Legendary scryers: Pan Twardowski

Today's famous scryer is perhaps a little less than famous to English-speaking readers.  I'm talking about the quasi-historical Polish sorcerer and folkloric figure Pan Twardowski.  Pan Twardowski (or Master Twardowski) is a Faustian character who sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for occult powers.  In Poland, he has been memorialized in numerous plays, ballads, legends, and folk art.

Like Faust, Twardowki managed to evade fulfilling his end of the bargain for many years.  Always a clever one, he included in his contract a clause that stipulated that the devil would collect his soul in Rome, a place that he then avoided visiting at all costs.  His magical career finally ended when Old Scratch found his own loophole, coming to collect Twardowski's soul while he dined in a tavern named Rome.  (Today, there are numerous inns in Poland that claim to be the site of this fatal meeting.)  As Twardowski was being carried off to Hell, he entreated the Virgin Mary, and she came to his aid.  The appearance of the Blessed Virgin so startled the devil that he dropped Twardowski on the Moon, where he resides in solitude to this day.  But Twardowski gets bored there without his magical books and tools.  He sometimes sends spiders down to earth on silvery threads, to act as emissaries and informers for him.

The sorcerer of Krakow may be based on a real 16th-century occultist whose true identity is unclear.  Or he might be composite character created from the activities of various seers and magicians that were swarming Poland at the time (including, perhaps, John Dee and Edward Kelley, who resided in Krakow).  It's one of those cases where historical fact and colorful fiction blend together in an inextricable mess.

The most well-known story about Twardowski involves his evocation of the ghost of a Polish queen.  It seems that Twardowski spent some time in the employ of the Polish king, Sigismund II Augustus.  The king, after the death of his first wife, had made the politically unwise choice of marrying his court mistress, a Lithuanian noblewoman.  This second queen, Barbara Radziwiłł, was reportedly beautiful, accomplished, and the object of the king's passionate devotion.  Unfortunately, her position attracted the jealous attention of many courtiers, and she died of a sudden illness just five months after her coronation.  (Poisoned by her treacherous mother-in-law Bona Sforza?  Oooh...history's mysteries!)  In any case, her untimely death devastated the king.  He draped her chamber in black and remained in mourning for the rest of his life.  (Though he did remarry, hoping vainly for an heir.)

Krakow at that time was something of a haven for occultists, and the king surrounded himself with astrologers, mediums, and necromancers to comfort him in his grief.  One of these was said to be Pan Twardowski.  One night, at the urging of the king, Twardowski brought his magic mirror to the death-chamber of Queen Barbara.  There, the master magician summoned the wronged queen to full appearance, to the great relief of  the royal widower, and secured his position at court.  (Skeptics and cynics alleged that Twardowski faked the whole thing with the help of the queen's old gowns and a look-alike chambermaid.)

An artifact associated with Twardowski has survived (mostly) intact--the so-called "Twardowski mirror."  This is a tin and silver mirror supposed used by the magician for his scrying and conjurations.  In 1711, the mirror was installed in the Basilica of the Assumption in Wegrow, Poland--where it remains to this day.  The prophetic pull of the mirror was said to be so great that anyone could gaze into it and see portents of event to come.  (That is, until 1812, when Napoleon Bonaparte beheld his coming defeat and lashed out at the mirror, cracking its surface and dispersing its magical power.) The Latin inscription on the frame translates as, "Twardowski played with this mirror, performing magical tricks; now it is destined to serve God."

Artwork, from top:

Wojciech Gerson, "The Ghost of Barbara Radziwiłł (1886).     

Józef Simmler, "The Death of Barbara Radziwiłł" (1860).

Woodcut of Twardowski mirror (1871).

Legendary scryers: Frederick Hockley

Frederick Hockley (1809-1885) was a British occultist who was particularly fascinated with the practice of summoning spirits into crystals and mirrors.  His other interest included alchemy, Rosicrucianism, and later in life, Freemasonry.  An accountant by trade, he spent much of his free time visiting the British library and transcribing magical texts for his vast personal library.  Hockley's meticulously recorded scrying sessions spanned several decades.  In a lecture given in 1854, he claims to have thirty years of experience with crystallomancy.  Assuming he began in 1824, his practice predates both the Spiritualist movement and the Victorian occult revival spearheaded by the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn.

