DETACHED PREJUDICES AND PRACTICES.
Having mentioned the superstitious method used in this country for the cure of the ague, I wish to introduce a short account of some popular prejudices more or less connected with the prevalent religious notions. I shall probably add a few facts under this head, for no better reason than that I do not know how to class them under any other.
There is an allusion in Hudibras to an antiquated piece of gallantry which I believe may be illustrated by a religious custom to which I was sometimes subjected in my childhood. The passage runs thus:
I’ll carve your name on barks of trees
With true love-knots and flourishes, ...
Drink every letter on’t in stum,
And make it brisk Champaigne become.[46]
The latter compliment is paid by sick persons to the Virgin Mary, in the hope of recovering health through her intercession. An image is worshipped at one of the principal parish churches in this town, under the title of the Virgin of Health. The charm of this denomination draws numbers to the sanctuary, which, being in the centre of the wealthiest population, derives considerable splendour from their offerings. In exchange for these they often receive a sheet of printed paper containing at regular intervals the words Salus infirmorum, in very small type. In case of illness, one of the lines is cut off, and, being coiled into a small roll, the patient swallows it in a glass of water.
The room where a person lies dangerously ill, generally contains more relics and amulets than the chimney-piece of an invalid, under the care of a London apothecary, holds phials of all shapes and sizes. The friends of a lady near her confinement, vie with each other in procuring her every kind of supernatural assistance for the trying hour; when, strange to say, she is often dressed in the episcopal robes of some saint, which are supposed to act most effectually when in contact with the body of the distressed petitioner. But whatever patrons the ladies may choose to implore in those circumstances, there are two whose assistance, by means of relics, pictures, or the apparel of their images, is never dispensed with. The names of these invisible accoucheurs are Saint Raymundus Nonnatus, and Saint Vincent Ferrer. That the former should be considered as peculiarly interested in such cases, having, as his addition implies, been extracted from the womb of his dead mother, is perfectly clear and natural. But, Ferrer’s sympathy requires a slight explanation.
That saint—a native of Valencia, and a monk of the order of Saint Dominic, possessed the gift of miracles in such a degree, that he performed them almost unconsciously, and not unfrequently in a sort of frolic. Being applied to, on a certain occasion, by a young married lady, whom the idea of approaching maternity kept in a state of constant terror, the good-natured Saint desired her to dismiss her fears, as he was determined to take upon himself whatever inconvenience or trouble there might be in the case. Some weeks had elapsed, when the good Monk, who had forgotten his engagement, was heard in the dead of night roaring and screaming in a manner so unusual, and so little becoming a professional Saint, that he drew the whole community to his cell. Nothing, for a time, could relieve the mysterious sufferings, and though he passed the rest of the night as well as could be expected, the fear of a relapse would have kept his afflicted brethren in painful suspense, had not the grateful husband of the timid lady, who was the cause of the uproar, taken an early opportunity to return thanks for the unconscious delivery of his consort. Saint Vincent, though according to tradition perfectly unwilling to stand a second time proxy for nervous ladies, is, from a very natural sympathy, constantly in readiness to act as the male Lucina of the Spanish matrons.