The concerns of daily life prompted early modern people to seek reassurance in fate, stars, and astrologers.
In a world fraught with uncertainties, early modern Europeans turned to astrology and divination to address their deepest anxieties. From love and health to politics and careers, the stars became an enduring source of hope, guidance, and even humour.
One emblematic piece of this era’s fascination with fate was the Libro de la ventura (Book of Fortune), first published in 1482. This Renaissance bestseller was a lively parlour game that transformed profound questions into moments of entertainment. Players would select a question – Will my journey go well? Does my spouse truly love me? – roll three dice, and navigate the book for answers. While many responses were laced with playful humour, such as advising a cheated wife to retaliate in kind, the game’s popularity stemmed from its ability to address real concerns in an accessible manner. The allure of the Libro lay in its mix of levity and gravity, creating a safe space for people to confront their worries.
However, the pursuit of answers wasn’t confined to parlour games. Astrology played a vital role in providing reassurance and clarity during an era when the Church condemned such practices, and elite culture began sidelining them. Despite scepticism from physicians and academics, practitioners like Simon Forman and Richard Napier were inundated with clients. Between them, they documented nearly 80,000 horoscopic consultations, offering an unparalleled glimpse into the fears of early modern society.
Much like the Libro de la ventura, love dominated many consultations. For some, the stakes were high. Elizabeth Nichols, Napier’s servant, sought advice in 1600 about whether her suitor John Chivoll was the right match. Pressured by her family, Elizabeth was deeply unsettled. Napier recorded a fortunate resolution: the match fell through because Elizabeth opposed it. Others were plagued by prolonged uncertainty. Edward Osborn, for example, spent two years asking whether his affections would be returned. More obsessively, Barrington Mullens consulted Forman a dozen times in one year, vacillating between potential matches and hoping for clarity.
Friendships and family relationships were another significant source of anxiety. People questioned the trustworthiness of friends, sought reconciliation after disputes, and agonised over absent loved ones. Some fears bordered on paranoia, such as William Bouth, who in 1618 worried about a malicious enemy intent on harming him. Mothers often consulted astrologers about their children’s wellbeing, while children fretted over parents travelling or at war.
Unsurprisingly, career worries also featured prominently. Margaret Worsape sought guidance on whether to move her trade from London to the countryside, while William Tillye debated changing professions at his mother’s urging. Employers asked about the reliability of potential hires, and employees pondered the possibility of promotions.
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In addition to personal dilemmas, wider societal concerns loomed large. Clients worried about politics, invasions, plagues, and their own mortality. Questions about the afterlife and mental health were common, underscoring the universality of existential fears.
These anxieties, meticulously recorded by Forman and Napier, reveal how closely early modern concerns mirror our own. While some questions, like fears of witchcraft, seem alien today, others remain timeless: Are better days ahead? Will I find love? Should I take that risk?
Astrology’s decline in European society began in the 17th century as universities dropped it from their curricula and other professions took its place. Therapists, career advisers, and insurance agents now address many of the same fears that astrologers once did. Yet astrology never disappeared entirely. Its enduring appeal lies in the timelessness of the questions it seeks to answer.
Whether through dice rolls in the Libro de la ventura or a consultation with an astrologer, early modern people sought to make sense of their uncertainties. In doing so, they remind us that while the methods of seeking reassurance may evolve, the hopes and fears driving those questions remain profoundly human.
