New England Folk Medicine: Job's Tears

A few weeks ago I was in the Caribbean on a group tour. We visited a lot of beautiful lush islands, including Dominica.

While we were in Dominica we took a bus high up into the hills (really high!) to see the Trafalgar Falls. After parking we trekked off down a trail through the rainforest to see these two two falls, one of which is hot from volcanic activity, while the other is quite cold. We took photos, admired the foliage, saw a land crab hiding in its hole, and then headed back to the parking lot.

Adjacent to the parking lot was a souvenir market where a bunch of local women were selling their wares. I looked at soaps, hot sauce, small raffia animals, etc. Nothing really stood out. Then I noticed one woman selling what looked like necklaces made of spices and white beads.

"Smell it," she said. "It will keep your closet fresh. It has cocoa beans, nutmeg, bay leaves, turmeric and ginger."

I inhaled. It smelled like autumn in a chocolate factory. 

"What are these white beads?" I asked.

"Those are Job's tears," she said. "They grow down near the river banks here."

Job's tears?

"I'll take it!" I said. Actually, I took three, because they were three for five dollars, which seemed like a bargain.

If you think you've stumbled onto the wrong blog, rest assured there is a connection to New England folklore. Job's tears were used in 19th century New England folk medicine.

Job's tears are technically the seed of the coix lachryma plant, which is native to Asia but now grows in warm climates worldwide. When the seeds are harvested they become hard and white. Mostly used for decorative purposes, various systems of folk medicine also prescribe them as cures for different ailments.

In late 19th century New England, for example, it was believed that teething children should wear Job's tears to soothe their teething pains. The folklorist Fanny Bergren documented this in Boston, Portland, Maine and in Boston, Cambridge, and Peabody, Massachusetts.

A pharmacist in Peabody sold them in his store specifically for this purpose, but local mothers also believed they could prevent or cure sore throats and diphtheria. Bergren notes that one mother brought in a string of the beads she had purchased and showed them triumphantly to the pharmacist. The beads, which were white when she bought them, were now dark and stained.

She explained to the pharmacist that the dark stains had been caused when the beads drew the diphtheria out of her sick child's body and into the necklace. The pharmacist, however, suspected it was just dirt from the child's neck.

I'm not sure why people thought Job's tears would cure sore throats and diphtheria. I suppose I can understand the connection to teething babies, since the small white beads resemble baby teeth, but the sore throat connection is unclear to me. If you have any information on this please let me know!

The plant and its beads are of course named after Job, the Biblical character who suffers miserably after God and Satan decided to test his faith. They heaped a lot of suffering upon him, and although he wept a lot Job did not lose faith in God. Job's tears are also called Saint Mary's tears, Christ's tears, and David's tears. With all those Biblical connotations its no surprise they are often used to make rosaries, which seems like a better idea than using them to heal diphtheria. We now live in a world with effective vaccines, so maybe if I lived in the 19th century I would think otherwise.

I found much of the information for this post in Fanny Bergren's article, "Some Bits of Plant-Lore" in the Jan. - Mar. 1982 issue of The Journal of American Folklore.

Bringing Up Baby - Magic for Your Infant

People are often critical of parents these days, saying they spend too much time and money trying to guarantee their children a good future with dance lessons, tutors, soccer practice, and forced community service. "Why oh why," these critics say, "can't we let children be children and raise them like they were in the past?"

Well, surprise surprise. Parents in past also wanted what was best for their children and did what they could to give them a good future. Sometimes they would even use a little magic. They probably wouldn't have used the word magic, but I think that's the modern category the following folk practices best fit into.

Folk painting by Sheldon Peck (1797 - 1868)

For example, to ensure that your newborn will grow up to be smart, be sure to take him/her up a flight of stairs before you ever bring him/her down a flight of stairs. Ideally you should bring your baby all the way up to the attic and bump his head (gently) against the ceiling.

This folklore is from the 19th century, when most women still give birth at home. The assumption is that if you gave birth on the ground floor you would bring your baby up to the second floor or even higher. If you gave birth on the second floor you could bring him up to the attic. The symbolism is obvious - you want your baby to rise in the world.

Of course there is the possibility that you might give birth in the attic or in a house that has only one floor. Does this mean that your baby is destined to a low-achieving dunderhead? No! Simply bring in a small stepladder and walk up it with your baby. You will have done the symbolic moving up in the world, and your baby can now be carried down a flight of stairs without concern for its future.

Conversely, within the first eleven months of your baby's life you want it to fall out of bed at least once. This is a sign that s/he is intelligent and will do well in life. I guess it is also a sign that carrying the baby up stairs to the attic really worked.

While these charms and omens seem kind of cute others are a little more serious. Infant mortality was quite high in the past and most families feared losing a child. Carrying the baby up the stepladder was supposed to ensure she lived through her first year. You should also leave at least one article of clothing unmade or unpurchased before a child is born to make sure it is healthy the first twelve months. To have a full wardrobe for an unborn child is tempting fate. You don't want to look too confident to those powers that control a baby's health.

As I mentioned in a post several years ago, you also shouldn't allow your baby to see its reflection before it is a year old. To do so indicates the child will die.

I don't want to end on a particularly dour note. After all, life is full of second chances. A mother who loses her baby should sell all the deceased child's clothing. It's said this will bring more children to her in the future.

I found this information in Fanny Bergen's Current Superstitions. Collected from the Oral Tradition of English Speaking Folk (1896).