In some parts of this county the following things are considered unlucky:

To meet a squinting woman, unless you speak to her, which breaks the charm.

To go a journey on a Friday.

To be one of a party of thirteen at Christmas.

To have a cut onion lying about in the house breeds distemper.

To cross knives accidentally at meal times.

To walk under a ladder.

For the first young lamb you see in a season, or a colt, to have its tail towards you.

To kill a lady-cow (in Dorsetshire called "God Almighty's cow").

For a sportsman to meet an old woman when going out shooting is a sure sign of bad sport.

To put the bellows on a table will evoke a quarrel.

To keep Christmas holly about the house after Candlemas Day, in which case it is believed the Father of Evil will come and pull it down himself.

To put salt on another person's plate at table. The superstition that overturning salt at table is unlucky is said to have originated with Leonardo da Vinci's picture of the Last Supper, where Judas is represented as overturning the salt; but this little incident in the picture was more likely the result than the cause of the superstition.

To see the first of the new moon through a window, or glass of any sort, is also unlucky. But if you see it in the open air, turn the money in your pocket, and express a wish for luck during the ensuing month; you are supposed to ensure it.

"Always kill your pig in the new moon, or the fat will run," is an old saying.

It is unlucky to point to the moon, there being a notion that the "man" who was transported to that satellite for stealing sticks won't stand being pointed at.

To have a female come into your house the first thing on New Year's morning. So extensively does this absurdity prevail, that in many towns young lads make "a good thing of it" by selling their services to go round and enter the houses first that morning.

As to cutting your nails on a Sunday, the following couplet is very expressive:

This is varied in some districts, thus—

The itching of the nose is a sign of bad news, or, as some have it, that "you will be kissed, cursed, or vexed, or shake hands with a fool." If the ear itches, you may expect news from the living; if the face burns, some one is talking about you; when you shudder, a person is walking over the spot where your grave will be; and if your foot itches it is a sign you will tread on strange ground.

To make presents of knives or scissors will be sure to cut off love or friendship; but if something is given in exchange, it prevents this bad effect.

Babies must never have their nails cut, but bitten, to prevent their becoming thieves.

To snuff out a candle accidentally entails the fate of not getting married in the same year.

It is in the highest degree unlucky to give your neighbour a light at Christmas time, or New Year's Day; and those who have neglected to lay in a stock of matches at that season often have to repent the oversight by being unable to light their fires in the morning, and in most cases amongst the poor neither prayers nor entreaties will induce them to part with their fire.

At Mathon, some people believe that if land is left unsown in a field, there will be a death in the family within the year; and when the accident is discovered they do not sow it again (see Mr. Watson's sketch of that parish).

Omens, or tokens of death, adhere to the popular belief to a more general extent than any other relic of superstition, perhaps one third of the population attaching more or less credit to them. It would be impossible to enumerate all these idle fancies, but among them are prominently the howling of a dog, a winding sheet in the candle, and the issuing of light from a candle after it is blown out.

A piece of curled tallow (winding sheet) on a candle has been scarcely ever known to fail as prophetic of death in the family or among friends.

When a single crow flies over you it is the sign of a funeral; two are a certain prognostication of a wedding.

A bit of coal popped from the fire must resemble either a purse or a coffin, and consequently good luck or death.

To have a long succession of black cards (spades or clubs) dealt to a person while at play is prophetic of death to himself or some member of the family.

When a corpse is limp, it is a sign that another death will happen in the house.

To have apples and blossoms on a tree at the same time is a sign of a forthcoming death in the family.

If a white bean grow in the garden it is a sure sign of death.

Any appearance among plants in the garden not understood is considered "a token." Thus a rose whose flower has any leaves intermixed with the red petals, as sometimes happens, is called a "death rose," and foretells death to some of the family.

The first snowdrop brought into the house betokens the death of the gatherer.

It is bad luck for any one to go through a house with a spade on his shoulder.

If a woman go into a neighbour's house before she is "churched," some great misfortune will befall her.

It is unlucky to have rain on a wedding day.

Old shoes thrown after a person leaving the house are supposed to be a source of great prosperity. This is practised by the highest classes in the county, especially at weddings.

So many mince pies you eat at Christmas, so many happy months you will spend during the year.

A donkey braying is an infallible sign of rain.

To cut your hair during the increase of the moon is said to ensure its favourable growth.

A bright speck in the candle is a sure indication that a letter is coming to the individual to whom it points.

