Many early modern methods of divination could be practised without specialist skills or training. However, there also existed professionals who offered divinatory services for a fee. They can be loosely organised into three categories, although in practice there was plenty of crossover. At one end of the social spectrum were ‘magus’ figures. These included astrologers – commonly, natural philosophers with training in astronomy who offered personal readings – and ritual magicians, who might use spirit conjuration or scrying to divine occult knowledge. They were typically male and university-educated. They risked condemnation by the ecclesiastical and secular authorities, and possible charges of sorcery (prior to the 1736 decriminalisation of witchcraft). However, neither magical activity nor astrological prognostication alone was commonly prosecuted. The authorities were more likely to pursue cases of fraud or charges against diviners who used prophecy to sow social disorder.
A rung down the social ladder we find cunning folk. They served local communities, defending against witches and providing magical services. This was a skilled role, and about two thirds of practitioners seem to have been male. There was a clear distinction in popular culture between witches, who worked magic for evil purposes, and cunning folk, who sought to protect their neighbours. All the same, cunning folk were sometimes prosecuted for witchcraft, as well as for fraud.
At the bottom of the hierarchy we find fortune-tellers, who were not typically considered to be skilled practitioners. Most were female. They could have a fixed abode and attract clients to them, but they were also commonly itinerant, travelling about the country and offering their services in the streets, at fairgrounds or directly by approaching people’s houses. Palmistry was a particularly common offering. Many in this group were characterised as ‘Egyptians’, shortened to ‘gypsies’, although it’s not clear whether the majority of British ‘gypsies’ in this period were part of the Romani diaspora from India, or primarily Scottish and English travellers. Fortune-tellers were most likely to appear in court rooms on charges of vagrancy, or sometimes fraud or theft.
Images of different diviners from an eighteenth-century pamphlet.1The Universal Fortune Teller (London, 1790), Google Books.
Simon Forman (1552-1611)2See esp. Lauren Kassell, Medicine and Magic in Elizabethan London: Simon Forman, Astrologer, Alchemist, and Physician (Oxford, 2005). Image references:
1) Engraving of Simon Forman by an unknown artist (c. 1611), Wikimedia Commons.
2) Reading for Elizabeth Phoenix from Forman’s casebooks, MS Ashmole 195, 205v, Cambridge Digital Library.
3) Painting of Simon Forman (c. 1900) after J. Bulfinch (active c. 1680-1720), Wellcome Collection.
4) Woodcut from London’s Wonder ([London], [1671-1702?]), EBBA.
5) Painting of Frances Howard by William Larkin (c. 1615), Wikimedia Commons.
Andrew Man (d. 1598)3Main primary source: Miscellany of the Spalding Club, 5 vols (Aberdeen: Spalding Club, 1841-52), vol. 1, pp. 119-25.
Image references:
1) Woodcut from Grand Testament de Maistre François Villon (Paris, 1489), Wikimedia Commons.
2) 17th-century image of fairies, Wikimedia Commons.
3) Woodcut from The Children’s Example, EBBA.
4) Woodcut from Fabulae Aesopi Graecaè et Latinè (Amsterdam, 1672), p. 28, Internet Archive.
5) Detail from woodcut of feasting witches in The History of Witches and Wizards (London, 1720), p. 36, Wellcome Collection.
Mary Squires (fl. 1753-4)4See esp. Frances Timbers, ‘Mary Squires: A Case Study in Constructing Gypsy Identity in Eighteenth-Century England’, in Kim Kippen and Lori Woods (eds), Worth and Repute: Valuing Gender in Late Medieval and Early Modern Europe (Toronto, 2011). Image references:
1) Detail from etching of Mary Squires after Thomas Worlidge (1753 or after), Wellcome Collection.
2) A portrait of Elizabeth Canning, from James Caulfield, Portraits, Memoirs, and Characters, of Remarkable Persons, from the Revolution in 1688 to the End of the Reign of George II, 4 vols (London, 1819-20), vol. 3, p. 108, Internet Archive.
3) B. Cole, double portrait of Elizabeth Canning and Mary Squires, for the New Universal Magazine (1754), British Museum.
4) Detail from etching A True Draught of Eliz Canning (c. 1753), British Museum.
5) Detail from etching of Mary Squires (1753), British Museum.
This 1673 passage, most likely by the astrologer William Ramesey, attacks those who practise astrology without the proper training.5[William Ramesey?], The Character of a Quack-Astrologer (London, 1673), sigs A-B4.
A quack astrologer is a gypsy of the upper form, a wizard unfledg’d, Doctor Faustus in swadling clouts … A three-penny prophet, that undertakes the telling other folks fortunes, merely to supply the pinching necessities of his own … his cloven tongue is tipped with prophecy, he never opens his mouth, but ’tis bearded with a planet … Ask him what ’tis a clock, he answers, Sol wants three degrees of the cusp of the mid-heaven. Inquire what news from the Rhine, and he’ll tell you of Jupiter and Saturn at daggers drawing in the fiery Trigon … he neither knowes nor regards the rules of the ancients, nor the true position of the heavens, but follows his fancy, and says what he thinks will please most …
Detail from a 1785 etching showing a widow and her maid consulting a fortune-teller.6I. Taylor after R. Corbould, Wellcome Collection.
In this passage, also from 1673, the Irish author Richard Head lampoons so-called ‘gypsies’.7Richard Head, The Canting Academy (London, 1673), p. 2.
The principal professors of … gibberish or canting, I find, are a sort of people which are vulgarly called gypsies; and they do endeavour to persuade the ignorant, that they were extracted from the Egyptians, a people heretofore very famous for astronomy, natural magic, the art of divination, with many other occult arts and sciences; and these strollers (that they may seem to have their derivation from these ancient black magi) are great pretenders to fortune-telling, and to colour their impostures, they artificially discolour their faces, and with this tawny hew and tatterdemallion habit, they rove up and down the country, and with the pretension of wonderful prediction, delude a many of the younger and less intelligent people.