Thin crescentic plates, with the extremities terminating in flat circular disks, are the ornaments most frequently discovered. In form they are identical with the half-moonshaped ornaments in use among the Greeks and Romans, and with the nimbi on carvings of the Byzantine school; and they differ but little from the ring which now is conventionally placed around the head of a saint. Thus this glory can be traced back to pagandom. The crescentic plate appears to have been primarily the badge of some distinguished person, a chief or king; then it became the emblem of one considered to be a very holy person, for in Ireland, in the early days of Christianity, the saints were derived principally from the aristocracy.
In the collection of the Royal Irish Academy is a golden tiara or diadem, said to have been found in County Clare. This relic, which measures about a foot in height and the same in breadth, is thought to have been a head-dress of some pagan or early Christian chieftain.
In the earlier years of the church these crescent symbols were avoided as savoring of heathenism; but without any thought of its significance, it became customary in the Middle Ages to place a circular brass plate upon the heads of statues as a protection from snow or rain. Hence arose the practice of similarly adorning images and paintings in churches.[217]
In later times these crescent-shaped pieces of metal were sometimes nailed up at the entrance of churches, and so came to be regarded as protective emblems.[218] The horse-shoe was an easily available substitute for the halo or glory, and so was often placed upon the doors of churches, especially in the southwest of England, as it was generally believed in olden times that evil spirits could enter even consecrated edifices. Aubrey, in his “Miscellanies,” mentions having seen under the porch of Staninfield Church, in Suffolk, an inscription with the device of a horse-shoe, intended to exclude witches, and he naïvely remarks that one would imagine holy water amply sufficient for the purpose.
On the south door of the parish church of Ashby-Foville, in Leicestershire, were formerly two ancient horse-shoes of great size, one of them measuring 16 by 11½ inches, or more than twice as large as an average modern shoe.
As it does not seem likely that such shoes were made to fit horses’ feet, in the absence of traditional information regarding them, it appears probable that they were intended solely to bar the ingress of witches.[219]
In St. Martin’s Church, Canterbury, the oldest in England, the sacristan shows visitors the site of an early English door on the south side, and a Norman doorway in the middle of the northern wall, both long since blocked up. Infants to be baptized were formerly brought into the church by the south entrance, and after the ceremony the north door was thrown open to permit the egress of evil spirits expelled by baptism. For in early times demons were believed to come from the north, where the habitations of the Norse gods were also thought to be. The pagans, when worshiping their deities, looked towards the north; but Christians engaged in prayer turned their faces eastward and lifted up their hands; they regarded the north as “the unblessed heathen quarter.” The unexplored Arctic regions, where night[220] reigned much of the time, were thought to belong especially to the Devil, or spirit of darkness;[221] and the same idea is conveyed in several passages of Holy Scripture, as, for example, in Jeremiah iv. 6: “I will bring evil from the north, and a great destruction.”
In the Middle Ages the rose-windows in the north and south transepts of Lincoln Minster were called the two eyes of the cathedral, the former being known as the Dean’s Eye, ever on the watch against the attacks of Lucifer, who had his abode “in the sides of the north” (Isaiah xiv. 13); while the window in the south transept was called the Bishop’s Eye, “courting the influence of the Holy Spirit, of which the south wind was a type.” Apropos of evil spirits entering consecrated places, there is a quaint legend about a little stone figure yclept the Lincoln Imp, which is to be seen perched upon a corbel of a column on the north side of the Angel Choir of the same cathedral. According to one version of the legend, when Bishop Remigius came to Lincoln, in the year after the Norman Conquest, the Devil was sorely tried; for until that time he had had undisturbed control of affairs in the town and neighborhood. In vain the Evil One sought to hinder the completion of the church, and finally he waylaid the bishop outside the building and attempted to kill him. But the good bishop at this critical time called upon the Blessed Virgin Mary for assistance, and she sent a tempest of wind which so buffeted and distracted the Devil that he sought refuge inside the church, not daring to venture out because of the fierce wind, which prevails a good part of the time even nowadays, and which is still awaiting the Devil’s reappearance!
