The Gipsy prescription, however, goes further. When the victim leaps over the flames he symbolises an immolation that actually takes, or used within recent times to take, place when cattle are bewitched. In the earlier half of the last century a witch was believed to have been burned to death at Ipswich by the process of burning alive a sheep she had bewitched. “It was curious,” says Mr. Zincke, “but it was as convincing as curious, that the hands and feet of the witch were the only parts of her that had not been incinerated. This was satisfactorily explained by the fact that the four feet of the sheep, by which it had been suspended over the fire, had not been destroyed in the flames that consumed its body.” The same writer knew a woman at Wherstead, in Suffolk, who had once baked alive a duck, one of a brood believed by her to be under a spell.[109.1] In 1833 a man at Woodhurst, in Huntingdonshire, was persuaded by his neighbours to roast alive a pig belonging to a litter recently farrowed, all of which with the sow were bewitched. The sorceress was expected to appear during the ceremony, and doubtless to suffer with the tortured beast.[109.2] More lately still, if a correspondent of the Diss Express can be trusted, an old woman at South Lopham burnt one of her hens on a Sunday at noon, about the year 1892, to put an end to a spell laid upon her fowls by a neighbour.[110.1] Unhappily England does not enjoy a monopoly of this cruel prescription. It was certainly known in Germany. One of the directions in some folklore collected at Gernsbach, near Spire, in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, is: “If your hens, ducks, pigs, etc., die fast, light a fire in the oven, and throw one of each kind in; the witch will perish with them.” While it is included by implication in the more general precept obtained at Pforzheim: “If a thing is bewitched, and you burn it, the witch is sure to come, wanting to borrow something; give it, and she is free; deny it, and she too must burn.”[110.2] The same prescription is reported from Franconia.[110.3] At the present day it is usual to wait until the bewitched animal be dead, and then its heart is taken and stuck with pins, and frequently burnt, cooked, or suspended in the chimney. Variants of the prescription deal in a similar manner with other portions of the body. All over the west of Europe this is the course taken; and immigrants from the Old World practise it in Pennsylvania and the Alleghanies. In some countries the ceremony is very elaborate, and great precautions are taken to prevent the witch from entering the house while it is proceeding, or from borrowing anything, lest the efficacy of the counter-spell be destroyed.[110.4] Reginald Scot quotes a direction for grilling the intestines of a beast slain by witchcraft. They are to be trailed unto the house, and not taken in at the door but drawn under the threshold. “As they wax hot” on the gridiron, “so shall the witches entrailes be molested with extreame heat and paine.” The doors must be made fast; for if she can succeed in taking away a coal of the fire, her torments will cease. To this end she will make extraordinary efforts, darkening the house and troubling the air “with such horrible noise and earthquakes, that,” writes an eye-witness, “except the doore had been opened, we had thought the house would have fallen on our heads.”[111.1] Sometimes the animal bewitched is shot, or it is deemed enough to beat it, or to fumigate it with herbs, or, among the Poles, with the ashes of a young snake caught on the festival of the Annunciation.[111.2] In Germany, when a cow’s milk has been taken away by a witch, the animal’s nostrils are burnt with a hot iron and its name is changed.[111.3] The milk or urine of a bewitched animal is beaten, pricked with a fork, cooked in a pot with pins and needles, or nails, or poured on the dunghill.[111.4] When the milk only is affected, so that butter cannot be made, it is common to beat it, or thrust a red-hot poker into the churn, or to beat the churn. A farmer in the State of Vermont, who had churned nearly all day without making butter, “loaded his musket and fired the whole charge into the churn,” saying that “the witches had got into it.” The result was satisfactory, for shortly afterwards the butter came; but what was the effect of the shot upon the witches we are not told.[112.1]
A bewitched person is treated in precisely similar ways. The Abipones pulled out the heart and tongue of a dead man, boiled them, and gave them to a dog to devour, so that the author of his death might die too.[112.2] Among the Masurs it is believed that if a person killed by witchcraft be buried with the feet up, the guilty witch will be discovered; for she cannot endure it, and must come to put the bier in the proper position.[112.3] As an example of simulated destruction, like that in the Gipsy counter-spell above quoted, we may cite the treatment of a “heart-grown” child at Stamfordham, in Northumberland, given by Mr. Henderson. The puny patient is brought before sunrise “to a blacksmith of the seventh generation, and laid naked on the anvil. The smith raises his hammer as if he were about to strike hot iron, but brings it down gently on the child’s body.” This is done thrice, and the child, though overlooked or otherwise bewitched, is sure to thrive from that day.[112.4] In Suffolk, blood, hair and nails from the victim were simmered, or fried. The witch was expected to come and knock at the door, which in all such cases is fast shut, and ask to borrow something. If denied, she would die.