Charles Platt, page 20
POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS
BY CHARLES PLATT
HERBERT JENKINS LIMITED
3 YORK STREET ST. JAMES’S
LONDON S.W.I
MCMXXV
CONTENTS
I. WHAT A STRANGE THING IS MAN
II. THE CULT OF THE HORSESHOE
III. NUMBERS AND DATES
IV. ANIMALS
V. FLOWERS, FRUITS, AND TREES
VI. COLOURS
VII. WOMEN, CHILDREN, AND CLOTHES
VIII. MARRIAGE
IX. BIRTH AND DEATH
X. FISHERFOLK, CARD-PLAYERS, ACTORS AND MUSICIANS
XI. SALT
XII. SNEEZING
XIII. NURSERY RHYMES AND OTHER ODDMENTS
POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS
CHAPTER I
“WHAT A STRANGE THING IS MAN”
THAT great scientist, Charles Darwin, used to tell a story against himself. He was arguing with a friend upon that most difficult question: Reason against Instinct. He maintained that Reason should always be able to control Instinct.
They were in the London Zoological Gardens at the time, so Darwin went to the Serpent House and pressed his face against the glass partition that shuts off the poisonous snakes. One of the snakes objected to this apparent intrusion and struck sharply, with outstretched tongue, at Darwin’s cheek.
In spite of himself the scientist jerked his head back, out of a danger that he knew did not exist. He turned at once to his friend and admitted frankly that his earlier arguments were wrong—that Instinct was more powerful than Reason.
It is exactly the same with Popular Superstitions—they form out mental instincts, and for tens of thousands of years, they have swayed our Reason. The great war has somewhat coarsened us and made us less sensitive to danger, but until a few years ago, not one person in fifty would have passed under a ladder. Reason was powerless—Superstition or Instinct warned them that it was unlucky, and that was enough.
If we look back a few centuries, we find that summary Justice was originally content with a handy tree for the purpose of removing a malefactor—as in the case of many recent American lynchings.
But trees are not found in the streets of a town, so our resourceful ancestors used a ladder. This could be erected against any convenient wall, and in any street—the rope was slung over one of the rungs; the offender “removed,” and all trace of the summary administration of Justice was easily cleared away.
As in the case of lynchings, many an innocent man was hanged before trial, and any attempt made by a passing stranger to go under the ladder was resented as an attempt at rescue. All law-abiding citizens made it a rule to keep well away from a ladder when propped against a wall.
There can never be any progress, mental or physical, that is not based upon the experience of those who have gone before. Just as a child is always asking “why,” so primitive man endeavoured to find out the meaning of all the many wonders around him. When he could not explain, he satisfied himself and his children by inventing a “fairy tale,” and it is these primitive attempts at education that form the Popular Superstitions of the ages, many of which are very vigorous to-day.
Without any question, the most powerful impulse in the world—apart from the questions of the preservation of one’s own life and the propagation of the species—is the universal dread of serpents and snakes. Most of these are quite harmless—yet all are feared.
Is there in the whole world a more wonderful sight—for those of us who understand—than a young kitten, about as big as your doubled fist, with arched back and raised tail in imitation of the dreaded serpent, while “hissing” at a big dog, twelve or twenty times as big as that helpless little baby, whose very life depends upon the dog’s superstitious dread of a serpent.
Yes, Doggie’s Reason tells him that it is only a harmless kitten, a mere mouthful, but—well, it might be a serpent, you see, so Doggie decides that discretion is the better part of valour.
In just the same way, we all know that there can be no harm in passing under a ladder—still, you never know! So most of us choose the gutter and go happily on our way.
It may be interesting at this point to explain that the word Superstition comes from the Latin—Super, above; Stare, to stand. Those who escaped in the old hand-to-hand battles were called “superstites”—that is, they were “standing above” the slain. It is therefore a very appropriate word for those primitive beliefs that still stand in the great battle that is being waged by Reason.
It is a curious fact that most of the widespread Suerstitions of to-day have changed their character—
they have survived because they have had new ideas grafted upon them. They remind us of the old farmer who wore “the same pair of boots” for twenty years—there had been new soles, new heels, new uppers, new laces, or course, but they were still the same pair of boots.
Probably the most universal of all Superstitions is that concerning the Horseshoe, in spite of the fact that the metal shoe is comparatively modern. Yet the original belief goes back for millions of years and is based upon the most primitive of all religious beliefs, the veneration of the natural generative principle.
The earliest mysteries that confronted Humanity were birth and death, light and darkness—of these, birth and darkness were by far the strangest. When a person died, he was no further use to the community, and although Humanity wondered, it was seldom afraid of death. The natural relaxation of the muscles causes a peaceful expression upon the face of the Dead, and though mankind did not understand what had happened, they could see for themselves that all was well.
But in the case of Birth, it was vastly different! Here was a problem that must be studied, for they could see the babe grow into the child, the youth or the girl, the man or the woman—the fathers and mothers of further babies, in an endless circle. When gold was first worked, the simple endless band of soft metal seems to have been used universally as the marriage emblem, for the custom is of vast antiquity, and is also practically worldwide.
