Magic Stones of Callander


Dr. Dafoe and one of his charges, Yvonne this time.

The accumulated superstitions of the last 5,000 years combine these days to bring Dr. Allan Roy Dafoe the strangest mail ever to pass through a modern post-office.

It is strange mail because it contains requests from childless couples for the "magic stones" of Callander - rocks from the Dionne homestead that hold the power, these couples believe, to give them children. Thus the world returns to a theory that goes back to the dawn of primitive tribal beliefs.

You'd think, doubtless, that the world had long ago rejected such aboriginal concepts - but one look at the mail that comes to the famous quintuplets' physician will settle that point. The requests for magic stones are, in fact, increasing, despite anything that Dr. Dafoe can do. Aside from the fact that he naturally doesn't believe in the old superstition, he most emphatically doesn't want to bothered with the world-wide string of letters he is now getting.

Unfortunately for the doctor, however, it appears that the world has plenty of childless couples who subscribe to the ancient belief, the rocks of Oliva Dionne's modest farm are plentiful, and so the requests continue to pour in. The recent arrival of a new baby in the Dionne household may be expected to swell the number of requests.

Most often, says Dr. Dafoe, the letters ask for "magic stones" picked up in the yard of the little Dionnes' private nursery, but the "customers" will take any stone around the Dionne homestead in a pich. Most of the send a dollar bill for the pebbles, others enclose stamps and a few send nothing. All, however, get the same response from the country doctor - he send back the money but no stones! He does, nevertheless, take an active interest in the whole affair for the pure psychological problem it provides. For that reason he is usually available to the many couples who journey to Callander to gather some of its stones.

"It's exceedingly odd about these cases," the doctor will tell you. "Some of them who took pebbles home with them a year ago return with their first-born. They are sure that the Callander stones blessed them with the child. In some cases I have had couples, childless from 10 to 14 years, tell me that at last they had had their fondest wish fulfilled. Ever since the quintuplets were placed in their private nursery these couples have been writing and coming here, carrying off the granites and the schists. Whether it's just a coincidence that they are able to have children afterward, or a psychological principle, I am not able to explain. Maybe it's faith, or the power of suggestion. Perhaps it is the change of food, thought and the leading of a normal life while touring the north country. Whatever it is, it seems to work in some cases."

It works so well, in fact, that even Hollywood has heard of the idea and wants to try it. When Jean Hersholt was up here making the "Country Doctor" he gathered a boxful of the stones. He took them back to Hollywood for his friends who had heard of the unique prescription and were interested in testing it. Recently, says Dr. Dafoe, requests have come in large numbers from the British Isles. Others come from odd corners of the world to which the news of the Dionne quintuplets' birth and survival has spread. View these letters in the light of hoary superstitions that have shadowed the minds of the human race for 5,000 years and longer and they're easily enough explained.

Childless women have resorted to the "magic stone" cure with variations for centuries. Well authenticated studies offer positive proof of this. The carefully documented volumes of "The Golden Bough", treasure-house of legends and myths, are replete with stories of the magic stone application. In various form it was practised by the ancient Indian women of Peru, the Baganda tribes of Africa, the women of India and Japan, Scotland, England and countless other countries.

Indian girls of British Columbia, until very recently, practised the rite with little variation from its primitive beginning. Each morning the childless women of this tribe gathered two small stones from the closest stream, placed them near their heartd and proceeded to dash wildly about the tribal village, praying as they ran for the coming of a child. This custom was performed four times before high noon over a period of days, at the end of which time it was believed the prayers were certain to be answered.

With the primitive Indian women of Peru the rite was carried out a bit differently but with no less zest. The Peruvian women wrapped up little pebbles in cloth and deposited them at the foot of a specially appointed rock. In due time, it was thought, children would come as a result of the weird ceremony.

It remained for the people of the British Isles centuries later to develop one of the oddest applications of the magic stone faith. Foremost of the rite was that practised on the Dee river in Aberdeenshire near Ballater, Scotland. At this place women used to creep through a holed stone to insure themselves against childlessness. Pilgrims came long distances to try out the hollowed rock, and it must have been a tight squeeze for many of them. In recent years, it is said, a wealthy English socialite tried out the stone at Dee but without success.

Perhaps because the stones didn't work so well, women of the British Isles resorted to the "well" treatment offered at St. Fillan at Comrie, St. Mary and Whitekirk and at other points. Here is a story in itseld fully as incredible as the requests that keep coming to Dr. Dafoe. At Bingfield, Northumberland, for instance, there was a sulphur spring known for miles around as "Borewell" and to this spring flocked childless women of many communities. In fact, the magic powers of Borewell must have turned out to be a pretty good thing for the place. Eventually a special date was set aside known as "Midsummer Day" and great crowds assembled to watch the childless women of those parts go through the sacred rites of Borewell.

The ceremony of Borewell was in itself simple. Women desiring a child merely stepped up to the well, prostrated themselves and prayed. Their prayers would be heard in a year, they believed, if their faith was strong enough. The human imagination appears to have known no limits in conjuring up ideas if this kind. Take the mountaineers of Marocco. Ethnologists have found that these primitive people kindled huge bonfires on appointed days so that childless women could leap through the flame. After this flame-jumping act, they believed, children were absolutely assured.

Then there are the Eskimos of Bering Strait who make small doll-like images over which they perform special rites in the belied that these dolls will turn into living babies. With variations this worship of images is found in common practice on many remote parts of the world.

The miraculous birth and survival of the Dionnes was a perfect "natural" for the superstitious who interpreted events in terms of magic stones just as had their ancient forbears. For that matter "magic stones" have been used ny human race for a host of purposes. People have invoked them to produce sunshine, rain, famine and war. The old Greeks tried the stone trick to stop the flow of blood. Toothache, lumbago and jaundice were treated hundreds of years ago with stones and almost universally men have practised the custom of swearing on stones. Likewise stones have been used in the healing arts and employed to foster the growth of crops. New Caledionians used them to promote good fishing. When a native wanted to bring home an especially good catch he had the village wizard wrap up a couple of consecrated pebbled in a bright-colored cloth.

The great majority of superstitions and rites are, of course, just memories. A great many of those who write to Dr. Dafoe probably are souvenir hunters with no belief in the efficacy of the stones. In the middle ages, superstitions were a business. Charms of all sorts were believed to have supernatural power and people were willing to pay for them. Perhaps it is this vague superstition filtering through the practical knowledge of the twentieth century that still prompts belief and hope in what appears to be ridiculous.



The birth of the Dionne quintuplets has revived ancient superstitions about fertility.
Stones from the grounds around the quintuplets' hospital in Callander are especially prized.




Toronto Star Weekly - August 8, 1936