If the sun shines warmly on Christmas Day there will be many fires in the ensuing year.

"A great year for nuts a great year for (the birth of) children," is a common saying, and double nuts presage twins.

Tea-drinking is made to foreshadow a large number of the casualties of life, including the receipt of presents, the visits of strangers, obtaining sweethearts, and the like, merely from the appearance of the tea and the "grounds" or settlement in the cup.

To leave a teapot lid open undesignedly is an indication that a stranger is coming; and when a cock crows in your doorway, or a bit of black stuff hangs on the bar of the grate, it is a sign of a similar event.

It is believed in many districts that some persons have white livers, and that if a woman marry a man having such a phenomenon inside him, she must die within twelve months.

The first time a baby is taken out of the lying-in room the nurse must carry it to the highest part of the house for good luck, and that it may "rise in the world."

The colliers at Dudley, in the event of a fatal accident to one of their number, all in the same pit immediately cease from working until the body is buried. A certain sum is also spent in drink, and is called "dead money." The same custom, more or less modified, prevails in many districts.

The "seventh son of a seventh son" is believed to be endowed with extraordinary curative powers in certain diseases, and the same with regard to a daughter under similar circumstances.

In the vicinity of the Malvern hills there is a superstition among the poorer people that when any one is bitten by a viper—which reptile is occasionally to be met with in bushy ground about the southern part of the range—if it can be killed forthwith, an ointment made from its liver will be a specific for the wound.

A "handsel," or first money received for an article sold, if taken from a particular person or under particular circumstances, Mr. Lees says, is supposed to be productive of good luck; and some complain that they cannot do business for want of a handsel from the person of whom they wish to receive it.

In the year 1643, when some thieves plundered the house of Mr. Rowland Bartlett, at Castle Morton, among other things they took a "cock eagle stone, for which thirty pieces had been offered by a physician, but refused." These eagle stones were Ætites, a variety of argillaceous oxide of iron; they were hollow, with a kernel or nucleus, sometimes moveable, and always differing from the exterior in colour and density. The ancients superstitiously believed that this pebble was found in the eagle's nest, and that the eggs could not be hatched without its assistance. Many other absurd stories were raised about this fossil.

The custom of burying exclusively on the south side of churchyards prevails very generally in the rural districts of this county, except where the smallness of the ground or the extent of the population has rendered it compulsory to use the north side, which, however, was formerly reserved for suicides and strangers. Many fanciful theories have been invented to account for this preference of the south side, but the most probable is, that, as the principal entrance to the church was usually on that side, it was natural for burials to be there also, that the deceased might have the benefit (so accounted in those days) of the prayers of the congregation as they walked to and fro and beheld the inscriptions.

The very ancient custom of divination by the flight of birds is not yet forgotten. The robin and wren are birds of good augury: if a raven flies over a house, there will soon be a corpse there. The number of magpies met with as you set out on a journey indicates what is to happen:

Mr. Allies tells of a remarkable superstition that prevailed not many years ago at Suckley, where the country people used to talk a great deal about "The Seven Whistlers," and that they oftentimes at night heard six out of these seven whistlers pass over their heads; but that no more than six of them were ever heard at once, for when the seven should whistle together there would be an end of the world. This is supposed to have some reference to fairy lore, and is still believed by the Leicestershire colliers, who, when they hear "the whistlers," will not venture below ground, thinking that death to some one is foreboded. The superstition has probably a German origin.

Fern seed is supposed to make the gatherer walk invisible; but as the fern is said to bloom and seed only at twelve o'clock at Midsummer night, the seed can only be caught by using twelve pewter plates; the seed will then pass through eleven of the plates and rest on the twelfth.

There was formerly a "holy thorn" at Redmarley Farm, Acton Beauchamp, but it was cut down a few years ago because of the number of persons who went to see it. It is stated that the person who cut it down broke his leg and his arm soon afterwards, and the premises were burnt down. A similar thorn may be seen (as Mr. Lees informs us) in the hedge of a garden at Cherry Green, Alfrick.

A superstition exists in some parts of the county that if pieces of the alder tree are carried in the waistcoat pocket they will be a safeguard against rheumatism. In Wyre Forest, near Bewdley, is a botanical curiosity, namely, the celebrated old Pyrus domestica, said to be the only tree of the kind growing wild in England. It is of the same kind as the "Rowan," or mountain ash, which was and even now is vulgarly worn as a remedy against witchcraft. It is most thought of by the common people, and there are various traditions concerning it. The name given to the tree is "the witty pear-tree"—the mountain ash being also called "the whitty tree," and the leaves of this tree are very similar. One of our Naturalist Field Clubs visited it in August, 1853: vegetation was then entirely confined to its top boughs, which however still held a few pears on them. Some hermit, or reputed "wise man," probably planted this tree, and derived part of his subsistence by distributing its leaves and fruit, as a protection against witchcraft.