[112.5] Anne Baker, one of the confederates of the sisters Flower, being examined concerning a child of Anne Stammidge whom she was suspected of having bewitched to death, gave most damnatory evidence against herself. She was charged “that upon the burning of the haire and the paring of the nailes of the said childe, the said Anne Baker came in and set her downe, and for one houre’s space coulde speake nothing”; and she confessed “shee came into the house of the said Anne Stammidge in great paine, but did not know of the burning of the haire and nailes of the said childe, but saith she was so sick that she did not know whither she went.”[113.1] A French writer a few years before this case recorded the means taken by a Fleming who suffered from sorcery. He cut his nails of hands and feet, threw them into a pot of fresh water, and at night before he went to bed he put the pot on the fire and cast in four large needles. When the water began to boil, the witch could not resist coming to his house, for the needles pricked her like spurs. She threw herself on his bed, but he threatened her with sword and dagger; and other persons rushing in to his help she fled in the form of a cat.[113.2] A mother and child at Spickendorf, in Prussia, who were bewitched, were fumigated with nine kinds of wood, and the straw was taken out of the cradle and thrust into the kitchen-furnace, where no fire had been lighted for four weeks. A clear flame immediately burst forth and burnt the straw. The witch came to the house and tried to get in; but as the door was fastened she tried in vain. The end of this tale ought to be the witch’s death and the recovery of her victims. Unfortunately, however, it was the child who died; and everybody said that the wise man who directed the ceremony was called in too late for the fumigation to be effectual.[113.3]
Not merely the blood, hair and nails are dealt with: the remedy often lies in the exuviæ of the person bewitched. Preservation of the urine in a closed vessel was prescribed when the patient was afflicted by a witch in the shape of a nightmare. This was sure to bring the sorceress to the house, for she would be unable to make water until the vessel was opened. The prescription was, and still is, a favourite in the Low Countries, and that not merely for nightmares. Sometimes, there and elsewhere, it is considered necessary to boil the contents of the vessel, or at least to hang it in the chimney, a course which adds greatly to the witch’s torments. An old English recipe directs the urine to be baked with meal into a cake.[114.1] On the island of Lesbos a portion of the sufferer’s dress, or of the threshold of the house where he dwells, is burnt to free him from the spell.[114.2] In Italy it is usual to boil the clothes of a bewitched child, sometimes taking the precaution of sticking a long fork into them now and again during the process. The child will recover and the witch will die. At Venice it is believed that the witch will present herself and ask for salt; if it be given, the counter-charm is destroyed.[114.3] It is generally believed, indeed, that sooner or later she will be compelled to come to the house on some pretext. At Milan, in the spring of 1891, a child was ill with some unknown and obstinate disorder—therefore bewitched. By the advice of a woman who pretended to know something of medicine the parents boiled its clothes. A neighbour’s wife happening to call at that moment out of kindness to inquire after the little one, she was at once attacked by the parents. A raging crowd assembled and pursued her to the church of Santa Maria del Naviglio. There, before the altar itself, she was savagely beaten; her hair was torn out; and, despite the interference of the parish priest, she was finally dragged back to the house of the sick child, and with blows and curses was ordered to disenchant her victim. Her protests of innocence only called forth repeated howls, curses and blows. The whole suburb of the Porta Ticinese was in an uproar; nor was it without much trouble that the military police at length succeeded in rescuing her more dead than alive, and in dispersing the mob. The women who had torn her hair from her head went home and burnt it, running afterwards to see if the child were not cured. They declared they found it somewhat better, and exclaimed: “See now if it is not true that she is a witch!”[115.1]
These cases all seem explicable by the supposition that the witch has united herself in some way with the object of her spells, and thus injury inflicted upon it, by any other hand than hers, will reach and injure her. This is clearly so, for instance, where she bewitches cattle to draw away their milk. There she may be punished by vindictive action upon the milk, or upon the kine producing it. It is hardly less clear where she has, in the shape of a nightmare, appropriated an unfortunate man or animal as her steed; and the same reasoning applies to all the rest. Perhaps it may not be considered an unwarrantable stretch of barbarous logic to regard the casting of a spell as an act of appropriation parallel to theft. Theft, however, like any other act of appropriation, sets up union between the person appropriating, and the article appropriated. Ownership, by the process of thought I have endeavoured already to trace, is in fact union; and injury inflicted upon a man’s property is in a literal sense inflicted on himself.
