Magpies are unmistakeable. Members of the crow family, seen from a distance they are long-tailed birds with distinctive black and white plumage. Up close, however, the colouration is more subtle. In the right light a Eurasian magpie’s wing feathers take on a purplish-blue iridescent sheen, while the tail bears hints of a subtle glossy green. It’s a handsome bird, and also – in some circles – a controversial one.

Some people dislike magpies because they are noisy, raucous birds that posture and strut around gardens, parkland and fields, apparently believing themselves to be top bird. Others object to their omnivorous lifestyle, which can include raiding the nests of smaller birds and carrying off their eggs and chicks. And their reputation for stealing jewellery and other bright, shiny objects wins magpies few friends amongst their human neighbours.

However, while their fondness for scavenging and their bully-boy tendencies on the bird table make them unpopular with squeamish bird lovers, it is their alleged association with Satan that upsets others. Yes, that’s right, folklore tells us that magpies are in league with the Devil. According to this tradition, magpies refused to join the other birds in mourning at Christ’s crucifixion, thus marking themselves out as the Devil’s own.

The magpie’s supposed indifference to Jesus’ crucifixion is just one of a huge number of tales and superstitions that surround this striking bird. In the UK, one of the first nursery rhymes many children hear is about magpies. The rhyme references the birds’ association with prophecy, and is found in countless variations up and down the country. Here is just one of them:

One for sorrow
Two for joy
Three for a girl 
Four for a boy 
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven for a secret never to be told

So, according to this piece of folklore, the future that awaits you is indicated by the number of magpies you see. It’s a compelling part of our oral tradition, and I must confess that one day a little over a year ago – when a new baby was expected in our family – Mrs P and I happily counted the number of magpies we could see in order to predict the gender of the new-born. On the day in question we spotted three together in a field, and the baby, when born, was indeed a girl. Spooky!

The same nursery rhyme indicates that spotting a single magpie is a harbinger of bad luck. Again, this belief is deeply embedded within our culture. I clearly remember a former work colleague revealing that, when out for a drive in the countryside, he and his wife would wave vigorously to any lone magpies they spotted, because in so doing they were bidding farewell to ill-luck. 

Alternatively, to dissipate the impending misfortune associated with seeing a single magpie, you should point it out to someone else, presumably on the basis that bad luck shared is bad luck halved. And if there’s nobody else around to take on the burden, the best course of action is to salute the magpie with a cheery ‘’Good morning Mr Magpie, how is your lady wife today?’ in the hope that he will take pity on you!

How did a single magpie become associated with bad luck? One theory is that, as magpies mate for life, seeing one by itself may suggest that its partner has perished. The surviving magpie has therefore suffered bad luck, and associating with it may cause its bad luck to transfer to the observer. However, by asking after the welfare of the lone magpie’s wife you demonstrate your belief that his partner is alive and well, which, if true, means no bad luck awaits you.

As well as waving to a lone magpie, or asking after the health of his wife, there are other ways in which the bad luck might be avoided. These include raising your hat to the bird, spitting three times over your shoulder, blinking rapidly to fool yourself into thinking you’ve seen two magpies rather than one, and flapping your arms about wildly and cawing loudly to mimic the magpie’s missing mate. But be warned: most of these activities, if undertaken in public, are likely to result in ridicule, arrest or an enforced appointment with a psychiatrist.

This post barely scratches the surface of the superstitions surrounding magpies. Variations on the theme include the following:

• In Scotland, a single magpie seen near a window warns of an impending death. However, in the county of Sussex a magpie perched on a house roof is a good sign, indicating that the roof isn’t about to cave in.
• In Wales, if you see a magpie moving from left to right when you set off on a journey, that journey will be hazardous.
• Yorkshire folk associate magpies with witchcraft, and when seeing one (a magpie that is, not a native of Yorkshire!) you should make the sign of the cross to ward off evil spirits.
• According to tradition in the county of Dorset, if a fisherman sees a magpie before he sets sail he won’t catch any fish that day.
• In Somerset it is advised that you carry an onion with you at all times to protect you from the bad luck a magpie may bring. (As an aside, while I cannot testify as to the veracity of this advice I will readily admit that during my working life I sometimes kept a bulb of garlic in my office to ward off the accountants. I’m pleased to say it seemed to work!)

Regular readers of my blog will know I have a passion for folk music, and it’s therefore a pleasure to share with you below a link to a song about magpies. The harmonies may be challenging, but the story told is highly relevant to this post. It was written around 50 years ago by a guy called Davey Dodds. The story goes that one day Davey gave an old lady a lift in his new car. Davey was bemused, and probably a little horrified, when the lady insisted on shrieking “Devil, devil, I defy thee”, and spitting on the floor of his Jaguar every time she saw a magpie. 

Intrigued, Davey looked into the mythology of magpies, and this song is the result. Its lyrics* reference some of the magpie superstitions I’ve written about in this post, and others that I haven’t had space to include. This version on YouTube was recorded in 2014 by a trio of singers called the BlueBirds.

At first glance, magpie mythology is totally out of place in our rational, comfortable, well ordered 21st century lives. I mean, it’s all a load of nonsense, isn’t it? Of course it is! But on the other hand, the mere fact that humans embraced these stories for millennia tells us a lot about our species. Our ancestors believed that magpies were the Devil’s disciples. Gullible, weren’t they?

Today, large sections of society enthusiastically embrace the conspiracy theories and other vile lies peddled relentlessly on the internet. Their need to feel good about themselves, their quest for certainty and their desperate desire for simple answers to complex questions leads them to believe stuff that is patently ridiculous, often downright dangerous and occasionally evil. Gullible, aren’t we?

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* The complete lyrics to Davey Dodds’ song are as follows

Chorus (after every other verse)
One for sorrow, two for joy,
Three for a girl and for for a boy,
Five for silver, six for gold,
Seven for a secret never told,
Devil, devil, I defy thee.
Devil, devil, I defy thee.
Devil, devil, I defy thee.

Oh, the magpie brings us tidings
Of news both fair and foul;
She's more cunning than the raven,
More wise than any owl.

For she brings us news of the harvest
Of the barley, wheat and corn.
And she knows when we'll go to our graves
And how we shall be born.

She brings us joy when from the right,
Grief when from the left.
Of all the news that's in the air
We know to trust her best.

For she sees us at our labour,
And mocks us at our work.
And she steals the egg from out of the nest,
And she can mob the hawk.

The priest, he says we're wicked
To worship the devil's bird.
Ah, but we respect the old ways
And we disregard his word.

For we know they rest uneasy
As we slumber in the night.
And we'll always leave a little bit of meat
For the bird that's black and white.