In April, 1856, a poor woman, residing in a village about three miles from Pershore, acting upon the advice of her neighbours, brought her child, who was suffering from whooping cough, to that town, for the purpose of finding out a married couple answering to the names of Joseph and Mary, and soliciting their interference on behalf of her afflicted child, as she had been informed that if two married persons having those names could but be induced to lay their hands on her child's head, the whooping cough would be immediately cured. After scouring the town for a considerable time in search of "Joseph and his fair lady," they were at length discovered in the persons of a respectable tradesman and his wife residing in Bridge Street, to whom the poor silly woman made known her foolish request, which at first excited a smile from the good woman of the house, but was quickly followed, not by "the laying on of hands," but by good advice, such as mothers only know how to give in these matters. The poor mother then thankfully departed a wiser woman.

In the rural districts great faith is put in rings made of the shillings and sixpences given at the sacrament, and many clergymen have told me of repeated applications having been made to them for sacrament shillings, for the purpose of keeping away the evil spirit, or as a remedy for fits. Mr. Watson, in his History of Hartlebury, says that he believes nearly every person in that district who was subject to fits wore such a ring. And there is another parish in the county where I am told even Protestant poor go to the Romanist priest to have the relics of saints applied for the cure of diseases.

The Worcester papers in the year 1845 recorded that a person from this city, being on a visit to a friend about four miles distant, had occasion to go into the cottage of a poor woman, who had a child afflicted with the whooping-cough. In reply to inquiries as to her treatment of the child, the mother pointed to its neck, on which was a string fastened, having nine knots tied in it. The poor woman stated that it was the stay-lace of the child's godmother, which, if applied exactly in that manner round about the neck, would be sure to charm away the most troublesome cough!

An infallible recipe for the cure of ague is said to be the following: Go to a grafter of trees, and tell him your complaint. You must not give him any money, or there will be no cure. You go home, and in your absence the grafter cuts the first branch of a maiden ash, and the cure takes place instantly on cutting the branch from the tree.

A Worcestershire woman was asked the other day why she did not attend church on the three Sundays on which her banns of marriage were proclaimed? She replied that she should never dream of doing so unlucky a thing; and on being questioned as to the kind of ill-luck that would have been expected to have followed up her attendance at church, she said that all the offspring of such a marriage would be born deaf and dumb, and that she knew a young woman who would persist in going to church to hear her banns "asked out," and whose six children were in consequence all deaf and dumb!

At a certain country church in Worcestershire, on a Sunday early in 1856, there were three christenings, two boys and a girl. The parents of one boy were in a very respectable class of life; the parents of the two other children were in humble circumstances. The parties at the font had been duly placed by the officiating clergyman, and as it happened, the girl and sponsors were placed last in order. When the first child—who was the boy of the poor parents—was about to be baptized, the woman who carried the little girl elbowed her way up to the clergyman, in order that the child she carried might be the first to be baptized. To do this she had (very contrary to the usual custom of the poor, who, in essential points, are generally as refined as their superiors) to rudely push past "her betters"—i. e. the sponsors of the second boy. As she did so she said to one of the sponsors—by way of apology—"It's a girl; so it must be christened first;" and christened first it was. But the peculiar manner in which this was brought about showed that the woman was influenced by some curious feeling; and on the next day, an opportunity was taken to discover her motive. This was her explanation: "You see, sir, the parson bain't a married man, and consequentially is disfamiliar with children, or he'd a never put the little girl to be christen'd after the boys. And though it sadly flustered me, sir, to put myself afore my betters in the way which I was fosed to do; yet, sir, it was a doing of a kindness to them two little boys, in me a setting of my girl afore 'em." "Why?" "Well, sir! I har astonished as you don't know. Why, sir, if them little boys had been christened afore the little girl, they'd have had her soft chin, and she'd have had their hairy beards—the poor little innocent! But thank goodness! I've kep her from that misfortin!" And the woman really believed that she had done so; and the generality of her neighbours shared her belief. Let this be a warning to clergymen, more especially to bachelors, who would stand well in the opinions of their poorer parishioners!

