Luck-bags of red cloth, which contain ‘the four things of good fortune,’ are made by witches in Italy ([43, 287]), who while sewing it sing an incantation. American Negroes brought over from West Africa the art of making ‘luck-balls’ or ‘cunjerin’ bags,’ a practice which is kept up to the present day. They are supposed to bring happiness and success in everything the owner undertakes; one made for Charles G. Leland, at the instigation of Miss Owen ([57, 173]), contained, in addition to knotted threads, a piece of foil to represent the brightness of the little spirit that was going to be in the ball, a leaf of clover in the place of the hair of the one that is going to own the ball, and some dust which was designed to blind the eyes of enemies. Miss Owen got the same man, Alexander, the King of the Voodoos, who made the ball for Mr. Leland, to make one for me, and she informed me that ‘it was made just like Mr. Leland’s with the same words and with the same materials, excepting the clover. This is not the season for clover, so a fragment of paper, torn from one of your books, represents you.’
It is not essential that the object to be operated upon should have formed an actual part of a person, for something associated with that person, such as something habitually worn or used, is sufficient, or as in the case of the luck-ball just cited, the association may be as remote as that between an author and a piece of the paper of a book he has published.
Earth from a man’s footprints, on account of its close contact with the person, has acquired the virtues of a portion of his body. Widely spread in Germany is the belief that if a sod whereon a man has trodden—all the better if with the naked foot—be taken up and dried behind the hearth or oven, he will parch up with it and languish, or his foot will be withered. He will be lamed, or even killed, by sticking his footprint with nails—coffin nails are the best—or broken glass ([30, ii. 78]); but these are also the practices of Australian or other savages. To quote only one example from Australia ([34, 26]), sharp fragments of quartz, glass, bone, or charcoal are buried in the footprints of the victim or in the mark made in the ground by his reclining body. They are supposed to enter the victim, and rheumatic affections are very frequently attributed to them.
Clothes, from their intimate association with the person, have naturally attained a prominent place among the instruments of witchcraft. In Germany and Denmark no portion of a survivor’s clothing must on any account be put upon a corpse, else the owner will languish away as it moulders in the grave. To hang rags from the clothing of a dead man upon a vine is to render it barren. ‘Probably,’ as Mr. Hartland suggests, ‘it is only a different interpretation of the same belief which alike in Christian, in Mohammedan, and in Buddhist lands has led to the ascription of marvellous powers to the clothes and other relics of departed saints. The divine power which was immanent in these personages during life attaches not merely to every portion of their bodies but to every shred of their apparel’ ([30, ii. 90]). An illustrative parallel can be taken from the Pacific. The red feathers which adorned the sacred girdle worn by the Tahitian kings were taken from the images of the gods. The girdle ‘thus became sacred, even as the person of the gods, the feathers being supposed to retain all the dreadful attributes of power and vengeance which the idols possessed, and with which it was designed to endow the king.’ So potent was it that Mr. Ellis says ([17, iii. 108]) it ‘not only raised him to the highest earthly station, but identified him with their gods.’
It is conceivable, as Mr. Hartland suggests ([30, ii. 214]), that uneducated folk might argue thus: if an article of my clothing in a witch’s hands may cause me to suffer, the same article in contact with a beneficent power may relieve pain, restore me to health, or promote my general prosperity. Hence the practice of throwing pins into wells, of tying rags on bushes and trees, of driving nails into trees and stocks, of throwing stones and sticks on cairns, and the analogous practices throughout the world, suggest that they are to be interpreted as acts of ceremonial union with the spirit identified with well, tree, stock, or cairn ([30, ii. 228]). In the British Islands the sanctity of the well or bush was subsequently annexed by the missionaries who took up their abode beside them, and thus we find the wells or trees called after certain saints and the healing power attributed to the latter, whereas the holiness and efficacy of the wells were in the vast majority of cases, if not in all, pre-Christian ([27, 383]).
Objects are worn or eaten so that by induction the individual may acquire their properties. Thus the Red Indian hunter ([70, 131]) wears ornaments of the claws of the grizzly bear, that he may be endowed with its courage and ferocity, and the Tyrolese hunter still wears tufts of eagle’s down in his hat, to gain the eagle’s keen sight and courage. ‘Look,’ writes Casalis ([10, 271]), ‘at those strange objects hanging from the necks of our little black friends. There is a kite’s foot in order that the poor child may escape misfortune with the swiftness of the kite in its flight. Another has the claw of a lion in order that his life may be as firmly secured against all danger as that of a lion; a third is adorned with the tarsus bone of a sheep, or an iron ring, that he may oppose to evil a resistance as firm as iron, or as that little compact bone without marrow which could not be crushed between two stones without difficulty.’