In southern Germany, Bavaria, and Tyrol, the horse-shoe symbol is to be seen on church-doors, as an emblem of St. Leonard, the guardian and protector of horses and travelers; and it is usually associated with some romantic legend, having oftentimes a historic basis. Traditions relating to horse-shoes on church-doors are, indeed, plentiful in the popular literature of Germany, and a few examples are given later. St. Leonard’s Day, November 6, had its special observances. The peasants were wont to bring their horses to some church dedicated to that worthy, and ride them thrice around the sacred building, a procedure which was believed to be highly auspicious.[223] It was, moreover, customary for noblemen, before starting on an equestrian journey, to fasten a horse-shoe on the church-door as a votive offering to St. Leonard.[224]
Especial honor is accorded to this saint on the day of his festival, at Fischhausen, a seaport village in northeastern Prussia. On that occasion the parish church is surrounded by farm wagons and other vehicles drawn by gayly decorated horses, for here the country people have a grand rendezvous; young women in holiday attire drive hither the cows, who have been brought from their summer quarters in the upland pastures, that they, too, may participate in the festivities. A religious service, largely attended by the peasants, is first held in the church, and then follow the outdoor exercises, of which a chief feature consists in driving the horses three times around the building at a rapid pace.[225]
During the prevalence of a severe epizoötic in Würtemberg many years ago, the people removed the shoes from their horses’ feet, and hung them on the walls of churches as propitiatory offerings. Various other iron implements, such as chain traces, were thus similarly displayed.
An ancient St. Leonard’s Chapel, in the town of Laupheim, is encircled by an iron chain, which is said to have been forged from horse-shoes thus piously contributed.[226] The largest church dedicated to this saint is at Tölz, in upper Bavaria, and its altar is likewise surrounded by an iron chain.
Pictures of St. Leonard are sometimes placed upon stable-doors to bring luck; he is usually represented as holding a pastoral staff, while on one side is seen a colt or filly, on the other a sick ox, and at his feet is a ewe lamb.
In northern Germany, St. George, as a successor of Wodan, is one of the special guardians and protectors of horses. On the festal day of this saint, April 23, the peasants gather in large numbers around some church dedicated to him, and their horses and vehicles, numbering sometimes many hundreds, are drawn up in a circle around the sanctuary. After the parish priest has delivered a sermon in the church, he comes to the door and blesses each horse separately as the animal is led past, meanwhile sprinkling him with holy water. Then the young men mount their best horses and ride them three times at full speed around the church, shouting lustily meanwhile.
Jähns remarks that this ceremony is doubtless a relic of some pagan rite, and that in many places a venerable tree, instead of a Christian church, is chosen as the place of rendezvous on St. George’s Day. During the ride around the tree, an aged peasant standing in its shade throws upon each horse, as it passes, a little moist earth taken from about the roots of the sacred tree, and this insures the animal against sickness until the following spring, especially if some of the earth be placed in a bag and hung up in the stable.
As the hammer was Thor’s emblem, so the horse-shoe has been thought to possess a certain mystic significance as a symbol of the heathen god Wodan; and it has been assumed that the ancient churches, upon whose doors horse-shoes are still to be seen, were built upon the sites of pagan temples dedicated to that deity. It has been argued, moreover, that the modern use of a horse-shoe as a talisman, and the placing of horses’ heads on peasants’ houses, are relics of heathendom, and have a mysterious affinity with the hoof-print legends of Teutonic mythology. Such a theory appears plausible enough in view of the fact that many of the superstitious customs and beliefs of modern times are known to have existed before the Christian era.
1. Within recent years two horse-shoes were to be seen on the door of the parish church of Haccombe in Derbyshire. A romantic legend associated with these horse-shoes is the theme of a ballad supposed to have been written by a master of Exeter Grammar School in the early part of the nineteenth century. The ballad graphically describes a race for a wager between a certain Earl of Totnes, mounted on a Derbyshire roan, and one Sir Arthur Champernowne, on a fleet Barbary courser. The race was won by the earl, who thereupon rode straight to the door of Haccombe Church,
2. In the traditionary lore of the Harz Mountains there is a weird tale of four horse-shoes, which for ages were to be seen on the door of a church in the suburbs of Klettenburg.