Yet it is a curious fact that, even to-day, it is still a superstition, for the ring is not an essential part of the legal ceremony, and it is only from custom that the bride wears the riing at all—she need not do it, but very few brides would dare to go against such as universal custom!
Although based upon a very primitive superstition, the wedding ring, the simple circlet of Eternal life, is one of the most beautiful customs of our day.
After all, practically every civil and religious ceremonial is based upon some old superstition. Take for instance the veneration shown to the bones of Saints—this custom is based upon a very primitive blunder. When early man discovered that the bones did not disappear, he came to the not unnatural conclusion that the Self, or Soul, what we should call the Ego to-day, resided in the bones after death.
It has been said that Man’s curiosity is in excess of his capacity, and that can hardly be contradicted.
Not only do we still hold bones to be sacred, but we dread the breaking of a mirror. The original mirror of primitive woman was the local stream, wherein she could see her own moving reflection. The great Scientists of those days could only explain this wonder by assuming that some portion of the Ego was transferred to the water. Consequently an enemy—or a jealous rival—would throw in a stone, in order to break or disturb the image and thus cause harm to befall the original of the reflection.
It is not by any means five hundred years ago since this self-same idea was carried out by the necromancers of the day, who made wax images of the person to be injured, and then stuck knives or pins into the anatomy, expecting in this way to damage the health of the original.
So when we crack or break a mirror, we instinctly dread the ensuing misfortune, because some primitive, and almost certainly naked, woman believed that the reflection in the water was really her soul.
In later centuries, Crystal divining was developed, and this was added to the prevailing superstition—it was asserted by the Seers that the breaking of the glass meant that your Fate was so awe-some that the gods dare not let you see it, and so broke the surface of the glass. This is an interesting case of a superstition surviviing, because of its adoption by a somewhat similar belief— like the old farmer’s wonderful boots.
Apart from the wondrous mystery of Birth, the next strangest impulse of primitive man must have been his dread of the dark. Animals appear to accept light and darkness as natural phenomena, and show their disturbance only when they come at some unusual time, such as an eclipse. But with the development of reason, Man began to wonder why it should turn dark at night. Many were the extraordinary explanations given—including huge dragons that swallowed the sun every evening.
But the dominant factor was always the dread or fear of the darkness, which in those days meant un-ending terrors for helpless Man. Living on the edge of the dense forests, or in caves stolen from some absent beast, the darkness of the night must indeed have been a ghastly time of nightmare! It is well known that a large proportion of young children show this same instinctive dread of the dark, and cannot sleep unless there is a faint light in the room.
In most cases this disappears—or is forgotten—before the child reaches its teens, but cases are known where it has persisted for life! It is no use arguing that there is no more danger to-day at night than in the day-time—the old dread is there!
A very similar example of a persistent primitive terror is the dread of lightning, which is really very prevalent among adults. It dates from the very early da
ys before Mankind had taken to the caves, as a first rude homes. Yet it is undoubtedly a ghastly horror to those unfortunates who inherit the old dread—the extreme terror being due entirely to Man’s lack of knowledge as to the cause, for what could not be explained was invariably dreaded by primitive humans. It is an interesting fact that there is a widespread belief that no one is ever hurt by lightning when asleep!
This simply means that such people do not know at the moment that the storm is raging—hence they feel no dread! A similar belief, not so widespread and obviously not quite so primitive, is the idea that lightning will not strike a house when a fire is burning on the hearth. I knew a delightful old lady of seventy who invariably lighted a fire—day or night, summer or winter—when a thunder storm started. By the hearth she would sit in simple faith! Dear old soul, who could blame her or wish to disillusion her!
Naturally there are many superstitions associated with birth and death, which will be dealt with in a separate chapter. But beyond this ghastly dread of the dark, we find hardly any superstitions—there are a few things that are unlucky if done after dark, but these seem to be based entirely upon physical mishaps. Thus it is unlucky to take eggs into or out of the house after dark! In the days of unlighted streets (and rooms) and of rough uneven paths, it must have been very unlucky to carry eggs after dark!
There are, however, many superstitions connected with stumbling, but these belong to a very different class. They are, in fact, medical in their origin.
Now it is obvious that primitive man had no real power of medical diagnosis—there were only three conditions known: You were well, you were ill, or you were dead! Stumbling was no looked upon as a sign of ill-health, which it really is; yet it is obvious that if a primitive hunter was suffering from
“liver” or “tummy-ache,” and happened to stumble at a critical moment, the chances were that he would not return to the bosom of his family. Like the well-known “young lady from Riga,” he would probably finish the journey inside a tiger.
It is interesting to note that stumbling upstairs is generally considered fortunate, though some people do not actually make this difference. Here agian it is clear that stumbling down would almost certainly mean into danger, whereas stumbling up might lead to safety.