BELLS

were formerly a prolific source of superstition. There is a valley in Nottinghamshire, where a village is said to have been swallowed up by an earthquake, and it was the custom on Christmas Day morning for the people to assemble in this valley and listen to the fancied ringing of the church bells underground. At Abbot's Morton there is a tradition that the silver bells belonging to the abbot are buried in the site of his old residence there. At Ledbury, a legend relates that St. Katharine had a revelation that she was to travel about, and not rest at any place, till she heard the bells ringing of their own accord. This was done by the Ledbury bells on her approaching that town. When the church at Inkberrow was rebuilt on a new site in ancient days, it was believed that the fairies took umbrage at the change, as they were supposed to be averse to bells; they accordingly endeavoured to obstruct the building, but, as they did not succeed, the following lamentation was occasionally heard by the startled rustics:

Many years ago the twelve parish churches in Jersey each possessed a beautiful and valuable peal of bells; but during a long civil war, the states determined on selling these bells to defray the heavy expenses of their army. The bells were accordingly collected and sent to France for that purpose; but, on the passage, the ship foundered, and everything was lost, to show the wrath of Heaven at the sacrilege. Since then, before a storm, these bells ring up from the deep; and to this day the fishermen of St. Ouen's Bay always go to the edge of the water before embarking, to listen if they can hear "the bells upon the wind;" and, if those warning notes are heard, nothing will induce them to leave the shore; if all is quiet they fearlessly set sail. As a gentleman, who has versified the legend, says:

GOOD FRIDAY

is the occasion of great superstition. It is believed that anything planted on that day will prosper, and that if the seeds of the stock are sown in the evening, as the sun goes down, the flowers will be sure to come double. Hot-cross buns, or other bread made on a Good Friday, are supposed never to grow mouldy, and if kept for twelve months and then grated into some liquor, will prove a great soother of the stomach-ache; acorns dried and grated will have the same effect. The origin of the buns was the consecrated loaf made from the dough, whence the host itself was formerly taken and given by the priests to the people; they were marked with the cross, as our Good Friday buns are. The superstitious frequently preserved Good Friday buns from year to year, from the belief of their efficacy in the cure of diseases. And Poor Robin, in his Almanack for 1753, says:

The poorer people of Offenham will by no means allow any washing to be about on a Good Friday, which would be considered the forerunner of much ill-luck. At Cutnal Green it is thought that if you do not empty your lie tub on Good Friday, you will have bad luck in the ensuing year.

BEES.

In many places in this county, when the master of a family dies, the old nurse goes to the hive of bees, knocks, and says:

A bit of black crape is then pinned to the hive. It is firmly believed that but for this precaution the bees would all desert the place. A correspondent at Pershore says: "While conversing with a farmer's wife in this neighbourhood, I was gravely informed that it was certainly the truth, unless the bees were 'told' when anybody died in the house, something would happen either to bees or honey before long. She considered it a great want of foresight not to go from the house in which the 'departed one' had breathed his or her last to the hive without delay, and 'tell the bees' what had happened." In some places the custom is to take the key of the front door to the hive and tap it gently, saying, "Bees, bees, your master (or mistress) is dead." The hives also are usually covered with crape. If a swarm of bees return to their old hive, it is believed that a death will happen in the family within the year. This superstition probably prevails nearly all over the kingdom, and is believed to be of great antiquity. In Oxfordshire, it is said that if a man and his wife quarrel, the bees will leave them. In Devonshire, the custom is (or was in the year 1790) to turn round the bee-hives that belonged to the deceased at the moment the corpse was being carried out of the house; and on one occasion, at the funeral of a rich old farmer at Collumpton, as a numerous procession was on the point of starting, a person called out, "Turn the bees;" upon which a servant, who had no knowledge of the custom, instead of turning the hives about, lifted them up, and then laid them down on their sides. The bees, thus invaded, quickly fastened on the attendants, and in a few moments the corpse was left quite alone, hats and wigs were lost in the confusion, and a long time elapsed before the sufferers returned to their duty.

