
By walking down the cellar stairs backward, holding a mirror over
your head as you go, the face of the person whom you will marry will
presently appear in the mirror.
The oracle of the daisy flower, so effectively made use of in Goethe’s
“Faust,” is of great antiquity, and is perhaps more often consulted by
blushing maidens than any other. When plucking away the snowy petals,
the fair questioner of fate should murmur low to herself the cabalistic
formula:--
“‘He loves me, loves me not,’ she said,
Bending low her dainty head
O’er the daisy’s mystic spell.
‘He loves me, loves me not, he loves,’
She murmurs ’mid the golden groves
Of the corn-fields on the fell.”
As the last leaf falls, so goes the prophecy.
If you put a four-leaved clover in your shoe before going out for a
walk, you will presently meet the one you are to marry. The same charm
is used to bring back an absent or wayward lover. Consequently there is
much looking for this bashful little plant at all of our matrimonial
resorts. The rhymed version runs in this wise:--
“A clover, a clover of two,
Put it in your right shoe;
The first young man you meet,
In field, street, or lane,
You’ll get him, or one of his name.”
In some localities a bean-pod or a pea-pod put over the door acts as a
charm to bring the favored of fortune to lift the latch and walk in.
This is old. The poet Gay has it in rhyme thus:--
“As peascods once I pluck’d, I chanc’d to see
One that was closely filled with three times three;
Which when I cropp’d, I safely home convey’d,
And o’er the door the spell in secret laid:--
The latch moved up, when who should first come in,
But in his proper person--Lubberkin!”
Another mode of divination runs in this way: On going to bed the girl
eats two spoonfuls of salt. The salt causes her to dream that she is
dying of thirst; and whoever the young man may be that brings her a cup
of water, in her dream, is the one she will marry.[16]
If after seeing a white horse you count a hundred, the first gentleman
you meet will be your future husband.
So far as appearances go, at least, the custom of brewing love-philters
or love-potions, to forestall or force the natural inclinations, has
completely died out. From this source the astrologers, magicians, and
fortune-tellers of former times reaped a rich harvest. Many instances
of the use of this old custom occur in literature. Josselyn naïvely
relates the only one we can call to mind, coming near home to us. He
says: “I once took notice of a wanton woman’s compounding the solid
roots of this plant (Satyrion) with wine, for an amorous cup, which
wrought the desired effect.”
Would that the hideous and barbarous custom of administering poisons
to gratify the cravings of hatred or the pangs of jealousy had become
equally obsolete! But alas! the “green-eyed monster” is “with us yet.”