Part 12

By way of reënforcing beliefs of this particular kind, we find a newspaper writer saying, it is supposed in all sincerity, as otherwise his offence would be unpardonable: “Don’t let us call any of the new ships for Uncle Sam’s navy after the state of Maine. For my part, nothing would induce me to go aboard a new Maine or a new Portland. Like that watch of Captain Sigsbee, which has gone down into the ocean three times, the last plunge being caused by the explosion of the Maine, a superstitious person would prefer to be left at home.” Whether or not the navy bureau shall listen to this plea, and change the name proposed for one of the new battle-ships, we fear that an ineffaceable stigma will hereafter rest upon these two names in the minds not alone of seafaring folk, but of the whole generation to whom the twin horrors which these names recall are so familiar.

Still speaking of ships, I suppose few people are aware that until quite recently it was the custom, when a new ship was being built, to put a piece of money, silver or gold, under the heel of each mast. This custom at once recalls that traditional one of putting coins under the corner-stone of a new building; but unlike that, the former act was in full accord with the prevalent notion that it would bring good luck to the vessel.

I find that some people are strongly impressed with the idea that the month or day on which they were born will prove to them a most critical one throughout their whole lives. Indeed, many strange coincidences of this sort have come to my notice. If a man has happened to have a run of bad luck, he will often tell you that it is because he was born under an unlucky star; if, on the other hand, he has been unusually prosperous, it is commonly said of him that he was born to good luck. So wags the world!

As a fitting pendant to Jernegan’s gold-from-sea-water scheme, Mrs. Howe’s bank, and Miller’s syndicate, all fresh in the memory of everyone, comes the “lucky-box” humbug and its humiliating exposure, as I write. Upon the simple assurance that the possessor of this marvellous box (which could be carried in the pocket) would become instantly lucky, thousands were quickly sold, and the sale of more thousands was only stopped by the prompt intervention of the law!

CHARMS AGAINST DISEASE

“I’ll do, I’ll do, and I’ll do.”--Shakespeare.

Under this heading we shall first call attention to those plants having the alleged power to cure disease or protect from evil influences. But before doing so, we would suggest that the reader turn to his standard or popular dictionary. He will there find the magical word “abracadabra” defined as a charm against fevers.

In former times, the young, unrolled fronds of the male fern were supposed to guard the wearer against the Evil Eye or witchcraft; and were not only worn by the credulous, but also given to the cattle as a charm against being bewitched. Moonwort fern had the reputation of being able to undo any lock, bolt, or bar, or even to draw nails from the shoe of any horse treading upon it; and mistletoe to be a sure cure for the stone.

The roots and flowers of violets are supposed to moderate anger, and to comfort and strengthen the heart--hence the significant name of heartsease.

St.-John’s-wort is still gathered in some parts of the Old Country on the Eve of St. John the Baptist, and hung out over the windows and doors, in accord with the ancient superstition that it would keep out all evil spirits, and shield the inmates from storms and other calamities.

The belief associated with holly, now so generally used for Christmas decoration, comes from Pliny, who writes that “the branches of this tree defend houses from lightning, and men from witchcraft.” The common mullein was also held to have potency against hurts inflicted by wild beasts, or any evil coming near; and, similarly, the mountain ash was considered a protection against the Evil Eye, witches, and warlocks. So, also, a sea-onion was often hung in the doorway, with a like object.

Another charm said to be very efficacious, though the writer has not tried it himself, yet having the sanction of age, is this: “Against a woman’s chatter, taste at night, fasting, the root of a radish; on that day the chatter cannot harm thee.”

Many of the myths concerning plants still exist in a modified form among us, although it is no doubt true that most people who decorate their houses with evergreens and holly at Christmastide are ignorant of the mysticism they so innocently perpetuate. Yet the Puritan fathers of New England were as utterly opposed to the decorating of houses of worship with “Christmas Greens,” as to the observance of the day itself. Could they but revisit the scenes of their earthly labors during that season of unstinted festivity and good cheer, when man’s heart is so warmed through the medium of his stomach, how shocked they would be to see

“Gilt holly with its thorny pricks, And yew and box, with berries small, These deck the unused candlesticks, And pictures hanging by the wall.”