CHARMS

are still believed in to a great extent among the poor. In the neighbourhood of Hartlebury they break the legs of a toad, sew it up in a bag alive, and tie it round the neck of the patient. There were lately some female charmers at Fladbury. The peasantry around Tenbury and Shrawley have also great faith in charms, and the toad remedy is applied at the former place, the life or death of the patient being supposed to be shadowed forth by the survival or death of the poor animal. At Mathon, old women are intrusted with the cure of burns by charming, which they do by repeating a certain number of times the old doggrel rhyme, beginning—

In the neighbourhood of Stoke Prior a charm was some time ago used by a labouring man for the removal of the thrush (or "throcks" as it is locally termed) in children: he would put his finger into his mouth, and then into that of the child, rubbing the gums, while he mumbled out something terminating with "Father, Son, and Holy Ghost," then put down the child without speaking another word, and leave the house without eating or drinking. Charming for the toothache is still customary at Cutnall Green. The charm is written on paper, and sealed up, which the afflicted person carries about with him, and it is believed to be a sure cure. A "poke" or wart on the eye is "charmed away" by rubbing it with a wedding ring. Drinking out of a sacramental cup is considered a cure for the hooping cough. A pillow, filled with hops and laid under the patient's bed, is an undoubted cure for rheumatism. This charm was prescribed to George III by a physician at Reading, recommended by Lord Sidmouth, and administered to the royal patient accordingly.

The following lines are very generally taught to children in the rural districts, to say at night with their prayers:

TOUCHING FOR THE KING'S EVIL

was in old times an established institution. In 1666 the Chamberlain of the Worcester Corporation spent £10. 14s. in an entertainment to Mr. Gratrix, "an Irishman famous for helping and curing many lame and diseased people only by stroking of their maladies with his hand, and therefore sent for to this and many other places." Valentine Gratrix—surnamed the Stroker—was a great proficient and master of the art; and by a letter of his (still in existence) to the Archbishop of Dublin, it appears that he believed himself to be inspired by God for the purpose of curing this disease. He was entertained with great hospitality at many of our citizens' houses, and was thus fortunate in having a long start of the mesmerizers of the present day. The parish register of Chaddesley Corbett contains a "Mem. That Nov. 24, 1685, a certificate was granted to Gervase Burford, to be touched for the King's evil;" and two years later King James II was at Worcester, and attended at the Cathedral for the purpose of touching persons affected with the evil. From the Worcestershire county records it appears that in 1688 one Susannah Rose petitioned the Court of Quarter Sessions on behalf of her brother, George Gilbert, a blacksmith, of Stourbridge, upon whose toes a hammer having fallen, had disabled him from work, and "after much suffering he was persuaded it was gone to the King's evil, went to London, and was touched by his Majesty, but afterwards was forced to go to a surgeon, at Rushock, under cure for above half-a-year, when he left him off, and would not let him be entertained in the parish any longer," and the poor petitioner being unable to provide for him, prays for his settlement at Bellbroughton, where he was born and apprenticed. In the parish records of St. Nicholas, it is stated that in 1711, one Walker, a pauper, was sent to London to be touched; and I believe that Dr. Johnson was touched by Queen Ann, as late as 1712. In the reign of Charles II a royal proclamation was issued stating the time when that monarch would touch persons afflicted with this disease. A broadside containing a printed copy of this proclamation still exists at Painswick, in Gloucestershire, in the possession of Mr. Gyde, the surgeon there. William of Malmesbury, who flourished in the twelfth century, alleges the origin of the Royal touch to have been on this wise: a young married woman, having some enormous glandular swellings on her neck, was admonished in a dream to have it washed by the King (Edward the Confessor). His Majesty readily fulfilled this labour of love by rubbing her neck with his fingers dipped in water, and before a week had expired, the tumour subsided and a fair new skin covered the affected part, so that a perfect cure was the result—and not only that, but the woman, who had been previously childless, in less than another year became the mother of twins, which (the sage chronicler gravely remarks) "greatly increased the admiration of Edward's holiness. Those who knew him more intimately affirm that he often cured this complaint in Normandy; whence appears how false is their notion who in our times assert that the cure of this disease does not proceed from personal sanctity but from hereditary virtue in the Royal line."

WITCHCRAFT.

A lingering belief in witchcraft still remains among the most ignorant of our population, both rural and urban. Some particulars relative to the existence of this superstition in this county in the seventeenth century will be found among the county records in the early part of this volume. The law against witchcraft, passed in the time of James I, being very stringent, the driving out evil spirits, allaying of ghosts, and abjuring witches, became, for nearly a century, a profitable employment. Witch-finders existed as public officers; and beside the public executions which disgraced every assizes, multitudes of accused were destroyed by popular resentment, while others were drowned by the test applied, for if, on being thrown into the water, they did not sink, they were presumed witches, and either killed on the spot or reserved for burning at the assizes. In the year 1649, four persons were tried at Worcester for this supposed offence, and all were executed, two of them confessing their crime, viz.: Margaret Landis and Susan Cook; Rebecca West and Rose Holybred died obstinate. The custom at Worcester was to duck the accused in the Severn (Cooken Street, or "Cucken Street," as it is spelt in some old maps, being no doubt the line of route on these occasions).