CHAPTER X.
WITCHCRAFT: PHILTRES—PREVENTIVE AND REMEDIAL LEECHCRAFT.
In the last chapter we dealt with that branch of witchcraft which has been called Sympathetic Magic. There is another branch that will repay a little attention, namely, the composition and administration of philtres. Many philtres are of course potions compounded of herbs and other substances known to ancient pharmacopœia. They are believed to have an effect partly inherent, partly conferred by spells. It is probable, indeed, that all medicine has arisen out of witchcraft, in the same way as chemistry, the true science, has emerged from alchemy, the false, and astronomy from astrology. Witchcraft, alchemy and astrology are all related by very close ties. They are the practical application of early beliefs and speculations growing out of one and the same theory of the universe. So far as I know, the history of the evolution of medicine from witchcraft has not received the attention which the corresponding evolution of chemistry and astronomy has had; but it is not less interesting, and in some respects it is even more surprising. Among love-potions made of herbs or of portions of the lower animals it is often difficult, or impossible, to estimate how far the virtue of the dose is conceived to be inherent in the ingredients, and how far it is conferred by spells or other observances with which it is concocted. Sometimes the inherent virtue seems to preponderate; at other times the spell. In extreme cases on the one hand the spells are absent, or are reduced to the simple direction to cull the materials at a certain time, as in the case of the Gipsy philtre consisting of the bones of a green frog powdered and mixed with cantharides and a well-sweetened dough, and baked into a cake. Here the frog must be caught on Saint John’s day, put into a pot having holes in the sides, and sunk into an ant-hill until the ants have picked the bones clean.[118.1] On the other hand, the ingredients are almost disregarded, and the spell it is that is relied on. So a philtre reported by M. Laisnel de la Salle consists, like the other, of a little cake, of whose substance we are told nothing. Its power is obtained by being placed under the altar-cloth, so that the priest unwittingly says mass and sheds his benediction over it.[118.2]
Our present business, however, is not with philtres like these, but rather with such as operate in a manner similar to the charms described in the previous chapter, founded, as I am endeavouring to show, upon the belief that portions of the body, though outwardly severed, are still in some secret physical connection with one another. In the Mark of Brandenburg a maiden causes the object of her affections to fall in love with her if she give him one of her hairs in his food, or a third person can compel a youth and maiden to love by laying a hair of each together between two stones in such a manner that the wind can play with them.[118.3] According to Gipsy belief, love can be awakened by mixing one’s sweat, blood or hairs with the food of the person desired; and on the other hand it can be destroyed by burning these substances.[119.1] Another Gipsy charm, and one not unknown among the Russians, is made by a maiden who burns some of her hair to ashes and mingles them with the drink of the man she loves.[119.2] A Bohemian, or a Wendish maiden, is said to take some hairs from her arm and bake them in a cake for him.[119.3] Hairs are not such enticing food as to be readily eaten: hence charms made of them are likely to fail if this be necessary. It is, therefore, enough to convey them into the clothes of the beloved. A Transylvanian Saxon maid can kindle love if she can contrive this; and if the hairs remain there until New Year’s morning the youth cannot forsake her that year.[119.4] Formerly at all events a similar belief seems to have prevailed in Germany.[119.5] A Gipsy wife endeavours to bind her husband to her by binding some of her own hair among his; but, to be effectual, it must be done thrice at the full moon. For this cause, apparently, a widower on marrying again cuts off on the wedding day his beard and hair and burns it. Spells cast by the dead wife are thus destroyed. If a man wish to bind a maiden to him, he obtains some of her hairs, spits thereon, and hides them secretly in the coffin of a dead man.[120.1] The writer who reports this charm also tells us that a Hungarian lover will secure the maiden by burying some of her hair at a cross-road. The cross-road is everywhere a place only one degree less dreadful than the churchyard; and burial there is doubtless a substitute for burial in the churchyard and committing the hair as a pledge to the keeping of the dead. A traveller in Ireland in the early part of the last century declares that a love-sick Irish youth will thread a needle with the hair of the damsel he covets and run it through the fleshy part of the arm or leg of a corpse, “and the charm has that virtue in it to make her run mad for him whom she so lately slighted.” Some light is perhaps thrown on these practices by the corresponding charm said to be practised by Magyar girls. She who desires to be loved steals some of the youth’s hair and, throwing it towards the moon, utters a prayer for his love and for marriage, “if that can be.”