Probably, however, it is a survival of the old law of reversal, which persists to-day in the recognised interpretation of dreams. Primitive Man early learnt to think in couples—man or woman, child or adult, day or night, alive or dead. We find this law in many superstitions, and it seems likely that the good fortune associated with stumbling upwards is merely because it is not stumbling downwards.
As already stated, there was no medical knowledge in those days. If someone was smart enough to discover that a certain plant eased fever, that some leaves were useful in preventing blood poisoning in a wound, that a special herb had tonic properties—well, they kept their knowledge to themselves because it meant an easy life. In just the same way to-day, the vendors of patent medicines do not give away their secrets, but content themselves, as did the Witchdoctors of old, with assuring us that if we suffer from pain anywhere, then theirs is the drug that can heal us.
Now dreams are probably not a normal condition of the brain; they worry us in sleep, when Reason is for a time resting. It is not believed that wild animals dream. We shall probably be safe in assuming that Primitive Man did not often dream, but that when he did, it was a case of nightmare—something supremely horrible.
Now if you were a primitive vendor of patent medicines, you would naturally be chosen by your neighbours when they wanted an interpretation of their latest nightmare. It would not pay you to frighten customers away, and as you really knew nothing whatever about the subject, it was quite easy to make use of the well-known law of reversal. So Man and Woman was assured that all dreams must be interpreted contrariwise, and so it remains to-day, although our dreams have become merely glorious adventures and are no longer nightmares.
In connection with this matter, it might be as well to point out that th ill-luck associated with a falling picture is usually assumed to correspond with the broken mirror—some physical ill to the person whose portrait thus falls. I am, however, of opinion that there is another origin for this widespread superstition—I believe it is associated with the supporting nail, but I will touch upon this in the next chapter, where nails must be considered in connection with Horseshoes.
Before leaving these semi-medical superstitions, I must mention the tingling of ear or cheek.
Obviously there must be a physical reason for this—certainly it is not a daily occurrence, but most of us have felt it in some form many times a year. As a rule, the burning or tingling is in the ear, not the cheek, and is almost always on one side only,
It is usually asserted that at such times someone is thinking about you—which may or may not be true, of course. If the right ear tingles, then the thoughts are kindly, if the left, then it is something unpleasant— another case of the law of reversal.
It is usually held that the Right is lucky, the Left unlucky, and in the same way, the course of the sun was considered fortunate. All strict Mohammedans pass dishes according to the way of the sun, i.e., from East to West. If passed otherwise—by strangers— they politely refuse to partake of that dish.
Similarly it is a firm superstition that you should stir food in the same way, if it is to prove beneficial.
Incidentally I might mention the Irish belief that if you stir with a fork, you will stir up sorrow! No doubt this suggests improperly stirred or prepared food, and consequently a careless wife in addition to an attack of indigestion.
Another example of the law of reversal is seen in the dropping of a knife or a fork— this signifies the arrival of a stranger. Now off hand one would be inclined to associate the knife with a man and the fork with a woman, but the superstition reverses this.
Apart from the questions of birth and death, light and darkness, Man’s next earliest questionings would be about the Moon—not the Sun ! For the Sun we have always with us, although it may mysteriously disappear for a few hours every day. Still man sleeps; so why should not the Sun !
But with the Moon, it was different—fear, deadly fear crept in as Man watched the growth and sub-sequent disappearance of the Moon. Obviously the Moon was alive!
After all, how could it be otherwise with such primitive folk? They could watch the gradual growth of their babies up to full maturity—but there it ended. Now the moon not only grew up with startling rapidity, but he—or she—could “ungrow” again and become young once more. Here indeed was the elixir of life.
But the fables that became associated with the Moon, because of its power of growth, were more of the nature of fairy tales than of superstitions. We have endless legends in every language in the world, but hardly any superstitions. True, it is unlucky to see the new moon first from inside, but this primitive belief almost amounts to homesickness—the craving of the early caveman in his risky shelter, for the greater safety of the open space, which he dare not face at dark of night.
Many of us to-day, in the midst of our busy cities, still feel this almost irresistible craving for the open space. We never clothe it with words ; it is a naked unashamed craving for Nature.
Beyond this craving, the only superstitions connected with the Moon concern her rapid and ever-repeated period of growth. Primitive man held strongly to the belief that any important enterprise should be started with the New Moon in order to ensure success. Journeys were arranged for these fortunate dates, and—very many centuries later—when calendars were first used, they were always eagerly consulted for that most fortunate of all months of the year—the blessed month that contained two New Moons !
The next stage in Man’s progress along the Ages would be the struggle against cold, due to tribal wanderings as the numbers increased. There are not many superstitions connected with nakedness, however, though there are plenty of them concerning dress, which will be dealt with in a later chapter, for the sake of clearness and conciseness.
But in connection with nakedness, there is a very curious and interesting survival, limited to certain isolated districts in its original form. In Russia, much of the country’s prosperity depended upon its grain crop, and when the fields were parched and needed rain, the peasants would harness a nude woman to a plough, which must be driven by two maidens (unmarried women), similarly attired. But after the harnessing, nobody must watch the operations, or no ‘luck would follow.