Once upon a time, so runs the story, a great drinking-match was held on a Sunday morning at Elrich. The prize was a golden chain, and many knights assembled from near and far. The carousal lasted for some hours, until Count Ernest of Klettenburg, the only one who could still keep on his feet, exultantly claimed the golden chain, which he hung about his neck. Then, mounting his horse, he rode homeward, and while nearing Klettenburg he heard the strains of even-song in a church dedicated to St. Nicholas. Urging on his steed, he rode madly through the open door straight to the altar. Then, so runs the legend, the horse’s four shoes fell off, and horse and rider sank down together out of sight. In memory of this wonderful event, the four horse-shoes were placed on the door of the church, and for many years were regarded with awe by the simple countryfolk.[228]
3. In the construction of the Church of St. Stephen, at Tangermünde, in Prussian Saxony, a brick edifice of the fourteenth century, the members of two guilds, those of the blacksmiths and shoemakers, were of especial assistance; and in remembrance of this, a horse-shoe and an iron shoe-sole were built into the outer wall of the church. The former indicates that up to its level the blacksmiths had built the walls, and the latter shows that all the work above the horse-shoe was done by the shoemakers; such, at least, is the popular explanation, which may well be received cum grano salis.
4. In the parish church of Schwarzenstein, in east Prussia, hang two horse-shoes as reminders of the following tradition: In the village of Eichmedien, one mile from Rastenburg, lived formerly as tavern-keeper a woman, who had earned an unenviable notoriety by her practice of charging double the proper fees for board and lodging. Late one night, when several of her guests accused her of being a cheat, she asseverated her honesty by holding up her hand, and saying in the form of an oath: “If my score is not correct, may the Devil now jump on my back.” The Evil One took the woman promptly at her word, transformed her into a mare, and rode her out of the village, laughing scornfully. At headlong speed he rode to a blacksmith’s shop in Schwarzenstein, and demanded that his mare be shod at once. The blacksmith, routed out of his sleep, excused himself, pleading the lateness of the hour and the fact that there was no fire in his forge. The Devil insisted, however, and promised liberal payment if the work were done quickly. The blacksmith yielded at length, but had not proceeded far in shaping the shoes when the mare began to speak. “My cousin, don’t you know me?” she said; “I am the tavern-keeper.” Upon this the blacksmith was so horrified that neither threats nor entreaties could prevail to make him proceed with the shoeing, and before he had finished the third shoe a cock crowed, and immediately the spell was broken and the woman reassumed her own form. And to point the moral of this legend, and as a warning to cheats, the two horse-shoes which the smith had completed were nailed up in the village church at Schwarzenstein.
5. According to an old tradition, the Lapp king, Olaf Skötkonung (995-1030), wishing to become a Christian, asked his royal contemporary, Ethelred II. of England, to send him a teacher. In response to this request Bishop Siegfried and three missionaries came to Sweden, and, landing on the southwestern coast, encamped the first night at Wexio, on Lake Sodre. Here the bishop saw in a vision a great company of angels, and thereupon determined to build a church at that place. The pagan inhabitants, however, were hostile to the undertaking, and seized the three missionaries, Winaman, Unaman, and Sunaman, whom they beheaded, and caused their heads to be thrown into the water.
One night soon after this sad event Siegfried was walking along the shore of the lake, sighing and praying, when he espied three luminous objects approaching on the water, borne onward by the waves, and soon he recognized them as the heads of his friends. And, behold, the first head said, “The dead shall be avenged.” And a voice from the second head exclaimed, “When?” Then replied the third head in solemn tones, “On their children and children’s children.” This prophecy was not, however, fulfilled to the letter, for through Siegfried’s intercession Olaf consented to spare the lives of the murderers, on condition that they should build a Christian church in Wexio; and this church, which still exists, has on its coat-of-arms, or seal, the representation of three severed heads, in memory of the occurrence and its legend. In this church hung formerly a shoe of Wodan’s famous steed Sleipnir, as a souvenir of the following tradition: When the church bells rang for the first time to summon the people to mass, Wodan came riding over the mountains, and, when nearing Wexio, Sleipnir, in a sudden fright, struck a rock with one of his feet, and the impress of the powerful blow remains in the rock to this day. But the shoe fell off and was placed in the church.[229]
6. Many years ago, so runs an old legend, a man obtained employment at a farm in Norway, where, unknown to him, the mistress was a witch. Although the man had plenty of good wholesome food, he did not thrive upon it, but became thinner each day. Being troubled at this, he sought the counsel of a wise man, from whom he learned the true character of his mistress. He learned, moreover, that she had been in the habit of transforming him into a horse at night while he slept, and riding him to Troms Church, a fact which fully accounted for his leanness.
