To kill or rob the nests of these sacred birds was supposed to hazard the destruction of the culprit's residence by lightning. A Cornish rhyme says:--

Those who kill a robin or a wran Will never prosper, boy or man.

In the "laying" of the redoubted Grislehurst boggart, it is not improbable, as ghosts are not easily coffined in a corporeal sense, that some superannuated old rooster, who had disturbed the bodily rest, and scared the wits of the neighbouring rustics by some untoward c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doing, furnished all that was really "laid" in the mysterious grave referred to. An impression may have been entertained that the troublesome elf who had turned the household topsy-turvy had made the said rooster's corpus his temporary earthly tabernacle. Perhaps the "wise men" of the hamlet vainly imagined that nought was required but the driving of a "stoop" through the feathered repository to utterly "squelch" its ghostly occupant.

Since the above was written, a paragraph from the _Carnatic Telegraph_ has "gone the round of the press," relating to the "casting out of devils," as at present practised in India. From this, it appears that the c.o.c.k is, with the Hindoos as with the Lancashire peasant, a most potent instrument in the subjugation of troublesome spirits. The Hindoo exorcist tied his patient's hair in a knot, and then with a nail attached it to a tree. Muttering some "incantatory" stanzas, he seized a live c.o.c.k, and, holding it over the poor girl's head with one hand, he, with the other, cut its throat. The blood-stained knot of hair was left attached to the tree, which was supposed to detain the demon. It is firmly believed that one "or a legion thus exorcised will haunt that tree till he or they shall choose to take possession of some other unfortunate."

In a work published in 1869, ent.i.tled "Count Teleki; a Story of Modern Jewish Life and Customs, by Eca," the author describes a ceremony called the "Keparoth or atoning sacrifice," in which the common barn-door fowl plays an important part. The penitent "whirled a c.o.c.k around his head, saying, 'This is my atonement, this is my ransom. This c.o.c.k goeth to death, but may I be gathered and enter into a long and happy life and into peace.' This he repeated three times.... The sacrifice consists of a c.o.c.k for the male, and a hen for a female. A white fowl is preferred to any other, in allusion to the words of the prophet, 'Though your sins be as scarlet they shall become white as snow.' A pregnant woman takes three, two hens and one c.o.c.k, one hen for herself and the other two for the unborn infant--the hen lest it should be a girl, and the c.o.c.k lest it should be a boy." The fowls are immediately afterwards handed over to the Jewish butcher to be killed.

A yet very prevalent superst.i.tion a.s.serts that a person at the point of death finds serious difficulty in "shuffling off this mortal coil"

should there happen to be any game c.o.c.k feathers in the bed on which he lies. Pigeons' feathers are likewise said to prolong the agonies of death.

In France, a black c.o.c.k is the chief instrument employed to raise the devil, and extract from the fiend sums of money. The incantation must be performed at a locality where four roads meet or two cross each other.

Mr. Wilkinson, referring to the Hothersall Hall boggart, says it "is understood to have been '_laid_' under the roots of a large laurel tree, at the end of the house, and will not be able to molest the family so long as that tree exists. It is a common opinion in that part of the country that the roots have to be moistened with milk on certain occasions, in order to prolong its existence, and also to preserve the power of the spell under which the goblin is laid."

The laurel here appears to be invested with the mythical properties of the ash and the rowan trees, which were supposed to possess irresistible power over "witches, fairies, and other imps of darkness." The author of "Choice Notes" quotes an Aberdeenshire couplet, which a.s.serts that

Rowan, ash, and red thread Keep the devils frae their speed.

and further adds:--"It is a common practice with the housewives in the same district to tie a piece of red worsted thread round their cows'

tails previous to turning them out to gra.s.s for the first time in the spring. It secures their cattle, they say, from an evil eye, from being elfshot by fairies, etc." The red thread is here, like the berries of the rowan, the mutch of the woodp.e.c.k.e.r, the red breast of the robin, etc., in the Aryan myths, typical of the lightning.

In many nooks and corners of Lancashire, and some other parts of England, other stories may be found, many of which point to the Puck or Robin Goodfellow of the fairy mythology as their most probable prototype.

