Traditions, Superstitions and Folk-lore Part 6

This practice of "bringing in the New Year" with festive rejoicing is still a very common one, especially in the north of England. A singular superst.i.tion in connection with it is evidently of very ancient origin.

It is considered to be an unlucky omen if the first person who enters a house on the morning of the first of January happens to be a female.

Another unlucky omen is yet very commonly respected in Lancashire and elsewhere, even amongst comparatively educated people, at this festive season. It is considered to bode misfortune if the first person who enters your house on New Year's morning has a fair complexion and light hair. I have never heard this very popular prejudice satisfactorily accounted for. I can only suggest that it most probably arose from the fact that amongst the Keltic tribes, or the earliest Aryan immigrants, dark hair prevailed, as amongst the Welsh, Cornish, and Irish of the present day; and that when they afterwards came in contact with the Teutonic branch, as enemies, they found their mortal foes to possess fair skins and light hair. They consequently regarded the intrusion into their household, at the commencement of the year, of one of the hated race, as a sinister omen. The beards and hair of the ancient Aryan G.o.ds were golden or red, or fire-coloured. The Teutonic Thor, in this respect, was the counterpart of Indra and Agni. Red hair, no doubt, would have its admirers, where these G.o.ds were worshipped; and, of course, it would fall into contempt when the reverse was the case. The German early Christians, it appears, not only condemned Thor to the lower regions, but carried their dislike to the very colour of his hair.

Hence the proverb, "Rother-bart, Teufelsart," or "Red-beard, devil-steered." They went so far, indeed, as to a.s.sert, without any other authority than the speciality of his personal character, that the beard of the arch-traitor, Judas Iscariot, was of this obnoxious colour.

Dryden refers to it in the triplet which he despatched to Jacob Tonson, as a specimen of his power as a satirist, and which caused the celebrated publisher to deal more liberally than previously with the poor and angry poet. Dryden's lines are:

With leering look, bull-faced, and freckled fair, With two left legs, with _Judas_-coloured hair, And frowsy pores that taint the ambient air.

Kelly says the prejudice is of German and not of Eastern origin. Hence it is not improbable that the dethronement of the red-haired G.o.ds may have been at the root of the German antipathy. But the true Kelt does not simply abhor, on New Year's Day, the red hair of the Dane, but the brown or flaxen, or amber locks of the German as well. Indeed, black or dark hair and complexion are the chief objects of his concern in the individual who first enters his domicile on the dawn of the New Year.[18] Many householders feast their friends on New Year's Eve, and send out shortly before midnight one of the party, with dark hair, expressly "to bring in the New Year," as it is termed. I remember, some time ago, the landlady of one of the Preston hotels, being unmarried, was in the habit of rewarding the fortunate dark-haired gentleman with a kiss for his propitious entrance into her hostelry on the morning of this festivity. Of course, the fair one had nothing but frowns and harsh words if a light-haired interloper happened to first cross her threshold.

Mr. T. T. Wilkinson, in his "Popular Customs and Superst.i.tions in Lancashire," referring to the practice of divination at this season of the year, says:--"When a Lancashire damsel desires to know what sort of a husband she will have, on New Year's Eve she pours some melted lead into a gla.s.s of water and observes what forms the drops a.s.sume. When they resemble scissors, she concludes that she must rest satisfied with a tailor; if they appear in the form of a hammer, he will be a smith or a carpenter; and so of the others. I have met with many instances of this cla.s.s in which the example given did not admit of easy contradiction."

The prophetic character of the weather during this period is a superst.i.tion common to all the Aryan tribes. So strongly is this characteristic of the season felt in Lancashire, at the present day, that many country people may be met with who habitually found their "forecast," as the late Admiral Fitzroy would term the operation, on the appearance of the heavens on Old Christmas Day. Mr. T. T. Wilkinson relates a singular instance of this superst.i.tion, which shows the stubbornness of traditional lore, even when subjected to the power and influence of legislative enactments. He says:--"The _use_ of the _old style_ in effect is not yet extinct in Lancashire. The writer knows an old man, R. H., of Habergham, about 77 years of age, who always reckons the changes of the seasons in this manner. He alleges the practice of his grandfather and father in support of his method, and states with much confidence that 'Perliment didn't change t' seasons wen they chang'd day o' t' month.'"