The wise man also gave him a magical ointment, with which to rub his head at bedtime, and by virtue of which, on awaking the next morning, he found himself standing by Troms Church with a bridle in his hand, while behind him were a number of horses bound together by their tails. Soon he perceived his mistress coming out of the church, and when she was near enough to him he threw the bridle over her head, and instantly she was transformed into a handsome mare, which he mounted and rode homeward. On his way, however, he stopped at a farrier’s and had the animal shod with four new shoes, and on reaching home he told his master that he had bought a fine mare, that would be an excellent mate for one which he already had. His master bought the mare at a good price, but when he took the bridle off she disappeared, and in her place stood the mistress witch with new horse-shoes on her hands and feet. Thereupon the man related the wonderful tale of his experiences, and in consequence thereof the wife was turned out of doors, and never got rid of the horse-shoes.[230]
7. Once upon a time a gentleman of rank was driving with four horses along the highway which runs between the towns of Tübingen and Hirschau, in Würtemberg, and when opposite a roadside chapel he scoffed at a picture of the Madonna which adorned it. Immediately his horses came to a standstill, nor could he make them proceed, in spite of vigorous urging. At length, in this dilemma, a priest was called, who imposed as a penance the removal of a shoe from the right fore-foot of each horse, and after this had been done the gentleman was enabled to continue his journey. And in commemoration of this miracle one of the horse-shoes was nailed upon the chapel-door, where it was still to be seen in recent years.[231]
8. One Sunday morning a swarthy rider on a black horse rode at full speed through the village of Nabburg, in Bavaria, directly to the blacksmith’s shop, to have his horse shod. “Will you not rest on a Sunday?” demanded the smith. “My steed and I journey to and fro, and care nothing for the Christian Sunday,” replied the horseman; “therefore shoe my horse in the Devil’s name, and I counsel thee speak no pious word meanwhile, for no devout person has yet obtained the mastery over this spirited animal.” With these words he sprang to the ground and stroked his horse’s flowing mane. The smith, though ill at ease, began the work, and the horse was as quiet as if under a spell, much to the astonishment of his master, who could scarce believe his eyes. Three shoes were quickly set, and the smith called to his assistant, “Now, then, in God’s name, hand me the last shoe!” Instantly the fiery steed reared and struck out wildly, casting a shoe with such force against the wall that it remains to this day embedded there. But the horse and his rider were seen no more.[232]
9. In a wall on an estate called Ludwigstein, in Schleswig-Holstein, is to be seen a large stone bearing the imprint of a horse-shoe, wherewith is associated the following tale: One morning many years ago a horseman was riding along the road when the church prayer-bell rang, whereupon he swore an oath and said, “May the Devil take me if I am not again on this very spot this evening when the bell again sounds.” And indeed he kept his word, but at the stroke of the evening bell his horse slipped upon the stone and broke a leg, and the mark of a shoe is still to be seen there.
10. The Horse-Shoe imprint in the cemetery of the Church of Our Lady at Munster. During the building of this beautiful Gothic church in the fourteenth century, the Devil observed its shapely proportions with increasing displeasure, and bethought himself of various schemes to hinder the work’s progress. Finally he decided on trying to bewitch the architect’s senses. Accordingly he braided his hair, arrayed himself in gay female attire, bedecked with costly jewels, and appeared before the architect, whom he sought to ensnare with soft words and gifts. But the latter was not thus to be deceived. Leaning upon his measuring-rod, he listened unmoved to the beguiling conversation of the pretended belle, and rejected with scorn the gold and precious stones which she brought him. Thereupon the Devil became enraged, stamped upon the ground with vehemence, and disappeared, leaving behind him an evil smell; and the mark of one of the iron horse-shoes, wherewith he was shod, was deeply imprinted on a stone in the cemetery, and, according to popular report, is still to be found there.