The eating of certain kinds of food, more especially of the flesh of animals, would similarly have a very potent effect; thus among the Dyaks ([65, i. 176]), young men sometimes abstain from eating the flesh of deer, lest they should become timid. The Abipones of Paraguay ([14, 258]) ‘detest the thought of eating hens, eggs, sheep, fish, or tortoises, imagining that these tender kinds of food engender sloth and languor in their bodies and cowardice in their minds. On the other hand they eagerly devour the flesh of the tiger [jaguar], bull, stag, boar, anta and tamandua [ant-eaters], having an idea that, from continually feeding on these animals, their strength, boldness, and courage are increased.’
Belief in contagious magic leads quite logically to various revolting practices. In Torres Straits the sweat of renowned warriors was drunk by young men, who also ate mixed with their food the scrapings from the finger-nails of the warriors which had become saturated with human blood in order ‘to make strong and like a stone; no afraid’ ([29, v. 301]). The eyes and tongue of a freshly killed enemy were frequently torn out and given to lads to make them brave and fearless. The Australian natives believe that a man’s fat and his strength and vitality are connected, therefore the wasting of the body and disease are the result of the absence of fat, perhaps to be followed by death. By eating a man’s fat, and thus making it part of himself, the black fellow thinks that he also acquires the strength of the deceased. So also they think that human fat brings success in hunting, causes spears which are anointed with it to fly true, or the club to strike irresistible blows. The possession of human fat is, therefore, much desired by these aborigines, especially those who feel age or disease, or who wish to be successful in the magical arts, for it is believed that the spirit of the dead man whose fat has been used will help the charm to act ([35, 411, 361]). Cannibalism for magical purposes of this sort has probably been extremely common and is possibly at the base of a good deal of anthropophagy.
Very widely spread is the belief that close relatives or even friends are bound together in a sympathetic relation, which is especially manifest on important occasions or at critical times. When a Land Dyak village has turned out for a wild-pig hunt in the jungle, those who remain at home may not touch water or oil with their hands during the absence of their friends, lest the hunters should all become ‘butter-fingered,’ and the prey so escape them ([60, i. 430]). It is also recorded from Borneo that when men are on a war expedition, fires are lighted at home, the mats are spread, and the fires kept up till late in the evening and lighted again before dawn, so that the men may not be cold; the roofing of the house is opened before dawn, so that the men may not lie too long and so fall into the enemies’ hands ([60, ii. 104]). Again when a Dyak is out head-hunting, his wife, or, if he is unmarried, his sister, must wear a sword day and night, in order that he may be always thinking of his weapons; and she may not sleep during the day nor go to bed before two in the morning, lest her husband or brother should thereby be surprised in his sleep by an enemy ([20, i. 30]). Similar instances could easily be multiplied indefinitely from various savage countries, but even in Europe there are not lacking records of a real sympathy between husband and wife, where the former suffers from certain characteristic ailments of the latter ([59, 240]). There is a very widely spread series of customs based upon the belief that the father and his unborn or newly born child are in such sympathetic relationship that the former has to take all sorts of precautions lest his offspring should in any way be injured. The extreme form this custom takes is for the newly made father to take to his bed and be specially dieted; this occurs in many places, but notably in the East Indian Archipelago and in South America. The custom, which is known as the Couvade, is subject to many modifications, which have been tabulated and discussed by Mr. H. Ling Roth ([59, 204]). Among the Land Dyaks of Borneo the husband of a pregnant woman, until the time of her delivery, may not do work with any sharp instrument, except what may be absolutely necessary for the cultivation of his farm; he may not tie things together with rattans, or strike animals, or fire guns, or do anything of a violent character for fear of injuring the child. Often the men must abstain from certain food lest it should affect the child; thus in Guiana partaking of the Agouti would make the child meagre, or eating a labba would make the infant’s mouth protrude like the labba’s, or make it spotted like the labba, which spots would ultimately become ulcers ([59, 220]). Thus the father is frequently debarred from performing many of the usually unconsidered daily acts, lest they should affect the welfare of a child that is newly born or is about to be born; and there is the curious development of the belief of an occult reaction of the expected child on the father, affecting, to take one example, his success in fishing ([59, 234]).