Who knew that Cornelius Vanderbilt relied on a fortune teller to guide him? All was revealed at the reading of his will.
In his opening statement over the dispute of railroad tycoon “Commodore” Cornelius Vanderbilt’s will, attorney Scott Lord proclaimed that Vanderbilt was “a believer in spiritualism” and “clairvoyance and was governed by its revelations.” Lord argued that these beliefs, among other “impairments,” rendered Vanderbilt susceptible to undue influence towards the end of his life while drafting his will. The will allocated the majority of Vanderbilt’s massive fortune to his eldest son, William Henry Vanderbilt, with comparatively modest sums going to the rest of the heirs. The claims of supernatural intervention brought the name of a well-known 19th-century fortune teller, Madame Morrow, into the contentious court battle between William and his siblings.
Under the pseudonym Q. K. Philander Doesticks, P. B., humor writer Mortimer Thomson went undercover to investigate and report on the fortune tellers of New York City’s tenements and slums. When his articles were published in book form in 1858, they catalyzed a series of arrests that both scandalized and delighted the public. But Mortimer was guarding some secrets of his own, and in many ways, his own life paralleled the lives of the women he both visited and vilified. In Mortimer and the Witches, author Marie Carter examines the lives of these marginalized fortune tellers while also detailing Mortimer Thomson’s peculiar and complicated biography.
This report by Atlas Obscuradescribes Ireland's ring forts which are associated with the supernatural. Here is an excerpt:
Deep in western Ireland’s rugged landscape, in the sleepy town of Kilmaine, two brothers decided to build a house. But first, John and Tom Mooney had to find construction materials. According to a story passed down for generations, John came upon an old, forgotten lios, a medieval ring fort made, conveniently, of suitable stones. The next day, the brothers started pulling out the bushes that grew along the fort’s walls. As they cleared the overgrowth, they thought they heard the echo of someone crying, but shrugged it off and kept working. When a local priest noticed what they were doing, he warned them to leave the fort alone—but the brothers were undeterred. As dusk gave way to evening, the brothers finally stopped their work and returned home. By morning, both John and Tom Mooney were dead. A week later, as he was walking past the fort, the priest fell and broke his leg. Locals knew the tragic events were no accident—the fairies were to blame.
In the 1930s, young Paddy Gannon contributed the Mooneys’ story to the Schools’ Collection, where more than 50,000 schoolchildren compiled folktales from parents, neighbors, and grandparents. With some 32,000 ring forts, or “fairy forts,” scattered across Ireland, it’s perhaps not surprising that many of those folktales are set in these curious structures. “It’s a very standard set of stories,” says archaeologist Matthew Stout, author of The Irish Ringfort. Many of the stories share a similar plot: Someone disrupts a fairy fort and then falls ill, loses a limb, or dies—as the Mooney brothers did. “Whether fairies turn into rabbits, or whether they’re making shoes, or there’s gold inside the fort, everything happens inside of a fort,” says Stout.
Over the span of time, abandoned ring forts became associated with the supernatural. In Gerald of Wales’s 1189 Conquest of Ireland, the first history written about the island, the medieval priest-historian recounted that when invading troops camped “in a certain old fortification” one night, a ghostly army of “spectral appearances” descended upon them; many of the soldiers fled in terror and hid in the surrounding woods and marshes.
When the forts became associated with fairies in particular is less clear. According to Irish studies scholar Patrick McCafferty of the University of Leipzig, the association of fairies and ring forts was “quite well-developed” by the 1850s, when folklorists began documenting tales that had been passed down orally for centuries.
The Irish fairies in these tales are no Tinkerbells. The wingless, human-sized mythical beings are also, for the most part, better left alone. They can be helpful, bestowing favor and good fortune. Or they can be vindictive, destroying property, abducting loved ones, or even taking lives.
John Duncan’s Riders of the Sidhe (1911) depicts highly stylized fairies in the Irish tradition. Public Domain
According to Irish folklore, fairies were once a god-like race of people known as the Tuatha Dé Danann (“people of the goddess Danu”) or the Tuath Dé (“tribe of god”). The Tuatha Dé Danann ruled ancient Ireland, were immune to aging and sickness, and possessed magical powers. They were able to control the weather and shape-shift, sometimes appearing as birds and other animals to test various heroic figures in Irish mythology.
According to myth, the ancestors of modern Irish people defeated the Tuatha Dé Danann and drove them underground, at which point they became known as the Sidhe or Aos sí. McCafferty says, “they go into another world or underworld, linked with places like Newgrange,” Ireland’s most famous prehistoric tomb, and other abandoned ancient places, including ring forts. Sidhe literally means “mound,” and so the Tuatha Dé Danann became “people of the mound.” In other tellings, the Sidhe are fallen angels or spirits of the dead.
Superstitions about fairies have saved many ring forts from destruction; it’s why thousands still dot the Irish landscape.
"Stories of the unknown come in many shapes and forms that tell of unexplainable—sometimes horrible—things. Some are about demons or evil spirits," says writer and storyteller Dan SaSuWeh Jones (Ponca).
