Cunning Folk and Conjurors: Folk Magic in Colonial Virginia

The use of folk magic may seem foreign and exotic to many of us in the 21st century. If we look closer, though, it is apparent that some modern Americans still practice it today – even if they don’t realize it. Have you ever hunted for a four-leaf clover? Have you ever hung a horseshoe over your door? If so, you’re participating in a kind of folk magic.

Folk magic is (and was) thought to be a way to influence forces, seen and unseen, for good or for ill. It is sometimes referred to as “low” magic, not because it was seen as evil, but because it was passed down generation to generation rather than learned from books or formal tutors. “High” magic has its own fascinating history, but this blog post focuses on the everyday magic that 18th century Virginians, both black and white, practiced. Hoping to ward off evil and bring peace, prosperity, and abundance into their homes, some of these early Americans used magical means to their ends.

Europeans and Africans in British North America brought with them the spiritual, religious, and magical traditions of their homelands. The blending of these traditions became the bedrock for future iterations of American folk magic. One modern archaeologist says that this blending process makes it hard to tell exactly who was using what folk tradition while creating some of the material culture of folk magic; it is not always clear from the archaeological record exactly who made an object and what that object’s intended purpose was.[1]

One of the things that may have contributed to the cross-cultural blending is the similarities between English and African folk magic traditions.  Both groups recognized that there were some people who were “set apart” from the rest of the group.  These individuals were believed to possess special powers that made them respected, feared, or both. African and English traditions also shared a belief in magical objects, even everyday objects, that could be imbued with power. And lastly, both groups believed in the power of burying magical objects for protection – or for malice.

People thought talented in the magical arts were known as “cunning folk” in the English/English-American tradition and as “conjurors” in the African/African-American tradition. Cunning folk were not witches, who were thought to inhabit the fringes of society, but rather “practitioners of magic who healed the sick and the bewitched, who told fortunes, identified thieves, [and] induced love.”[2] This description of cunning folk is very similar to W.E.B. Du Bois’s definition of the conjuror, “the healer of the sick, the interpreter of the Unknown, the comforter of the sorrowing, the supernatural avenger of wrong . . .”[3]

The rest of Du Bois’s quote, however, highlights an essential difference between white cunning folk and the enslaved conjuror. The conjuror was also “. . . the one who rudely but picturesquely expressed the longing, disappointment, and resentment of a stolen and oppressed people.”[4] Despite their many similarities, enslaved conjurors and cunning folk operated in very different realities. In Du Bois’s estimation, the conjuror did more than just take care of the physical and spiritual needs of the enslaved; he or she took on the weight of slavery itself.

Both conjurors and cunning folk created magical charms and charged objects with magical meaning. At George Washington’s Ferry Farm, we found an excellent example of an object charged with meaning. A carnelian bead excavated on the property may indicate that a powerful conjuror might have lived here during the Washington’s time. This bead is similar to two found in Barbados and Archaeologist Jerome Handler asserts that these carnelian beads were the product of Cambay, India and were indications of the status of the person with whom they were buried.[5] Dave Muraca, director of archaeology at Ferry Farm, describes “all three beads” as “generally reddish-orange color” with “tapered ends and cylindrical shapes. Each one has 8 longitudinal facets and 4 beveled facets at each end. The main difference between the Washington site bead and the Barbadian beads is size, with the Barbadian beads being almost twice as long as the one recovered at the Washington farm.”[6]

carnelian-bead-01

Multiple views of the Carnelian bead excavated at George Washington’s Ferry Farm.

 

Cunning folk also made objects with magical meaning. Written charms, or amulets, were popular since they were easy to make and could be worn on the body. These charms often served as protection for people and livestock against witches’ attacks. An example of these charms can be found in Colonial Williamsburg’s Special Collections. This small piece of paper, dating to about 1700, promised to protect the wearer from “any mannor [sic] of Witchcraft or Evle [sic] spirit.” The amulet invokes the power of faith and the intervention of Jesus Christ on behalf of the afflicted woman. It closes with “amen, amen, amen,” and “fiat, fiat, fiat;” “fiat” being the Latin translation of ‘amen.” “Fiat” and “amen” had been used together since the 2nd century, particularly when the prayer it ended was one of condemnation.[7]

SCMS2004.14; Witchcraft Amulet; 18th c. ?

Witchcraft amulet, circa 18th century.  Credit: Special Collections, John D. Rockefeller,  Jr. Library, The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation

It was not uncommon for black and white practitioners of magic, to bury magical objects for protection. The nature of these objects may have been different, but the intent was the same – warding off evil and restoring peace to the household. At Ferry Farm, archaeologists have discovered whole oysters deliberately buried in the stone-lined cellar of the Washington house. The act of burying the oysters, which were seen as magical objects in the African/African American community, was likely an effort to protect the home. They were often used in burial rituals and were associated with death and the afterlife; an association that makes the oyster shells found at Ferry Farm all the more intriguing.

whole-oyster-shells-1

Whole oyster shell excavated from the Washington house cellar at Ferry Farm.

English/English-Americans also buried objects for protection, but some of the objects they buried were man-made rather than a product of the natural world. Witches bottles, often glass bottles filled with pins, nails, and even human urine, were designed to cure the afflicted of his or her bewitchment. A witch bottle found near in Virginia Beach, Virginia, known as the Great Neck witch bottle, dates to 1690-1750. Archaeologist M. Chris Manning describes it as being, “[a] small, narrow, light green glass medicine vial was found buried in an inverted [upside-down] position” containing 25 brass pins and 3 iron nails. It may have also contained the urine of the bewitched at some point.[8]   These bottles were designed to hurt witches; their pins and needles were thought to injure those who placed malevolent spells on the innocent. In both the African/African-American and the English/English-American tradition, these buried objects were tasked with banishing evil forces in an effort to bring in positivity and peace to the household.