The impressions on stone of figures of horse-shoes, of which there are numerous examples in northern Europe, are regarded by some archæologists as sacred symbols of the pagans or relics of the cult of Wodan, and as showing the sites of ancient altars and burial places; while others maintain that these figures were originally intended as boundary marks. Numerous traditions associate them with battles fought in these localities, and in the popular fancy they are imagined to indicate the favorite haunts of witches, the meeting-places where they held their revels, the horse-shoe mark being an imprint of the Devil’s foot. These weird rendezvous were usually on the tops of mountains or hills, and are still known as Witches’ Dance-Places in different parts of Europe, especially in Germany.
In the preceding pages an attempt has been made to furnish plausible reasons for the horse-shoe’s universal popularity both as an amulet and as a token of good luck. It is evident, however, that this superstition cannot be referred to any one particular starting-point. Just as the sources of a river may be manifold, consisting of numerous springs and tributaries, so, too, the belief in the horse-shoe’s magical virtues is of complex origin, and can be traced to diverse beginnings.
It may be profitable, therefore, briefly to enumerate the different theories which have been advanced:—
1. At the rite of the Passover, the blood sprinkled upon the lintel and door-posts formed the chief points of an arch. Hence the value of arch-shaped talismans.
2. The magical virtue of the horse-shoe against witches and fiends has been attributed to its bifurcated form, and to its resemblance to the lunar crescent. Charms of similar shape are known to have been in use among the ancient Chaldeans and Egyptians.
3. Iron and steel, metals having traditional power against evil-disposed fairies and goblins.
4. The serpentine shape. Serpent-worship was nearly universal among primitive peoples, and amuletic symbols of this form were in use in the days of ancient Rome.
5. The so-called horse-shoe arch as typifying a beneficent, protecting power.
6. The ancient conception of the earth as having the shape of a round boat turned upside down and corresponding to the Egyptian Put-sign.
7. The Horse. This animal was worshiped among the early Germanic tribes, and an English myth accredits to it luck-bringing qualities.
8. The Scandinavian superstition of the Demon-Mare.
9. The old astrological principle that Mars, the God of War and the War Horse, was hostile to Saturn, the liege-lord of witches.
10. The legend of Saint Dunstan and the Devil.
11. Phallic Symbolism.
12. The Aureole or Nimbus.
13. Supernatural faculties ascribed to blacksmiths.
14. The Egyptian hieroglyphic symbol 𓎆, signifying the mystical door of life.
15. Horses’ hoof-prints in mythology and tradition.
16. The horse-shoe a symbol of the heathen god Wodan.
Whatever may be the origin of the superstitious employment of the horse-shoe, its adoption as a token of good luck appears to be comparatively modern, its earliest use having been for the exclusion of witches, evil spirits, and all such uncanny beings.
Before leaving the subject an extract may be given from an article in the “London World,” August 23, 1753, against the repeal of the so-called Witch Act, wherein the writer offers the following satirical advice to whomever it might concern:—
To secure yourself against the enchantments of witches, especially if you are a person of fashion and have never been taught the Lord’s Prayer, the only method I know of is to nail a horse-shoe upon the threshold. This I can affirm to be of the greatest efficacy, insomuch that I have taken notice of many a little cottage in the country with a horse-shoe at its door where gaming, extravagance, Jacobitism, and all the catalogue of witchcrafts have been totally unknown.
The world moves and civilization progresses, but the old superstitions remain the same. The rusty horse-shoe found on the road is still prized as a lucky token, and will doubtless continue to be so prized; for human nature does not change, and superstition is a part of human nature.
Among the more popular divinities of the early Grecians was Tyche, the goddess of good luck, whose worship, according to Plutarch, complemented that of Destiny. She ruled over accidental events, and was the dispenser alike of blessings and misfortunes; but when too lavish in the distribution of her favors she was liable to incur the jealousy of Nemesis, the goddess of retribution.
Tyche, the Goddess of Fortune, is not mentioned in the works of the earliest Grecian poets, but Homer and Hesiod both allude to an ocean nymph of this name who was gathering flowers with Proserpina when the latter was carried off by Pluto.
