You might not think you believe in magic, but when you blow out a birthday candle, toss a penny in a fountain, wear your lucky socks to the big game, or scatter the seeds of a dandelion with an intentional breath—you are engaging in rituals that echo ancient beliefs about the power of intention and the unseen forces at play in our lives. In addition to these everyday acts, divinatory practices, charms, and community rituals have woven magic into the fabric of our institutions for thousands of years.
According to Dr. Tabitha Stanmore, a specialist in medieval and Early Modern magic, a surprising amount of magical beliefs and practices were thriving in English society alongside the Christian faith in Shakespeare's time. Unfortunately, tracing the ancient lineages of these magical belief systems is complicated by the mass destruction of pagan texts and artifacts following Roman conquest. New York Times writer Bettany Hughes reminds readers that "books were systematically burned" during the centuries of Christian expansion. However, like colonized regions all over the world, nature-based spirituality and magical practices remained embedded in European culture long after the shift to Christianity.
This might seem surprising given England’s fondness for hunting and killing witches from the 15th to the 18th century (although, according to Statista, witch hunts were far more rampant in other parts of the continent). However, recent scholarship has revealed that magic played a more complex and integral role in Early Modern English culture than previously understood. Examining occult practices in Shakespeare’s time and the use of magic in his plays helps us understand how the Bard shaped attitudes towards esoteric beliefs, and allows us to connect with our own sense of magic by engaging with his work.
Magic and the Occult in Early Modern England
Service Magic vs. Witches
Many people today base their understanding of how magic was viewed in the Early Modern period on depictions of religiously motivated witch hunts. However, magical practices served a vital and cohesive function during this time period. In Cunning Folk: Life in the Era of Practical Magic (2024), Dr. Stanmore shows through historical records that most people in Early Modern England believed in magic as one way to solve everyday problems. It was common to purchase a charm to find lost items, seek divinatory advice, and commission love spells. Stanmore differentiates between witchcraft and “cunning magic,” pointing out that the cunning folk who were skilled in this kind of practical magic were considered valuable service providers in their communities.
Most cunning folk were associated with angelic forces, while witches were seen as collaborating with the devil to cause harm. Stanmore explains, “Some cunning folk were also priests, and some, occasionally, were executed as witches. Many would live relatively quiet lives and perform magic for their neighbors. What they had in common was an ability to manipulate the world in a way that most mortals could not–and a willingness to sell that skill” (11). This highlights the precarious balance between community service and the threat of persecution. The fact that most cunning folk were not charged with witchcraft suggests there was something beyond the practice of magic that earned someone the title of “witch.” A 2018 exhibit at the University of Alabama illustrates how charges of witchcraft in Early Modern England often targeted women whose actions threatened the establishment, such as healers, midwives, or *gasp* unmarried cat owners. It seems that authorities were more concerned with stifling community power than with magic itself. In Caliban and the Witch (2004), scholar and feminist activist Silvia Federici writes, “With the persecution of the folk healer, women were expropriated from a patrimony of empirical knowledge, regarding herbs and healing remedies, that they had accumulated from generation to generation” (201). Charges of witchcraft systematically stripped women of their medicinal knowledge, while magicians were permitted to practice as long as they adhered to social norms.
Esoteric Arts & Scholars of the Occult
In addition to practical magic, England also boasted serious scholars of the occult arts during the Early Modern period. These more elite practitioners tended to be employed by the aristocracy, charging very high rates for their knowledge and skills. A recent Folger blog post on alchemy in Elizabethan England by Jennifer Rampling highlights the legendary work of John Dee, the Queen’s personal astrologer. Rampling writes that Dee “explored both natural and occult philosophy over the course of a varied, polymathic career,” and “attempt[ed] to unify alchemy, astrology, and metaphysics.” A subject of much historical controversy, Dee engaged in various magical arts, such as divination, angelic mediumship, and the quest for the Philosopher’s Stone. In The Occult Philosophy in the Elizabethan Age (1979), Frances Yates, prolific historian of Renaissance esotericism, reconciles Dee’s identity as a “conjurer” with his “earnest claim to be a devout Christian,” by defining him as a Christian-Cabalist who subscribed to a philosophy “developed in the renaissance occult tradition” (92).
