Grimm remarks that salt is not found in witches’ kitchens, nor at
devils’ feasts, because the Roman Catholic Church has taken upon herself
the hallowing and dedication of this substance. Moreover, inasmuch as
Christians recognize salt as a wholesome and essential article of diet,
it seems plausible enough that they should regard it as unsuitable for
the use of devils and witches, two classes of beings with whom they have
no particular sympathy. Hence perhaps the familiar saying that “the Devil
loveth no salt in his meat.”
Once upon a time, according to tradition, there lived a German peasant
whose wife was a witch, and the Devil invited them both to supper one
fine evening. All the dishes lacked seasoning, and the peasant, in spite
of his wife’s remonstrances, kept asking for salt; and when after a while
it was brought, he remarked with fervor, “Thank God, here is salt at
last,” whereupon the whole scene vanished.[259]
The abbot Richalmus, who lived in the old German duchy of Franconia
in the twelfth century, claimed, by the exercise of a special and
extraordinary faculty, to be able to baffle the machinations of certain
evil spirits who took special delight in playing impish tricks upon
churchmen. They appear, indeed, to have sorely tried the patience of the
good abbot in many ways, as, for example, by distracting his thoughts
during Mass and interfering with his digestion, promoting discords in the
church music, and causing annoyance by inciting the congregation to cough
in sermon time. Fortunately he possessed three efficient weapons against
these troublesome creatures, namely, the sign of the cross, holy water,
and salt.
“Evil spirits,” wrote the abbot, “cannot bear salt.” When he was at
dinner, and the Devil had maliciously taken away his appetite, he simply
tasted a little salt, and at once became hungry. Then, if soon afterwards
his appetite again failed him, he took some more salt, and his relish for
food speedily returned.[260]
In Hungarian folk-lore, contrary to the usual opinion, evil personages
are fond of salt, for at those festive gatherings described in old
legends and fairy tales, where witches and the Devil met, they were wont
to cook in large kettles a stew of horse-flesh seasoned with salt, upon
which they eagerly feasted.
Hence appears to have originated the popular notion current among the
Magyars that a woman who experiences a craving for salt in the early
morning must be a witch, and on no account should her taste be gratified.
Once upon a time, says tradition, a man crept into a witch’s tub in
order to spy upon the proceedings at a meeting of the uncanny sisterhood.
Shortly thereafter the witch appeared, saddled the tub, and rode it to
the place of rendezvous, and on arriving there the man contrived to
empty a quantity of salt into the tub. After the revels he was conveyed
homewards in the same manner, and showed the salt to his neighbors as
proof positive that he had really been present at the meeting. Sometimes,
however, salt is used in Hungary as a protection against witches. The
threshold of a new house is sprinkled with it, and the door-hinges are
smeared with garlic, so that no witch may enter.[261]
The peasants of Russian Esthonia are aware of the potency of salt against
witches and their craft. They believe that on St. John’s Eve witch-butter
is maliciously smeared on the doors of their farm-buildings in order to
spread sickness among the cattle. When, therefore, an Esthonian farmer
finds this obnoxious butter on his barn-door or elsewhere, he loads his
gun with salt and shoots the witch-germs away.[262]
The Hindus have a theory that malignant spirits, or _Bhúts_, are
especially prone to molest women and children immediately after the
latter have eaten confectionery and other sweet delicacies.
Indeed, so general is this belief that vendors of sweetmeats among
school-children provide their youthful customers each with a pinch of
salt to remove the sweet taste from their mouths, and thus afford a
safeguard against the ever-watchful _Bhúts_.[263]