The New Year's advent is still believed to be a period especially favourable for divination of various kinds. A work named the "Shepherd's Kalender," published in 1709, soberly informs us that "if New Year's Day in the morning open with dusky red clouds, it denotes strifes and debates among great ones, and many robberies to happen that year."

The "weatherwise" placed much reliance on the prophetic aspect of the heavens at this period. A clergyman at Kirkmichael, quoted by Sir John Sinclair, says, with reference to the practices of some of his parishioners,--"On the first night of January they observe with anxious attention the disposition of the atmosphere. As it is calm or boisterous; as the wind blows from the north or the south, from the east or the west, they prognosticate the nature of the weather till the conclusion of the year. The first night of the new year when the wind blows from the west they call _dar-na-coille_, the night of the fecundation of the trees; and from the circ.u.mstance has been derived the name in the Gaelic language. Their faith in the above signs is couched in verses thus translated:--'The wind of the south will produce heat and fertility; the wind of the west milk and fish; the wind of the north cold and storm; the wind from the east fruit on the trees.'"

A curious custom of this cla.s.s is mentioned by Sir Henry Ellis, termed "Apple-howling," as being well known in Suss.e.x, Devon, and elsewhere.

Troops of boys gather round the orchards on New Year's Eve, and chant the following ditty:--

Stand fast root, bear well top, Pray G.o.d send us a howling crop; Every twig, apples big; Every bough, apples enow; Hats full, caps full, Full quarter sacks full.

The practice of divining or "fore-casting" the character of the weather, and influencing the vegetation of the coming year, by ceremonies and observations of atmospheric effects, at its commencement, or on New Year's Day, appears to be prefigured in the ancient Aryan mythology. On this subject Walter Kelly says:--"In the gloomy season of the winter solstice the Ribhus" (demi-G.o.ds, who aid in the ruling of the lightning and storms) "sleep for twelve days in the house of the sun-G.o.d Savitar; then they wake up and prepare the earth to clothe itself anew with vegetation, and the frozen waters to flow again. It appears certain, from some pa.s.sages in the Vedas, that twelve nights about the winter solstice were regarded as prefiguring the character of the weather for the whole year. A Sanscrit text is noticed by Weber, which says expressly, 'The twelve nights are an image of the year.' The very same belief exists at this day in Northern Germany. The peasants say that the calendar for the whole year is made in the twelve days between Christmas and Epiphany, and that as the weather is on each of these days so will it be on the corresponding month of the ensuing year. They believe also that whatever one dreams on any of the twelve nights will come to pa.s.s within the next year."

Before the introduction of the New Style, previously referred to, this weather fore-casting was indulged in at the end of March. Brand gives an old rhyme which demonstrates the truth of this:

March said to Aperill, I see three hogs upon a hill; But lend your first three days to me, And I'll be bound to gar them dee.

The first it sall be wind an' weet, The next it sall be snaw an' sleet, The third it sall be sic a freeze, Sall gar the birds stick to the trees.

But when the borrowed days were gane, The three silly hogs came hirplin hame.

Mr. Henderson, in his recent work on the "Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties," says, "Old people presage the weather of the coming season by that of the last three days of March, which they call the 'borrowing days,' and thus rhyme about:

"March borrowed from April Three days, and they were ill; The first o' them war wind an' weet, The next o' them war snaw an' sleet, The last o' them war wind an' rain, Which gaed the silly pair ewes come toddling hame."

The mistletoe and the oak were both of sacred, or "lightning" origin amongst the Aryans, and the medicinal, mythical, or magical character yet attributed to the former both by the Teutons and Kelts, had, doubtless, one common origin. Walter Kelly says the mistletoe "possesses, in a high degree, all the virtues proper to botanic lightning, as is implied in its Swiss name, _donnerbesen_, 'thunderbesom,' and its mode of growth is conformable in all particulars to its exalted mythical character. It is a parasite, and like the asvattha and the rowan, it is everywhere believed to spring from seed deposited by birds on trees. When it was found on the oak, the Druids ascribed its growth directly to the G.o.ds; they _chose_ the tree; and the bird was their messenger, perhaps a G.o.d in disguise." The mistletoe was supposed to protect the homestead from fire and other disaster; and, like many other mysterious things, it was believed to be potent in matters relating to courtship and matrimony. It is to this sentiment we owe the practice of kissing under the bush formed of holly and mistletoe during the Christmas festivities.

