Black Cats and Evil Eyes Page 3
For both ancient and modern scholars of sacred geometry exploring mathematical patterns and geometric forms in the natural world, the number thirteen is revered as a basic structural unit within nature and the heavens. There are thirteen major joints in the skeleton, the moon completes thirteen degrees of its orbit each day and there are thirteen lunar cycles in a solar year. The number is also auspicious in Judaism where it is the age of responsibility when a boy becomes bar mitzvah. Usually written as yod-gimel, thirteen is also the numerical value of the word ahava, meaning love. All of which has led some to suggest that our suspicion of the number might have its roots in anti-Semitism.
THE GIFT OF A PURSE OR WALLET SHOULD ALWAYS INCLUDE MONEY
The giving of presents is riddled with risk for the superstitious, since it’s one of the few occasions when our own actions have a direct impact on others for good or ill. According to folklore, an empty wallet or purse received as a gift will stay empty forever, so to give one is akin to cursing the recipient with a lifetime of poverty. The belief is thought to stem from the notion that the Devil would inhabit an empty purse and use poverty to drive people to acts of desperation such as theft, deceit and prostitution that were regarded as ungodly and sinful.
The superstition was strengthened by its association with a saying that dates back to at least the early eighteenth century, which states ‘An empty purse is the Devil.’ The phrase was in popular use in Britain and America throughout the 1800s and can be found in print in an essay written by the pre-eminent American lexicographer Noah Webster, Jr. in 1786 lamenting the weakness of the federal government: ‘It prevents the adoption of any measures that are requisite for us as a nation; it keeps us from paying our honest debts . . . It also throws out of our power all the profits of commerce, and this drains us of cash. Is not this the devil? Yes, my countryman, an empty purse is the devil.’
The same phrase appeared in an 1882 edition of Notes and Queries, a scholarly magazine devoted to the exploration of the English language, history and antiquarianism, and we still use a version of it today. ‘The Devil Danced in Empty Pockets’ is the title of a song by contemporary American country singer Joe Diffie, and the same line appears in Tom Waits’s murder ballad ‘Lucinda’.
To guard against the curse of the empty purse, it was customary from the 1800s onwards to keep at least one coin in a wallet, or, if that had to be spent, a piece of string or twine could be used to trick the Devil into keeping out. Many people still slip a coin, or, if they’re in a generous mood, a note, inside a purse or wallet if it’s to be a gift.
PARTING ON A BRIDGE
If you want to see a friend again, the full version goes, then don’t ever say goodbye to them on a bridge. As with many old-fashioned superstitions, this one confers symbolic meaning on the physical world. Rivers divide bodies of land and the bridges that spanned them were seen as a kind of no-man’s-land, belonging to neither bank and representative of separation. To part company from a friend on a bridge and each to set off for opposite banks of a river was therefore to risk being parted for ever, just as the land had been. The motives for adhering to this custom weren’t simply the mirroring of nature; what really drove their reluctance to part ways over water was their fear of the Devil fuelled by folk tales.
In the legend of the Devil’s Bridge in Cardiganshire, an old woman had become separated from her cow by a deep ravine and the Devil took advantage of her distress by offering to throw a bridge across in return for the soul of the first living creature to cross it. The old woman agreed and the Devil rubbed his hands with glee, delighted that in her panicked state of mind she’d been willing to sacrifice herself, but instead she took a crust of bread from her pocket and threw it across and her dog ran after it, angering the Devil. Similar stories are told in different parts of Europe; on the river Main in Frankfurt it’s a bridge builder who drives a rooster across ahead of him; in Switzerland, the St Gotthard Pass is spanned by ‘The Devil’s Bridge’, named after a legend about the Devil waiting to catch anyone crossing after dark.
