CUNNING-FOLK AND THEIR CURES

There are many tales about the uncanny cures performed by cunning-folk in Cornwall, many of which worked by the idea of sympathies between objects. In the 1920s William Paynter (1901-1976) related the story of a farmer near Callington who had herds that were diseased, and was told by 'the great White-Witch at Plymouth' to take the heart from a culled animal, pierce it with pins, and burn it in one of his fields at midnight. The idea was that as the heart shrivelled and burned, so would the disease lessen in the farmer's flocks. At the very least the slaying of a diseased animal might help check the spread of the disease. People placed great store in the power of conjuror's charms to protect them from ill-wishing, and there are several accounts of people being miraculously cured of their afflictions after a visit to a conjuror. Today their cures would doubtless be explained as psychosomatic, where people's belief in the power of the charm made them well again. That cunning-folk made a living for 400 years or more indicates that there was certainly something in it.

Most conjurors started practicing when they were in their 20s and 30s, by offering a limited service to begin with, such as in fortune telling, only to expand their repertoire as their reputations developed. Thomasine Blight (1793-1856), also known as 'Tammy Blee,' began her practice around Redruth in the 1820s when she was in her early 30s and she went on to become Cornwall's greatest conjuror. For the most part they worked on a part-time basis, in tandem with their regular employment. In their later years some conjurors became so well known, and found their trade in the occult arts sufficiently lucrative to practice full-time. James Thomas (1814-1874), who was married for a time to Thomasine Blight, spent his early working life as miner and engine-driver, but became a full-time conjuror during the last ten years or so of his life. Conjurors were drawn chiefly from the mining and artisan communities and it appears that no special qualifications were necessarily needed to become one, though the ability to read was useful and often set a conjuror apart from his unlettered clients. As cunning-folk drew most of their charms from magic books, they often had these open in their consulting rooms to impress their clients.

The word 'conjuror' tends to bring to mind images of stage magic and sleight of hand, though when applied to cunning-folk the word preserves an older meaning of summoning or calling spirits. Conjurors were held to be skilled at such arts, using books of angelic magic to summon spirits or the souls of the dead. Some conjurors are known to have practised conjuration for the benefit of clients. For example, Thomasine Blight summoned the ghost of a woman from Sithney one night to find out where a client's money had disappeared. Apparently Blight took the client to the woman's graveside in Sithney churchyard at the hour of midnight, and began her incantations by casting a protective circle around them. In due course a pale, shrouded figure manifested itself among the headstones, visible only in the pale moonlight, and began to move towards the pair. The apparition drew close to Blight's client and asked why its rest had been disturbed and threatened to haunt the young man for the rest of his days. It was when the ghost laid its hand on the man's shoulder that he reacted, and he punched the apparition to the ground. The initial confusion at flooring a ghost so easily was resolved when Blight's husband James Thomas got out of the shroud, groaning in pain and stinking of alcohol.

While many conjurors were undoubtedly popular, they were not universally liked, and many found themselves in court accused of fraud. Unluckiest of all the Cornish conjurors when it came to the law was William Rapson Oates, better known as 'Jimmy the Witch,' who spent the greater part of his adult life in gaol. In 1894 he found himself before an Assize judge, indicted 'with obtaining 8s from Mary Sedgeman by false pretences at Lelant; and also with pretending to exercise witchcraft and sorcery.' In this case Oates had obtained money from Sedgeman with the promise to make her daughter well, by 'aid of the stars and planets,' which he failed to do. Oates was found guilty and served seven months with hard labour.