In So Potent Art: The Magic of Shakespeare (2021), Emily Carding, a practicing Wiccan who holds an MFA in Staging Shakespeare, also addresses how people of the Early Modern period could hold seemingly oppositional worldviews. “Knowledge of the power and symbolism of the elements, alchemy, and the planets was still prevalent,” she writes, “as was a system of belief and practice known as Hermeticism, the chief principle of which was the interconnection of all things…It was also a time of flux, when [the esoteric] was beginning to be dismissed and challenged by reactionary humanist thought” (2). The concept of merging and shifting ideas around religion and spirituality is a persistent theme at this time, essential to understanding the moment in history that birthed the most influential writer in the English language.
Frances Yates notes, “Shakespeare was writing his plays in, roughly, the twenty years covered by the last decade of the sixteenth century and the first of the seventeenth. These were the years during which, in Europe, Renaissance Neoplatonism and its associated occultisms were being heavily attacked” (172). Henry Cornelius Agrippa, writer of the Three Books of Occult Philosophy, and Giordano Bruno, a prolific thinker who “preached a mission of universal Hermetic reform,” were among influential magical philosophers of this time, all of whom experienced impressive power and tragic ends as the tides began to shift against mysticism. Far ahead of his time in scientific and spiritual thinking, Bruno theorized that other suns existed in the universe and that they might warm the planets of distant lifeforms. He was burned at the stake in 1600.
The “Faerie Queene” Elizabeth
More proof of conflicting ideologies surrounding magical practices in the Elizabethan period can be found by taking a closer look at the Queen herself. Elizabeth I’s spirituality has long been the source of scholarly debate. She restored England to Protestantism when she took the throne, but held fast to many Catholic symbols and, according to ElizabethI.org was considered “remarkably tolerant for the age in which she lived.” Through her relationship with John Dee and other esoteric thinkers of the time, we can infer that she trusted
astrology, had a special interest in the emerging science of alchemy, and engaged in some level of magical knowledge-seeking. Emily Carding writes, “It’s thought [the Queen] may have even used magical assistance to conjure the storms that aided the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588” (15). Ironically, it was Queen Elizabeth who passed “An Act Against Conjurations Enchantments and Witchcrafts” in 1562, which led to the death of many accused witches, and which you can view in its original form here.
The Queen’s role in magic and occultism of the Elizabethan period is also defined by her cultural deification. Carding notes, “She carefully crafted an image and atmosphere around herself that transcended mortal limits and became an icon of archetypal feminine beauty, intelligence, and strength” (15). The Faerie Queene, an epic poem by Edmund Spenser, further mythologizes the queen by casting her as a goddess and connecting her with Arthurian legend. There have been many varying perspectives on Spenser’s intentions, but for scholars of the occult, the poem is proof of Spenser’s mystic philosophies. Numerological patterns in the text may suggest that Spenser was influenced by Christian-Cabalist and Platonist Francesco Giorgi. Yates describes Spenser as being in the “Dee circle” (referring to magician John Dee) where he would have likely encountered Giorgi’s work, and argues that Spenser was part of the movement towards a worldwide Hermetic reform, “with Queen Elizabeth I in the leading role” (112).
Astrology
Perhaps the most prolific magical practice in the Elizabethan era, astrology is one of the three strands of Hermetic philosophy and points to the interconnection of all things. “Although we tend to think of it as semi-magical today,” Tabitha Stanmore writes, “in the medieval and early modern periods astrology was treated as a science” (116). While most people today could tell you their sun sign and what it might indicate about their personality, truly understanding the planets and their energies through this framework can take years of study. Emily Carding advocates for a deeper understanding of astrology to help us interpret and perform Shakespeare, saying, “Shakespeare was writing at a time when the language of the planets, elements, and alchemical transformation was readily understood by most people with a standard level of education. These philosophies may not be so well known now amongst the general populace, save for the enduring popularity of daily horoscope, but the wisdom remains for those who seek it and rewards us with a deep understanding of the works, ourselves, and the world around us” (27).