Baxter, in his "World of Spirits," speaks of those men who told of things stolen and lost, and who showed the face of a thief in a glass, and caused the goods to be brought back, who were commonly called "white witches." "When I lived (he says) at Dudley, Hodges, at Sedgley, two miles off, was long and commonly accounted such a one; and when I lived at Kederminster, one of my neighbours affirmed that, having his yarn stolen, he went to Hodges, ten miles off, and he told him that at such an hour he should have it brought home again and put in at the window, and so it was; and as I remember he showed him the person's face in a glass. Yet I do not think that Hodges made any known contract with the devil, but thought it an effect of art."

About the year 1672 a prebend of Worcester (Joseph Glanville) seriously wrote a book, entitled, "Some considerations touching the being of Witches and Witchcraft," which engaged him in a controversy that lasted as long as his life. The statute 9th George II, chap. 5 (1736), at length repealed the disgraceful Witch Act, and stopped all legal prosecutions against persons charged with conjuration, sorcery, &c.; yet what has once taken so firm a hold of the popular mind is not to be so easily eradicated; and Dr. Nash, who wrote his "Worcestershire" towards the close of the last century, asserts that not many years previously a poor woman, who happened to be very ugly, was almost drowned in the neighbourhood of Worcester, upon a supposition of witchcraft; and had not Mr. Lygon, a gentleman of singular humanity and influence, interfered in her behalf, she would certainly have been drowned, upon a presumption that a witch could not sink. Later still, Mr. Allies informs us, that when the late Mr. Spooner kept a pack of hounds, whenever they passed through a certain field in Leigh Sinton, the hounds would invariably run after something which nobody could see, until they came to the cottage of an old woman named Cofield, when they would turn back again, the old witch having then got safely into her own "sanctum." The exploits of Mrs. Swan, of Kidderminster, who pretended to discover stolen property for everybody else except what she herself had lost, and who died in an awfully tempestuous night in November, 1850, when her cats so mysteriously disappeared, cannot yet be forgotten; nor the recent existence of "the wise man of Dudley," and many others of the same class, though not quite so celebrated, who are now living. Some of the Mathon people still believe that witchcraft makes their pigs waste away; and, when convinced of the fact, they kill the animal, and burn a part of the flesh, to prevent any ill effects to those who eat the remainder. Mr. Lees informs us of a pear tree in Wyre Forest, the fruit of which is even now hung up in the houses of the peasantry as a protection against witchcraft. The witch elm (Ulmus montana) was the one commonly employed for the purpose, as most easily attainable. That was good; the mountain ash or witten tree was better; and the sorb tree or true service (Pyrus domestica) was the strongest of all. Nine withes of witch hazel, banded together, is used as a rustic appliance to guard against witching influence. There is a place called "Witchery Hole," in Little Shelsley, concerning which, whenever a violent wind blows from the north, the people say, "The wind comes from Witchery Hole," insinuating that certain "broomstick hags" had something to do with raising the wind. For a baker to cross the flour before he commences baking is regarded as a security against the witch entering the bread. The horse-shoe is still seen over doors, in many places, and fastened to bedsteads to keep witches away. At the Police Office, at Stourbridge, only a few months ago, a woman named Wassall charged a Mrs. Cartwright, a poor woman afflicted with paralysis, with threatening to do her some bodily injury. The defendant alleged that the affliction under which she was suffering was caused by the complainant, who had bewitched her; and that when she begged her to remove the spell, complainant told her it had been upon her for twelve weeks, and it should continue six weeks longer. Finding entreaties vain, the defendant made use of some idle threat, which led to the summons. A "charm" was shown to the Court, which the deluded creature had worn by the advice of a "wise" man to remove the spell; it was a small black silk bag, containing pieces cut out from the Prayer Book and Bible, and some hair, evidently from a cat's back. The Bench endeavoured to assuage the fears of the poor woman, and told her not to impute her affliction to the evil machinations of any one, at the same time severely lecturing the complainant for practising such deceit upon an ignorant and afflicted fellow-creature.

