# New England Legends and Folk Lore/Introduction

Introduction.: Status: pages completed; primary proofreading done.
INTRODUCTION.
THE recovery of many scattered legendary waifs that not only have a really important bearing upon the early history of our country, but that also shed much light upon the spirit of its ancient laws and upon the domestic lives of its people, has seemed to me a laudable undertaking. This purpose has now taken form in the following collection of New-England Legends.
As in a majority of instances these tales go far beyond the time when the interior was settled, they naturally cluster about the seaboard; and it would scarcely be overstepping the limit separating exaggeration from truth to say that every league of the New-England coast has its story or its legend.
Disowned in an age of scepticism, there was once — and the time is not so far remote — no part of the body politic over which what we now vaguely term the legendary did not exercise the strongest influence; so that, far from being merely a record of amusing fables, these tales, which are largely founded on fact, disclose the secret springs by which society was moved and history made. One looks beneath every mechanical contrivance for the true origin of power. That is to assume that the beliefs of a people are key to its social and political movements, and that history, taken in its broadest sense, cannot be truly written without having regard to such beliefs. Had the conviction that witches existed not been universal, public sentiment would never have countenanced the executions that took place in New England.
It may be said, then, that while History has its truth, the Legend has its own; both taking for their end the portrayal of Man as he has existed in every age, — a creature in whom the imagination is supreme, and who performs deeds terrible or heroic according as it may be aroused into action.
No apology need be made for the prevalence of superstition amoung our ancestors. Our century is not the judge of its predecessors. It was a superstitious age. King Charles I. inherited all the popular beliefs. He kept, as an attaché of his court, an astrologer, whom he was accustomed to consult before entering upon any important or hazardous undertaking. Laud, the highest prelate in England, the implacable persecutor of our Puritan ancestors, was a man haunted by the fear of omens. Indeed the most exalted personages in Church and State yielded full credence to all those marvels, the bare mention of which now calls up a smile of incredulity or of pity. New England was the child of a superstitious mother.
Since the assertion is so often made that this is a practical age, owing no allegiance whatever to the degrading thraldom of ancient superstition, but coldly rejecting everything that cannot be fully accounted for upon rational grounds, I have thought it worth while to cite a few of those popular beliefs which neither the sceptical tendencies of the age we live in, nor its wonder-working achievements, have been able to eradicate. They belong exclusively to no class, and have been transmitted from generation to generation through the medium of an unwritten language, to which the natural impulse of the human mind toward the supernatural is the common interpreter. While religion itself works through this mysterious channel of the Unknown and the Unseen, one need not stop to argue a fact that has such high sanction. So long as these beliefs shall continue to exert a control over the every-day actions of men, it would be useless to deny to them a place in the movements regulating society; and so long as the twin mysteries of life and death confront us with their unsolved problems, it is certain that where reason cannot pass beyond, the imagination
will still strive to penetrate within, the barrier separating us from the invisible world. This invisible world is the realm of the supernatural.
You will seldom see a man as much in a hurry that he will not stop to pick up a horseshoe. One sees this ancient charm against evil spirits in every household. In fact this piece of bent iron has become the popular symbol for good luck. Throwing an old shoe after a departing friend is as common a practice to-day as it ever was. Very few maidens neglect the opportunity to get a peep at the new moon over the right shoulder; and the old couplet, —
          See the moon through the glass,
          You'll have trouble while it lasts, —
is still extant. I know people who could not be induced to sit with thirteen at the table, who consider spilling the salt as unlucky, and who put faith in dreams !
With Catholics the belief in the efficacy of charms and of relics is a part of their religion. It is not long since a person advertised in a public journal for a caul; while among ignorant people charms against sickness, or drowning, or evil spirits are still much worn. But their use is not wholly confined to this class; for I have myself known intelligent men who were in the habit of carrying a potato in their pocket, or of wearing a horse-chestnut suspended from the neck, as a cure for the rheumatism.
Sailors retain unimpaired most of their old superstitions concerning things lucky or unlucky. Farmers are invariably a superstitious folk, — at least in those places where they have lived from generation to generation. The pretty and touching custom of telling the bees of a death in the family is, as I have reason to know, a practice still adhered to in some parts of the country. The familiar legend of the hedgehog remains a trusted indication of an early or a late spring. Farmers have many superstitions that have been domesticated among them for centuries. For instance, it is a common belief that if a creature loses its cud the animal will die unless one is obtained for it by dividing
the cud of another beast. A sick cow will recover by having a live frog pass through her; but the frog must be living, or the charm will not work. If a dog is seen eating grass, it is a sign of wet weather; so it is if the grass is spotted with what is vulgarly called frogs' spittle. The girls believe that if you can form a wish while a meteor is falling, the wish will be fulfilled; they will not pluck the common red field-lily, for fear it will make them become freckled. In the country there are still found persons plying the trade of fortune-telling, while the number of haunted houses is notably increasing. The "lucky-bone" of a codfish and the "wishing-bone" of a chicken are things of wide repute.
Plants and flowers — those beautiful emblems of immortality — have from immemorial time possessed their peculiar attributes or virtues. There are the mystic plants, and there are the symbolical ones, like the evergreens used in church-decoration and in cemeteries. Where is the maiden who has not diligently searched up and down the fields for the bashful four-leaved clover ? How many books enclose within their leaves the little token of some unspoken wish ! The oracle of the Marguerite in Goethe's "Faust," —
                Il m'aime;
                Il m'aime beaucoup;
                A la folie;
                Pas du tout, —
may oftener be consulted to-day than many a fair questioner of Fate would be willing to admit. Let those who will, say that all this is less than nothing; yet I much doubt if the saying will bring conviction to the heart of womankind.
Precious stones continue to hold in the popular mind something of their old power to work good or evil to the wearer. A dealer in gems tells me that the sale of certain stones is materially affected by the superstitions concerning them. It will be seen that some of these superstitions attach to the most important concerns of life. My friend the dealer, who is quite as well versed in his calling as Mr. Isaacs was, says that the
opal is the gem that is most frequently spoken of as unlucky, and that the sale of the opal of late years has been very slow on that account. "It seems," he continues, "as if many ladies really believed that it would bring them misfortune to wear or even to own an opal; and we frequently hear ladies say that they would not accept one as a gift." Some writers attribute this unpopularity to Scott's "Anne of Geierstein." This, at least, is a modern superstition; for the opal was once considered a talisman of rare virtue.
An old jeweller tells me that he frequently sells a moonstone as a "lucky stone." It is of little pecuniary value, but he says that it is worn in rings and charms as bringing good luck. The moonstone has furnished Wilkie Collins with the theme for one of his weird tales.
My informant goes on to say that "a fine turquoise is of a beautiful blue, — about the color of a robin's egg. For some reason not perfectly understood it changes from blue to green, and sometimes to white. I own a turquoise myself, which I am sure changes color, sometimes looking green, and sometimes blue. This change of color gave rise to the belief that the color of a turquoise varied with the health of the wearer, being blue when the wearer was in good health, and white or green in case of ill-health. The emerald is said to be the symbol of jealousy, — 'the green-eyed monster.' For this reason it is not considered as being suitable for an engagement-ring. I don't know that I ever heard of one being offered as an engagement-gift; and if a young gentleman should ask my advice in regard to buying an emerald ring for this purpose, I should dissuade him, on the ground that the young lady might look upon it as a bad omen." This feeling or superstitism is used in Black's story of "The Three Feathers," in which a marriage is prevented by the gift of an emerald ring; "for," says the novelist, "how could any two people marry who had engaged themselves with an emerald ring ?" A sapphire, on the contrary, given by another admirer, brings matters to a happy conclusion; once more fulfilling the prophecy of an old rhyme, —
             Oh, green's forsaken,
             And yellow's forsworn,
             And blue's the sweetest
             Color that's worn !
There certainly is a difference in the way that all these beliefs are received, — some people subscribing to them fully and frankly, while others, who do not like to be laughed at by their sceptical neighbors, speaking of them as trifles. But such doubters may be better judged by their acts than by their professions, — at least so long as they are willing to try the potency of this or that charm, "just to see how it will come out."
To return to the legendary pieces that compose this volume, it is proper to state that only certain poetic versions have hitherto been accessible to the public, and that consequently impressions have been formed that these versions were good and valid narratives; while the fact is that the poems are not so much designed to teach history or its truth, as to illustrate its spirit in an effective and picturesque manner. Yet in most cases they do deal with real personages and events, and they stand for faithful relations.
It was this fact that first gave me the idea of bringing the prose and poetic versions together, in order that those interested, more especially teachers, might have as ready access to the truth, as hitherto they have had to the romance, of history.
For enabling me to carry out this idea my thanks are especially due to Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., who promptly granted me their permission to use the several extracts taken from the poems of Longfellow, Whittier, and Holmes; and I beg all those literary friends who have extended the like courtesy to accept the like acknowledgment.
S. A. D.
MELROSE, Mass., Oct. 1883.