As illustrative of the superstitious use of charms and exorcisms against
animals and reptiles in different epochs and countries, we have examples
from many and varied sources.
The Egyptians used, as charms against venomous serpents, various magic
formulæ inscribed upon strips of papyrus, which were rolled up and worn
as talismans. A specimen of such an one is to be seen among the Egyptian
manuscripts in the Louvre collection. The following is a translation of a
portion of one of these incantations, which invokes the aid of a god to
protect the bearer against wild animals and reptiles:—
Come to me, O Lord of Gods, drive far from me the lions coming
from the earth, the crocodiles issuing from the river, the
mouth of all biting reptiles coming out of their holes.[477]
Pliny recommended a particular herb as an amulet against serpents and
vipers. This herb, to which he gives no less than five Latin names,
appears to be identical with the _Anchusa officinalis_ of modern
pharmacopœias, the bugloss or ox-tongue of southern Europe, a plant now
seldom used in therapeutics.
The Grecians also were doubtless addicted to the superstitious use
of charms against animals, although there is good authority for the
statement that the citizens of ancient Athens did not hesitate on
occasion to accelerate the flight of “ominous creatures, as cats and the
like,” by throwing stones or other handy missiles at them in the night,
a method wholly mundane and natural.[478] And in this connection we may
quote the opinion of the Rev. Father Pierre Le Brun, in his “Histoire
critique des pratiques superstitieuses” (Amsterdam, 1733). The learned
writer remarks that, if it were desired to drive a strange dog out of
one’s room, it would be quite unsuitable to _begin_ with prayer and the
use of holy water. One should rather first open the door and take hold
of a stick, or throw some food outside; and if these and other practical
measures fail, then recourse may be had to supernatural expedients,
provided these have ecclesiastical sanction.
In a treatise against superstition by a French _savant_, Martin of
Arles, published in 1650, it was stated that the friars of the monastery
of Ardennes were wont to boast that no rats could thrive in their
neighborhood, and that this fact was due to the merits of St. Ulric,
Bishop of Augsburg, some of whose relics were deposited in their church.
In this monastery also it had been formerly customary to scatter crumbs
of bread which had been blessed, in places infested by vermin, and the
monks believed that this procedure either caused the death of the animals
or frightened them away.
Thuringian houses are sometimes cleared of rats in the following
manner: Before sunrise on Good Friday morning, the master of the house,
barefooted and in his shirt-sleeves, goes through every room blowing
on a tiny whistle made out of the thigh bone of a rat’s hind leg.[479]
Another curious method of expelling vermin from a dwelling is in vogue
in some portions of the Austrian Empire. Before the dawn of a principal
feast day, one must take an old shoe which has not been recently cleaned,
and lay it on the ground at a place where two roads cross. No word
must meanwhile be spoken aloud, but a _Paternoster_ is to be silently
repeated. The direction in which the shoe points indicates the course to
be taken by the rats in their flight.[480] In the village of Bechlin, a
few miles north of Prague, troublesome mice are thus dealt with: Very
early on an Easter Sunday morning, before the bells have rung for the
first Mass, the peasant matron collects and fastens together all the
house-keys. Then she waits until the first stroke of the bell for High
Mass at noon, whereupon she proceeds to the cellar, meanwhile jingling
the keys vigorously so long as the church-bells ring; when they cease
she retraces her steps, still rattling the keys; and these measures are
believed to permanently frighten away the mice.[481]
Towards the middle of the seventeenth century a great army of locusts
invaded the fields in the neighborhood of the town of Mixco, in
Guatemala. So numerous were they as for a time to obscure the light of
the sun, and to break the branches of the trees whereon they clung; and
they speedily devoured the corn and other crops. Moreover, they covered
the highways and startled the traveling mules by their fluttering
movements. By order of the magistrates, the people of the country
assembled in the fields with trumpets and other instruments in order to
scare away the unwelcome visitors. Idols were brought out, especially
pictures of the Virgin and of St. Nicholas Tolentine. From the country
regions near and far came the Spanish farmers to the town of Mixco, with
propitiatory offerings for the saint, and all brought with them loaves of
bread to be blessed. These loaves they carried back to their farms, and
either threw into their cornfields or buried beneath their hedges, hoping
by this method to protect their crops from the locusts.[482]
The mountain ash, or rowan-tree (the Scotch _roun-tree_), is thought to
have derived its name from the Latin word _runa_, an incantation, because
of its employment in magical arts. Woe to the witch who is touched by a
branch of this tree in the hand of a christened man![483]
Much has been written concerning the folk-lore of the mountain ash,
and it is indeed a powerful rival of the horse-shoe in its talismanic
virtues, though not as a luck-bringer.
But for the protection of cattle from the incursions of witches, not even
the horse-shoe may assume to usurp the rowan’s prestige. Branches of
this favorite tree, when hung over the stalls of cows or wreathed about
their horns, are potent to avert the evil glances or contact, whether
of witches or malicious fairies. And their efficacy is enhanced if the
farmer is careful to repeat at regular intervals the following fervent
petition:—
From Witches and Wizards, and long-tailed Buzzards, and
creeping things that run in hedge-bottoms, good Lord, deliver
us!
Jamieson, in his “Scottish Dictionary,” remarks that this practice of
twining the rowan about the horns of cows bears a certain resemblance to
an ancient custom of the Romans in their _Palilia_, or feast celebrated
at the end of April, whose object was the preservation of the flocks. He
says:—
The Shepherd, in order to purify his sheep, was in the dusk of
the evening to bedew the ground around them with a wet branch,
then to adorn the fold with leaves and _green branches_ and to
cover the door with garlands.
In China it is customary for the Taouist priests to perform certain
magical rites on the completion of a new pigsty, and before the admission
of the animals to their new quarters. An altar is erected in honor of the
Chu-Lan-Too-Tee, or genii of pigsties, and the walls of the compartments
of the sty are adorned with strips of red paper, upon which are Chinese
characters, signifying, “Let the enemies of horses, cows, sheep, fowls,
dogs, and pigs be appeased.”[484]