This matrimonial element in the mysticism which attaches to the mistletoe is artistically presented in the Scandinavian mythology.

Freyja, the mother of Baldr, had rendered him invulnerable against all things formed out of the then presumed four elements, fire, air, earth, and water. The mistletoe was believed to grow from none of these elements. Another version is that she swore all created things never to hurt this the "whitest" and most loved of all the aesir; but she overlooked one insignificant branch of the mistletoe, and it was by an arrow fashioned from it that the bright day-G.o.d, Baldr, the Scandinavian counterpart of Apollo and Bel, was killed by the blind Hodr or Helder.

The G.o.ds, however, restored him to life, and dedicated the mistletoe to his mother, who is regarded as the counterpart of the cla.s.sical Venus.

Hence its importance in affairs of love and courtship. It is not improbable that the far-famed dart of Cupid may have some relationship to the mistletoe arrow to which the beautiful Baldr succ.u.mbed. In a Vedic incantation, translated by Dr. Kuhn, this death-dealing power of the mistletoe is ascribed to a branch of the _asvattha_.

The medicinal qualities of the mistletoe were also in high repute. "This healing virtue, which the mistletoe shares with the ash," says Kelly, "is a long-descended tradition, for '_the kustha the embodiment of the soma_,' a healing plant of the highest renown among the Southern Aryans, was one of those that grew beneath the heavenly asvattha." This heavenly asvattha is the _ficus religiosa_, or "world tree," "out of which the immortals shaped the heavens and the earth;" and it is supposed to be the prototype of the yggdrasil, the cloud-tree of the Nors.e.m.e.n, "an ash (Norse _askr_), the tree out of which the G.o.ds formed the first man, who was thence called Askr. The ash was also among the Greeks, an image of the clouds, and the mother of men." The Christmas tree of the Germans, recently imported into this country, no doubt originated in these ancient mythical superst.i.tions.

The wide-spread traditionary belief in this world-overspreading tree is confirmed by a pa.s.sage in Merlin's celebrated prophecy. The magician says, "After this shall be produced a tree upon the Tower of London, which, having no more than three branches, shall overshadow the surface of the whole island." Of course Merlin is speaking figuratively of the future prospects of Britain, and refers to the domination of London as the metropolitan city of the British empire. Nevertheless, the origin of the mythical language used for this purpose appears to admit of no doubt.

The famous bean-stalk up which the renowned "Jack," of nursery story, climbed till he reached cloud-land, the abode of fairies and giants, is, unquestionably, a remnant of the Scandinavian yggdrasil, or cloud-tree.

Beans and peas, as will be hereafter shown, in the Aryan myths, were connected with celestial fire, and with departed spirits. This Gothic skiey realm has likewise its counterpart in the Greek Phaeakian domain, or "cloudland geography," as Mr. c.o.x aptly expresses it.

A certain reverence for both the oak and the ash exists yet in the minds of others better educated than the peasantry of England. The phrase, "Our hearts of oak," may shortly be superseded by "Our iron-clads," but the figure of speech, as applied to the fighting sailor, and not to the craft, will long survive the era of the conversion of the ships. The oak and the ash are weather-prophets at this day. An old rhyme says:--

If the oak's before the ash, We shall only get a splash; If the ash precede the oak, We shall surely get a soak.

This, of course, refers to the priority in the time of budding or coming into leaf.

Other Christmas customs and superst.i.tions appear to distinctly exhibit an Aryan origin. The white-thorn is supposed to possess supernatural power, and certain trees of this cla.s.s, in Lancashire called Christmas thorns, are believed to blossom only on Old Christmas Day. Mr. Wilkinson says that, in the neighbourhood of Burnley, many persons will yet travel a considerable distance "at midnight, in order to witness the blossoming." In the Arboretum at Kew gardens, Miss Pratt informs us, in her "Flowers, and their a.s.sociations," there is a tree of this kind which "is often covered with its cl.u.s.ters while the snow surrounds it."

The thorn, as I shall afterwards show, was an Aryan "lightning plant,"

and, therefore, supposed to be endowed with supernatural properties.

