persons who denied it were considered guilty of high treason. It may well be supposed that those who had any doubts kept them to themselves, when the penalty for expressing them was to be drawn and quartered.
We have placed this belief in the power of monarchs to cure a particular disease under the head of exploded superstitions; but it must be confessed that the recorded facts in the case are hard to get over. “Imagination,” says Lord Bacon, “is next akin to a miracle—a working faith.” The facts, so far as they must be admitted, are usually explained upon this hypothesis; but we submit that a somewhat different one is needed to account for the cure of infants at the breast, who were presented in full proportion of numbers, and were cured as often as adults. Perhaps some of our scientific men will take the trouble to offer us another and more universal explanation.
It must not be supposed, however, that our gracious sovereigns limited their healing powers to the cure of scrofula, They did not hesitate to grapple with cramps and epilepsy. The ancient chronicles inform us that they used “to halowe, every yere, crampe rynges.” They were worn on the finger, and held to be of sovereign efficacy. Many were hallowed by Henry VIII, and of these a number were sent to Rome, as very choice gifts, by Anne Boleyn, when she hoped to gain certain favours by such rare presents. A ring of this kind was for a long time preserved with great veneration in Westminster Abbey, and was touched by a great many persons for the cure of cramp or epilepsy. Of the efficacy of these applications we can find no authentic record.
That a “child’s caul” will protect its possessor from drowning is a superstition not wholly exploded, since many shipmasters and sailors are furnished with these curious articles, and they are sometimes advertised for sale in the newspapers. But these are only the vestiges of ancient beliefs. The “caul,” it should be noted, is supposed to have a double efficacy, or is as good a preservation against conflagrations as shipwrecks. What are a few pounds for a talisman good against two out of the four elements?
The belief in amulets, or charms, which had the power to preserve the wearer from danger, was once so universal, that persons going to fight a duel were obliged to make oath that they had no such supernatural protection. There was formerly, and perhaps is still, a considerable traffic in Africa in amulets warranted to preserve their possessors against thunderbolts and diseases, to procure many wives, avert shipwreck and slavery, and secure victory over enemies.
The precious stones were once believed to have great virtues, either when worn on the person, or taken as a powder internally. Even so famous a medical writer as Avicenna tells us that lapis armenius, and lapis lazuli, taken internally, are sovereign remedies for melancholy. The garnet, either hung about the neck, or taken inwardly, “much assists sorrow, and recreates the heart.” The chrysolite induces wisdom, and cures folly. It may have been observed even in our day that pearls and diamonds, properly administered, have cured some bad complaints, when other means have failed.
The old writers, either out of their own imaginations, or in accordance with the popular belief, give us curious accounts of precious stones, for some of which we should look in vain at the shops of our London jewellers.
Of the heliotropius they say,—“It stauncheth blood, driveth away poisons, and preserveth health; yea, and some write that it provoketh rain, and darkeneth the sunne, suffering not him that beareth it to be abused.” “A topaze healeth the lunaticke person of his passion of lunacie.” “Cornelian mitigateth the heat of the mind, and qualifieth malice. It stauncheth bloody fluxes.” “A sapphire preserveth the members, and maketh them livelie, and helpeth agues and gowts, and suffereth not the bearer to be afraid. It hath virtue against venome, and staieth bleeding at the nose, being often put thereto.”
These fancies are just now dying out. If stones or metals are now given as medicines, it is because they possess real, rather than mystical properties. Silver, mercury, antimony, and arsenic, are dealt out in prescriptions, and not worn as charms. The foot with which an elk scratches his ear, on being knocked down, would not now be considered a very certain cure for epilepsy. A ring made of silver collected at the communion service, or of three nails or screws of a coffin-lid, or of five sixpences collected of five bachelors, carried by a bachelor to a smith who is a bachelor, would not now, we may hope, in any part of England, be very confidently relied on to cure fits and convulsions. Grose, an author once of no mean repute, assures us that a halter wherewith one has been hanged, if tied about the head, will cure the headache; but he says, also, that moss, grown on a human skull, powdered and taken as snuff, is no less efficacious. In our enlightened age, though a few persons may be found who believe that the hangman’s rope, or his victim’s cold hand, will cure diseases, there are many more who have no faith in the halter, even for the cure of moral and social evils.