Astrology was practiced by scholarly conjurers and cunning folk alike, the skill being much like a common language that may require hiring a translator if a person lacked fluency and the stakes were high. Shakespeare was well-versed in the language of the stars, and may have used planetary archetypes to inform his characterization–an exercise that Carding suggests as an invaluable tool for actors preparing to perform in a Shakespearean play (36). Frances Yates argues that knowledge of astrology is key to understanding the “astral themes” of The Faerie Queene and Spenser’s Hermetic influence (117). While astrology could be placed under the umbrella of cunning magic, the esoteric arts, or the larger philosophy of Hermeticism, it deserves its own shoutout when it comes to noticing and appreciating the magic in Shakespeare’s plays.
Magic in Shakespeare’s Plays
Anyone with even a bit of knowledge about Shakespeare can tell you that the Bard enjoyed the use of magic as a storytelling device. Frances Yates writes, “The [Elizabethan world] was a world of spirits, good and bad, fairies, demons, witches, ghosts, conjurers…the greatest plays of the greatest poet of the age are suffused in the atmospheres of the occult” (191). From the prophecies of Julius Caesar’s soothsayer and Macbeth’s Weird Sisters, to the fairies and love potions of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Shakespeare used obvious elements of magic throughout his plays. He also packed his language with references to astrology and wrote powerful invocations to the gods and the elements that would put many modern witches to shame. Although Shakespeare's opinions on esoteric philosophies remain unclear, Emily Carding notes he had access to sources rich in magical knowledge including Agrippa’s Three Books of Occult Philosophy, Ovid, The Chaldean Oracles, and the Hermetica (5). Additionally, the theme of an interconnected universe, prevalent in many of Shakespeare’s works, leads Carding to suggest that Shakespeare may have subscribed to a mystical Hermetic worldview. While there are countless instances of magic throughout Shakespeare’s works, here we will look at three of the most popular examples.
The Witches of Macbeth
The witches of Macbeth have certainly contributed to the modern-day archetype of the evil and disfigured hag, but interestingly, the play only uses the word “witch” once, when one of the sisters describes being insulted by a sailor’s wife. However, their prophetic abilities and consultations with Hecate, the Greek goddess of witchcraft, do suggest a witchy disposition. It is significant to note that the witches of Macbeth appear as a triad, a reflection of the many Triple Goddess archetypes that appear in mythology (including _-_The_Witches_in_%27Macbeth%27_-_P350_-_The_Wallace_Collection.jpg)
Hecate, who is often depicted as a Triple Goddess associated with the phases of the moon). Emily Carding discusses the Weird Sisters’ connection to fairy lore, pointing out that Holinshed’s Chronicles, Shakespeare’s source for the story of Macbeth, refers to the sisters as “fairies or nymphs.” She adds, “Many fairy queens throughout myth and romance are depicted as triple-formed, triple-aspected, or appearing in threes” (167). While Shakespeare may have turned these fae folk into much spookier entities, they do not directly harm anyone or take any violent action in the play, only offering information and visions for the main characters to do with what they wish. It is these characters' choices and Macbeth’s reckless ambition that ultimately lead to the tragic consequences of the play.
In Act 4 of the play, the sisters stir some seemingly sinister ingredients into a large cauldron speaking these famous words as they conjure: “Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble…By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.” Like so much of Shakespeare’s work, this image has been imprinted in our collective consciousness as synonymous with the very definition of “witch,” showing up in Halloween decorations, Olsen twin movies of the 90s, cartoons in the New Yorker, and ill-informed interview questions aimed at modern witches who wish to cast the stereotype aside. (Click here to see modern witch Amanda Yates Garcia being asked about using “eye of newt” in an interview about magical political resistance.)* While modern portrayals often depict Macbeth’s witches as evil and untrustworthy, Carding asserts that Shakespeare’s intended to present their power as “real and worthy of respect" (179).
