Page images
PDF
EPUB

as there is none of the raised work which is so seldom well done by amateurs.

The finest cotton I have named is for the edge, and for all those parts that are done in satin stitch; all the tracing and sewing over is done in the No. 50.

Use a piece of toile ciré to work on it keeps the cambric from puckering, and as it lasts so long, is more economical than any cheaper material. AIGUILLETTE.

GERMAN LEGENDARY LORE.
BY MRS. T. K. HERVEY.
No. IV.

The superstition which in ages past served to kindle many a brand in England, is to be found in full force among the old Saxon traditions. The witch legends of Germany are numerous, and of varied character. In that country, as with ourselves, the supposed affinity between old women and cats seems in most cases to have been religiously maintained. Ugliness and decrepitude, however, would appear not to be essential conditions in the recorded transformations; since frequently the performers in the "Katzentanz" were suddenly converted into young and fair women, delicately arrayed. In eerie places at the witching hour of night, many a belated traveller is represented as becoming a startled witness to the revels of these world-old followers of Hecate. Yet not content with holding her orgies under the moon in such barren and deserted spots as best befit unearthly doings, this peculiar being, the witch-cat-" but once bewitched, and ever more bewitching” — occasionally affected the smooth swards and green places of the land: sometimes, indeed, as we shall see hereafter, a skylight is preferred, sometimes the immediate neighbourhood of a gnarled and hollow linden-tree-the wellknown favourite resort of that more terrible scourge of ancient tales, the Dragon, or "Lindwurm." Ever, some peculiarity in the manners of these four-footed witches indicates to the unwary meddler at their feasts the real nature of his feline entertainers. One feature of the case is singular. Most animals, it is well known, are addicted to salt. Horses, it is said, will turn up their noses at a corn-bin in which this delicacy of the table has been omitted. Amidst the Alps, goats have been found to follow most pertinaciously such travellers as carried provisions with them, in the hope of obtaining a few superfluous grains of this universal condiment, the indulgence of the craving amounting to what has been termed a sort of "Caprine dram-drinking." In short, we know of no animal-the_witch-cat excepted—that refuses salt. With regard to her peculiar distaste, the only cause which can be assigned as likely to weigh with the force of a reasonable suggestion is, that the animal in question acknowledges at all events an ancient reverence for the sacred duties of hospitality, which strictly forbids her to bewitch those whose salt she has shared; and feeling altogether incapable of abstaining from her usual unfriendly dealings towards mortals,

very properly shrinks from adding this luxury to the common table when enticing unhappy travellers to her haunts. The following short legend will exemplify the summary manner in which the social scene is dissolved-“ cum grano salis."

A traveller who had dived too deeply into the wine-cup, in passing through some green meadows came suddenly upon a troop of cats who were engaged in dancing in a circle. "When the dance had continued for some time, all at once the cats disappeared, and in their place stood a bevy of maidens, beautifully apparelled. They placed upon a long table the most delicious viands, and invited the traveller to share the feast. Nothing loth, he took his place at the sumptuous board; but the greatest delicacies failed to please his palate, owing to the omission of one essential ingredient:-the salt was wanting. Have you no salt here?' asked the traveller guest. At that word, in one moment, the entire scene disappeared—the maidens, the feast, the very table itself; and he sat alone on the grass! The next morning, a bright green circle was visible on the sward, in the exact spot where the cats had held their midnight dance."

The close of the above offers a solution to the much mooted question of the fairy-rings. Children may continue to indulge a blind belief in the gambols of the elf-folk, and the learned to pin their faith on the ministrations of the fungi; but for ourselves, we are inclined to assign as the true cause of the meadow-rings the midnight dancings of the witch-women in feline form.

Another tale is told of a sleeper in a garret, who was awoke by strange, unearthly noises, mingled with the voices of women, proceeding from a skylight overhead. He arose, and looked out; and behold! there sat a vast assemblage of women, all drinking and carousing. Therewith they sang

"We all drink here the sweet wine,
Burgundy wine,

Champagne wine,

And we drink the clear moonshine !"