The boar's head yet forms a prominent object amongst the traditionary dishes of Christmas festivities. Amongst the impersonations of natural phenomena in the Aryan mythology, the wild boar represented the "ravages of the whirlwind that tore up the earth." The boar is an animal connected with the storm and lightning, in all the Indo-European mythologies. Kelly says:--"Boars are winds, and their white flashing tusks were looked upon by the southern Aryans and the Greeks, as well as by the Germans, as images of the lightning." There exists yet a traditionary superst.i.tion very prevalent in Lancashire and its neighbourhood to the effect that pigs can "_see the wind_." I accidentally heard the observation made not long ago, in the city of Manchester, in what is termed "respectable society," and no one present audibly dissented. One or two individuals, indeed, remarked that they had often heard such was the case, and seemed to regard the phenomenon as related to the strong scent and other instincts peculiar to animals of the chase. Indeed, Dr. Kuhn says that in Westphalia this phase of the superst.i.tion is the prevalent one. There pigs are said to smell the wind. No one except myself, in the Manchester instance referred to, appeared to have any knowledge of the origin of the tradition, or that it was, _at least_, between three and four thousand years old, and, in all probability, very much older.

FOOTNOTES:

[18] Since the above was written, I have learned that, in some localities, light-haired men are preferred. This superst.i.tion may, therefore, perhaps, arise, as I have suggested, from prejudice of race, and equally apply to Teuton and Kelt, and, consequently, subject to local modification.

CHAPTER IV.

EASTER SUPERSt.i.tIONS AND CEREMONIES.

Gentle Spring! in sunshine clad, Well do'st thou thy power display!

For Winter maketh the light heart sad, And thou, thou maketh the sad heart gay!

He sees thee, and calls to his gloomy train, The sleet, and the snow, and the wind, and the rain, And they shrink away, and they flee in fear, When thy merry step draws near.

Winter giveth the fields and trees, so old, Their beards of icicles and snow; And the rain, it raineth so fast and cold, We must cower over the embers low; And snugly housed from the wind and weather, Mope like birds that are changing feather; But storm retires, and the sky grows clear, When thy merry step draws near.

_Translation by Longfellow from the French of Charles D'Orleans, XV. century._

Her feet beneath her petticoat, Like little mice steal in and out, As if they feared the light: And, oh! she dances such a way, No sun upon an Easter day Is half so fine a sight.

_Sir John Suckling._

Many scarcely yet obsolete ceremonies and superst.i.tions peculiar to the spring time of the year may likewise be traced to the ancient fire or sun worship, and other Aryan sources. That the sun rose on Easter-day, and danced with delight in honour of the resurrection of Christ, is evidently an ancient superst.i.tion engrafted on an orthodox Christian tenet. This sun-dancing belief is thus rebuked in the "Athenian Oracle":--

"Why does the sun at his rising play more on Easter-day than Whitsunday?

The matter of fact is an old weak, superst.i.tious error, and the sun neither plays nor works on Easter-day more than any other. It's true, it may sometimes happen to shine brighter that morning than any other; but, if it does, 'tis purely accidental. In some parts of England they call it the lamb-playing, which they look for, as soon as the sun rises, in some clear spring or water, and is nothing but the pretty reflection it makes from the water, which they may find at any time, if the sun rises clear and they themselves early, and unprejudiced with fancy."

Sir Thomas Browne, referring to this subject, says:--"We shall not, I hope, disparage the Resurrection of our Redeemer if we say that the sun doth not dance on Easter-day; and though we would willingly a.s.sent to any sympathetical exultation, yet we cannot conceive therein any more than a tropical expression."

These extracts are sufficient to show the "toughness" of the traditionary belief, and that its probable origin is of an earlier date than the Christian festivities of Easter. Some derive the term Easter from the Saxon Oster, to rise; others "from one of the Saxon G.o.ddesses, called Eastre, whom they always worshipped at this season." Others, again, prefer the Anglo-Saxon root, signifying a storm, "the time of Easter being subject to the continual recurrence of tempestuous weather."

The procuring of original or "need-fire," from flint and steel at this season, has been previously referred to. At Reading, in 1559, it appears by the churchwardens' account, yet extant, that 5s. 8d. was "paid for makynge of the Paschall and Funte Taper." Two years previously, one made for the abbey church of Westminster weighed three hundred pounds!