In regard to the luck of odd numbers, the exception, which is commonly
supposed to prove the rule, is the much maligned thirteen.
In the Scandinavian mythology Loki, the Principle of Evil and the chief
author of human misfortunes, accompanied the twelve Æsir, or Demigods,
and was reckoned the thirteenth among them. Moreover, the Valkyrs,
or Virgins, who waited upon the heroes in Valhalla, were thirteen in
number, and from these sources is believed to have sprung the very common
superstition concerning the ill luck and fatality of the number thirteen,
especially in connection with a party of guests at table.
The most generally received explanation of the origin of this popular
belief refers it to the Last Supper of our Lord, where Judas is sometimes
represented as the thirteenth guest. But why Judas rather than John, the
beloved disciple? However, this is the generally accepted starting-point
of this notable superstition. As with the Jews the thirteenth month, and
with the Christians the thirteenth day of the year, which began with
Christmas, were accounted ominous, so, with the inhabitants of India,
the thirteenth year was considered to be of evil import. It is evident,
therefore, that the source of this nearly world-wide belief cannot be
attributed wholly either to the mythology of the north or to the Paschal
Supper.[543]
When the year was reckoned as thirteen lunar months of twenty-eight
days each, the number thirteen, according to one view, was considered
auspicious; but when, under the present method of solar time, the number
of months was reduced to twelve, thirteen’s reputation was changed for
the worse.[544]
In early times the Feast of the Epiphany, which is the thirteenth
day after Christmas Eve, was feared because at that time the three
goddesses, Berchta, Holle, and Befana, with their ghostly companions,
were especially active; and, as a guard against their machinations,
the initial letters of the names of the three kings, or wise men, were
written on many a door.
Of the former trio, Berchta was represented as a shaggy monster, whose
name was used as a bugbear with which to frighten children. She was
intrusted with the oversight of spinning, and on the eve of Epiphany she
visited the homes of the countryfolk, distributing empty reels, which she
required to be filled within a specified time; if her demands were not
complied with, she retaliated by tangling and befouling the flax.
Holle, or Holda, was a benignant and merciful goddess, of an obliging
disposition, who was usually most lenient, except when she noticed
disorder in the affairs of a household. Her favorite resorts were
the lakes and fountains, but she had also an oversight over domestic
concerns, and shared with Berchta the supervision of spinning. Sometimes,
however, she appeared as an old hag, with bristling, matted hair and long
teeth.
Befana, the third goddess, was of Italian origin, and her name signifies
Epiphany. On that day the women and children used to place a rag doll in
the window in her honor. In personal appearance she was black and ugly,
but her disposition was not unfriendly.
So universal has been the superstition regarding the number thirteen at
table, that it has long been a matter of etiquette in France to avoid
having exactly that number of guests at dinner-parties. The Parisian
_pique-assiette_, a person whose title corresponds to the English
“trencher friend” or “sponger,” is also known as a _quatorzième_, his
chief mission being to occupy the fourteenth seat at a banquet.
The ancients, we learn, had ideas of their own regarding the proper size
of festive gatherings, their favorite number of _convives_ being between
three and nine, the number of the Graces and Muses respectively.[545]
Opinions have differed as to whether misfortune were likely to befall
the whole company of thirteen persons rash enough to dine together, or
only the one leaving the room first after the repast. All evil, however,
was supposed to be averted by the entire company rising to their feet
together. It has been wittily remarked that the only occasion when
thirteen plates at table should cause disquietude is when the food is
only sufficient for twelve persons.
At the thirteenth annual dinner of that unique organization, the Thirteen
Club, held in New York city, January 13, 1895, at 7.13 o’clock, P.
M., the custodian delivered an address in which were recounted the
circumstances of the club’s formation. So prevalent was the apprehension
of evil likely to result from the assembling together of thirteen persons
that, when at length the requisite number were seated at table, it was
found desirable to lock the doors of the banquet-room, lest some faint
soul should retire abruptly.
Field-Marshal Lord Roberts, in his “Forty-One Years in India” (vol. i.
p. 24), mentions a circumstance occurring in his own experience, which
affords evidence, were any needed, of the falsity of the superstition in
question. On New Year’s Day, A. D. 1853, Lord Roberts was one of a party
of thirteen who dined together at a staff-officers’ mess at Peshawer, on
the Afghan frontier. Eleven years later all these officers were alive,
the greater number having participated in the suppression of the great
Sepoy Mutiny of 1857, during which several of them were wounded.
In Italy shrewd theatrical managers have found it expedient to change
the number of Box 13 to 12A, and in many streets of Rome and Florence
one may search in vain for house-numbers between 12½ and 14. A gentleman
of the writer’s acquaintance, living in Washington, D. C., sent a formal
petition to the authorities asking leave to change the number of his
house, for the sole reason that it contained the ominous figures.