Roby says:--"The English Puck (the Lancashire Boggart), the Scotch Bogie, the French Goblin, the Gobelinus of the Middle Ages, and the German Kobold, are probably only varied names for the Grecian Khobalus,--whose sole delight consists in perplexing the human race, and evoking those harmless terrors that constantly hover round the minds of the timid. So, also, the German Spuck, and the Danish Spogel, correspond to the northern Spog; whilst the German Hudkin, and the Icelandic Puki, exactly answer to the character of the English Robin Goodfellow."

These English domestic sprites or elves that seem to claim a species of kinship to those they alternately torment and render substantial aid, clearly find their counterparts in the ghost and fairy lore of other nations. Kelly says, "Many similar tales are told of the German Zwergs, or dwarfs, who are the same race of little people as the elves and fairies that live in the hearts of green hills and mounds in Great Britain and Ireland. Often does it happen that a whole colony of these Zwergs effects an exodus from a German district, because the people have given them some offence, or 'have become too knowing for them;' and on these occasions there is always a river to be crossed." This was ever a difficulty, but not an unconquerable one, with the German elves. In England and Scotland a certain cla.s.s of goblin or ghost found a running stream an impa.s.sable barrier. Poor Tam O'Shanter's mare Meg demonstrated the truth of this by the sacrifice of her caudal appendage. Grimm says that many facts tend to show a near relationship between elves of this cla.s.s and the souls of men. The ordinary ghosts of the present day, whether voluntary visitors or obedient servants of "spirit mediums," are supposed to be the souls of the departed. Kelly says, on the authority of Kuhn and Schwartz, "Some of the many names by which the Zwergs are known in North Germany mean the 'ancients' or the 'ancestors,' and mark the a.n.a.logy between the beings so designated and the Hindoo Pitris or Fathers; whilst other names--Holden (_i.e._, good, kind) in Germany; good people, good neighbours, in Ireland and Scotland--connect the same elves with the Manes of the Romans." The Pitris of the Hindoos seem to furnish the germ of "good fairies," the fairy G.o.dmother, the Persian Peris, the Arabic Ginns, the chief of the followers of Oberon and t.i.tania, and of the kindlier phase in the character of Puck, Robin Goodfellow, or the Lancashire bogie, or domestic boggart, but the larking propensity of this sprite may possibly have resulted from a more modern addition to the spirit lore of the Northern Aryan people.

Mr. Jno. Aubrey, Fellow of the Royal Society, in his "Miscellanies,"

published in 1696, gives what he styles "a Collection of Hermetic Philosophy," which exhibits an astonishing amount of superst.i.tion, even amongst the presumedly learned men of the age. Amongst other things he informs his readers, on the authority of a letter from a "learned friend," in Scotland, that a certain Lord Duffin was suddenly transported, by fairies, from his residence in Morayshire, and that he was "found the next day in Paris, in the French king's cellar, with a silver cup in his hand!" Such a feat was worthy of the sprite who could put a "girdle round the earth in forty minutes." Truly, as Ben Johnson's Puck says, he could "travel swifter than the wind with a load of humanity on his back."

Our ordinary stories of churchyard ghosts, and other apparitions and "spiritual manifestations," have much more in common with the "folk-lore" of cla.s.sical antiquity than is generally known. There is a story told by Pliny the younger, which so much resembles many that we have heard in youth, that nothing is required but a change of name, place, and date, to thoroughly domesticate it amongst us. It is related as follows, in Melmoth's translation of Pliny's letters:

"There was at Athens a large and s.p.a.cious house which lay under the disrepute of being haunted. In the dead of the night a noise resembling the clashing of iron was frequently heard, which, if you listened more attentively, sounded like the rattling of chains; at first it seemed at a distance, but approached nearer by degrees; immediately afterwards a spectre appeared in the form of an old man, extremely meagre and ghastly, with a long beard and dishevelled hair, rattling the chains on his feet and hands.... By this means the house was at last deserted, being judged by everybody to be absolutely uninhabitable; so that it was now entirely abandoned to the ghost. However, in hopes that some tenant might be found who was ignorant of this great calamity which attended it, a bill was put up giving notice that it was either to be let or sold. It happened that the philosopher Athenodorus came to Athens at this time, and, reading the bill, inquired the price. The extraordinary cheapness raised his suspicion; nevertheless, when he heard the whole story, he was so far from being discouraged that he was more strongly inclined to hire it, and, in short, actually did so. When it drew towards evening, he ordered a couch to be prepared for him in the fore part of the house, and, after calling for a light, together with his pen and tablets, he directed all his people to retire. But that his mind might not, for want of employment, be open to the vain terrors of imaginary noises and spirits, he applied himself to writing with the utmost attention. The first part of the night pa.s.sed with usual silence, when at length the chains began to rattle; however he neither lifted up his eyes nor laid down his pen, but diverted his observation by pursuing his studies with greater earnestness. The noise increased, and advanced nearer, till it seemed at the door, and at last in the chamber. He looked up, and saw the ghost exactly in the manner it had been described to him; it stood before him, beckoning with his finger. Athenodorus made a sign with his hand that it should wait a little, and then threw his eyes again upon his papers; but, the ghost still rattling his chains in his ears, he looked up, and saw him beckoning as before. Upon this he immediately arose, and, with the light in his hand, followed it. The ghost slowly stalked along, as if enc.u.mbered with his chains, and turning into the area of the house, suddenly vanished. Athenodorus, being thus deserted, made a mark, with some gra.s.s and leaves, where the spirit left him. The next day he gave information to the magistrates, and advised them to order that spot to be dug up. This was accordingly done, and the skeleton of a man in chains was there found; for the body having lain for a considerable time in the ground, was putrefied and mouldered away from the fetters. The bones, being collected together, were publicly buried, and thus, after the ghost was appeased by the proper ceremonies, the house was haunted no more."

I was forcibly struck with the peculiarly Eastern character of a traditionary observance related to me during my investigation of the remains found in the ancient British tumulus at Over Darwen, in Lancashire, in November, 1864. I was informed that the country people spoke of the mound as a locality haunted by "boggarts," and that children were in the habit of taking off their clogs or shoes, under the influence of some such superst.i.tious feeling, when walking past it in the night time.

Keppel, in his "Visit to the Indian Archipelago," refers to a somewhat similar superst.i.tion in Northern Australia. The natives will not willingly approach graves at night alone; "but when they are obliged to pa.s.s them, they carry a fire stick to keep off the spirit of darkness."

It is perhaps scarcely necessary that I should refer to the fact that recent naturalists have satisfactorily demonstrated that the green circles termed "fairy rings," have nothing "supernatural" in their character, being simply a result of the growth of a species of fungus.

Not long ago, "the learned" contended that they resulted from some obscure kind of electric action. Sir Walter Scott, who held this opinion, sneeringly refers to them as "electrical rings, which vulgar credulity supposes to be traces of fairy revels." Thousands of English peasants, yes, and many presumedly much wiser people, nevertheless, yet firmly adhere to the ancient faith. Singularly enough, Shakspere seems almost to have intuitively guessed at their true origin. When Prospero, for the last time invokes the aid of the supernatural, he exclaims:--

Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves; And ye that on the sands with printless feet Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets, that By moonshine do the green-sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you, whose pastime Is to make _midnight mushrooms_.

FOOTNOTES:

[26] Sir Walter Scott thought _bargaist_ to be the German _bahrgeist_, the spirit of the bier, alluding to its presence foretelling death. The word is variously written, _barguest_ and _boguest_ being amongst its forms. A very slight provincial change would make the latter _boguerst_, from whence, probably, the Lancashire boggart. The Cymric word bwg, which represents, according to Mr. Garnett, the modern bug, bugbear, and hobgoblin, has evidently intimate relation to the root of the word. This sprite is often confounded with others, and is subjected to much local variation.

[27] QUERY.--Has the Lancashire and Yorkshire word "lake," meaning "to play," anything in common with the modern word "larking," now so much in vogue?

CHAPTER VIII.

FERN-SEED AND ST. JOHN'S-WORT SUPERSt.i.tIONS.

I had No medicine, sir, to go invisible, No fern-seed in my pocket.