These tales have travelled down to us in more and more diluted forms until the accepted wisdom became that crossing any bridge after dark, or being the first to cross a bridge at any time of day, meant running a gauntlet of evil sprites, trolls (incorporating the Norwegian fairytale of the Three Billy Goats Gruff) or the Devil himself. In Marie Trevelyan’s Folk Lore of Wales published in 1909 she writes: ‘Very old people always spat thrice on the ground before crossing water after dark, to avert the evil influences of spirits and witches.’ It became tradition to send an animal over a new bridge before the first human crossed and bridge builders would often leave placatory gifts of money bricked into the stonework. Even today it is still common for a new bridge to be officially ‘opened’ by an important figure in the community and for a bottle of wine to be smashed against its side to ‘bless’ all those who cross it.
OWLS
To the ancient Greeks, the owl was revered for its link to Athena, goddess of wisdom, justice and philosophy. Archaic art often shows the goddess with an owl called the Owl of Athena, or, under Roman rule, the Owl of Minerva perched on her head and according to Theophrastus, writing circa 319 BC, ‘If an owl is startled by him in his walk, he will exclaim “Glory be to Athene!” before he proceeds.’ We still associate owls with wisdom for this reason, although their wisdom also made them a creature to be feared for their prophetic powers.
Roman historian Pliny the Elder, writing in AD 77, believed they always brought bad news and described the bird as ‘most execrable and accursed’. To hear one screeching is described as a portent of doom in works by Chaucer and Shakespeare, as well as in songs and poems passed on by word of mouth. One old rhyme from the southern United States is specific about the nature of the threat ahead:
When you hear the screech owl, honey, in the sweet gum tree,
It’s a sign as sure as you’re born a death is bound to be;
Unless you put the shovel in the fire mighty quick,
For to conjure that old screech owl, take care the one that’s sick.
The owl’s perceived ability to foretell a death stems from the fact that as nocturnal birds, they were associated with night and the sinister spirits that were thought to roam the earth in the hours of darkness. Seeing an owl in daylight is thought to be especially bad luck and if one flies around and around the house it is a sure sign of the imminent demise of someone living within.
There are regional variations in our interpretation of the owl’s call however; according to Welsh legend an owl hooting is a sign that a local woman has just lost her virginity. In Germany, if an owl’s call is heard during childbirth then the child will be cursed with an unhappy life, while in France, a pregnant woman hearing an owl will know that her baby is a girl.
Whatever intelligence they bring, any bad luck associated with hearing or seeing an owl could be counteracted in the Middle Ages by thrusting irons (such as the shovel mentioned in the rhyme quoted above) into a fire or taking your clothes off and turning them inside out before swiftly dressing again. To ensure longer-term protection against the curse of hearing their hoot you could throw salt or vinegar into the fire to give the owl a sore tongue and silence it forever.
NEVER KILL A ROBIN
The robin redbreast, or European robin to give it its official title, is among the most beloved of gardener’s companions. Sociable and bold, they seem unafraid of human contact and are easily tamed, which makes it easy to see why killing one is regarded as wrong. However, our concern for their welfare has roots in Christian folklore. Legend has it that as well as singing with all the other birds to soothe Jesus as he suffered on the cross, the robin also tried to remove the thorns from his head and its feathers became stained with Christ’s blood as it did so. An alternative version of the origins of the red breast tells how a robin present in the stable where Jesus was born noticed that as Mary and her baby lay sleeping, the fire that was keeping them warm almost died out. The robin reki
ndled the flames by fanning them with its wings and was rewarded with its red breast by Mary when she woke, in recognition of its devotion.
Both versions cast the robin as good-hearted and selfless and secured the bird its place as a folklore favourite. A rhyme featuring the robin from a collection of poems, songs and fables for children, A Poetical Description of Songbirds published in the US in 1773, sums up the esteem in which they were held: ‘The robin and the jenny wren, are God Almighty’s little cock and hen.’ A similar sentiment is conveyed in William Blake’s Auguries of Innocence by the familiar lines ‘A robin redbreast in a cage,/Puts all heaven in a rage.’