*Although spooky sounding, “eye of newt” was a folk term for mustard seed
The Fairies of A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Fairies are a perfect example of how ancient European belief systems have managed to survive Christianization. Fairies are considered nature spirits, capable of helping or harming humans, and there are still plenty of people in parts of Western Europe, as well as neopagans all over the world, who honor and respect the fairy folk as very real and sacred land entities. In Shakespeare’s day, fairy lore was experiencing a surge in popularity, in part due to the success of The Faerie Queene epic. Shakespeare wrote A Midsummer Night’s Dream a few years after the first Faerie Queene book was published, but scholars disagree on whether he was simply following the trend or attempting to cosign Spenser’s alleged political and philosophical goals. Either way, Emily Carding argues that to appreciate Midsummer fully, we must recognize its “deeply mythic and esoteric undercurrent” (141). Carding points out that, despite the play being a comedy with plenty of foolish antics and hilarity, Shakespeare chooses to treat the fairy world “with affection, reverence, and respect” (143).
In addition to the obvious magical setting of Midsummer, Carding breaks down several theories regarding the subtext of the play’s characters and Shakespeare’s possible source material. While the name Titania, the queen of the fairies, was likely taken from Ovid’s Metamorphosis, it refers to the “goddesses who are born of the pre-Olympian primal forces, the Titans,” and connects Titania to the goddess Diana “a granddaughter of the Titans, who is mentioned frequently in Shakespeare’s plays.” While Oberon, Titania’s male counterpart, may have taken his name from a French romance, Carding points out that Shakespeare would have likely had access to popular grimoires, or spell books, of his day, several of which feature a spirit entity named “Oberion” or “Oberyon” (145). The neopagan publisher LLewellyn published The Book of Oberon in 2015, which features an incredible compilation of grimoire material found in the Folger Shakespeare Library, sourced from the time period shortly before Shakespeare wrote Midsummer. Carding admits that we cannot say for certain whether Shakespeare pulled from grimoires like these to inform his writing, but it is certainly fun to theorize about!
The Sorcerer of The Tempest
In The Tempest, the last and arguably most magical of Shakespeare’s plays, the sorcerer Prospero invokes the spirits of the land with language that Emily Carding suggests is “directly inspired by Medea’s invocation to Hecate from Ovid’s Metamorphoses” (205). You can read Prospero’s powerful invocation here. Frances Yates dedicates an entire chapter to Prospero, arguing that he is modeled after the magician John Dee and crafted to empower magical thinking. The Tempest was Shakespeare’s final play, first performed in
the era following Queen Elizabeth I’s death. Shakespeare may have intended it as a reflection of his hope for a revival of the magic associated with the Elizabethan era, despite the rise of thinkers and artists that dismissed and demonized mysticism in the years following the Queen’s passing (191).
Magical themes in The Tempest, particularly through characters like Prospero, the enslaved Caliban, and Caliban’s mother Sycorax—who is described as “one so strong that could control the moon”—invite extensive speculation about Shakespeare’s views on magic and the occult. Scholars frequently analyze The Tempest for hidden messages, interpreting it as Shakespeare's farewell to his craft. Some even argue it serves as an invitation to embrace the magic of the universe. Whether Shakespeare used magic merely as a creative device or genuinely believed deeply in occult philosophies, Frances Yates emphasizes the significance of conveying this final message through a powerful sorcerer. She concludes, “Though Shakespeare never wielded a wand, nor thought of himself as a magus, he is a magician, master of the spell-binding use of words, of poetry as magic. This was the art on which he was supreme and which Prospero symbolizes” (191).
Sources
Carding, Emily. So Potent Art: The Magic of Shakespeare. Llewellyn Publishing, 2021.
Federici, Silvia. Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body, and Primitive Accumulation. Autonomedia, 2004.
Stanmore, Tabitha. Cunning Folk: Life in the Era of Practical Magic. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2024.
Yates, Frances. The Occult Philosophy in the Elizabethan Age. Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1979.
