THE “13” SUPERSTITION.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19009, 3 November 1923, Page 15

THE “13” SUPERSTITION.

STRANGE BF.LIEF THAT STILL SURVIVES. Don’t you believe the individual who insists that the “13” superstition is exploded. It is not.. Evidence of its existence is forthcoming every day, and while you do undoubtedly come across some stern, matter-of-fact people who openly laugh at the old superstition it is quite the reverse with those folks (and their number is legion) who are brought into intimate touch with the ill-omened number and its sinister significance. Just the other day, for instance, a wedding party in a town in the north was thrown in a state of something approaching panic when; it was discovered that there were 13 in ine company, and not one of them would sit down to the table until another guest had been _ secured. As the wedding feast was taking place in a hotel the difficulty was got_ oyer and the Fates duly propitiated by inviting a stranger from the adjoining sriioking-room to become one of the party. —Of Bibical Origin.— The very prevalent superstition that it is unlucky to sit down 13 to table is as old as it is general. This is usually traced back to the fact that 13 was the number at the Last Supper, Judas being the thirteenth. Some authorities carry the origin of the association of the number with misfortune still further back. Among the Hebrews the sign representing “13”’ and that representing “death” were identical. The 12 tribes, too, were said to correspond to the 12 months in the year, but the year held 13 lunar months, and for that reason the number “lo’’ was declared unlucky. Beyond this, however, it is an actuarial truism, founded on the calculation of insurance offices, that out of 13 adult persons,-taken indiscriminately, one will probably die within a year. On the other hand, an eminent gastronomic writer says that it is only unlucky to dine 13 at a table if the food be but sufficient for ’l2 ! Fuller refers to this in an anecdote telling how a covetous courtier complained to King Edward VI that Christ’s College, Cambridge, was a superstitious foundation consisting of a master and 12 fellows, in imitation of Christ and His 12 Apostles. He therefore advised the.-King to take away one or two fellowships so as to dissolve that unlucky number. “Oh, no,” replied the King, “I have a better way than that to mar their conceit. I will add a thirteenth fellowship to them”—which he accordingly did. Whatever the reason may really be the dislike of the number 13 is almost ,universal. Speaking of superstitions recently a gentleman who has travelled the world over said that of all the strange beliefs with which he has come in contact the “13” superstition is the most prevalent, and never yet has he seen 13 sit down to a meal without someone rising. A famous prima donna actuallv swooned away in the middle of a meal when someone pointed out that the company numbered 13. Actors and artists generally are peculiarly subject to the "13” superstition. A certain notable impresario, for example, who used to take concert parties and opera companies round the provinces, found that few of his artists (certainly none of the' foreigners) would sit down 15 at table, or occupy room No. 13. Probably the most weid and envious of all the numerous stories concerning the 13 at table superstition is that told in the “Life of Sir John Millais,” the celebrated painter, by his son. On one occasion Millais was at Birnam Hall, Murthly, with a number of guests, including Matthew ,Arnold, Miss G. S , and three of his sin’s old college friends, Edgar Dawson, Arthur Newton, anti E. S . ‘ At dinner one day Miss G. S called attention to the unlucky circumstance that 13 had sat down at the table. She dared not, she said, he one of the 13 after her painful experience on a former occasion when 13 were present, and Millais, failing to' laugh her out of her superstition, asked hia son to go and dine in the drawing-room. Still the lady was not at ease. She became very anxious, and said repeatedly: “I fear some calamity will happen.” When the ladies were about to rise Matthew Arnold observed with a laugh : t “Now, Miss S , the idea is that whoever leaves the table first will die within a year; so, with the permission of the ladies, we will cheat the Fates’ for once. I and these strong lads” (pointing to Edgar Dawson, and E. S ) “will all rise together, and I think our united constitutions will be able to withstand the assault of the Reaper.” The three men then rose. The sequel was remarkable. About six months later Matthew Arnold died suddenly of heart disease. Next, E. S was found dead in bed with an empty revolver by his side. And finally Edgar Dawson, coming home from a trip to Australia, went down in a ship which foundered on the coast of New Guinea. All three deaths happened within a year of the 13 dinner! No sane person, of course, really believes that if there had been 12 or 14 at that table instead of 13 their deaths would not have occurred. It is difficult, nevertheless, to entirely eliminate the sinister influence of the ili-omened number, and, needless to say, a story like that with its tragic sequel does not tend to lessen the number of those who swear by the superstition. Parnell and “13.” Public men of the .first rank, at any rate, are, not often influenced by superstitious beliefs. Yet Parnell, the great Irish Parliamentarian —one we would have thought the least likely pf victims—was a devout believer in this particular taboo. He would never dine 13 at a table, nor occupy a bedroom numbered 13, and when he discovered that the draft of a bill amending the Irish Land Act had 13 clauses ho threw it aside, according to the account given by Sir H. Lucy, “as if he had been stung.” “We must change it,” said Parnell. “It’s too unlucky!” And another clause was added forthwith. In pre-war days landlords and house agents everywhere found it extremely difficult to let houses numbered 13. As a matter of fact, not so long ago a wellknown specialist declined to accept a house in the West End of London because it was labelled with this unlucky number. How this superstition practically ruined a house and deprived a woman of her method of making a living was strikingly , illustrated in the case of a certain London boardinghouse keeper. The lady rented on a long lease a house which was numbered “13.” She had no superstitions herself, hut soon found that the would-be boarders had. Lodgers gave notice after stopping with her for a little while, because any misfortune they fell in with was attributed to stopping in a house numbered 13. .Other ledgers passed her by. .Accordingly she changed the number’to “12a,” but unfortunately omitted to ask the consent of the London County Council first. They insisted that she had no right to change the number of the house. Finally she was compelled to dispose of the lease at a great loss and move elsewhere. So universal, indeed, was the objection to number 15 during the years just preceding the war that this number disappeared from 25 per cent, of the streets of the Metropolis, and “12a” appeared in its place. Manv hotels have no rooms with the unlucky number, and on hoard many liners it is conspicuous by its absence from the cabins. It is the same in many other countries. On the Continent you may search all the hotels without finding a bedroom numbered 15. The unlucky bedroom is numbered, as a rule, “12 bis,’’ or “12a,” which is supposed to make it perfectly safe to sleep in. In Italy the Italians expurgate 13 from the numbers in their popular lotteries, and the Turks so dislike it that the very word is never used. The popular objection to this unpopular number in Austria was so strong that No. 13 boxes in the Imperial Theatre were never let, and all had to be renumbered. In the Austrian hospitals the same prejudice is also apparent, for none of them contain any one of the following:—No. 13 ward, No. 13 block, No. 13 staircase, No. 13 bed. Of course, it is only the misfortunes and sinister associations of this or il-