[120.2] The hair is thus given to the moon, both as an act of worship, and that it may be the means whereby the object of worship may, in accordance with the belief discussed in the last chapter, constrain the original owner to compliance with the votary’s wishes. Another Magyar practice confirms this interpretation. The first egg laid by a black hen is carefully blown and laid on the hearth to dry. Hairs, nail-parings, and some drops of blood of the person whose love is desired are then introduced into it, and it is buried in the grave-mound of an unbaptized child. After three days it is dug up; and if any moisture be found inside the egg-shell success is assured.[121.1] Here the moisture seems to be the work of the dead child, and, brought thus into contact with portions of the body of the beloved, it will have its effect upon him. More direct and more in accordance with the cases cited in the earlier part of this paragraph is the superstition (also Hungarian) that a woman who can, after reciting a certain spell, strip quite naked and in this condition steal a lock of hair from a sleeping man, and binding it afterwards wear it in a bag or ring, will obtain absolute mastery over his affections.[121.2] The same result is attained by a Wendish youth who can cut hair thrice from the back of the neck of a sleeping maiden and keep it in his waistcoat pocket.[121.3] Among the charms carried by German settlers to Pennsylvania was one which prescribed as a means of rendering a girl crazy for a certain man, that he should without her knowledge get a piece of her hair and sew it in his coat.[121.4] And the witch in Apuleius’ immortal tale bade her servant bring away for some such purpose the clippings of the hair of the Bœotian youth of whom she was enamoured.[121.5] In Bohemia it is enough to hide the hair under one’s threshold or in the doorposts.[122.1] Farther south the Slavonic youth (the practice may also be followed by a maiden) obtains a few hairs or a shred from the smock of the beloved, and wrapping his prize up in a rag wears it upon his heart. If he wish for her society, all he has to do is to throw it into the fire at new moon, and let it burn: the beloved will certainly come.[122.2] This is the very charm given by the Helpful Beasts in the märchen. An amusing tale is told in Corsica of a youth who loved a girl, from whom he could get no encouragement. So he begged her to give him at least one of her hairs. She sent him a long camel’s hair drawn out of a sieve which hung on a nail in the kitchen. Towards midnight the sieve tumbled down with a great noise and began to roll about the floor. At last it found its way out of doors and rolled straight to the lover’s house, where he was impatiently expecting quite a different visitor.[122.3] A Prussian prescription for securing a maiden’s love is to stick three of her hairs in a split tree, so that they must be grown over as the tree heals.[122.4] In some of the central Brazilian tribes, when a husband sets out on an expedition, the wife takes and keeps portions of his nails or hair, that he may not forget to return; and a woman who desires to win or preserve a man’s love puts some of her nail-parings or hair in his cigar.[122.5] To prevent a dog in Germany from straying, three of his hairs are taken out and laid in the kitchen under the leg of the table; or he is made to eat in a cake hairs from his master’s armpit. To keep a newly purchased cow a handful of hair is cut from between her ears and buried before the stable door.[123.1]
A cake, an apple or a sweetmeat impregnated with the sweat of the giver is a powerful philtre throughout the greater part of northern and central Europe from Cairn Gorm to the Carpathians. Sugar in the same condition is sometimes given in drink.[123.2] Nor can I suggest any better reason for the Hungarian recommendation to a lass to steal meal and honey at Christmas, bake a cake thereout and take it to bed with her for one night, afterwards giving it to the lad of her choice to eat.[123.3] When a spell has been cast upon a Finnish woman to wean her affections from her husband, they may be recalled by drinking of a running stream out of his shoe and throwing the shoe upside down over her shoulder.[123.4] Here too the chief motive seems the same. Among the Pennsylvanian Germans an instance was known by Dr. Hoffmann of a widow who sent a cake, one of the ingredients whereof was a small quantity of cuticle scraped from her knee, to a man whose love she desired.[123.5] The bread mentioned by Burchard of Worms, as made by women and given to their husbands to inflame their conjugal passion, appears to have owed its efficacy to the absorption of their perspiration or particles of skin; and the interpretation is confirmed by the confessors’ manuals formerly, if not still, in use in the Greek Church, where women are accused of the practice of rubbing dough on their bodies, and giving to eat to men in whom they wished to arouse satanic love.[124.1] It is a Negro-Indian, as well as a Belgian, superstition that if you give a dog some bread soaked in your sweat, he will have to follow you to the ends of the earth: he is yours.[124.2] He has eaten and absorbed into his own substance a part of you, and has thus become united with you.