Who in reality was the drinker of the moonshine, we leave the reader to judge.

Turning from those specimens of witchnature, who made sport beneath the stars of night, or imbibed their rays, we next find a more ponderous genus in the form of the "heavy cat," which, like the "undone widow" of Massinger" sits upon the arm" of the wayfarer.

A certain tinker was one night taking home | smith, and caused him to nail four strong iron some work which he had just finished, when, in shoes upon the good grey mare. This done, he crossing a street in a somewhat unfrequented trotted back well pleased to the stable. Arrived part of the town, he found a small black cat. at the door, he alighted and knocked. Incau"The creature came up to him, rubbed itself tiously, however, in doing so he for a single against his legs, and commenced mewing moment let go the reins; when the grey mare piteously. Now the tinker had a compassionate immediately sprang away, and vanished out of heart, and thinking that perhaps the poor sight before he was aware. In the meanwhile beast had lost its way, he took it upon his arm the other groom had related to his master all intending to carry it home with him. Scarcely, that had happened; and the farmer was beginhowever, had he proceeded far on his way when ning to feel somewhat anxious about the missing the cat began to grow heavier and heavier. At groom, when the latter made his appearance. last it became so weighty that he was obliged to Well, how have you fared?' asked the farmer. let it fall on the ground. No sooner did it reachO! well-right well!' answered the fat groom; the earth than the cat began to swell even larger than before, till in the end it became bigger than a full-sized ass! At this sight the tinker uttered an affrighted shriek, and took to his heels, never once stopping until he arrived at his own door."

Touching the foregoing legends, that in the one case the spiced cup of the too lively traveller, and in the other the drugged hanap of the over-weary, may have been chargeable with the several witcheries, is of course the suggestion of the unbeliever. But what can the most incredulous advance against the following tale, in which the dreams of the sleeper-if such the revelations of the grooms are supposed to beare confirmed in broad day by tangible evidence in the shape of two veritable horse-shoes!

[ocr errors]

One thing only vexes me; my mare has run away, and I know not whither she has gone.' Never mind,' rejoined the farmer; 'depend on it she will return to-morrow night. What a pity it is now that my wife should have been taken ill so suddenly; if she had but been well this adventure would have made her split her sides with laughing!' When the groom heard this, he pricked up his ears. The sudden sickness of his master's wife struck him as curious; and he said that he should not feel happy unless he went immediately to see his mistress and relate the tale to her. It was agreed that he should do so. As he approached her, he held out his hand, saying, 'Good day to you, mistress; they tell me you have been sick; pray how is it with you now?'' Ah! badly, very badly,' replied the woman, but without taking his hand. 'Why how is this?' inquired the cunning groom. Am I no longer worthy to shake hands with you?' As he spoke he threw back the bed-cover, and his suspicions were at once confirmed, for he beheld on the hands of the woman two strong iron horse-shoes! Without delay, he hastened to the farmer and disclosed the matter to him. The man was utterly confounded. In order to be fully certified of the truth, he sought out the blacksmith and inquired of him at what hour he had shoed the groom's horse. The smith's reply placed the story beyond all doubt. The farmer then sought out a priest, with whom he consulted as to what could be done; but the latter, after seeing and questioning the woman, pronounced it impossible to do anything for her, for he found that she had her witchcraft at seventh hand. Therefore the priest opened one of her veins and allowed her to bleed to death."

"Two grooms slept together in one bed in a stable: one was a sturdy, thick-set fellow, who grew fatter and more robust every day of his life. The other was as meagre as a skeleton, and became with each day thinner and thinner. The reason of this, the fat groom could by no means comprehend. One day he said to his companion,* How is it that you are continually wasting away thus?' The poor fellow answered, 'I will tell you how I am served: every night there comes to my bedside a strange woman, who throws a bridle over my head; instantly I am transformed into a horse, and she rides me all the night until the dawn. Alas! am I likely to increase in bulk under such circumstances?' 'Indeed, is it so?' rejoined the burly groom, who was sufficiently quick-witted; then let me take your place while you take mine; it would amuse me greatly to know how I should feel in the shape of a horse.' The meagre groom needed no second bidding, and on the following night the two changed places. Towards eleven o'clock the stable-door was softly opened, and a woman entered with a bridle in her hand. She crept cautiously to the side of the bed now occupied by the stouter groom, and attempted to throw the reins over his head; he, however, fully awake to her design, quickly seized the bridle and threw it over the woman's head. In a moment she stood before him transformed into a beautiful grey mare! Aha! good beast,' exclaimed the groom, now, by your leave, will I have a From these witch legends we learn how magic pleasant ride! And he sprang into the saddle, needles are capable of piercing the tender frames and was off out of the stable and away into the of infants, and rendering the little nurslings fields, where he galloped about right and left till sick unto death, even while lying snugly in the the very break of day. Next, he rode to a black-cabinet of the sorceress! Is not, by the way,

"A witch at seventh hand," is a common saying in Flanders. When any person is be witched, the evil spirit may be so far exorcised as to be transferred to another. She to whom it is thus transferred is called the second hand. From the second hand the magic power can be again removed to a third, fourth, fifth, and sixth. But when once it is transferred to the seventh hand, she who is thus bewitched is doomed to remain under the enchantment during her entire life.

N

the child's toy of the boxes enclosed one within another, of most suspicious origin? Witness the following:

[ocr errors]

"A milk-woman came daily to a certain house to sell her milk. The owner of the house had a little child, and every day when the woman arrived she expressed herself charmed with the child's beauty; and, taking it in her arms, would caress it with apparent fondness, crying O, thou dear, dear child!' It was singular, however, that on every such occasion the child would utter a sudden and painful cry. The mother remarked besides that the child became covered with sores, and that whenever the woman had been to the house, the sores became worse. All her efforts to heal them were ineffectual, and she at last rightly came to the conclusion that the child must be bewitched. The next time the woman made her appearance, the mother kept the child out of her way, and she begged her, as it was winter time and very cold, to sit down by the fire and warm herself. Meanwhile she called her goodman, who secretly stuck a nail in the ground beneath the stool on which the woman was seated. He then stirred the fire and made so great a blaze that the woman could scarcely endure the heat. She attempted to rise, but finding herself unable to move, she entreated the goodman to push her farther away from the fire; but he replied, Indeed I am not strong enough: you are far too heavy for me; but you are quite able to move yourself, if you will.' Thereupon the woman began to sigh and lament, and to pray the man to release her. It was now evident that she was indeed the witch through whose arts the child suffered. He charged her with the fact in no measured terms, and she at once confessed it. 'Yes,' she said, it was I who bewitched your child I stuck it all over with charmed needles. You will find them in my cabinet, in the seventh casket of the upper drawer, in a box. Here is the key; take it, and throw them away; your child will then recover. But be sure that you let the rest remain. The man took the key and

A N

opened the casket, in which he found several boxes, all containing needles, every one of which he threw away. During his search his eye lighted upon one peculiarly large box; this his curiosity induced him to open; when inside it he saw a second box, in the second a third, in the third a fourth, and so on-seven boxes in all being thus enclosed one within another. The last of these was filled with needles. Careful, not only for himself but for the welfare of his neighbours, he threw these also away, so that the witch might work no more harm. Arrived at home, he thrust her from the door, and from that time she was never seen in his house again."