There were reputed witches at Malvern in the last generation; and at Colwall the common people are said even now to dislike peewits (lapwings) which visit that place, believing that their cry is "bewitch'd, bewitch'd;" and should any person capture one of these birds he is strongly recommended not to keep it for fear of misfortune or accident. Peewits are believed to be departed spirits who still haunt the earth in consequence of something that troubles them.

GHOSTS.

At Beoley, about half a century ago, the ghost of a reputed murderer managed to keep undisputed possession of a certain house, until a conclave of the clergy chained him to the bed of the Red Sea for fifty years. When that term was expired the ghost reappeared (two or three years ago), and more than ever frightened the natives of the said house—slamming the doors, and racing through the ceilings. The inmates, however, took heart, and chased him, by stamping on the floor from one room to another, under the impression that, could they once drive him to a trap-door opening into the cheese-room (for which, if the ghost happened to be a rat, he had a very natural penchant), he would disappear for a season. The beadle of the parish, who also combined with that office the scarcely less important one of pig-sticker, declared to the writer that he dared not go by the house now in the morning till the sun was up. (It was an ancient superstition that evil spirits flew away at cock-crowing.)

The Droitwich Canal, in passing through Salwarpe, is said to have cut off a slice of a large old half-timbered structure supposed to have been formerly a mansion-house; and in revenge for this act of mutilation, the ghost of a former occupier revisits his old haunts, affrights the domestics, and may be seen on dark nights, with deprecatory aspect, glide down the embankment, and suicidally commit himself to the waters below.

The Little Shelsley people will have it that the Court-house in that parish is haunted, and that a Lady Lightfoot, who was said to have been imprisoned and murdered in the house, comes at night and drives a carriage and four fiery horses round some old rooms that are unoccupied, and that her ladyship's screams are sometimes heard over the whole Court. She has likewise been seen to drive her team into the moat, when the whole disappeared, the water smoking like a furnace.

Many of the ancient manor-houses of Worcestershire have similar superstitions. At Huddington, there is an avenue of trees, called "Lady Winter's Walk," where the lady of Thomas Winter, who was obliged to conceal himself on account of the share he had in the Gunpowder Plot, was in the habit of awaiting her husband's furtive visits; and here the headless spectre of her ladyship is still seen occasionally pacing up and down beneath the sombre shade of those aged trees. A headless female also appears at Crowle brook, by which it would seem that the poor heart-broken lady sometimes extended her visits.

At Leigh, a spectre, known as "Old Coles," formerly appeared, and at dead of night, with vis insana, would drive a coach and four down a part of the road, dash over the great barn at Leigh Court, and then cool the fiery nostrils of his steeds in the waters of the Teme. Mr. Jabez Allies also records that this perturbed spirit was at length laid in a neighbouring pool by twelve parsons, at twelve at night, by the light of an inch of candle; and as he was not to rise again until the candle was quite burnt out, it was therefore thrown into the pool, and, to make all sure, the pool was filled up—

"And peaceful ever after slept Old Coles's shade."

This Coles (as is recorded by Mr. Lees) was on intimate terms with a neighbour at Cradley, and being distressed for want of money, heard that his friend was going to Worcester to receive a large sum, and thereupon waylaid him on his return by night. Coles seized the bridle and threatened his friend's life; but the Cradley yeoman drew his sword and made a furious cut, which freed him at once from the robber, and he rapidly rode home; on his arrival there he found a bloody hand firmly grasping his horse's bridle, and one of the fingers bore the signet ring of his friend Coles. Next day he went to Leigh, and found Coles in bed; he acknowledged his crime, and begged for mercy, which was granted in consideration of his awful punishment.

At Astwood Court, once the seat of the Culpepers, was an old oak table, removed from the side of the wainscot in 1816, respecting which tradition declares that it bore the impress of the fingers of a lady ghost, who, probably tired of appearing to no purpose, at last struck the table in a rage, and vanished for ever; but the ghost was also in the habit of walking from the house to "the cloven pear-tree."

At Holt Castle, it was not long ago believed by the servants that a mysterious lady in black occasionally walked at dead of night in a certain passage near to the attics; and likewise that the cellar had been occupied by an ill-favoured bird like a raven, which would sometimes pounce upon any person who ventured to approach a cask for drink, and having extinguished the candle with a horrid flapping of wings, would leave its victim prostrated with fright. A similar legend prevails at Leigh Court. A solution has been given to this legend, however, which would imply a little cunning selfishness on the part of the domestics who had the care of the ale and cider depÔt.

LOVE SPELLS.