"Others are about inanimate objects, like glowing orbs, apparitions, or even dolls that take on the breath of life. In this book, I have divided the world of American Indian ghosts into five categories: “Ghosts,” “Spirits,” “Witches,” “Monsters,” and “The Supernatural,” to give a clearer, more defined picture of what you may encounter—from an unseen noise to a hideous face to maybe something no one else has ever experienced."
The supernatural aspects of American Indians are not normally shared with the outside world. Superstition and tribal protocols keep many stories from becoming public domain. Recently, I read a book that picked up where my grandparent’s scary stories left off: of Native tricksters; shape shifters, skin-walkers and entities that thrive in the shadows of darkness. In Living Ghosts and Mysterious Monsters: Chilling American Indian Stories (Scholastic Press, 166 pp., $26.99 and $12.99) Dan SaSuWeh Jones (Ponca Nation) writer and storyteller, and Weshoyot Alvitre (Tongva) illustrator, weave ancient and contemporary scary stories from tribal groups from Canada, the United States and Mexico. Thirty-two short stories are told in chilling vivid detail and collected from the thriving tradition of telling Native ghost stories. Tribal definitions and their meanings are explained to help give the reader valuable information to preface each story.
Stories of the unknown come in many shapes and forms that tell of unexplainable—sometimes horrible—things.
In a time when the internet, social media and cell phones were not the principal means of communication, Native people looked forward to sharing good stories. Winter was especially chosen as the primary storytelling season as tribal communal groups were not traveling and had to remain inside for long periods during inclement weather.
In the Western Hemisphere trading stories is an integral part of Native culture, a norm that is still carried on by modern Native peoples. At the end of this book, the writer gives credit in detail of how each of his stories was obtained. As a Native writer this consideration made me feel good that these stories were obtained and are being passed on “in a good way.” With this being said … wait until nightfall, pick up the book and prepare to enter the world of Native ghosts and the supernatural.
There are so many excellent books for those of us who are interested in New Age, Occult and all related subjects. One recent example is Witchcraft. The Library of Esoterica by Jessica Hundley
Here is a rave review:
Initiating readers in the fascinating and complex history of witchcraft, from the goddess mythologies of ancient cultures to the contemporary embrace of the craft by modern artists and activists, this expansive tome conjures up a breathtaking overview of an age-old tradition. Rooted in legend, folklore, and myth, the archetype of the witch has evolved from the tales of Odysseus and Circe, the Celtic seductress Cerridwen, and the myth of Hecate, fierce ruler of the moonlit night. In Witchcraft we survey her many incarnations since, as she shape-shifts through the centuries, alternately transforming into mother, nymph, and crone—seductress and destroyer.
Edited by Jessica Hundley, and co-edited by author, scholar, and practitioner Pam Grossman, this enthralling visual chronicle is the first of its kind, a deep dive into the complex symbologies behind witchcraft traditions, as explored through the history of art itself. The witch has played muse to great artists throughout time, from the dark seductions of Francisco José de Goya and Albrecht Dürer to the elegant paean to the magickal feminine as re-imagined by the Surrealist circle of Remedios Varo, Leonora Carrington, and Leonor Fini. The witch has spellbound through folktales and dramatic literature as well, from the poison apples of The Brothers Grimm, to the Weird Sisters gathered at their black cauldron in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, to L. Frank Baum’s iconic Wicked Witch of the West, cackling over the fate of Dorothy.
Throughout this entrancing visual voyage, we’ll also bear witness to the witch as she endures persecution and evolves into empowerment, a contemporary symbol of bold defiance and potent nonconformity. Featuring enlightening essays by modern practitioners like Kristen J. Sollée and Judika Illes, as well interviews with authors and scholars such as Madeline Miller and Juliet Diaz, Witchcraft includes a vast range of cultural traditions that embrace magick as spiritual exploration and creative catharsis.
There are so many excellent books for those of us who are interested in New Age, Occult and all related subjects. One recent example is Gothic: An Illustrated History by Roger Luckhurst.
Here is a rave review:
A richly illustrated history of the Gothic across a wide range of media, including architecture, literature, and film
The word Gothic conjures associations with the dark and melancholy, the weird and feared, and haunted places and people. In Gothic, Roger Luckhurst offers readers an unprecedented look at the ways this uncanny style has manifested itself through architecture, literature, film, art, video games, and more. From the works of Victor Hugo and E. T. A. Hoffmann to Southern Gothic, ancient folklore, and classic horror movies, Luckhurst explores how an aesthetic that began in the margins has been reinvented through the centuries to become part of mainstream global culture.
Organizing his wide-ranging history by theme, Luckhurst begins with Gothic architecture and form, including such elements as the arch, the house, and ruins. He considers how the Gothic is depicted in rural and urban settings, as well as in the wilderness and borderlands. And he delves into Gothic traditions and settings around the world, from the sublime Alps and Australian outback to the Arctic wasteland, from the dark folkloric realm of the forest to the postindustrial landscapes of abandoned hospitals and asylums, and then beyond the bounds of the planet to unknowable cosmic horror. Luckhurst investigates the monsters that mirror ourselves and society, and demonstrates that as the Gothic has traveled across the globe and through time, it has morphed according to the shape of our changing fears and anxieties.
Filled with a wealth of color illustrations, Gothic will enthrall anyone yearning to lift the veil on our fascination with the eerie, morbid, and supernatural.
