An ABC of Witchcraft Past and Present - Doreen Valiente 2018

Love charms

The idea of the love charm seems to be one that never dies, because the human race wants so much to believe in it. From the tragic legend of Tristan and Isolde, through the concoctions of medieval witches, to the slyly-worded advertisements of today, the love charm, potion or philtre still keeps its place in our folklore. Doctors have repeatedly assured us that the effects of so-called love potions and aphrodisiacs are mainly, if not entirely, psychological; but it seems to make no difference.

In America, practitioners of what is called in the U.S.A. voodoo, but which has gathered to itself many of the practices of European witchcraft, sell “lucky roots” and various brands of scented oils and powders, which are bought as love charms. Perhaps the most famous of these, and one particularly favoured by men to aid them in their love enterprises, is John the Conqueror Root. This is a dried root with a prong or spike growing out of it, an obvious piece of phallic symbolism. It is carried in a little bag, of chamois leather or red cloth, as a lucky piece.

What this root actually is has been kept a big secret by those who sell it; but I am told that it is the root of the marsh St. John’s wort (Hypericum elodes). If this is correct, then the belief in it goes back many centuries, because the St. John’s wort, of which there are a number of varieties, has a time-honoured reputation as a magical plant. It gets its name from being one of the plants traditionally gathered for magical purposes on Midsummer Eve, or the Eve of St. John the Baptist, the night of 23rd-24th June.

Young men whose fancy turns to thoughts of love may be glad to know that marsh St. John’s wort grows in Britain and Europe also. However, it is more often women who have resorted to love charms throughout the ages. The sweet-scented verbena has a reputation of attracting love to its user; so have the scents of musk and patchouli. The fragrant orris root, sometimes called ’love root’, was used by our grandmothers to scent their best underclothes.

The number of foods, drinks, perfumes, herbs and so on, that have at one time or another been believed to be love charms or aphrodisiacs, is absolutely legion. When tomatoes were first introduced into this country, they were regarded with much suspicion, and were known as love apples. Potatoes, too, when they arrived here in the first Queen Elizabeth’s time, were believed to be stimulating in matters of love; which is why Shakespeare in his Troilus and Cressida speaks of “the devil luxury, with his fat rump and potato-finger”.

LOVE CHARMS. A young witch performs a love spell in “The Charm of Love” by the Master of Niederheim, an unknown Flemish artist of the fifteenth century.

Fish as an article of food has an even more ancient reputation as an aphrodisiac, probably because Venus herself was said to have been born from the sea. Hence, perhaps, the British fondness for fish and chips is not quite so innocent as it seems.

There is, of course, a difference between a real love charm, which is something with a magical influence, and an aphrodisiac. The latter, named after the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite, is simply something which stimulates sexual ardour. In practice, however, the two have become much confused; and most so-called love potions or philtres are really just aphrodisiacs.

A liqueur wine with a piece of ginseng root in it is imported from the Far East, and widely sold in London today, to those who believe in it as a love potion of this sort. It retails at over £3 a bottle, but still finds eager purchasers. In fact, the ginseng root is a Chinese counterpart of the mandrake, being in form like a tiny human figure, and said to utter “a low musical cry” when taken from the earth. Its legend is less sinister and more benign than that of the mandrake; but nevertheless, the real basis of the belief in the virtues of the ginseng elixir is a magical one. The lore of the mandrake deserves an article to itself. (See MANDRAKE.)

Many love charms of the olden time consisted of the most disgusting and revolting ingredients, such as the genital parts of animals or birds, especially those renowned for their sexual activity. Also, the products of the human body, such as semen, menstrual blood and even excrement, were used. In fact, some devotees of sorcery seem to have had the idea that the more repulsive their magic was, the more likely it was to work.

One turns with relief from such nastiness, to the rather charming picture in the Leipzig Museum, which shows a beautiful young witch preparing a love charm. This painting dates from about the middle of the fifteenth century; and although the artist is unknown, we may be certain from the details he shows that his acquaintance with witchcraft was remarkably close.