One’s blood is of course a powerful potion. In Denmark the prescription is three drops introduced into an apple or dropped into a cup of coffee, and so consumed by the person intended.[124.3] In Transylvania a girl puts a drop from her left hand in a cake to be eaten by the lad on New Year’s Eve.[124.4] An old recipe in the Netherlands—and one current, with variations, in other parts of Europe—is to take a wafer not yet consecrated, write some words on it with blood from the ring-finger, and let the priest say five masses over it. Then divide it into two equal parts and give one to the person whose love is to be won, retaining the other half oneself. Many a chaste maiden has been fordone by this means.[124.5] Blood, as well as hair and sweat, is an approved philtre among the Danubian Gipsies both for inward and outward application. A bride and bridegroom of the northern stock, before setting out for their wedding, smear the soles of their left feet with one another’s blood. And a bride of the southern stock, or a bride of the Serbian Gipsies, will seek on her wedding night to smear unobserved a drop of blood from her left hand in her husband’s hair, in order that he may be true to her. Gipsies also give their blood to their cattle and dogs to prevent them from being stolen, or perhaps from straying.[125.1] Among the Magyars, if a girl can smear the warm blood of the little finger of her left hand in a lad’s hair, he must always be thinking of her; and a man who can induce his wife unwittingly to eat his name written in his blood can thus assure her fidelity.[125.2] A maiden who can get some of a youth’s blood unknown to him and rub it on the soles of a corpse binds him to her for ever.[125.3] But, alike in Esthonia, in Denmark, in Germany and in Italy, in Scotland, in the valley of the Danube, and, if we may trust the confessors’ manuals just cited, in the Balkan peninsula, a woman regards her menstruous blood as the most effective: an opinion rife, too, among the mixed population of central Brazil.[125.4] Conversely, the other sex has its peculiar product, which is equally esteemed;[125.5] while the impurer issues of the body common to both sexes are also made use of.[126.1] Students are referred to the authorities below-cited for details.
Saliva is also a favourite fluid. I have already mentioned some applications of it. In Hungary it often supplies the place of blood.[126.2] Gipsy girls in the valley of the Danube steal some of the hair of their beloved, boil it down to a pap with quince-kernels and a few drops of their own blood taken from the little finger of the left hand. They chew this pap, repeating a charm, and then smear it on the raiment of the youth, in order that he may find no rest, unless with the maid who has thus bespelled him.[126.3] Or a blade of grass gathered on Saint George’s Day before sunrise is held in the mouth while a spell is muttered; and it is then placed in the food of the person whose affection is sought.[126.4] In the early part of this century rustic lovers in France were said to seal their troth by spitting into one another’s mouths.[126.5] Signor Gigli reports a curious custom at Taranto, the origin and significance whereof are not clear to him, but perhaps may be explained by the practices we are now considering. A young man announces his love by prowling about under the windows of the fair one. She easily understands what he means, and, if averse to the match, withdraws inside the house. On the other hand, if desirous of encouraging her suitor, she leans out and spits on his happy head.[127.1] Among the Cherokees a young and jealous bridegroom watches his bride until she sleeps, when he begins to chant: