# Transactions of the Second International Folk-Congress/The Saliva Superstition

THE SALIVA SUPERSTITION.
By J. E. CROMBIE.
There seems to be a general belief all over the world in the magical property of saliva, and we find people applying it in a great many ways, and for a great many purposes. I find these fall, roughly, into five great classes: I shall give one or two examples of each; doubtless many others will occur to you as I proceed.
Firstly, people spit to ward off ill-luck from themselves or others. Instances of this are afforded us by the Yorkshire custom of spitting when one meets a white horse; by the Zulu custom of summoning a sorcerer to spit when a dog gets on the top of one's house; by the Hungarian custom of running to a tree, boring a hole in the stem, and spitting three times into it, should one hear the cuckoo for the first time in spring when one is in a recumbent position; and by the Minahassan custom of spitting when one mentions the name of one's parents-in-law, to prevent an attack of boils.
Secondly, people spit to protect themselves or others against sorcery or witchcraft, and particularly against that form of it caused by the evil eye. For example, Pliny recommends us to spit in the eye of everyone that limpeth, or is lame of the right leg, when we meet them; and Miss Garnett tells us that at the reception held by an Osmanli mother, after the birth of her child, each visitor is expected, after looking at the baby, to spit on it, and conceal her admiration by applying to it some disparaging remark.
Thirdly, people spit to prevent themselves catching infection. For example, the Greeks used to spit thrice in their breasts when they saw a madman, and Pliny tells us that when we see ​anyone taken with epilepsy we ought to spit on them, "so that we ourselves avoid the contagion of the said disease."
Fourthly, people spit to cure disease in themselves or others, or transfer infection. For example, when persons rub their warts with fasting-spittle, in the belief that it will take them away, or spit in the drug they mean to administer to an invalid, or anoint his diseased limb with their saliva, or when, as Mr. Leland tells us, in Hungary the man suffering from an attack of fever goes to a tree, bores a hole in its stem, spits thrice into it, and retires after repeating the spell:
"Fever, fever, go away, Here shalt thou stay."
Fifthly, people spit at the making of a bargain, or at a compact of any kind. For example, Parry, in his first voyage, tells us that whenever the Esquimaux of River Clyde Inlet were presented with anything, they licked it twice with their tongues, after which they considered the bargain satisfactorily concluded. And Mr. Henderson, in his Folk-lore of the Northern Counties, relates how in his schooldays the boys used to spit their faith when required to make asseveration on any matter deemed important, and says: "Many a time have I given and received a challenge according to the following formula: 'I say. Bill, will you fight Jack?' 'Yes.' 'Jack, will you fight Bill?' 'Yes.' 'Best cock spit over my little finger.' Jack and Bill both do so, and a pledge thus sealed was considered so sacred that no schoolboy would dare to hang back from its fulfilment."
Lastly, in Masailand, Mr. Thompson tells us that, when he purchased a bullock, the bargain was not finally concluded till the Masai had spat on the head of the animal, and his men had done the same on the beads they were going to give in exchange. I believe two theories have been advanced to account for this superstition.
The one generally offered, and which bears on its face a certain degree of probability, is that people spit in order to get rid of something pernicious within themselves. That is undoubtedly ​true in the case of the Messalians, whom Dr. Tylor tells us spat and blew their noses to expel the demons they had drawn in with their breath, and might partly explain one or two others of the cases I have mentioned. Another explanation is that people spit to show their humility, and the believers in this idea point to the case mentioned by Pliny of spitting in one's own breast when one craves pardon of the gods for any particularly audacious request. It may partially explain this particular instance.
But I do not think that either of these theories will explain the reason of the Masai spitting on his bullock, and Mr. Thompson's men on the beads; nor will they explain the reason why the mere act of the stranger's spitting on a baby when he looks at it, should at once free him of all suspicion of desiring to bewitch it. The last instance is particularly curious, for one would imagine, that if an individual is suspected of entertaining malevolent designs, the less one has to do with him the better. And that above all things, such a very magical thing as his saliva should be tabooed instead of welcomed. It seems to me that the only theory that will answer this somewhat anomalous case, and explain the majority of the cases we meet with, is that at one time the life of a man must have once been generally believed to have been bound up in his saliva; just as it can be shown that the life of a man has been very generally believed to have been bound up in his blood. And that therefore the spitting rite is a parallel to the blood rite.
This is what Professor Robertson Smith says about the latter: "The notion that by eating the flesh, or particularly by drinking the blood of another human being, a man absorbs its nature or life into its own, is one which appears among primitive peoples in many forms. It lies at the root of the widespread practice of drinking the fresh blood of enemies, and also of the habit observed by many savage huntsmen of eating some part of dangerous carnivora, in order that the courage of the animal may pass into them. But the most notable application of the idea is in the rite of blood brotherhood, examples of which are found all over the world. In the simplest form of the rite two men become brothers by opening their veins and sucking one another's blood. Thenceforth their lives are not two, but one. . . . This ​form of covenant is still known in the Lebanon and in some parts of Arabia."
The mainspring of the blood covenant, then, is that the blood is the vehicle for the conveyance of the life. But it would appear that saliva is sometimes regarded as the vehicle containing the life also. For instance, we read that every year the Khonds offered a human sacrifice to the Earth Goddess; and while any relic from his person was much sought after, a drop of his saliva was considered a sovereign remedy, especially by the women. Now we know that Algonkin women who wished to become mothers flocked to the side of a dying person, in the hope of receiving and being impregnated by the passing soul; and we know also that among the gipsies of Eastern Europe one of the most potent charms for bringing about pregnancy is the drinking by the woman of water into which her husband has spat. It would appear, therefore, that the idea present in the minds of Algonkin, Khond, and gipsy women is the same. All believe in the transference of life, only the one takes a more ethical view of it, while the others take a more materialistic one, and fix upon saliva as the vehicle for the conveyance of it.
I think, then, that I am right in saying that the element of life is sometimes believed to exist in the saliva.
Now we generally find that when the same idea is attached to two different objects, these objects become interchangeable. Therefore, if our reasoning is sound, and blood and saliva are both vehicles containing the element of life, we ought to find saliva being used occasionally in place of blood, and playing the same rôle under similar circumstances. We might, therefore, expect to find among some savage races a custom analogous to the blood covenant of the Lebanon, when, instead of licking each other's blood, the two individuals would lick each other's saliva.
The nearest approach to such a very primitive state of affairs is met with among the Masai. Among this people, Mr. Thompson tells us that spitting expresses the greatest goodwill and the best wishes. People spat when they met and when they parted; ​and the part spat upon seems to have been just under the nose.
However, even with the Masai, the custom was evidently in a state of decay, for Mr. Thompson mentions that they did not insist upon spitting on him, but contented themselves with merely going through the form.
That examples of the actual personal interchange of saliva should be rare need not surprise us. Instances of the actual sucking of blood are also comparatively rare; for, as civilisation proceeded, the drinking of human blood would become repulsive and performed symbolically only. Thus Speke mentions that among the Unyamuezi the most sacred bond known is made by commingling the blood, which they perform by cutting incisions in each other's legs, and letting the blood trickle together. And just as the use of saliva would probably mark an epoch of milder and less brutal manners, so we would expect to find it following on the lines of the milder, and less repulsive, forms of blood covenant, and expect to find many more cases of commingling it than consuming it. That is indeed the case, and instances of commingling the saliva are numerous. For example, in the "Younger Edda" we read that the Aesir and the Vanir made a covenant of peace, and in token of it each party stepped up to a vessel, and let fall into it their saliva. In South Hungary, Mr. Leland tells us that on Easter Monday the gipsies made a wooden box called the bichapen—"the thing sent as a gift" "In this, at the bottom, are two sticks, laid across as in a ' cradle', and on these are laid herbs and other fetich stuff, which everyone touches with the finger, then the whole is enveloped in a winding of white and red wool, and is carried by the oldest person of the tribe from tent to tent, after which it is borne to the next running stream, and left there after everyone has spat on it. By doing this, they think that all the diseases and disorders which would have befallen them during the coming year are conjured into the box."
In Newcastle, also, on the occasion of the colliers beginning an agitation for increased wages. Brand tells us that it was customary for the men to spit on a stone together, by way of cementing their confederacy. We have already seen how Mr. Henderson and his ​schoolmates spat their faith. So, just as the Unyamuezi commingle their blood, so the Newcastle collier, the Hungarian gipsy, the ancient Scandinavian, and the North Country school-boy commingle their saliva at the making of their solemn compacts. May we not infer that both practices are due to a common belief in the interchange of life, and therefore of the making of the interests of both parties identical? But it may be objected that, in by far the larger number of cases we meet with, the spitting is entirely one-sided, and there appears to be no trace of its ever having been mutual. Precisely the same thing takes place in the case of blood under certain circumstances, when, for instance, the persons are relatives. For example, we are told that the Carib father, on the birth of his child, is accustomed to let some of his blood trickle over it, in order to hand on the strong pure life of the clan to the puny little infant; and the Australians, at their initiation ceremonies, either let the blood of old tribesmen flow over the novices, or else give it to them to drink, with the same meaning. If the one-sidedness of the bleeding does not vitiate the life-theory in blood, neither ought the one-sidedness of the spitting to vitiate the life-theory in the case of the saliva.
Now if we look over the instances of one-sided spitting, we will find that many of them take place between relatives. For instance, we are told that Mahomet, when Hassan his grandson was born, spat in his mouth. With the Carib practice before us, we can hardly doubt but that the motive is the same. We also read that, at the conferring of its prænomen upon a Roman child, part of the ceremony consisted in the aunt or grandmother lustrating the child with her saliva. It is true that in the last example we are told that it was believed that the lustration prevented the child from being bewitched; but this, I think, instead of weakening my plea, that the original idea of the ceremony was the handing on of the family life, considerably strengthens my position. For if we reflect that the general symptoms of a case of bewitchment are the gradual wasting away of the person bewitched, and enormous diminution of vital energy, owing to the magical withdrawal of the bewitched person's ​life, we can understand that the most natural way to prevent a fatal issue would be to increase the store of life in the sufferer as much as possible. We shall, perhaps, understand this better if we first look at the curative application of saliva. For example, you will recollect a curious recipe Pliny gives us for curing a crick in the neck. It consists in rubbing the sufferer's thighs with another man's fasting-spittle. It was also the favourite cure of my old nurse for our growing-pains. Then everyone knows that it was by the direct application of his saliva that our Saviour cured the blind and dumb.
Now let us see if blood is ever used as a salve for curative purposes. There are many examples. Among certain tribes in Australia, we are told that it is usual, when one of their number is sick, for the other members of the family to draw blood from their own bodies, and give it him to drink; and among the Guamos of the Orinocco we read that it is the duty of the chief, on the occasion of a clansman falling ill, to draw some blood from his own body for the purpose of anointing the stomach of the invalid, and thereby infusing new life into his vitiated system. But we have seen that life is believed to be existent in the saliva, and capable of being transferred in it. Therefore, when we find instances of people spitting to cure disease of any kind, I think we may infer that they are really actuated by the same motive as the Australians or the Orinocco chiefs when they give their blood to their sick tribesmen.
And now we may understand the full significance of the spitting at the Roman lustration ceremony. It does not keep witchcraft away: it only makes the child better able to resist and survive it. Why? Because its weak store of life has been implemented with the strong life of its maturer relatives passed on to it in their saliva.
In the same way, I think we can account for the practice of spitting to avoid infection; and an instance quoted by Mr. Turner of what he saw done in Samoa seems to throw some light upon the question. He tells us that among the Samoans, when a man was ill, his relatives used to assemble to "confess and throw out", as it was called. That is to say, each man confessed whether he had wished the invalid any evil, and, in order to show that he ​revoked all his imprecations, took a little water in his mouth and spurted it out towards him. Now if, alongside of this, we place Pliny's advice to spit on anyone whom he may see taken with an epileptic fit, we can easily see that the original idea of spitting might have been to cure the invalid, by the transference to him of a fresh instalment of the tribal life. But how does that account for the belief that the spitting will prevent the onlooker from taking infection? Let us direct our attention to Mr. Turner's example, and let us suppose that, when all the family assemble to "confess and throw out", one member conspicuously absents himself. It seems to me that his friends would have some grounds for suspecting him of having cursed the sick man, and been the cause of his illness. And as we find that, generally speaking, primitive retribution partakes of the "eye for an eye" character, it is conceivable that the absentee would in turn be cursed by the rest of the family, and wished the same disease as he had wished the invalid, and would, out of sheer terror, probably take ill. It would, therefore, be politic for all the friends of the sick man to attend at any ceremony of the kind. Nor need the ceremony necessarily be confined to members of the invalid's family. Anyone who came in contact with him might be suspected of harbouring malicious designs, and the only way for such a person to avoid suspicion would be to spit. Hence it would be wise for anyone who came in contact with any invalid to spit in his presence, thereby testifying his willingness to give his life to make the sick man strong, and disarming suspicion and its consequences.
Further, if we accept the idea that the life of the family or clan may sometimes be believed to be in the saliva, we can explain the custom of a stranger spitting on an infant when he looks on it, or on a witch when he meets one. Here, as before, we get the hint from the blood rite. "On one occasion", says Livingstone, "I became a blood relation to a young African woman by accident. She had a large cartilaginous tumour between the bones of her forearm, which, as it gradually enlarged, so distended the muscles as to render her unable to work. She applied to me to excise it, and, when removing the tumour, one of the small arteries spurted some blood into my eye. She remarked, when I ​was wiping the blood out of it, 'You were a friend before, now you are a blood relation; and when you pass this way, always send me word, and I will cook for you'."
