The _universality_ of the use of the horse-shoe as a safeguard against
evil spirits is indeed noteworthy.
It is the anti-witch charm _par excellence_, as well as the approved
symbol of good luck, and, used for these purposes, it is to be seen
throughout a large portion of the world. The horse-shoe is most commonly
placed over the entrance-doors of dwellings; but stables likewise are
thought to be effectually protected by it, for “witches were dreadful
harriers of horse-flesh.” In William Henderson’s “Folk-Lore of the
Northern Countries of England” we read of a Durham farmer who was
convinced that one of his horses had been ridden by hags, as he had found
it bathed in sweat of a morning. But after he took the precaution to nail
a horse-shoe over the stable-door, and also to hang some broom above the
manger, the witches had not been able to indulge in clandestine rides on
his horses. While many an honest fellow in England and elsewhere is a
firm believer in witches and magical horse-shoes, very few of them can
give plausible reasons therefor.
The Lancashire farmer thinks that mischievous fairies not only ride
horses by night, but drive cows out of the barn, steal the butter, and
eat up the children’s porridge; so he, too, affixes horse-shoes to his
buildings.
Any one visiting the hamlets of Oxfordshire can hardly fail to notice the
numerous horse-shoes affixed to the picturesque thatched-roofed cottages;
and the countryfolk in this neighborhood are not always content with
_one_ of these popular safeguards, for two or three of them are often to
be seen on the walls of a dwelling, invariably placed with the prongs
downward.
In Brand’s “Popular Antiquities” (vol. iii. p. 19, 1888) may be found
a clipping from the Cambridge (Eng.) “Advertiser,” which relates that
one Bartingale, a carpenter and resident of Ely, suspected a woman
named Gotobed of having bewitched him, and of being the cause of an
illness which he had recently had. Thereupon, at a consultation of
matrons of the neighborhood held in his chamber, it was decided that the
most efficient means of protecting him from the evil influence of the
suspected sorceress was to have three horse-shoes fastened to the door. A
blacksmith was accordingly summoned, and
an operation to this effect was performed, much to the anger
of the supposed witch, who at first complained to the Dean,
but was laughed at by his reverence. She then rushed in wrath
to the sick man’s room, and, miraculous to tell, passed the
Rubicon in spite of the horse-shoes. But this wonder ceased
when it was discovered that Vulcan had substituted donkeys’
shoes.
Miss Georgiana F. Jackson says, in “Shropshire Folk-Lore,” that, in the
home of her childhood at Edgmond, the stable-door was decorated with
three rows of horse-shoes arranged in the form of a triangle; and the
grooms used to say that they were placed there to exclude witches.
In this region, too, an old horse-shoe placed above the door of a bedroom
is a preventive of the nightmare.
In Shrewsbury, the ancient county town of Shropshire, horse-shoe
talismans are to be seen not only above the house-doors, but also on the
barges which navigate the river Severn.
In quite recent times a case has been reported of a poor girl of
Whatfield, in Suffolk, who had experienced a long illness, during which
she was visited daily by an old woman who appeared to be very solicitous
as to her welfare. At length the girl’s family began to suspect that
this old woman was none other than a witch; they therefore caused a
horse-shoe to be fastened to the sill of the outer door. The precaution
was successful, so runs the tale, for the reputed witch could never
thereafter cross the threshold, and the girl speedily recovered her
health.[179]
Aubrey, in his “Remains of Gentilisme,” describes the horse-shoe as a
preservative against the mischief or power of witches, attributing its
magical properties to the astrological principle that Mars, the God
of War and the War Horse, was an enemy of Saturn, who according to a
mediæval idea was the liege lord of witches.[180]
During the witchcraft excitement in Scotland, one Elizabeth Bathcat was
indicted for having a horse-shoe attached to the door of her house “as a
devilish means of instruction from the Devil to make her goods and all
her other affairs to prosper and succeed well.”[181]
According to an old legend St. Dunstan, the versatile English
ecclesiastic of the tenth century, who was a skilled farrier and the
owner of a forge, was requested by the Devil to shoe his “single hoof.”
Dunstan, who recognized his customer, acceded, but during the operation
he caused the Devil so much pain that the latter begged him to desist.
The request was heeded on condition that the Devil should never enter a
place where a horse-shoe was displayed.[182] The popular belief is that
his Satanic Majesty has always faithfully kept the contract, and quite
naturally all lesser evil spirits have followed his example.
In Scotland, even as late as the beginning of the nineteenth century,
the peasantry believed that witches were able to draw milk from all the
cattle in their neighborhood, by tugging at a hair-rope in imitation
of the act of milking. Such a rope was made of hairs from the tails of
several cows, whose exact number was indicated by knots in the rope.
While tugging at the rope the witches repeated either the following or a
similar charm:—
Cow’s milk and mare’s milk,
And every beast that bears milk,
Between St. Johnstone’s and Dundee,
Come a’ to me, come a’ to me.
The only adequate protection from such mischievous pranks as these was
afforded by nailing a horse-shoe to the byre-door and tying sprigs of
rowan with a red thread to the cow’s tail. If, however, these precautions
were neglected, the guilty witch might yet be discovered by placing the
“gudeman’s breeks” upon the cow’s horns, a leg upon either horn; and
thereupon the animal, being let loose, was sure to run directly to the
witch’s house.[183]
In many places, certain houses continue even at the present time to have
an evil reputation as harborers of witches and goblins. In these cases it
seems probable that the owners or occupants of such dwellings neglected
to avail themselves of the immunity afforded by horse-shoes and other
safeguards. For no one, we believe, has ever seriously maintained that
evil spirits, who are once firmly domiciled, can be easily expelled.
Familiarity with their surroundings may breed a contempt for amulets.
Certain it is, however, that an ounce or two of iron by way of prevention
is worth a pound or more of cure. When a dwelling is demoniacally
possessed, the devils must be driven out somehow, and for this purpose
recourse is had to exorcisms, and to religious or magical ceremonies. In
the words of the poet Dryden (“Wife of Bath’s Tale,” i. 28):—
And friars that through the wealthy regions run
Resort to farmers rich, and bless their halls,
And exorcise the beds and cross the walls.
In “Antiquitates Vulgares,” by Henry Browne (1725), the writer gives
elaborate directions as to the proper mode of exorcising a haunted
dwelling, and says that the house which is reported to be vexed with
spirits shall be visited by a priest daily for a week, appropriate
prayers and scriptural selections being read. Sometimes magical
procedures supplanted religious exercises, and experts in sorcery were
employed to rid a mansion of its undesirable tenants. The following
advertisement from a London newspaper of 1777 may be appropriately given
here:—
HAUNTED HOUSES.—Whereas there are mansions and castles in
England and Wales which for many years have been uninhabited,
and are now falling into decay, by their being visited and
haunted by evil spirits or the spirits of those who for
unknown reasons are rendered miserable, even in the grave, a
gentleman who has made the tour of Europe, of a particular
turn of mind, and deeply skilled in the abstruse and sacred
science of exorcism, hereby offers his assistance to any owner
or proprietor of such premises, and undertakes to render
the same free from the visitation of such spirits, be their
cause what it may, and render them tenantable and useful for
the proprietors. Letters addressed to Rev. John Jones, No.
30 St. Martin’s Lane, duly answered, and interview given if
required.[184]