As an illustration of the popular distrust of the number thirteen among
the villagers of the Department of Ille-et-Villaine, France, may be cited
the following custom, which is in vogue in that district. Children are
there usually taught the art of knitting by devout elderly women. The
little ones are first seated in a circle, and, to facilitate the work, on
the completion of the first round of knitting they are made to repeat the
following words: “_One_, the Father;” at the close of the second round,
“_Two_, the Son;” and so on, as follows: “_Three_, the Holy Spirit; the
_four_ Evangelists; the _five_ wounds of our Lord; the _six_ commandments
of the church; _seven_ sacraments; _eight_ beatitudes; _nine_ choirs of
angels; _ten_ commandments of God; _eleven_ thousand virgins; _twelve_
apostles;” and at the close of the _thirteenth_ round, the children
mention the name of Judas.[546]
This remarkable and unreasonable prejudice against an innocent number
seems to pervade all classes and communities. The possession of
intelligence and culture is no effective barrier against it. Arguments
and reasoning are alike vain. Even at this writing, an evening journal
records that at a recent meeting of a newly elected board of aldermen in
an enlightened city of eastern Massachusetts, one of the members objected
to casting lots for seats because he did not relish the idea of drawing
number thirteen. However, his scruples having been in a measure overcome,
he was much relieved to find that the number eleven, which is both uneven
and lucky, had fallen to his share.[547]
Brand quotes as follows from Fuller’s “Mixt Contemplations” (1660) in
reference to this subject:—
A covetous Courtier complained to King Edward the sixt of
Christ Colledge in Cambridge, that it was a superstitious
foundation, consisting of a Master and twelve Fellowes, in
imitation of Christ and His twelve Apostles. He advised the
King also to take away one or two Fellowships, so as to
discompose that superstitious number. “Oh, no!” said the King,
“I have a better way than that to mar their conceit; I will add
a thirteenth Fellowship unto them;” which he did accordingly,
and so it remaineth unto this day.
Persians regard the number thirteen as so unlucky that they refrain
from naming it. When they wish to allude to this number, instead of
mentioning the proper term, they use words meaning “much more” or
“nothing.”[548]
The Moors, or Arabs, of northern Africa have similar prejudices, whereas
the American negro, ordinarily a most credulous being, appears to be
quite indifferent to the evil influences of the fateful number;[549]
but in Turkey, so great is the popular dislike of it that the word for
thirteen is seldom used.[550]
In Scotland this number is known as the “Deil’s Dozen,” a phrase which
has been supposed to have some connection with card-playing, there being
thirteen cards in each suit of the “Deil’s Books.” John Jamieson, in
his Scottish Dictionary, avows his inability to trace the superstition
to its source, but believes that it includes the idea of the thirteenth
being the Devil’s lot. The number thirteen is also sometimes known as
a “baker’s dozen,” because it was formerly a common practice to give
thirteen loaves for twelve, the extra piece being called the _in-bread_
or _to-bread_. This custom is supposed to have originated at a time when
heavy fines were imposed for short weights, the additional bread being
given by bakers as a precautionary measure.[551]
In certain cases, contrary to the general rule, thirteen is accounted a
fortunate numeral, or even as one possessing extraordinary virtues.
Dr. Daniel G. Brinton, in “A Primer of Mayan Hieroglyphics” (p. 25), says
that in the old language of the Mayas, an aboriginal tribe of Yucatan,
the numbers nine and thirteen were used to denote indefinite greatness
and supreme excellence. Thus a very fortunate man was possessed of nine
souls, and the phrase, “thirteen generations old,” conveyed the idea of
perpetuity. The “Demon with thirteen powers” was a prominent figure in
the mythology of the Tzentals, a Mayan tribe.
According to a widely prevalent popular impression, a brood is usually
odd in number, and therefore it is folly to set an even number of eggs
under a hen. In spite of the falsity of this idea, it is still quite
customary to set thirteen eggs, an even number in this case being
accounted unlucky.
Gerald Massey, in “The Natural Genesis,” remarks that “there were
thirteen kinds of spices set out in the Jewish religious service, along
with the zodiacal number of twelve loaves of shew-bread. There are
thirteen articles to the Hebrew faith, and the Cabalists have thirteen
rules by which they are enabled to penetrate the mysteries of the Hebrew
Scriptures. Thirteen are the dialectical canons of the Talmudical doctors
for determining the sense of the law in all civil and ecclesiastical
cases.”
In England the day of twenty-four hours was formerly divided into
thirteen parts, as follows:—
1. After midnight.
2. Cock-crow.
3. Between the first cock-crow and daybreak.
4. The dawn.
5. Morning.
6. Noon.
7. Afternoon.
8. Sunset.
9. Twilight.
10. Evening.
11. Candle-time.
12. Bed-time.
13. Dead of night.
Recurring now to the prevalent notions regarding the sinister and
portentous character of this number, one may well inquire in all
seriousness whether the harboring of this and other firmly rooted
superstitious fancies is compatible with a deep and abiding Christian
faith. The answer is plainly in the negative. Therefore it is doubtless
true—and the truth should make us free—that the greater our indifference
to the various alleged omens and auguries which so easily beset us, the
more readily shall we acquire and retain a firm and enduring dependence
on Divine Providence.