One of the best sources we have of the superstitions and old wives’ tales that governed the lives of our distant ancestors is a medieval French manuscript called Les Évangiles des Quenouilles, which, in around 1470, recorded on parchment the wisdom of six peasant women. The manuscript is a precious resource for those interested in folklore for two principal reasons: firstly, until this time, knowledge of this kind was passed down orally and rarely documented, which means that many of the beliefs and customs of the Middle Ages have been lost to us. Secondly, because it dates from before the vilification of village wise women as witches, the women whose observations appear in it were free to divulge their ancient lore, charms and cures without fear of persecution. Thus we have a richer, more detailed account of the folklore of the time than we could have hoped for once women like the manuscript’s authors were shunned, or worse. In 1507 an English translation of the manuscript, called The Gospelles of Dystaues, or The Distaff Gospels, was published and within its pages can be found early versions of many of the superstitions we’re familiar with today.
Among them is this still commonly held belief that giving a knife or a pair of scissors as a gift will result in the bonds between the giver and the receiver being severed. The Distaff Gospels put it like this: ‘If a man offers a knife to his mistress as a New Year’s gift, you should know that their love will cool off.’
The only antidote to this was for the recipient to give a coin in return. This was seen to count as ‘payment’ for the knife and ensured that it wasn’t technically a gift. All early references to the belief focus on knives, but by the early 1700s the superstition had extended to include scissors, which were also believed to have the power to cut ties between people, their friends and their fortunes. (See also It Is Bad Fortune to Use Scissors on New Year’s Day.)
We all like a superstition that presents the possibility that something beneficial might be coming our way and the modern version of this belief allows for a bit of optimism: if your left palm itches, you will soon receive money. Perhaps as a result of our desire for good news, combined with the fact that this is a superstition based simply on an observation rather than an action, it has stood the test of time, though few of us pay much heed to an itch on the right palm, which is said to indicate the imminent loss of a substantial sum.
Some sources suggest that the origin of this belief lies with the Anglo-Saxon practice of rubbing diseased skin with silver to cure it. The first documented use of silver in medicine dates back to the eighth century, when silver filings were used to purify blood and ease heart palpitations and by the twelfth century, the word ‘silver’ had evolved from the Old English ‘seolfor’ and it was being used widely for medicinal purposes. Modern scientists now understand the anti-bacterial qualities of the silver ion and it is still used in wound dressings, especially since the rise of antibiotic-resistant infections like MRSA.
However, while we consider an itchy left palm a lucky thing, our Elizabethan forefathers saw it as a curse, linking it to greed and covetousness. Even if the money flowed in, the desire for money, which they believed was indicated by an itching palm, was seen as a very bad quality. In Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Brutus observes: ‘Let me tell you Cassius, you yourself are much condemned to have an itching palm.’
While we certainly prize wealth in the modern age, we also recognize the perils of preoccupying greed, and though we don’t think of an itching palm as a sign of avarice, we do still say ‘he’s got itchy palms’ of people whom we suspect of trying to swindle money out of us.