Fear of ‘heaven’s rage’ meant that most country people regarded it as extremely unlucky to kill a robin, even by accident. The repercussions for doing so vary from place to place but all are severe; some say the hand that snuffs out a robin’s life will shake forever after, in Irish folklore a large, painful lump is said to appear on the right hand of anyone guilty of the sin, while in Yorkshire, it is thought that if a farmer is responsible for a robin’s death, the milk his cows produce will turn the colour of blood.
NEVER KILL A SWALLOW
In the suburban areas of modern towns, swallows are often regarded as a nuisance. In Britain, swallows and their nests are fully protected under the Wildlife and Countryside Act of 1981, which makes it an offence to intentionally kill, injure or take any wild bird. Nonetheless, their clusters of mud nests can damage walls and eaves and numerous ‘pest control’ services make it their business to get rid of them once the birds have migrated. However, according to folklore, it is incredibly bad luck to kill a swallow. The English author Thomas Browne put his finger on the problem in 1650 in the fifth edition of his popular book Vulgar Errors, which addressed the superstitions of his day: ‘Though useless unto us and rather of molestation, we commonly refrain from killing swallows, and esteem it unlucky to destroy them.’
Belief in the sanctity of the swallow stems from the fact that they were sacred to the Penates, or house gods of the ancient Romans, who watched over the home and store cupboard with some sources stating that they were thought to be the embodiment of these gods. The bird’s perpetual flight fuelled the perception of them as spiritual creatures, especially during the Middle Ages, when the fact that they were never seen to land led many people to believe that they had no feet.
The birds are also important in Danish folklore, where they are known as the svale, the bird of consolation, a name given to them because they were said to have tried to comfort Jesus on the Cross by hovering above him and singing ‘svale, svale!’, which translates as ‘cheer up, cheer up!’
In rural areas it’s seen as lucky if a swallow makes its home in your roof as it is thought to confer protection from fire and storm damage. This particular belief probably originates from the observation that homes in which swallows nested were rarely harmed by the weather, as swallows seek out nesting spots that are naturally well protected from the elements. It is thought to be even luckier if one flies in through your door, though you should be wary if it abandons its home in a hurry, since misfortune is likely to be on the way. Farmers across Europe take particular care not to disturb swallows, believing that if they kill one the milk yield from their cows will suffer, or, if they disturb a nest, their harvest will be poor.
IT IS BAD LUCK TO LET MILK BOIL OVER
Milk was an important ingredient in the food of the Middle Ages, but because there was no refrigeration it didn’t stay fresh for long. People kept only as much as they knew they would need, which naturally meant that it was seen as bad luck to let milk boil over and go to waste. The superstition has deeper roots than the need for frugality. There is evidence that since prehistoric times, tribal communities have believed in sympathetic magic – the idea that like produces like, so a yellow fruit might cure jaundice, and that two things which were once connected retain their connection, even after they have been physically separated.
These notions were first described by influential Scottish social anthropologist James Frazer in his book The Golden Bough, published in 1890, which compared mythology and religion across the world. The idea of the interconnectedness of two things can be most easily explained with an example: anything done to the milk of a cow, for instance, might be felt by the animal itself. In societies where the health and productivity of livestock determined the health and indeed the survival of the people who kept them, every precaution against an animal being harmed or falling ill was taken. Where the causes of death and disease weren’t understood, they were often blamed on people’s failure to adhere to the customs dictated by such superstitions. In the Europe of the Middle Ages this might have influenced people’s anxiety about letting the milk boil over, while in many African tribes, including the Masai and Baganda of East Africa and the majority of tribes in Sierra Leone, it meant not boiling milk at all in case it hurt the cow and stopped it from producing.