Then Burckhardt, in his book on the Bedouins, tells us, if A, a thief, having been caught by B, is being abused by him, can manage to spit on C, C is bound to defend A against B, and even kill B in A's defence, although B be a tribesman of his own. Now, if a speck of blood in Livingstone's eye converted him from a friend into a blood relation of the African woman, if a speck of saliva turned an Arab of a hostile tribe into a friend and defender, is it too great an inference to draw that the spitting on a little child, or on a witch, was performed with the same intention? In the one case it was prompted by goodwill, and meant to show that the spitter, so far from wishing the baby ill, was wishing to join his life to it in a bond of brotherhood. In the other it was prompted by fear, and done with the object of turning one who might be hostile into a friend, and therefore rendering the employment by her of her occult arts both unlikely and unnatural. And if instead of "witch" we write "bogey" of any kind—death, for instance, and the numerous objects symbolising or foretelling it—we can explain a thousand-and-one cases of why people spit. A curious confirmation of this theory has just been afforded by Professor Rhys. He mentioned incidentally, while criticising Mr. Leland's paper on "Etruscan Magic", that in the Isle of Man it was believed that if one could scratch a witch or an enemy with a pin, so as to draw a little of their blood, it deprived them of the power of injuring the person who performed this operation. It is the converse of the reason I give for spitting on a witch, and exactly parallel to the reason I give for the spittle of a suspected person being considered such a signal proof of friendship. The idea underlying the bloodletting and the spitting is, however, the same. The merit lies in the belief that "ae corby winna pick oot anither corbie's eyne". Nor does it appear to me to detract in the least from the plausibility of my theory that on rare occasions the spitter spat in his own breast. We know that the spittle of South Sea Island chiefs is buried with them in some secret place where no sorcerer can find it. We also know the precautions taken to destroy hair ​and nail-parings for the same cause. That a man spits in his breast only shows that he is torn by two superstitious ideas, and is attempting to sit on the rail. I think, too, that my theory explains more satisfactorily than any other I know the practice of the Hungarian who dreads an attack of fever, or actually has an attack of fever, going to a tree and spitting into its stem. It seems to me that we see in both cases a very old belief in a changing and changed state. For an explanation of it we must go back to long-forgotten times, when the Hungarian worshipped trees as gods, considering that they were endowed with a divine life that was shared in by himself, and believed that their divinity would protect, and was bound to protect him when threatened with danger or disaster of any kind. And if we think of that, and if we recollect how the priests of Baal, at the contest between the god of Tyre and the God of Israel, shed their own blood at the altar in order to recommend themselves to their deity, whom they believed was bound to look after them, we may see that it was the same idea of establishing or renewing a physical bond between himself and his deity that drove the Hungarian, when the impending disaster threatened him, to fly to the tree and spit. That ultimately the materialistic idea of spitting merely to throw out disease should have overgrown the older and more religious idea need not surprise us. Examples of the same kind meet us on all sides; this one only further confirms the truth of the statement that the religion of one age becomes the superstition of the next. I do not know whether I have succeeded in convincing you of what I started out to prove, that just as there is a "blood covenant", so there is a "saliva covenant", and that both rest upon the same conception. Still less do I know whether, in attributing the extensive use of saliva to a belief in its being the vehicle of life, I have hit the real reason of the curious custom, and answered the question of why men spit; for the ways of primitive man are not our ways, neither are his thoughts our thoughts. Perhaps the best that can be said for my theory, and all I claim for it, is, that it introduces a little method into the seeming madness of a wide-spread and curious superstition.
* ↑ Leland, Gypsy Sorcery, p. 18.
* ↑ Naturalist in the Celebes, p. 280.
* ↑ Nat. Hist., xxviii, 4.
* ↑ Women of Turkey, vol. ii, 475.
* ↑ First Voyage, vol. i, p. 279.
* ↑ Op cit. p. 32,
* ↑ Masailand, p 166 (ed. 1887)
* ↑ Religion of the Semites, p. 295.
* ↑ Wild Tribes of Khondistan, p. 54.
* ↑ Golden Bough, vol. i, p. 239.
* ↑ Gypsy Sorcery, p. 101.
* ↑ Masailand, p. 166.
* ↑ Speke's Journal, p. 96.
* ↑ Gypsy Sorcery, p. 15.
* ↑ Rochefort, Hist. nat. el mor. des Isles Antilles, p. 552; Frazer, Totemism, p. 45.
* ↑ Brand, Popular Antiquities.
* ↑ Frazer, Totemism, p. 45.
* ↑ Samoa, p. 141.
* ↑ Travels in South Africa, p. 489.
* ↑ Bedouins, p. 92.