The Theban lyric poet Pindar appears to have originated the worship of Tyche, whom he celebrated in verse, and invested with the title Pharopolis, or Protectress of Cities;[233] and in Greece, towards the close of the fifth century B. C., this goddess was generally believed to be the ruler of worldly affairs. While Zeus was, indeed, the most powerful of the gods, Tyche was regarded by some as having the character of Providence;[234] yet she was more generally thought to be identical with Chance or Luck. The famous Ionic philosopher Anaxagoras said that Fortune was a cause unknown to human reason; for some things come by Necessity, some by fatal Destiny, and others by deliberate Counsel.[235]
The worship of the Goddess of Chance, Fortuna, was introduced among the Romans from Greece during the reign of Servius Tullius, and soon became very popular. Indeed, at one period Fortuna was the chief Italian divinity, and the plebeians and slaves held an annual festival on the twenty-fourth day of June in honor of her who could bestow riches and liberty. Pliny wrote that the Chance or Fortune by means of which we acquire so much is a divine power; and Plutarch, in his work on the Fortune of the Romans, attempts to show that the great achievements of that people were to be attributed to good luck rather than to sagacity or prowess. As an example he cites their escape from invasion by the opportune death of Alexander the Great at Babylon, B. C. 323, at a time when he was preparing to overwhelm Italy with his armies.
The Roman biographer, Cornelius Nepos, in speaking of the Greek general, Emenes the Cardian (B. C. 361-317), said that, even if the favors shown him by Fortune had been commensurate with his great abilities, he would not for that reason have been more eminent; for great men should be measured by their qualities, and not by their good or bad fortune. The Dutch savant, Desiderius Erasmus, wrote that Diogenes was wont to rebuke with asperity those who blamed the goddess when their affairs did not prosper; and he also severely criticised the prevalent habit of craving at the hands of Mistress Fortune, not such things as were substantially good, but rather such as seemed to be so in the fancy of the petitioners. Philip of Macedon, on the receipt of the news of great victories won by his generals, thanked Fortune for her great goodness, modestly beseeching of her only some “light and shrewd turn again at another season.” And Erastus, commenting on Philip’s moderation and good sense in not being unduly elated by prosperity, quaintly remarked that this great king, having profound wisdom and experience, did not insolently leap and skip about on the receipt of joyful tidings, but rather mistrusted the pampering of Fortune, whom he knew to be a fickle jade.
Of all the pagan deities, Fortune was the most absolute and the most universally worshiped; for she kept all men at her feet, the prosperous through fear and the unfortunate through hope.[236] She was also an eccentric goddess, not only favoring the brave, according to the familiar maxim of Terence, but likewise being decidedly partial to fools, if we may believe another classical saying, Fortuna favet fatuis. And again, as an ancient poet wrote, Legem veretur nocens, Fortunam innocens. The satirist Juvenal said that, if men were discreet, Fortune had no power over them. When she entered Rome she folded her wings as a sign that she wished to remain there; and, as has been aptly remarked, she is there still, for the modern Roman is as firm a believer in luck, whether good or bad, as was the Roman citizen two thousand years ago.[237] Among the ancients, a lucky event, something opportune occurring unexpectedly, was ascribed to a sudden caprice or whim on the part of the goddess, while success in an undertaking was thought to be due to her favor when in a sober mood.[238]
“Why was Fortune made a goddess?” asked St. Augustine, since she is so blind that she runs to anybody without distinction, and often passes by her admirers to cling to those who despise her.[239] And Cicero remarked that Fortune was not only blind herself, but often deprived her votaries of sight.
Pliny, in discoursing about the religious beliefs current in his time, says:—
All over the world, in all places and at all times, Fortune is the only God whom every one invokes: she alone is spoken of; she alone is accused and is supposed to be guilty; she alone is in our thoughts, is praised and blamed, and is loaded with reproaches; wavering as she is, conceived by the generality of mankind to be blind, wandering, inconstant, uncertain, variable, and often favoring the unworthy. To her are referred all our losses and all our gains, and, in casting up the accounts of mortals, she alone balances the two pages of our sheet. We are so much in the power of chance, that chance itself is considered as a God.
