University of Virginia Library

LOVE CHARMS.

Sir J. Suckling.

The approach of a wedding in a family is
always an event of great importance, but particularly
so in a household like this, in a retired
part of the country. Master Simon, who is a
pervading spirit, and through means of the butler
and housekeeper, knows every thing that
goes forward, tells me that the maid servants are
continually trying their fortunes, and that the
servants' hall has of late been quite a scene of
incantation. It is amusing to notice how the
oddities of the head of a family flow down
through all the branches. The Squire, in the
indulgence of his love of every thing that

smacks of old times, has held so many grave
conversations with the parson at table, about
popular superstitions and traditional rites, that
they have been carried from the parlour to the
kitchen by the listening domestics, and, being
apparently sanctioned by such high authority,
the whole house has become infected by them.

The servants are all versed in the common
modes of trying luck, and the charms to ensure
constancy. They read their fortunes by drawing
strokes in the ashes; or by repeating a form
of words and looking in a pail of water. St.
Mark's Eve, I am told, was a busy time with
them, being an appointed night for certain mystic
ceremonies. Several of them sowed hemp
seed to be reaped by their true lovers; they
even ventured upon the solemn and fearful preparation
of the dumb cake. This must be done
fasting, and in silence. The ingredients are
handed down in traditional form. “An egg
shell full of salt, an egg shell full of malt, and
an egg shell full of barley meal.” When the
cake is ready it is put upon a pan over the fire,

and the future husband will appear, turn the
cake, and retire; but if a word is spoken, or a
fast is broken, during this awful ceremony—
there is no knowing what horrible consequences
would ensue! The experiments in the present
instance came to no result; they that sowed the
hemp seed forgot the magic rhyme that they
were to pronounce; so the true lover never appeared;
and as to the dumb cake, what between
the awful stillness they had to keep, and the
awfulness of the midnight hour, their hearts
failed them when they had put the cake on the
pan; and seized with a sudden panic, they all
ran out of the room and did not return until
morning, when they found the mystic cake
burnt to a cinder.

The most persevering at these spells, however,
is Phoebe Wilkins, the housekeeper's niece.
As she is a kind of privileged personage, and
rather idle, she has more time to occupy herself
with these matters. She has always had her
head full of love and matrimony. She knows
the dream book by heart, and is quite an oracle

among the little girls of the family, who always
come to her to interpret their dreams in the
mornings.

During the present gayety of the house, however,
the poor girl has gone about with a face
full of trouble, and to use the housekeeper's
words, “has fallen into a sad hystericky way
lately.” It seems that she was born and brought
up in the village, where her father was parish
clerk, and she was an early playmate and
sweetheart of young Jack Tibbets. Since she
has come to live at the Hall, however, her head
has been a little turned. Being very pretty
and naturally genteel, she has been much noticed
and indulged; and being the housekeeper's
niece, she has held an equivocal station between
a servant and a companion. She has learned
something of fashions and notions among the
yooung ladies, which have effected quite a metamorphosis;
insomuch that her finery at church
on Sundays has given mortal offence to her former
intimates in the village. This has occasioned
the misrepresentations which have awakened

the implacable family pride of Dame
Tibbets. But what is worse, Phoebe having a
spice of coquetry in her disposition, showed it
on one or two occasions to her lover, which produced
a downright quarrel, and Jack, being very
proud and fiery, has absolutely turned his back
upon her for several successive Sundays.

The poor girl is full of sorrow and repentance,
and would fain make up with her lover;
but he feels his security, and stands aloof. In
this he is doubtless encouraged by his mother;
who is continually reminding him what he owes
to his family: for this same family pride seems
doomed to be the eternal bane of lovers. As I
hate to see a pretty face in trouble, I have felt
quite concerned for poor Phoebe ever since I
have heard her story. I am told that the coolness
of young Ready Money is very heavy at
her heart. Instead of singing about the house
as formerly, she goes about pale and sighing,
and is very apt to break into tears when her
companions are full of merriment.

Mrs. Hannah, the vestal gentlewoman of my

Lady Lillycraft, has had long talks with Phoebe,
and has endeavoured to squeeze some of her
own verjuice into the other one's milky nature.
She speaks with contempt and abhorrence of the
whole sex, and advises Phoebe to despise all the
men as she does. But Phoebe's loving temper
is not to be curdled. There is no such thing as
hatred or contempt for mankind in her whole
composition. Her only thoughts are how to
conciliate and reclaim her lover.

The spells and love charms which are matters
of sport to the other domestics, are serious concerns
with this love-stricken lass. She is continually
trying her fortune in a variety of ways.
I am told that she has absolutely fasted for six
Wednesdays and three Fridays successively,
having understood that it was a sovereign charm
to ensure being married to one's liking within
the year. She carries about, also, a lock of her
sweetheart's hair, and a ribband he once gave
her, being a mode of producing constancy in
love. She even went so far as to try her fortune
by the moon, which has always had much to do

with lovers' dreams and fancies. For this purpose
she went out in the night of the full moon,
knelt on a stone in the meadow, and repeated the
old traditional rhyme:
When she came back to the house she was faint
and pale, and went immediately to bed; the next
morning she told her companions that she had
seen some one close by the hedge in the meadow,
which she was sure was young Tibbets; at any
rate she had dreamt of him all night; both of
which, she was assured, were most happy signs.
It has since turned out that the person in the
meadow was old Christy the huntsman, who
was walking his nightly rounds with the great
stag hound; so that Phoebe's faith in the charm
is completely shaken.