A remarkable story respecting the magical quality of fern seed is related by Jacob Grimm, in his "Deutsche Mythologie." It is said to be a popular one with the people of Westphalia. A man, in search of a foal, passed through a meadow on Midsummer's Eve, when some ripening fern seed fell into his shoes. He did not return home until the following morning, when he was astonished to find that his wife and children appeared utterly unconscious of his presence. When he called out to them, "I have not found the foal," the greatest alarm and confusion followed, for the members of his household could hear his voice but failed to detect his person. Fancying he was hiding in jest, his wife called out his name. He answered, "Here I am right before you. Why do you call me?" This but increased their terror. The man perceiving that he was, to them invisible, thought it not improbable that something in his shoes, which felt like sand, might really prove to be fern seed. He accordingly pulled them off, and as he scattered the grains on the floor resumed his visibility to the eyes of his astounded family.
In an ancient "Calendar of the Romish Church," the 23rd June, the vigil of the nativity of John the Baptist, is stated to be prolific in supernatural phenomena. Amongst others we are informed that "waters are swum in during the night, and are brought in vessels that hang for the purposes of divination;" that "fern is in great estimation with the vulgar, on account of its seed." We are further informed that "herbs of different kinds are sought with many ceremonies." Monsieur Bergerac, in his "Satyrical Characters," translated "out of the French, by a Person of Honour," in 1658, makes a magician of the period enumerate amongst his many powers and duties the "wakening of the country fellow on St. John's eve to gather his hearb, fasting and in silence." Brand says that "a respectable countryman, at Heston, in Middlesex," had stated to him that he had often been "present at the ceremony of catching the fern seed at midnight on the eve of St. John the Baptist. The attempt, he said, was often unsuccessful, for the seed was to fall into the plate of its own accord, and that, too, without shaking the plant."
Referring to our Lancashire superstitions Mr. T. T. Wilkinson says:—"Fern seed is still said to be gathered on the Holy Bible, and is believed to be able to render those invisible who will dare to take it; and herbs for the use of man and beasts are still collected when their proper planets are ruling in the heavens."
Ceremonies on St. John's Eve are likewise regarded as very potent in matters matrimonial. Bivot describes a party of fair ladies who say,—"We have been told divers times that if we fasted on Midsummer Eve, and then at twelve o'clock at night laid a cloth on the table, with bread and cheese, and a cup of the best beer, setting ourselves down as if we were going to eat, and leaving the door of the room open, we should see the persons whom we should afterwards marry, come into the room and drink to us."
The belief in the power of fern seed in the domain over which Cupid is said to preside, still lingers in various parts of Lancashire. The best story of this class that I have met with, is related by Samuel Bamford, in his "Passages in the Life of a Radical." One Bangle, a Lancashire youth, "of ardent temperament but bashful withal," had become enamoured of the daughter of a neighbouring farmer.
"His modest approaches had not been noticed by the adored one; and, as she had danced with another youth at Bury fair, he imagined she was irrecoverably lost to him, and the persuasion had driven him melancholy. Doctors had been applied to, but he was no better; philters and charms had been tried to bring down the cold-hearted maid, but all in vain.... At length sorcerers and fortune-tellers were thought of, and 'Limping Billy,' a noted seer, residing at Radcliffe Bridge, having been consulted, said the lad had no chance of gaining power over the damsel, unless he could take St. John's fern seed; and if he could but secure three grains of that, he might bring to him whatever he wished, that walked, flew, or swam."
Two friends, Plant, a country botanist, and Chirrup, a bird catcher, agreed to accompany Bangle in his expedition in search of the potent fern seed. Plant said he knew where the finest specimens of the herb grew, and led the way to the "Boggart Ho' Clough," referred to in the preceding chapter. The three worthies assembled on the Eve of St. John, at midnight, in this then thickly wooded glen. As a part of the necessary cabalistic implements, Plant brought an earthen dish, "brown and roof" [rough], Chirrup a pewter platter, which he regarded as "breet enough" for their purpose; Bangle's contribution, which he described as "teed wi' web an' woof," and "deep enough," was "a musty dun skull, with the cap sawn off above the eyes, and left flapping like a lid by a piece of tanned scalp, which still adhered. The interior cavities had also been stuffed with moss and lined with clay, kneaded with blood from human veins, and the youth had secured the skull to his shoulders by a twine of three strands made of unbleached flax, of undyed wool, and of woman's hair, from which also depended a raven black tress, which a wily crone had procured from the maid he sought to obtain.... A silence, like that of death, was around them, as they entered the open platting. Nothing moved either in tree or brake. Through a space in the foliage the stars were seen pale in heaven, and a crooked moon hung in a bit of blue, amid motionless clouds. All was still and breathless as if earth, heaven, and the elements were aghast.... Gasping, and with cold sweat oozing on his brow, Plant recollected that they were to shake the fern with a forked rod of witch hazel, and by no means must touch it with their hands.... Plant drew his knife, and stepping into a moonlighted bush, soon returned with what was wanted, and then went forward. The green knowe [knoll], the old oaks, the encircled space, and the fern were now approached; the latter stiff and erect in a gleamy light.... Plant knelt on one knee, and held his dish under the fern. Chirrup held his broad plate next below, and Bangle knelt and rested the skull directly under both on the green sod, the lid being up. Plant said:—
Good St. John, this seed we crave,
We have dared; shall we have?
"A voice responded—
Now the moon is downward starting,
Moon and stars are now departing;
Quick, quick; shake, shake;
He whose heart shall soonest break,
Let him take.