The representations of Fortune, which are to be seen in ancient statues, bas-reliefs, medals, and coins, exhibit the many different attributes of her character. The earliest image of the goddess was probably at Smyrna, and was the work of the eminent sculptor Bupalus, who lived in the sixth century B. C. She was here shown as bearing on her head a hemisphere, and with the horn of Amalthæa in her left hand, thus typifying the distribution of all good things.[240]
Her lack of discernment has been symbolized by artists, who have portrayed her with a bandage before her eyes; with a rudder, as guiding worldly affairs; or with a wheel or ball, as types of instability. In a painting by Sulzer, Fortune is shown seated on a throne, which is borne aloft in the air by contrary winds. In her hand is a magic wand, and her countenance expresses inconstancy and fickleness, while in her train follow Riches, Poverty, Despotism, and Slavery. In the Villa d’Este, near the Italian town of Tivoli, is a painting by Zucchari showing Fortune astride of an ostrich, which has been supposed to be an allegorical intimation that the goddess has a preference for simpletons.[241] In her temple at Thebes, she held Wealth in her arms. Sometimes she was accompanied by a winged youth named Favor, to denote how speedily her favors may fly away from us;[242] or by a winged Cupid, which has been thought to signify that, in Love, Beauty has a less permanent influence than Fortune.[243]
Her numerous titles were usually complimentary, as Golden or Royal Fortune, but she was disrespectfully spoken of by Horace, Ovid, and other writers, by whom she was characterized as unjust, fickle, and delighting in mischief. One reproachful epithet applied to her was viscosa, tenacious or sticky, because men are caught in her toils like birds in quicklime.[244]
The Abbé Banier, in his “Mythology and Fables of the Ancients,” thus moralizes regarding Fortune, good and bad:—
As men have always highly valued earthly goods, ’tis no wonder that they adored Fortune. Fools! who thus instead of acknowledging an intelligent Providence that distributes riches and earthly goods, from views always wise, though dark and placed beyond the reach of human discovery, addressed their vows to an imaginary Being, that acted without design and from the impulse of unavoidable necessity; for ’tis beyond question that, in the Pagan system, Fortune was nothing else but Destiny. Accordingly she was confounded, as we shall see afterwards, with the Parcæ, who were themselves that fatal Necessity, which the poets have reasoned so much about.
We learn from the historian Suetonius that the early Roman emperors were wont to cherish small images of Fortune, which they venerated as special tutelary deities.
The goddess is said to have once appeared in a vision to the Emperor Galba, who reigned A. D. 68-69, and to have informed him that she was standing weary before his door, and that, if she were not quickly admitted, every one dear to him would become her prey. On awakening he found outside the entrance-hall of his palace a bronze figure of Fortune, which he concealed beneath his garments and carried to his summer residence at Tusculum. There he set apart a sanctuary for the image, and offered prayers to it each month, keeping, moreover, in its honor an all-night vigil every year. On one occasion Galba had intended to present his little guardian genius with a necklace of pearls and precious stones, but changed his mind and gave it to the Capitoline Venus. The following night Fortune, in angry mood, again appeared to the emperor in a dream, complaining that she had been cheated out of the intended gift, and threatening to take away the many benefits which she had bestowed upon him. Alarmed at this, Galba sent a messenger early in the morning to prepare a sacrificial offering, and he himself hastened to Tusculum, but found on the altar of the sanctuary nothing but warm ashes; and near by stood an old man clothed in black, holding in one hand a glass plate containing incense, and in the other an earthenware vessel full of sacrificial wine.[245]
Some verses containing uncomplimentary allusions to the character of Fortune were formerly to be seen on the wall of a chamber in Wressell Castle, Yorkshire, a building of the latter part of the fourteenth century, which was destroyed by fire in 1796:—
The Proverbis in the syde of the utter chamber above of the Hous in the Gardyng at Wresyll.
Among most civilized nations of the present day the Goddess Fortune is not openly worshiped, although the Japanese have their seven Gods of Luck, which are comparatively modern deities, brought together from various sources, including their own primitive Shinto religion, Buddhism, and the Taouism of China.[247]
The Lamas of Tibet perform each year a peculiar scapegoat rite called the Chase of the Demon of Ill-luck. One of their number, in fantastic garb and with grotesquely painted face, sits in the market-place for a week previously, and on the day of the ceremony this worthy, who is known as a ghost-king, wanders about shaking a black yak’s tail over the heads of the people, whereby their ill-luck is in some mystic way transferred to him.[248]
Temples in honor of the Goddess Tyche were built at Elis, Corinth, and in other Grecian cities; and in the second century A. D. the eminent philanthropist, Herodes Atticus, erected for her a temple in Athens, the ruins of which are believed still to exist.[249]
The western suburb of Syracuse, in Sicily, was called Τύχη, after a temple of Tyche which adorned it.