Beyond a doubt, most of the long-standing beliefs, touching the remedies for this or that ailment, belong to a time when the services of a skilled physician or surgeon were not to be had for love or money, or medical aid be instantly summoned to the sick man’s bedside by telephone. This was especially true of the sparsely settled parts of the country, where every prudent housewife laid in a stock of roots and herbs against sickness in the family. Some of what nowadays are called “popular remedies,” are found in Josselyn’s “Rarities.” Here are a few of them:--

“The skin of a hawk is good to wear on the stomach for the pain and coldness of it. Lameness (or rheumatic pains) may be cured by lying on a bearskin. Seal oil being cast upon coals will bring women out of their mother fits.” The white cockle-shell was very good to stanch blood. For a rattlesnake bite, “their hearts swallowed fresh, is a good antidote against their Venom, and their liver (the Gall taken out) bruised and applied to their Bitings is a present Remedy--” a clear proof, it seems to us, that the theory of similia similibus curantur, did not originate with Dr. Koch, or even with the justly eminent Professor Pasteur.

But even the wonderful advance made by medical science is powerless to eradicate the superstitions concerning disease, which live and thrive in spite of progress, like the noxious weeds that baffle all the farmer’s vigilance. Then, there is a considerable constituency who, after making a trial of the regular school of medicine, to no avail, naturally fall back upon the flotsam and jetsam of bygone times, as a drowning man is said to grasp at a straw. As regards the former statement it may be asserted, as of personal knowledge, that inherited diseases, such as humors, scrofula, fits and the like, and even birthmarks, in many parts of the country, are still looked upon and talked about, not as a misfortune, but as a visitation upon the family so afflicted. I once heard one of these unfortunates described as “that fitty man.”

The advent of Sirius, or the dog-star, was formerly supposed to exert an occult influence upon poor humanity. In that critical season all people were advised to look carefully to their diet, to shun all broiled, salted, and strong meats, and to drink small beer and such other liquors as aids to digestion.

As touching those natural objects having reputed curative properties or virtues, perhaps the common horsechestnut is the most familiar, for the widespread belief in its power to charm away the rheumatism. Several gentlemen of my acquaintance habitually carry this magical nut on their persons, and one was actually found in the pocket of a drowned man while this chapter was being written. Yet I have known those who preferred the potato. A gentleman to whom I happened to mention the subject one day, to my profound surprise, immediately drew forth a healthy-looking tuber of a large size, which he emphatically asserted to be the only thing that had ever relieved a severe attack of rheumatism. I have also known nutmegs to be perforated, and hung round the neck, for a similar purpose.

Wearing eel-skin garters is also more or less practised as a cure for the same complaint.

Putting sulphur in the shoes is also highly commended as a cure for rheumatism. I have known the same thing done as a preventive against an attack of grippe.

Plain or galvanized iron finger rings are also worn for their supposed property to cure the rheumatism.

Another well-to-do business man gravely assured me that a nutmeg, suspended round the neck by a string, was a sure cure for boils “--and no mistake about it--” and strongly urged giving it a trial.

Corns and warts likewise are cured by carrying a horsechestnut on the person. Another way is to rub the wart with a copper coin, throwing the coin away immediately after. The person picking it up transfers the fungus to himself. Still another way is to first stick a pin in the wart, then to go and stick the same pin into an apple tree, though in England they say it must be an ash. The notion that such things were “catching” seems to have suggested, in a way to be easily understood, the theory of disease transference, to common folk. With this view a puppy is sometimes put into the same bed with a sick child, in the belief that the sickness will pass from the child to the puppy, while both are asleep. A case, in which this remedy was tried, came to my knowledge very recently.

To return to the subject of warts, some countryfolk highly recommend making the sign of the cross against the chimney-back with a piece of chalk, asserting that, as soon as the mark is covered with soot, the warts will go away. Others, equally skilled in this sort of cures, contend that if you steal some beans, and secretly bury them in the ground the disagreeable excrescences will leave you. Should all else fail you must then sell your warts or corns to somebody. Who’ll buy? Who’ll buy?

Should you have a decayed tooth extracted, the molar must instantly be thrown into the fire, or you will surely have a cat’s tooth come in its place. To dream of losing your teeth is, by many, considered a sure sign of coming trouble. Jet, powdered and mixed with wine, was once thought to be a sure remedy for the toothache.

Wearing a caul is a sure protection against drowning.

One must not kiss a cat; the doing so will expose one to catch some disease.