ordained that it might be made to work both ways. Simply by keeping one’s eyes and ears open one sees and hears many things. An enterprising news-gatherer jots down a bit of superstition touching the fateful side of the rule in question that came to him in this easy sort of way: “I heard,” he says, “a most sensible person, the other day, exclaim because Queen Victoria had been obliged twice to postpone her trip to the south of France, once on account of the unsettled state of affairs over there, and again because of the unsettled state of the weather. ‘The third time will be fatal to her,’ added this cheerful individual; ‘you just mark my words.’”
It is nevertheless true, however, that the cabalistic number Thirteen stands quite alone, so far as we are informed, as the sombre herald of misfortune. But here, as elsewhere, the exception only goes to prove the rule.
A gentleman holding a lucrative office under the government once told me that two of his clerks wore iron finger rings, because they were supposed to be lucky. It is a matter of general knowledge that certain gems or precious stones are worn on scarf-pins, watch-chains, finger rings, or other articles of personal adornment solely on account of the prevailing belief in their efficacy to ward off sickness or disease, prevent accidents, keep one’s friends, – in short, to bring the wearer good luck. This branch of the subject will be more fully treated of presently.
More unaccountable still is the practice of wearing or carrying about on one’s person a rabbit’s foot as a talisman, that timid little animal always having been intimately associated with the arts of the magician and sorcerer. But it must always be bunny’s hind foot. The insatiate passion for novelty, we understand, has now installed a turkey’s claw in the room of the rabbit’s foot, to some extent, showing that even credulity itself is the obedient slave of fashion. Of course neither the rabbit’s foot nor turkey’s claw is worn in its natural rough state, but under the jeweller’s skilful hands, tipped with gold or silver and set with the wearer’s favorite gem (topaz, amethyst, or whatever it may be), the charm, or mascot, becomes an ornament to be worn, either suspended from the neck, the wrist, or belt, or as a clasp for the cape. The practice of wearing a caul,9 or an amulet blessed by the priest, clearly denotes that here rich and poor meet on common ground. It is not proposed, however, to treat of those beliefs which may be directly traced to the teachings of a particular church, or that have become so embedded in the faith it inculcates as to be an inseparable part of it The Protestant world, or that part of it we live in, is intrenched in no such stronghold.
To continue the catalogue: —
A black cat, without a single white hair, is a witch of the sort that brings luck to the house. Keeping one also insures to unmarried females of the family plenty of sweethearts.
A branch of the mountain ash kept in the house, or hung out over the door, will keep the witches out.
Good luck is frequently crystallized in certain uncouth but expressive sayings, such, for example, as “nigger luck,” “lucky strike,” or “Cunard luck,” referring to the remarkable exemption of a certain transatlantic steamship company from loss of life by disasters to its ships. This particular saying has been quite frequently heard of late in consequence of the really providential escape of the steamship Pavonia, of that line, from shipwreck, while on her voyage from Liverpool to Boston. What was uppermost in the minds of some of the passengers and crew may easily be inferred from the following extract, with which a relation of the good ship’s fortunate escape from foundering concludes: —
“The change of the moon passed at 9.30 A.M., and the light breeze changed at almost the same moment. The gulls were sitting on the water, which was a sign of luck, according to the sailors. Then we discovered a lot of ‘Mother Carey’s chickens’ near the ship, which was also a lucky omen, so we felt that Friday was to be our lucky day.”
Unquestionably, the horseshoe is the favorite symbol of good luck the world over. You will seldom see a man so much in a hurry that he will not stop to pick one up. Although the iron of which the shoe is fashioned is no longer endowed with magic power, as it once was, no sooner has it been beaten by the smith into the form of a shoe than, presto, it becomes a power to conjure with. Popular dictum even prescribes that the shoe must be placed with the prongs upward or its virtue will be lost. It must, moreover, be a cast-off shoe or the charm will not work.
The luck of the horseshoe has become proverbial. We are now dealing with facts of common knowledge. Indeed, we do not see how any form of superstition could be more fully or more freely recognized in the everyday affairs of life. Even those who scout the superstition itself, as a thing unworthy of serious attention, do not hesitate to avail themselves of its popularity for their own ends, thus giving it a still wider currency. In short, this hoary superstition is thriftily turned to account by every imaginable device to tickle the fancy or to turn a penny, although in being thus employed it has quite cut loose from its ancient traditions.
Thus it is that we now see the horseshoe stamped on monograms, on Christmas cards, on book covers, or even used in the title of a book, most effectively, as in the case of “Horseshoe Robinson.” It also is seen worked into floral designs to be hung above the bride’s head, at a wedding, or reverently laid upon the last resting-place of the dead. Surely superstition could go no farther.
The horseshoe has also come to be a favorite trade-mark with manufacturers and dealers in all sorts of wares. It is elaborately worked up in gold and silver charms for those who would rather be lucky than not, regardless of the original dictum that, to be serviceable, the shoe must be made of iron and nothing else. There lies before me, as I write this, the advertisement of a certain farrier, who rests his plea for custom upon the fact that as horseshoes bring luck to the purchaser, therefore every horse should be shod with his shoes. A certain horseshoers’ union attributes its victory over the employers, in the matter of shorter hours, to the efficacy of its trade symbol. And not long ago the fortunate escape of Boston from a disastrous conflagration was heralded in a daily paper with a cut of a horseshoe prefixed to the account.
Of late years, too, the horseshoe has grown to be a favorite symbol in the house, – a sort of household fetich, as it were, – if not because of any faith in its traditional ability to bring good luck, one is at loss to know why a piece of old iron should be so conspicuously hung up in the houses of rich and poor alike.
The horseshoe was always, also, the favorite emblem of the tavern and inn, in all countries. Such signs as the “Three Horseshoes,” once swung in Boston streets. In Samuel Sewall’s Diary we find the following entry: “Sanctifie to me ye deth of old Mrs. Glover who kept the 3 horseshoes, and who dyed ye last night.” Sewall, who lived in the immediate neighborhood, leaves us in the dark as to whether he mourned most for Mrs. Glover or her exhilarating mixtures.
Returning to its proper place in folk-lore, I myself have seen the horseshoe nailed to the bowsprit of a vessel, over house and barn doors, and even to bedsteads. In the country, its supposed virtues continue to hold much of their old sway, while among sailors a belief in them has suffered little, if any, loss since the day of Nelson and of the Victory. On some very old country house, as old as the witchcraft times, one can still see the shape of a horseshoe wrought in the brickwork of the chimneys, as well as one nailed above the door, thus cleverly closing every avenue against the entrance of witches. But of all the odd caprices connected with the use of the horseshoe, that related of Samuel Dexter, of Boston, must carry off the palm for oddity. He, being dissatisfied with his minister, Dr. Codman, nailed a horseshoe to his pew door, and then nailed up the pew itself.
The origin of this remarkable superstition is involved in the obscurity of past ages. It is usually attributed to the virtue of cold iron to keep witches out, through their inability to step over it, and is probably allied to that other superstition about the driving of iron nails into the walls of Roman houses, with a like object. Beyond that point its meaning grows more and more obscure. The conjunction, so essential to perfect the charm, between iron in any form
It is deemed lucky to be born with a caul or membrane over the face. In France
