The Magic of the Horse-shoe, with other folk-lore notes — A Reader’s Guide

From Horse-Shoe to Salt: The Range of Topics

The catalog subject is simply “Folklore,” but the excerpts reveal a narrower focus on specific superstitions and customs. The table of contents lists chapters on the horse-shoe, fortune and luck, common salt, sneezing omens, days of good and evil omen, dealings with animals, and odd numbers. This is not a general survey but a set of discrete essays, each tracing a single belief across time and place. The horse-shoe chapter, which Lawrence says he aimed to make “as exhaustive as possible,” dominates the collection. The salt chapter includes a Roman folk-tale about a king’s three daughters and their comparative love, illustrating how salt was valued as a food staple. The excerpts show Lawrence drawing on sources like Robert Howard’s “Revelations of Egyptian Mysteries” to argue about the propriety of salt consumption.

Evidence and Anecdote: Lawrence’s Method

Lawrence’s approach is compilatory: he gathers quotations, historical notes, and folk narratives without strong analytical framing. In the salt chapter, he presents a Roumanian forest-myth about a maiden emerging from a laurel tree to salt a prince’s dinner, then a Roman legend about a king testing his daughters’ love. The transitions between these are minimal—often a sentence like “This section may be appropriately concluded with the following translation.” The preface admits the material is “heterogeneous” and that systematic treatment was difficult. Lawrence does not synthesize or compare; he accumulates. The reader encounters a series of discrete facts and stories, linked by topic rather than argument. This makes the book a reference-like collection rather than a thesis-driven study.

The Author’s Stated Audience and Intent

Lawrence explicitly addresses his audience in the preface: “this book, treating of popular beliefs, is intended for popular reading.” He anticipates criticism from expert folklorists but hopes the volume’s “diligent research” will give it value. The excerpts bear this out: the writing is accessible, with literary epigraphs (Whittier, Longfellow) and folk tales retold in plain English. Lawrence does not claim originality; he presents himself as a compiler. The book’s origin in a conference paper and its publication by Houghton, Mifflin suggest a genteel, late-Victorian readership interested in curious customs. The catalog subject “Folklore” is accurate but broad; the actual content is a cabinet of curiosities rather than a systematic treatise.

Readers approaching this book should expect a series of standalone essays, each dense with historical and literary references. The horse-shoe chapter is the most developed; later chapters are shorter and more anecdotal. Lawrence’s voice is that of a learned amateur, not a theorist. The value lies in the range of sources he assembles—from classical authors to contemporary folk tales—rather than in any overarching argument. Those interested in the history of superstition will find a useful compendium, but one that reflects its era’s assumptions about progress and civilization.

I've spent many evenings with the good doctor’s Magic of the Horse-shoe, noting how a sneeze or a spilled pinch of salt once bound whole villages in shared meaning. That same quiet thread—how ordinary objects carry the weight of generations—runs through Strange Pages from Family Papers — Background and Themes, which feels like a familiar hand slipping into mine across the reading table.