NEVER KILL A SPIDER
Like many superstitions that have their roots in country customs, this one makes sense for practical reasons. Spiders are useful to farmers because they eat the aphids and other insects that can destroy a farmer’s crops, so it was in the interests of rural people, especially those living in the days before pesticides, to preserve the life of this helpful creature. Spiders were welcomed in the home for similar reasons in that it was better to have a few cobwebs in the corners than for your food (which couldn’t in those days be refrigerated) to become infested with flies. There are mythical sources for the superstition also, with one legend in varying forms, making the harming of spiders a taboo across cultures.
A Christian fable tells how a spider hid the baby Jesus as Mary and Joseph fled with him from King Herod’s men. Joseph had found a cave high in the mountains where Mary could rest as they ran from Herod, who had ordered the killing of all male children under the age of two. The Roman army were close behind and began to search the caves, but when they saw an intricate spider’s web across the entrance to the one in which Jesus lay sleeping they passed by, assuming that it must have been there, undisturbed, for many days.
The Torah tells the parallel story of how David, later the King of Israel, was saved by a spider’s web covering the cave in which he was hiding from an army sent by the King Saul to kill him. In the story of the life of the prophet Mohammed is the tale of how he took shelter in a cave when fleeing his enemies and was saved when a tree sprouted in front of it and a spider built a web between the tree and the cave.
The spider’s usefulness in protecting human life can be traced back even earlier; in AD 77 the Roman scholar Pliny wrote about the medicinal uses of spider’s webs, which were mixed with vinegar and oil and used for healing fractures and cuts. These days we have fewer uses for our eight-legged friends but many of us still put them out the back door with trembling hands rather than risk bad luck by squashing them.
IT IS BAD LUCK TO PASS ANYONE ON THE STAIRCASE
It would lead to some fairly serious pedestrian traffic jams if we tried to adhere to this superstition on the stairways of office blocks, train stations and the shopping malls of the modern world. The best we can do to dispel any bad luck we incur is to keep our fingers crossed or hold our breath as we pass. In the mid-nineteenth century, however, our forefathers were doing their best to avoid it, probably because of the association between stairways and the pathway to heaven. One old English rhyme, passed down by word of mouth, states ‘Never pass upon the stairs, you’ll meet an angel unawares.’
In the mid-nineteenth century the living world was seen as much more closely linked to the spirit world than it is today. Despite the emergence of atheism in the previous century, most people still believed in the afterlife and in the ability of spirits who hadn’t found rest to appear to the living. Accounts of hauntings from this era often describe ghostly figures on staircases: spectral women in white descending the stairs or the ghosts of dead children sitting on the steps.
There may also have been practical re
asons for the superstition that stemmed from the narrowness of early staircases. Two people passing on the narrow staircases of fortified medieval castles would leave themselves open to attack from behind. These stairways were also booby-trapped with ‘stumble steps’ which were made different heights from the others in order to trip any attacker advancing up them.
An earlier piece of stairway folklore meant that by the sixteenth century anyone hoping to be married might have appreciated a stumble step, as it was considered lucky to stumble on your way up a staircase and was a good omen of a future wedding in the household. Stumbling on your way down was still thought of as a misfortune though and seen as a sign of bad luck to come. Restoration dramatist William Congreve recorded the belief in his 1695 play Love for Love: ‘But then I stumbled coming down stairs, and met a weasel; bad omens those.’
NEVER TREAD ON A GRAVE
The Greek scholar Theophrastus (c.372–c.278 BC), who succeeded Aristotle at the Peripatetic School, wrote a study of human nature entitled The Characters that was made up of sketches of different moral character types. The English translation incudes among the traits of ‘The Superstitious Man’: ‘He will not tread upon a tombstone.’ Theophrastus’s work was published in around 319 BC, but after the fall of the Roman Empire his teachings were lost to the Western world until the twelfth century, when translations of Latin texts began to be made. This superstition was incorporated smoothly into a medieval world in which the risk of dying young was enough to make anyone who valued life avoid anything that might increase their chances of going to an early grave.