Among the Italians the worship of Fortune became so popular that her temples outnumbered all others. “We have built a thousand temples to Fortune and not one to Reason,” remarked Fronto, the worthy tutor of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius. Of all these pagan edifices in Rome, but a single one now remains, the temple of Fortuna Virilis, now the church of Santa Maria Egiziaca.[250] It is a small Ionic tetrastyle building on the left bank of the Tiber, a little north of the so-called Temple of the Sun. But the most famous Italian temple of Fortune was at Preneste, an ancient Latin town, now called Palestrina. Here oracles were consulted and fugitives found a place of refuge.
In Great Britain there still exist a number of altars in honor of Fortune, which date from the Roman occupation. One of these, on the line of the wall of Antoninus in Scotland, was erected by soldiers of the second and sixth legions. Another altar, dedicated to the same goddess, was found at the headquarters of the sixth legion at Eboracum, the modern city of York, and is still to be seen at the museum there.[251] The inscription on this altar was copied by the writer during a recent visit to York, and reads as follows:—
DEÆ FORTUNÆ
SOSIA
IUNCINA
Q. ANTONI
ISAURICI
LEG. AUG.
Our English word luck, according to some authorities, is of Scandinavian origin, while others consider it to be the past tense of an Anglo-Saxon verb meaning “to catch.” Luck signifies, therefore, a good catch, and is analogous to the German Glück. It has been aptly remarked that very many so-called strong-minded persons, who would not for a moment admit that they are superstitious, are yet not insensible to the fascination of this little monosyllable. As Christian people, we profess to believe implicitly in Divine Providence; yet often because we cannot understand its workings, we so far relapse into paganism as to worship secretly the Goddess Fortune. The fact is, that superstition is an ineradicable element of human nature. The combined forces of religion, education, philosophy, and common sense are allied in a perpetual warfare against it. The thousand and one little credulities which form such an important part of modern folk-lore may be intrinsically the veriest whimsies and trifles, but they are evidence of the tenacity of traditional beliefs.
The modern sailor carries in his pocket a bit of sealskin, or an eagle’s beak, to shield him from the lightning; and the Southern negro has his rabbit’s foot, and a host of other outlandish fetiches, all for luck.
The millions of American negroes have, indeed, a deeply-rooted love for the supernatural, and their character exhibits a peculiar blending of superstition and religion. Among the mixed colored races in Missouri, for example, we find a bewildering jumble of African Voodoo credulities, the traditions of the American Indian, and religious fanaticism. Thus, in “Voodoo Tales,” by Mary A. Owen, we read of an old crone who kept her medicine-pipe and eagle-bone whistle alongside of her books of devotion, carried a rosary and rabbit’s foot in the same pocket, and wore a saint’s toe dangling on her bosom, and a luck-ball under her right arm.
It has been well said that only those whose minds are predisposed to entertain idle fancies are wont to regard misfortune as a natural sequence of the legion of alleged evil omens. Yet we know that in all ages and countries such notions have prevailed. The ancient Chaldeans made use of magic formulæ to ward off ill-luck, and Tacitus relates that the most trivial events were regarded as portentous by the Roman people. What a contrast to the credulity of a superstitious age is afforded by the often quoted remark of Cato the Censor, who refused to regard it as ominous when informed that his boots had been gnawed by rats! “If the boots had gnawed the rats,” he said, “it might have portended evil.”
There is a deal of philosophy in the Irish saying, “Every man has bad luck awaiting him some time or other, but leave the bad luck to the last; perhaps it may never come.”
In attributing the sundry and divers misfortunes of our lives to bad luck, we surely ignore the fact that these same unwelcome experiences are often the logical sequences of our own shortcomings, and that the fickle goddess cannot with fairness be made always to masquerade as our scapegoat.