_Ben Jonson._

Most peoples have, in some form or other, preserved the traditionary superst.i.tion that fern-seed was miraculously endowed with the power of rendering its possessor invisible. The great hero of our boyish days, the redoubtable "Jack, the Giant-killer," had his "coat of darkness,"

which conferred upon its proprietor this marvellous peculiarity. In the cla.s.sical mythology, the helmet given to Hades or Pluto likewise possessed the power of rendering the wearer invisible. In the Teutonic, the "invisible cap" of the Nibelungenlied possessed a similar property.

Shakspere makes Gadshill allude to it in a metaphorical sense. He is anxious to impress upon the mind of the chamberlain of the hostelry, near the scene of Falstaff's famous robbing exploit, that although he was engaged in an illegal enterprise, he was in league with companions of such high social status that the officers of the law would be unable to perceive their criminality if detected. He says:--"We steal as in a castle, c.o.c.k-sure; we have the receipt of fern-seed, we walk invisible."

Beaumont and Fletcher, in the "Fair Maid of the Inn," have the following reference to this superst.i.tion:--

Had you not Gyges' ring?

Or the herb that gives invisibility?

In a curious tract, published in the reign of Elizabeth, ent.i.tled "Plaine Percevall, the Peacemaker," the following pa.s.sage occurs:--"I thinke the mad slave hath tasted on a fernstalke, that he walkes so invisible."

Fairies, of course, possessed the power of rendering themselves visible, or otherwise, at pleasure. Oberon, in A Midsummer Night's Dream, says:--

But who comes here?

I am invisible, and I will Overhear their conference.

Spirits of any cla.s.s, of course, possessed this power, and its complement, that of being visible, at pleasure. Prospero, in the Tempest, says to Ariel:--

Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea; Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible To every eyeball else.

All ferns, according to German authorities, and especially the "seed"

thereof, possessed the quality usually described as "luck bringing."

According to Panzer, the devil was compelled to fulfil the wish of any person in possession of the seed of this plant; and Meier tells us that in Swabia the peasants believe that the possession of this seed, obtained from his Satanic majesty between the hours of eleven and twelve o'clock on Christmas night, will enable one man to do the work of twenty or thirty others not so favoured. Browne, in his "Britannia's Pastorals," speaks of "the wonderous one night seeding ferne;" and Richard Bivot, in his "Pandaemonium," published in 1648, quaintly informs us that "much discourse hath been about gathering of fern seed (which is looked upon as a magical herb) on the night of Midsummer-eve; and I remember I was told of one who went to gather it, and the spirits whisk't by his ears like bullets, and sometimes struck his hat and other parts of his body; in fine, although he apprehended he had gotten a quant.i.ty of it, and secured it in papers, and a box besides, when he came home he found all empty."

Kelly says,--"The summer solstice is a favourite season for gathering plants of the lightning tribe, and particularly the springwort and fern.

It is believed in the Oberpfalz that the springwort, or St. John's-wort (johanniswurzel) as some call it, can only be found among the fern on St. John's night. It is said to be of a yellow colour, and to shine in the night like a candle; which is just what is said of the mandrake in an Anglo-Saxon ma.n.u.script of the tenth or eleventh century. Moreover, it never stands still, but hops about continually, to avoid the grasp of men. Here, then, in the luminosity and power of nimble movement attributed to the springwort, we have another remarkable tradition signifying the transformation of the lightning into the plant."

The following translation from a German poem, beautifully ill.u.s.trates the Teutonic form of this superst.i.tion:--

The young maid stole through the cottage door, And blushed as she sought the plant of power.

"Thou silver glow-worm, O lend me thy light, I must gather the mystic St. John's-wort to-night; The wonderful herb whose leaf will decide If the coming year shall make me a bride!"

And the glow-worm came With his silvery flame, And sparkled and shone Through the night of St. John.

And soon as the young maid her love-knot tied With noiseless tread To her chamber she sped, Where the spectral moon her white beams shed, "Bloom here, bloom here, thou plant of power, To deck the young bride in her bridal hour!"

But it drooped its head, that plant of power, And died the mute death of a voiceless flower; And a withered leaf on the ground it lay, More meet for a burial than a bridal day.