by Walter Scott
NOTE 6, p. 244
The mysterious rites in which Meg Merrilies is described as engagingbelong to her character as a queen of her race. All know that gipsies inevery country claim acquaintance with the gift of fortune-telling; but,as is often the case, they are liable to the superstitions of which theyavail themselves in others. The correspondent of Blackwood, quoted in theIntroduction to this Tale, gives us some information on the subject oftheir credulity.
'I have ever understood,' he says, speaking of the Yetholm gipsies,' thatthey are extremely superstitious, carefully noticing the formation of theclouds, the flight of particular birds, and the soughing of the winds,before attempting any enterprise. They have been known for severalsuccessive days to turn back with their loaded carts, asses, andchildren, upon meeting with persons whom they considered of unluckyaspect; nor do they ever proceed on their summer peregrinations withoutsome propitious omen of their fortunate return. They also burn theclothes of their dead, not so much from any apprehension of infectionbeing communicated by them, as the conviction that the very circumstanceof wearing them would shorten the days of their living. They likewisecarefully watch the corpse by night and day till the time of interment,and conceive that "the deil tinkles at the lyke-wake" of those who feltin their dead-thraw the agonies and terrors of remorse.'
These notions are not peculiar to the gipsies; but, having been oncegenerally entertained among the Scottish common people, are now onlyfound among those who are the most rude in their habits and most devoidof instruction. The popular idea, that the protracted struggle betweenlife and death is painfully prolonged by keeping the door of theapartment shut, was received as certain by the superstitious eld ofScotland. But neither was it to be thrown wide open. To leave the doorajar was the plan adopted by the old crones who understood the mysteriesof deathbeds and lykewakes. In that case there was room for theimprisoned spirit to escape; and yet an obstacle, we have been assured,was offered to the entrance of any frightful form which might otherwiseintrude itself. The threshold of a habitation was in some sort a sacredlimit, and the subject of much superstition. A bride, even to this day,is always lifted over it, a rule derived apparently from the Romans.