Fire seems an infallible agent in the betrayal of your true witch: she may do her evil spiriting with impunity till the flame rises; but, safe as she is reputed to be in water, she evidently cannot stand fire. Scarcely a less summary proceeding than our own judicial witch-finding, is the German mode of conviction. As in the above legend, a story is current of a man whose children were pining under the dreaded spells of the sorceress, and who discovered the culprit by means of a fire kindled with the wood of certain trees selected for the purpose. "As the children grew worse and worse, he was advised to make a great fire of the wood of the beech and the elm and the oak, taking care that no other sort of fuel should be mixed therewith. This fire was to be diligently watched; for when the flames from the different kinds of wood should rise and mingle together, then the woman who entered the house first would prove to be the witch. This was done and the witch waş discovered."

Alas! for the "first foot!" Little worth must have been the "Zauberie" which failed to warn the worker of its mischief of the triple brand so cunningly devised for her destruction. But amidst all her arts and all her power over the lives of others, the sagacity needful for her own preservation is alone wanting to the witch of our Legendary Lore.

[blocks in formation]

Once more, ere yet the icy blasts of winter forbid the fieldward ramble-ere yet the piercing winds seal up the river's babblings-ere yet a snowy mantle covers the fields, the hedgebanks, and the leafless boughs-ere yet the rains descend and prevent a studious walk through quiet lanes and up hill-slopes, let us take a ramble by the hedge-row and across the again verdant ineadow, culling, as we go, a wreath of Autumn flowers, fancies, and musings. Let us

[ocr errors]

LAMARTINE.

take a farewell glance of this Great Exhibition of Nature, ere Winter, the stern Commissioner, sends forth the irrevocable decree for its closing.

See the sun shines brightly, wooing us to leave the busy haunts of men, the thronged thoroughfares, the bustle of life, and stroll where Nature still holds her leafy reign. Hark! the lark's warblings mingle with the robin's shrill twitter. Come! let us away; there are still bright flowers to greet us: the sweet pink blos

soms of the bramble may be gone, but its boughs are loaded with the rich juicy blackberries; and though we shall not meet with the elegant roses whose soft fragrancies charmed us as we wandered by those hedge-rows in the spring-time, they have been followed by the glowing scarlet berries, tinted, aye, as brightly as the most exquisite spoils of coral, wherewith the mermaid adorns her deep sea-grot. Come! let us away, for the poetess of the fields and the wild-flowers, Mary Howitt has assured us of a floral greeting

"The autumn sun is shining,

Grey mists are on the hill;
A russet tint is on the leaves,

But flowers are blooming still.
Still bright, in wood and meadow,

On moorlands dry and brown;
By little streams, by rivers broad,
On every breezy down;
The little flowers are smiling,
With chilly dew-drops wet,
And saying with a spirit voice,

"We have not vanish'd yet!"

The lark! how sweetly is he ringing out his wild, rich peal of melody, as he breasts the golden ether, and rises towards heaven's sapphire gate! Like us, he cares nought for the rain-cloud which hangs yonder, on the verge of the horizon, and which the folded petal of the greater bindweed (Calystegia sepium)—the prophet of the shower-so surely betokens as approaching. What gay and simple ravishment the lark breathes out with every cadence! how merry, yet how exquisite are his utterances! Not a brilliant passage escapes from his joyresounding throat, but seems to pour in full tide from the innermost song-wells of his being: and we hear his glad warblings, too, so frequently in our wanderings: let us roam up the hills, or through the meadow, across the cornfield, down the lane, or even by the sea-shore, he is there, overhead, with his gay, glad song, lending another charm to these beautiful scenes. This happy ubiquity of the lark has been well pourtrayed by Eliza Cook, in her fine spirited poem on "Birds"

Up in the morning, while the dew
Is splashing in crystals o'er him,
The ploughman hies to the upland rise,
But the lark is there before him.