These are just a few examples of the similarities between the African and the English folk magic traditions. There are significant differences, in part because “magic” was part of African cosmology, meaning religion and magic were tied together, sometimes to the point where it’s hard to tell where one ended and the other began. This is different from the English tradition, where religion and folk magic were seen as separate, at least officially. Religious and secular authority figures in colonial America condemned the use of folk magic, but this did little to stem the tide of magic’s popularity.

The next time you pick up a lucky penny or even cross your fingers, remember that you are participating in a tradition older than America itself. While we may not make witches bottles or bury oyster shells anymore, there are plenty of instances where we seek luck, protection, love, and other good vibes through essentially “magical” means.

Kelly Arehart
Manager of Interpretation & Visitor Services

[1] Christopher C. Fennell, “Conjuring Boundaries: Inferring Past Identities from Religious Artifacts,” International Journal of Historical Archaeology, Vol. 4, No. 4, pp.284.

[2] Owen Davies. Popular Magic: Cunning Folk in English History, (London: Continuum), 2007, p. VII.

[3] W.E.B. Du Bois, Souls of Black Folk, Essays and Sketches, (Chicago: A.C. McClurg & Co.), 1903, 211.

[4] Ibid. https://www.marinersmuseum.org/sites/micro/captivepassage/arrival/arr019.html Accessed 17 October 2016.

[5] Jerome S. Handler, “An African-Type Healer/Diviner and His Grave Goods: A Burial from a Plantation Slave Cemetery in Barbados, West Indies,” International Journal of Historical Archaeology, Vol. 1, No.1, (June 1997), 91-130.

[6] David Muraca, “Murder and Magic at the Washington Farm,” George Washington Foundation, Fredericksburg, VA, unpublished report, 9.

[7] “amen amen, fiat fiat: theological, liturgical, bureaucratic”  Douglass Galbi, accessed October 24, 2016, http://www.purplemotes.net/2014/06/01/amen-amen-fiat-fiat/

[8] M. Chris Manning, “Homemade Magic: Concealed Deposits in Architectural Contexts in the Eastern United States,” Master’s Thesis, Ball State, 2012, 114.

Bartmann Bottle: The Coolest Thing We’ve Ever Found

We excavate hundreds of artifacts every day during the field season at George Washington’s Ferry Farm and occasionally one or two really stand out.  For me, the most interesting artifacts uncovered during the past few years are fragments of a Bartmann Jug.  The combination of an animated human face and fascinating symbolism makes this particular ceramic vessel unique among the hundreds of other vessels excavated from our archaeological site.  Just imagine the excavator’s surprise when the intense bearded face emerges as the dirt gets brushed off. That intense face and the story behind it make this object, in my view, the coolest thing we’ve ever found.

Bartmann Bottle (1)

The bottle itself would have had a solid sturdy base and a round, bulbous body with a cylindrical mouth.  It may have had a pewter lid, but these rarely survive archaeologically.  Pewter was fairly valuable and would have been melted down and reused after the vessel was broken, rather than discarded with the rest of it.  The bottle was medium sized, holding approximately a liter of low-alcohol beverage such as beer or cider.  The face of the bottle itself features a raised applied decoration known as a sprig mold, which is made by pressing wet clay into a mold, letting it dry to a point where it could be peeled out of the mold, and then attaching it to the unfired bottle.

Establishing when the bottle was actually manufactured can be challenging for these vessels.  They were produced in Germany between 1550 and 1770.  The British Navigation Acts made foreign imports increasingly rare in the colonies after the early 18th century.  Knowing that the make-up of the ceramic body and glaze is German lets up narrow down the dates for this bottle to the early years of the 18th century.  It is decidedly part of the pre-Washington era material culture here are Ferry Farm.

Bartmann Bottle (3)

When looking at these bottles with their somewhat grotesque faces, one can’t help but wonder why people decorated their drinking vessels this way for some two hundred years?  What did it mean to their culture?

These Bartmann Bottles were not just made in Germany. They were also shaped by German culture.  Their molded faces were sometimes elaborate and detailed and sometimes crudely executed. They were always male and always sported a large bushy beard.  This references German folklore’s “wild man of the woods.”  He was thought to live just beyond the bounds of civilization and run feral in the wilderness, living almost like an animal.  Perhaps rather appropriate to adorn a container of alcohol with?  However, these bottles were also widely exported. When they were brought to England, they became divorced from this folklore context.  Subsequently, the English created their own story about what the face on these Bartmann Bottles meant.

Bartmann Bottle (2)

In England around 1634, the bottles began to be called Bellarmines after Cardinal Robert Bellarmine.  Superficially, the wild face was said to resemble him. On a deeper level, the name was used as a way to mock the Catholic Church and its wider anti-protestant movement that Cardinal Bellarmine headlined.  This is following the monumental split of England from papal control and its moves farther towards Protestantism.   The colonists who brought this bottle to the new world thought of themselves as English so, if they gave any thought to the grimacing man who adorned their bottle of beer, they would have likely seen the figure as Bellarmine.

This fascinating and drastic change in meaning as the object moves from culture to culture combined with the striking human features is what makes it, in my view, the coolest thing we’ve ever found.

Lauren Jones, Archaeologist
Archaeology Lab Technician