Meanwhile, clergymen and physicians sometimes moonlighted in magic, writing prayers for their patrons to wear as amulets in battles domestic, medical or martial. In one illustration of the mashup of sacred and superstitious, Stanmore describes a “trial by combat” between champions of the Bishop of Salisbury and the Earl of Salisbury in 1355, to win Sherborne Castle. The devious bishop sewed “prayers and charms” inside his fighter’s coat to give him an edge. The stratagem was discovered, but the cunning cleric won the castle and kept his miter.
A decade later, a Dominican friar whipped up love charms for the mistress of King Edward III, Alice Perrers. According to the spiteful chronicler Thomas Walsingham, the friar “fashioned figures made of wax for Alice, representing herself and Edward entwined and inseparable,” and gave her an enchanted memory ring to hold the king in thrall. He also brewed an aphrodisiac that Walsingham claimed “with distaste” led to “excessive, wanton sexual couplings.” Call it magic, call it chemistry, it evidently worked … six centuries before Viagra.
One limitation of this lively book, acknowledged by its author, is that it’s hard to quantify how many of the cunning folk’s bread-twirlings, spells and gewgaws produced the desired results. This is because the magicians landed in the public record only when their interventions were so useless that their customers denounced them, or so dramatic that they were tried for sorcery. Even then, the outcomes are mostly unknown, because “verdicts were normally recorded separately from the depositions and rarely survive.” Still, Stanmore indulgently asserts, for every complaint, “there are almost certainly dozens of instances where magicians genuinely helped people.”
That’s as may be … and yet, ignoring the question regardless of the efficacy of the occult do-gooders, with “Cunning Folk,” the author establishes beyond a doubt the abundance and variety of these self-styled magical Task Rabbits. The risk their patrons took in hiring them, at a time when making the wrong sort of doll could get you drawn and quartered, is remarkable.
But even today, the temptation to seek paranormal backup has not vanished. During the 2008 financial crash and the Covid crisis, Stanmore reports, psychics reporte “an upswing in demand,” and various online searches for supernatural readings surged.” Apparently, the human desire to find someone with all the answers is inexpungible; and in a tight spot, bubbles up. And perhaps not only then: About two in 10 Americans believe in spells and witches.
Or so says Siri. But is it true? You might want to ask Tabitha, instead.
CUNNING FOLK: Life in the Era of Practical Magic | By Tabitha Stanmore | Bloomsbury | 272 pp. | $29.99