He sings while the team is yoked to the share-
He sings when the mist is going—
He sings when the noon-tide south is fair-
He sings when the west is glowing.
Now his pinions are spread o'er the peasant's head,
Now he drops in the furrows behind him.
Oh! the lark is a merry and constant mate,
Without favour or fear to bind him."

to re

But, if we remember his song with gratitude, we must not forget the robin-redbreast, whose shrill and desultory, but not unpleasing, note, comes with the "sere and yellow leaf mind us of winter and the peaceful joys of home, the yule-log, the holly-bough, the mistletoe and its kiss-spells, the yule-feats, and the mirthmakings of merry Christmastide. He, too, hath been celebrated in poet's lays, and nowhere

[blocks in formation]

"When from my eyes this life-full throng
Has passed away, no more to be,

Then Autumn's primrose, robin's song,
Return to me."

Nothing can exceed the richness of the tinted foliage at this season, from the mellow gleam of the sea-born amber to the superb crimson of the warrior's banner: every shade of yellow, brown, and red dyes the moist glossy sprays of the woods and copses; and the delicious magic of "sunset's alchemy" seems to have been successfully essayed on the foliage of the lately verdant boughs; indeed, the author of the "Sermons in Sonnets" calls October "the sunset of the year;" and Calder Campbell says

"October! 'tis the Painter's month' its wreath
Of many-coloured leaves: its various hues,
All beautiful and rich, do yet infuse

A touch of melancholy to the thoughts,
That, in the change of nature and the death
Of vegetation, see the emblems sad

Of Man's decay! How bright the glow that floats,
Cloud-like, o'er yonder grove of beeches, clad
In green, and gold, and crimson."

It yields, indeed, a "wreath of many-coloured leaves;" for when the breeze-sighs past us,

and the dark trees rain,

Their autumn foliage rustling on our heads, it seems that our path is strewn with the brightest flowers of the summer parterre. Besides this lovely tint-bow of foliage, which reminds us of the many beautiful blossoms of vernal days now passed away, but again to revisit us, when "the winter is past, the rain is ," when "the time of the singing over and gone," of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land"-there are still a few flowers by the wayside to repay our loiterings; for though the joyous seasons are departed, there are still left the daisy (Bellis perennis) and the buttercup (Ranunculus acris) to conjure up sweet thoughts of childhood, and its daisychained pleasure-now, alas! broken from the frail floral bonds, and departed for ever! There are still left the rich deep lilac blossoms of the mallow (Malva sylvestris), so celebrated by children for its toy-seeds, and by quaint old flower-sages for its manifold curative properties. The beautiful crimson heads of clover (Trifolium pratense) are the to be met with; and though the glad golden blossoms of the silverweed (Potentilla anserina) are departed in summer's train, its beautiful flossy foliage is displayed in lustrous softness on the hedge-bank. But there are other blossoms of the golden hue lurking on the verge of our rural route; the hawkweed (Hieracium pilosella)

N 2

also

erects its starry blossom to the autumn breeze, and many a flower of both species of the ragwort (Senecio Jacobea and S. vulgaris) stand primly erect, and give bright reflex to the autumn sunbeams; but grandest of all, in golden glory, stands the fleawort (Pulicaria dysenterica), which displays many a head of its large showy flowers. There is also another tiny yellow flower blooming in this hedgebank, which though belonging to a very different order from the three last-mentioned (Asteracea), is an individual of an order no less important. It is the hedgemustard (Sisymbrium officinale), belonging to Decandolle's sub-order Notorhizeæ of the great natural family of Cruciferous, or, according to the Linnæan system Tetradynamous plants, which comprehends not only those valuable vegetables, the cabbage, turnip, radish, &c., but also the sweet-smelling wall-flower, and that celebrated vegetable dye, the woad, wherewith our British ancestors horribly stained their bodies before going to battle. We have here the pretty little plant called Cudweed (Gnaphalium arvense), which though now displaying no blossoms, is still a pleasing object from the silkiness of its flexible stems and leaves; yonder is a last straying blossom of the beautiful herb Robert (Geranium Robertianum)—beautiful both for its soft fragrance and the delicate hue of its petals; and, as if to add every rich tint to our autumn sheaf of wild flowers, the knapweed (Centaurea jacea) here invites our admiration; while another plant of the same sub-order (Corymbifera) of Composite flowers, the ploughman's spikenard (Conyza squarosa) displays a profusion of its dark green leaves and curious little flosculous blossoms.