For one thing, the witch in the picture, instead of being a horrible old hag, is a young and attractive girl. Instead of being depicted in some fantastic setting, such as a dark and gloomy cave with demons and bats flying around, this witch is working in an ordinary room in a house, where most witches really did (and do) work. She is naked, with loose flowing hair, and her feet are shod with sandals; the age-old custom of ritual nudity in order to work magic. The room has a convenient fireplace, so she need not be cold.

Scattered about the floor are sprigs of herbs and flowers; and beside the witch is a little table, serving as an altar. On this is an open casket, with something inside it which looks like a heart, which has probably been cut out of red cloth or modelled in wax. On this heart-symbol the witch is pouring some drops of magical oil or essence. Couched at her feet is her familiar; not some weird creature of fantasy, but a normal little animal, a dog.

Evidently her spell is working; for just opening the door of the room, with a trance-like expression on his face, is the young man she has been trying to draw to her. Probably some of his hair, or something similar, to make a magical link between him and the witch, has been incorporated in the symbolic heart.

Two other notable details of this picture may be mentioned. On the wall, the artist has shown a typical witch mirror hanging; a small, round mirror in a frame, such as witches use for spells and clairvoyance (I have two examples of these in my own collection). Lastly, apparently floating about the room are curious ribbons of light, which seem to be an attempt to depict the power the young witch is raising. This scene could have been taking place today—and somewhere, something like it probably was, because the desire for love is one of the strongest human emotions, in any age.

There are many old country magics, which might have been commended to village girls by the local witch when they came to her cottage for a confidential talk. She might, for instance, tell them about the rather indelicate, though time-honoured charm called ’cockle-bread’. This was described in the seventeenth century by John Aubrey. who called it “a relique of Naturall Magick, an unlawful Philtrum”. Briefly, it consisted of a small loaf, the dough for which had been kneaded in a very peculiar way. The girl who made it had to lift up her skirts and press the dough with the intimate parts of her bare body. (The name ’cockle-bread’ comes from the fact that ’cockles’ is an old vulgar term for the labia minora.) Then the dough so treated was baked into a loaf, and given to the man she wanted. If she could persuade him to eat it, of course without telling him what it was, he was as good as hers.

An old book on fortune-telling gives this version of another traditional spell:

Let any unmarried woman take the bladebone of a shoulder of lamb, and borrowing a penknife (without saying for what purpose), she must, on going to bed, stick the knife once through the bone every night for nine nights in succession—in different places—repeating every night while so doing, these words:

’Tis not the bone I mean to stick,

But my lover’s heart I mean to prick;

Wishing him neither rest nor sleep,

Till he comes to me to speak.

Accordingly at the end of nine days, or shortly after, he will come and ask for something to put to a wound, inflicted during the time you were charming him.

This account, however, has omitted what was considered an essential detail, namely that the girl should whisper the man’s name when she stuck in the knife, instead of just saying “my lover”. Also, she must do this regularly for nine successive nights; to forget one night would break the spell. In other words, will-power and concentration were needed, and when such spells as this worked, it was by the power of thought.

Some old love charms were forms of divination, to see one’s future lover in a dream. One of these was worked with the aid of the wild flower called yarrow (Achillea millefolium). The girl had to pluck a handful of yarrow flowers, sew them into a little bag of flannel and put the bag beneath her pillow at night, repeating these words:

Thou pretty herb of Venus’ tree,

Thy true name it is yarrow;

Now who my bosom friend may be

Pray tell thou me tomorrow.

One version of this charm advised that the yarrow should be plucked when the new moon was in the sky; and another said that the flowers had to be growing on a young man’s grave. If a man worked the spell, he had to take the yarrow from a young woman’s grave.

Folklore preserves so many of these spells for seeing the lover in a dream, that one wonders if, by the power of suggestion, someone who performed such a ceremony in complete faith might really have a meaningful dream. This is a question for the student of the psychology of dreams to resolve.

The above are only a few typical examples of the innumerable spells, charms and philtres connected with love and desire. Egyptian papyri contain recipes for love potions; and human nature has not really changed much, if at all, since the days of the Pyramids.