Prognostications were viewed with suspicion in
England. Prior to the early sixteenth century, those published in the country
tended to be translation of foreign prognostications, possibly because of the
dim view of prophecy taken by the Church. Pope Innocent VIII issued a Papal
Bull Summis Desiderantes Affectibus (Desiring with Supreme Emotion) in
1484, which was instrumental in the Inquisition’s suppression of witchcraft in
Europe. In 1542, Henry VIII’s Witchcraft Act defined witchcraft as a felony,
punishable by death, and removed the right of Benefit of Clergy, whereby anyone
convicted could be spared hanging if they were able to read verses from the
Bible.
George Kingsley - An Ephemeris, or an Astronomical State of the Heavens - 1723 |
In such an atmosphere, it is not unsurprising that would-be
prognosticators cautiously kept their heads below the parapet; the first
printed English Almanack and Prognostication, by Andrew Boorde, acknowledged in
the preface that prognosticating was against the laws of both God and the
realm. Henry’s statute was repealed by his son, Edward VI, in 1547, and another
Witchcraft Act, of 1562, issued by Elizabeth I, was much more specific in its
definitions of what constituted witchcraft, sorcery and divination.
Iohannes Regiomontanus - Astronomical Diagram for June 1483 |
English
prognosticators tended to issue quite mild prophecies, often regarding the
weather and the diseases that might follow its effects, although they did get a
little more voluble when eclipses and comets occurred, whereas their European
counterparts were much more imaginative in their forebodings of death and
disaster. From around 1540, the separate calendar and prognostication sheets
began to be published together, annually, containing information on what
weather might be expected, the changes of the moon, eclipses, an astronomical
man with figures from the zodiac which ruled its bodily parts, the rules of
phlebotomy and so forth.
Astrological Figure - Rider's Almanack - 1767 |
The former separate sheets had been intended to be
fixed on the walls of homes or merchants offices, but the later booklets were
issued to be used as cheap and readily accessible works of reference. When
Henry VIII began his reforms of the English church, the former practice of
marking the years by the Saints’ Days began to be viewed with suspicion of
popery, but the universities and the law, together with other bodies, used a
specific Saint’s day (Michaelmas, Hilary, etc) rather than the day of the
month, for marking deeds, leases, documents, term-times and so forth; following
the Reformation, the lesser Saints’ days were removed, with only the major days
noted.
The Royal Kalendar - April 1765 - (Note only the more important 'Red Letter' days) |
Although published together, it was normal practice for the almanac and
the prognostication to be separated within the text, with separate title pages
(presumably so that the more puritanical patrons could discard the bits that
offended their sensibilities), and as they developed, blank diary pages were
added, together with information about the principal fairs, highways, the dates
of the monarchs and their birthdays, basic medical cures and recipes, and other
useful or interesting facts. Although the almanacs were sold for 1d or 1½d,
they were sold in such numbers that they rivalled only bibles as the most
popular and lucrative works sold by booksellers and patents were jealously
guarded.
Rider's British Merlin - 1767 |
The Stationers Company required that all published books be entered at
Stationers’ Company Register, where the right to sell copies were issued
(hence, ‘copyright’), and stiff fines were liable if illegal copies were
printed or sold (12d for every unregistered copy sold was not unusual). The
Stationer’s Company rigorously protected what they regarded as their sole
preserve, and in 1603, they formed the English Stock, funded by shares from the
members, which controlled the highly lucrative trade in almanacs.
Almanac Day at Stationers' Hall |
The annual
publication of the almanacs (on or about November 22nd), was marked
with immense activity at Stationers’ Hall, as porters carried out great bundles
of new almanacs to be delivered to booksellers throughout the country. They
were perfectly comfortable selling the astrological prognosticators and, from
the end of the seventeenth century, satirical works that openly mocked the
reliance of the more gullible public on the spurious prophesying. Of the former
publications, perhaps the most popular was Old Moore’s Almanack, written
by a self-educated astrologer and physician, Francis Moore, which was first
issued in 1697.
Francis Moore - Vox Stellarum - 1831 |
His first almanac contained predictions about the weather, and
Moore went on to write the Vox Stellarum (Voice of the Stars), which
developed into his astrological Almanack, with predictions of world
events for the coming year, together with more ‘conventional’ information, and
continues to be issued today (not to be confused with Old Moore’s Almanac
– spelled without a /k/ - which is an Irish publication).
Poor Robin's Almanac - 1794 |
The more
satirical almanacs began with Poor Robin’s Almanac, in 1664, which
contained such useful speculations that in January,
“… there will be much frost and cold weather in Greenland.”
Under February, the prediction was,
“We may expect some showers of rain this month, or the next, or the next after that, or else we shall have a very dry spring.”
Poor Robin’s Almanac
continued to be published until 1828, and was a coarse mixture of the
blindingly obvious with the down-right indecent, leavened with a health dose of
scepticism, although later editions replaced the bawdery with blander home-spun
homilies.
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