It is amusing to recal the many quaint and remarkable things that were said of plants in the olden time, and the virtues that were ascribed to them by the credulous old herbalists. There is to the unlearned, aye, and to the learned mind, such a wonder, a beauty, and a joy, in these little herbs springing up by the wayside without care or culture, that it is not surprising men should look at them, apart from their poetic mission, as things sent forth from the Deity to minister to man's griefs, and to assuage his pains and afflictions: for when it was observed that the chiefest necessaries of life were derived from the vegetable world under man's care, the poet-physician, wandering forth into the waste, and lighting upon an unknown plant, could not but believe that this also was intended to minister to man's necessities, if not as an edible, then, better still, to eradicate the manifold diseases which might afflict his frame. And he did well too: it was far better to have this humble floral faith than to look abroad suspiciously upon all things, with the cold glance of the sceptic. But this was not all the old world thought of plants: in those days the myths of magic and witchcraft were supreme in their hold upon the human mind; and from the venom that was discovered in one class of plants and the curative properties possessed by another class, it was believed that a third or occult

[ocr errors]

virtue existed in some, which, under given circumstances and according to a preconceived system of operation, would destroy or avert malign influences, and protect man from inferior spiritual evils. For the philosophers did not then reason from experience; they built up an exquisitely proportioned system of theories, and then adapted facts to these; consequently facts were sometimes found to run against them most remarkably. It may not be amiss for us to consider some of the plants we meet with in our ramble, under the aspects they assumed to our old Botanographists.

of

Here are the tall straggling branches of that Corollifloriaceous plant, the vervain (Verbena officinalis), "which never grows far from the home of man;" whether this be true or not, we cannot now stop to discuss; at all events, though the town is three or four miles off, a gipsey's tent is often seen in this green lane, and here by the hedge-bank are the ashes of a fire, round which a circle of the dark-eyed Zingari probably feasted and chatted. This same vervain has had miraculous powers attributed to it, and the legend of its virtues dates even from the days of Druidism: it was held to be good against all diseases produced by witchcraft, sorcery, and magic; it was said to be infallible against the "bitings of serpents, mad dogs, the tarantula, and all venomous creatures." Monardus relates an extraordinary story of the manner in which an Indian physician relieved the sufferings of a noble lady by the agency this plant; and to crown all, our own Culpeper pronounces the root, "tied to the pit of the stomach by a piece of white ribbon," to be an infallible remedy against strumous disorders. Trailing among the branches of this almost leafless hedge we observe the penny royal (Mentha pulegium), belonging to the same na tural class as the preceding. This, though not much of a witch-herb, received an almost equal amount of veneration for its curative properties. Here follows the statement of its virtues according to Salmon :-"Penny royal is of subtil parts, as Galen says: it is hot and dry in the third degree, aperitive, abstersive, carminative, digestive, discussive, diuretic, incisive, vulnerary, cephalick, neurotick, stomachick, splenetick, nephritick, hysterick, sudorifick, analeptick, and alexipharmick."-A pretty comprehensive array of powers! considering the same author also states that "it resists poison, and cures such as are bitten or stung by serpents, mad dogs, and other venomous creatures" to boot! It is quite certain, however, that this herb may be usefully employed for some of the purposes above mentioned; for Professor Lindley, speaking of the order Labiated, to which pennyroyal belongs, says-" Their tonic, cordial, and stomachic qualities, due to the presence of an aromatic volatile oil and a bitter principle, are the universal features of this order, which does not contain a single unwholesome or even suspicious species." Another plant of the same class and order (claiming therefore similar virtues), which we may now find hiding its rich purple flowers

« PreviousContinue »