 Despite his lifelong interest in the practice, Hockley apparently was not himself a gifted scryer.  Instead, he relied on the talent of a clairvoyant assistant (usually a young woman acting under hypnosis), who he termed his "speculatrix."  His most fruitful such partnership was with Emma Louisa Leigh, who began scrying for Hockley around the age of thirteen, and who died at the age of twenty.  Through her, Hockly received the answers to over 1,000 questions posed by him to a purportedly ascended spirit being, who he called C.A. (for Crowned Angel).  The result is a lengthy philosophical and cosmological document, which certainly exceeds what a Victorian girl of Leigh's age and education could be expected to generate.

Hockley published no books during his lifetime.  His output was in the form of lectures, letters and essays on magic and mysticism.  He was reputedly a generous lender of his personal library, and kept up an active correspondence with students and colleagues on the topics that interested him.  Virtually the only component of his practice that he did not share was the collection of spiritual diaries that detailed his scrying sessions.  These were dispersed after his death, and the contents mostly lost.  Of the thirty or more notebooks he is said to have compiled, only a few excerpts transcribed by one of his associates have survived.

However, we can gather some of his methods from the book "Invocating by Magic Crystals and Mirrors."  This short treatise originated as a hand-scribed and illustrated manuscript which Hockley presented for the medium Barbara Honywood (herself an accomplished watercolorist), probably to try and inspire her to scry for him.  Hockley was a devout Christian, and grew more and more devoted as a result of his lifelong work with spiritual entities.  Thus his tracts contain effusive prayers, invocation of angelic spirits, and precise formulae for the proper consecration of ritual objects.  For would-be scryers, Hockley prescribes a life of abstinence and piety in order to avoid the physical and mental problems that seemed to have befallen many clairvoyants and mediums of Hockley's day.

Maybe this speaks more to my ignorance that his obscurity, but I hadn't heard of Frederick Hockley until fairly recently.  His works are not much in print, and for that reason I think he's often overlooked.  It is almost certain that Hockley's manuscripts were circulated widely among members of the Golden Dawn, and strongly influenced the development of that organization.  Hockley also stands as a transitional figure between the venerable tradition of Renaissance magic whose grimoires he studied, and the eclectic occult revival which was soon to follow him.  For those who are interested in learning more about this fascinating figure (and who have moderately deep pockets), occult publisher Teitan Press is currently in the process of putting out some truly covetable fine editions of his major works.  Or, you can check out the book The Rosicrucian Seer (out of print, but available as used paperback and also online if you poke around), which compiles some of Hockley's papers into a single volume.

Further reading:

Teitan Press's Frederick Hockley Series.
Hamill, J.  The Rosicrucian Seer: The Magical Writings of Frederick Hockley (1986).
Samuel Scarborough. "Frederick Hockley: A Hidden Force behind the 19th Century Occult Revival" Journal of the Western Mystery Tradition 14:2. (2008).

Legendary scyers: Jeane Dixon

Before Sylvia Browne and James Van Praagh were camping out on late-night cable, there was Jeane Dixon (1904-1997), one of the first celebrity psychics of the modern era.  Dixon, now best known for her alleged prediction of the Kennedy assassination, reached millions of Americans through her syndicated newspaper column and popular autobiographies.   A professed Catholic who often wore a prominent crucifix, Dixon maintained that her prophetic abilities were a gift from God, and not in conflict with her Christian beliefs.  She rode a wave of increased interest in psi phenomena in the 1960s to a position of considerable influence.  Richard Nixon followed her predictions and met with her in person at least once, and she also advised Nancy Reagan during Reagan's White House years.

 Dixon made her predictions by gazing into a large, clear crystal ball in which she claimed to see scenes of future events.  The psychic, who had a penchant for self-mythologizing, claimed that a gypsy gave her the crystal when she was young and told her she would become a famous seer.  She made some correct public predictions which captivated believers, and some notable belly flops which caught the notice of the skeptics.  (The year 2000 came and went without a World War with China, a female U.S. president, or a cure for cancer.)  In the skeptical lexicon, her name is attached to the "Jeane Dixon effect"--the fallacy by which a psychic's "hits" are publicized and "misses" are downplayed or ignored, creating the illusion of accuracy.

Whether her talents were genuine or not, Dixon's legacy is that of a unique historic personage (and something of a kitsch icon).  Her prop of choice, that large crystal ball, fetched almost $12,000 in a 2009 auction of her personal effects.

Further reading:

Montgomery, Ruth.  A Gift of Prophecy: The Phenomenal Jeane Dixon (1965).
Dixon, Jeane.  My Life and Prophecies (1969).

