It is Halloween week. The Hunter’s Moon just went full and is now slowly getting eaten, night by night, on its way to All Hallows’ Eve. The veil is thin. The candy is half gone (I bought it early, which was a mistake).
So let’s talk about the Hag.
You may have met her. You wake up in the middle of the night and you cannot move. Not a finger. You can’t scream either, which you would very much like to do, because there is something in the room. You can feel it. And then there is weight on your chest, pressing down, and you are absolutely certain something is sitting on you.
Then, just as suddenly, it’s over. And you lie there with all the lights on until morning.
You’ve just been visited by the Old Hag.
She gets around
In Newfoundland, this experience became so well known that it had a name. You weren’t having a bad night. You were hag-ridden. The Hag didn’t always show up as an old woman, either. Some people saw a dark figure, some felt a shapeless presence, and some saw things they couldn’t describe at all. Whatever form she took, the experience was remarkably similar: you were awake, helpless, and absolutely convinced something had come for you.
In Brazil, she’s the Pisadeira, a hideous old woman with long fingernails who lurks on rooftops and climbs down to stomp on the chests of sleepers. She especially likes people who go to bed on their backs with a full stomach. I’m not saying the Pisadeira is just heartburn with fingernails. But I’m not not saying it.
In Scandinavia, she’s the mara, a spirit that rides or presses down on people in their sleep. And that’s where English gets the word “nightmare.” The mare was never a bad dream. She was the thing that gave you the bad dream, by sitting on you. (And no, it has nothing to do with horses. Well...sort of nothing. We’ll get there.)
In the 1970s, researchers finally started paying attention. Folklorist David Hufford spent years collecting Old Hag stories in Newfoundland, and in 1978 a researcher named Robert Ness published a study linking them to a medical condition called sleep paralysis. What made the stories so interesting was how consistent they were. Waking up unable to move or speak, sensing a presence in the room, and feeling pressure on the chest. These weren’t just spooky tales told to scare kids into bed. Ordinary adults were reporting terrifying experiences that felt completely real.
Different countries, different centuries, and different explanations for essentially the same terrifying experience. Naturally, people weren't content to lie there and take it. They wanted protection, preferably something that could keep the Hag from showing up in the first place.
Enter the hagstone
A hagstone is a stone with a hole worn clean through it by water. No tools, no cheating. If you’ve read our About page, you know I named this shop for the hagstone’s knack for helping you see things as they really are. But its original night job was a lot spookier.
It was Hag repellent.
For centuries, people hung hagstones near their beds as one of the methods used to protect themselves from witches, nightmares, and the possibility of being hag-ridden. The Science Museum in London has a charm made of eleven holed stones strung on a wire, meant to hang at the head of a bed to keep nightmares away. The Museum of Witchcraft and Magic in Cornwall has one from Exmouth that hung on a bedpost for the same reason.
I am not going to lie, hagstones are cool. I would think stringing them up as a necklace would attract more then deter any girl worth her stones...get it...what I did there....
About those horses
Remember the mare? The Hag liked her horses. It is said that farmers would find their horses in the morning sweaty, exhausted, and worked up, like something had ridden them hard all night. So hagstones went up in stables too. The Museum of Witchcraft and Magic has a string of eight of hagstones that were supposed to keep hags and pixies from taking the horses out for a midnight gallop.
I also found a painting showing a sleeping woman with a hag and a horse, by some Swiss painter named Fuseli...but it is ugly and he made the hag look like a goblin...which is insulting...so we shall pass.
Anyway....Science.
So what is really happening? During REM sleep, the stage where you have your most vivid dreams, your brain shuts off most of your muscles so you don’t get up and act out your dreams. Smart system. But every so often, your mind wakes up before your body gets the memo. You’re awake, you can see your room, and you can’t move.
And because your brain is still half-dreaming, it fills in the blanks. Shadowy figures. Footsteps. Someone standing by the bed. Pressure on your chest. Your breathing muscles keep working just fine, but it doesn’t feel that way. Add a big dose of panic and your good night went just went south.
This is called sleep paralysis, and while it can be terrifying, isolated episodes are generally harmless. They usually last anywhere from a few seconds to several minutes before your body gets its act together and lets you move.
Sleep paralysis is associated with things like stress, sleep deprivation, irregular sleep hours, and sleeping on your back. For those of you who haven't experienced sleep paralysis, the advice is fairly straightforward. Manage stress, don't eat before bed, hang your rocks, and get regular sleep...you get the picture.
Goodnight, sleep tight
What makes this so interesting is that even though science is telling us the frightening presence is simply our brains caught somewhere between sleeping and waking, there have been so many people, in so many places, that have experienced something similar enough that they gave it a name, a face, and a list of rules. They called them hags, witches and spirits. They invented ways to keep them away and passed those beliefs down through generations.
I like to think I am rational, and when I go to sleep I will listen to science and know it is probably a hot flash that is waking me up in the middle of the night. But maybe this week, while the moon wastes away and the veil does whatever the veil does, I will go for a walk by some water. Maybe I will look down. And maybe if i see a stone with a hole in it, I will pick it up. And maybe I will hang it over my bed.
Just in case.