A correspondent at Cutnall Green says that it is believed there that for a single female to sleep in a new pair of shoes and stockings is a sure means of her dreaming of her future husband; and for a female to sleep with a breast bone, knife and fork, and a plate, carefully put under her bolster, also is sure to make her dream of her lover.

Another informant—a lady, who forgot to state the place of her residence—sends me the following: If a maiden wishes to know her future husband, let her on Midsummer Eve, at midnight, descend backwards from her bed-room to the garden, and, still walking backwards around it, and scattering hemp seed with her right hand as she goes, repeat these lines:

when he will suddenly appear with a scythe in his hand, which, unless the poor damsel be particular in keeping her right hand stretched out, may prove a dangerous weapon. Also on Midsummer Eve, take two flowers called among the country people "Midsummer Men," and planting them in the thatch, repeat your own and sweetheart's name. Should they grow, a wedding is certain, but if not, the lovers will be parted. On All Saints, commonly called "All Hallows," let a young woman take a ball of new worsted, and holding the end in her fingers, throw the ball through the window (at midnight) saying, "Who holds?" the man who is to be her husband will pick up the worsted, mention his name, and disappear. On Christmas Eve, let three, five, or seven young girls take each a sprig of rosemary and place it in a bowl of water, putting the vessel in the centre of the room. Stretch a string across directly before it, hanging thereon a white garment of each person. They must then sit speechless until the witching hour of midnight, when each of their lovers will appear and take a piece of rosemary out of the basin, and mention his own name and his sweetheart's. When the first new moon in the year appears, she may go to the garden, and looking steadily at it, say—

mentioning the names of three young men, and curtseying to each one. When next she sees them, let her notice if they have their backs or faces towards her. The one who has his face towards her will be her husband. Hang a peapod containing nine peas over the doorway; the young man who passes under it first (not one of the family) will be the husband of the young woman who hangs it there. When a young girl receives a letter from her lover, let her pin it in nine folds and place it next her heart, on retiring to rest. If she dream of gold or jewellery, he is sincere in his professions; if not, let her beware. Take a ring and hang it upon one of your own hairs, hold it steadily over a wine glass half full of water, and wish to know how many years it will be before you are married. As many times as it hits against the side of the glass, so many years it will be before you are joined in holy wedlock.

If a girl pluck a rose on Midsummer Eve, and wear it on the succeeding Christmas Day, whatever single man takes it from her must marry her.

To ascertain whether a pretended lover is sincere, take an apple-pip, and naming one of your followers, put the pip on the fire: if it make a noise in bursting it is a proof of love; if there is no crack, it is a sign that he has no regard for you:

Another charm consists in sticking pips upon the cheek, and naming several lovers, the truest being shown by that which remains longest.

Fingered leaves are supposed to have a magical character. If the terminating leaflets of the common ash are even (they being usually odd) they bring "luck or a lover."

The herb Paris, a common plant in thick woods, has very frequently its four leaves multiplied into five or six, and thus generally gets the name of true love. So the common Cinquefoil, called "Five-leaved grass," from having its leaves in five digitated divisions, are made six or seven by accessory leaflets, and the following rhyme is repeated in rural places:

A powerful love-spell is produced by what is called the "Speechless hawthorn." In May or June a flowering branch of the hawthorn must be silently gathered in the evening, and the maiden gathering it must refrain from speech that night, as a single word spoken would break the spell. Hastening to bed as soon as possible, speechless she must place the hawthorn branch under her pillow, and then, in the visions of the night, the man whom fate has destined for her future husband will certainly present himself.

The common brake fern (Pteris aquilina), cut in two obliquely, shows the initial letters of a sweetheart's name.

Get a maiden egg, carefully break it, and fill half the shell with salt; then eat the salt as you go to bed, walking up stairs backwards, and backing into bed also; be sure and keep silence and you will dream of your lover: if he should offer a glass of water he will be a poor man; if a glass of wine, a gentleman.

On some Friday night go to bed, and put your shoes under your pillow, crossing the left shoe over the right, and say—

Silence must be preserved till the morning, when the lover is expected to appear in a dream.

Another love spell is "the dumb cake." This cake must be made on New Year's Eve, and eaten in silence by a number of young girls; one of them must place a clean chemise, turned inside out, on a chair before the fire; this must be sprinkled with water by a branch of rosemary; all must then sit round the fire in silence till twelve o'clock. If any among the party wish to be married during the ensuing year, the form of her husband will approach the fire and turn the chemise.