Ripples in a pond: Lecanomancy

Lecanomancy (from Greek lecane, "dish" or "pan") is the practice of divination by dropping objects into water.  The diviner observes the sound or shape of the water to gather omens about the future or distant present.  Stones or precious gems may be dropped in the water, and their ripples noted.  Or, the diviner may pour oil or dark colored liquid into clear water, and interpret the shapes formed as it pours.  Lecanomancy is closely related to water-scrying, and at times the two methods may overlap.  Unlike, say, tea-leaf reading, I haven't been able to find a source explaining what different types of ripples traditionally mean.  Which suggests that lecanomancy, like scrying, is mainly dependent on the seer's intuition and judgement, rather than on a prescribed set of rules.

Lecanomancy was recorded first in ancient Greece, where natural springs were considered to be sacred to the gods and good for scrying.  The popular practice of throwing coins into "wishing wells" may be descended from a European custom in which a maiden would drop a piece of gold into a well in order to catch a glimpse of her future husband.  Here's an example of a modern lecanomantic ritual, from the book Healing Crystals by Cassandra Eason:

For personal divination, ask a question and drop five moonstones into a crystal bowl of water lit by the moon or by silver candles. The ripples as each falls into the water will suggest an image in your mind’s eye and the five images will answer your question.

On her website, Eason also recommends scattering herbs across the surface of the scrying vessel, then reading the clusters of herbs, or the space in between.  Another tradition is to drop a shiny coin or pebble into the basin, then gaze at the submerged object instead of the water's surface.  Similarly, I've heard of painting a spot on the bottom of the vessel and fixing the eyes on the wavering point.  And recently I stumbled across this so-called Tibetan scrying bowl:  It has handles attached to the sides, which allow the scryer to gently agitate the surface of the water by gripping them with the hands.

Having read and experimented with water-scrying fairly widely, I've come to the conclusion that it is often useful to disrupt the surface of still water with one of the methods discussed.  A smooth plane of water can be too reflective--or just too blank.  Ripples, submerged objects, etc., can act as points of entry for the scryer to same way that rainbows, fractures, and inclusions in crystal are sometimes helpful.  Water has an advantage, though, in that you can disrupt it as much or as little as you need to in order to create the perfect canvas for your visions to emerge.

Scrying with obsidian

Obsidian is a natural volcanic glass.  It is an ancient scrying tool with unique properties and sacred associations that make it a popular choice even today.   The stone, found primarily in North America, is black with a naturally glossy texture.  Large deposits of obsidian were formed when silica-rich lava or magma cooled rapidly, creating an igneous rock.  Obsidian often gets lumped into the crystal category by New Agers, but the stone is technically not crystalline--it's vitreous (or amorphous).  The metaphysical properties attributed to obsidian include grounding, blocking negative energy, spiritual protection, and enhancing psychic vision.  (Isn't every single gemstone credited with clearing negativity and enhancing psychic vision?  Just once, I'd like to walk into a crystal store and have someone say, "Here, check out the energy of this crappite--it shuts down all your chakras at once and gives you warts, besides!") 

Anyway, the largest veins of obsidian are found in North America, where for thousands of years it was used to make tools and ceremonial items.  Obsidian is fairly easy to shape with stone tools, and can be honed to an extremely sharp edge.  The knowledge of metallurgy, so important in the course of European civilization, did not develop in pre-Colombian Mesoamerica, perhaps because of the wide availability of obsidian for knives, axes, and awls.  To the Aztecs, obsidian was a divine stone, thought to be a form of blood originating from deep in the earth.  It was sacred to the god Tezcatlipoca ("Smoking Mirror"), who presided over magic, divination, the night sky, and ancestral memory.  Obsidian also has mythic significance in the Navajo and Maya cultures.  (For more obsidian facts and history, go here.)

Obsidian in its usual form is solid black and polished to a high shine.  But there are variations.  "Gold sheen" or "silver sheen" obsidian has phantom streaks of light-catching inclusions, which are caused by tiny gas bubbles trapped during the cooling process.  "Rainbow" obsidian has a multicolor effect caused in a similar way by trapped water.  There's also "snowflake" obsidian (or "Apache tears") that is sprinkled with grey, ash-like flecks.  (I can't imagine that this kind would be very good for scrying.)  Most obsidian goods come from Mexico.  You can buy obsidian in the usual assortment of shapes, including spheres, cabochons, skulls, pyramids and palmstones, and also in natural chunks which reflect the flow of the lava that formed it.

Among the most prized of scrying tools are black obsidian mirrors.  These are usually unframed round or ovoid slabs about a centimeter thick.  Broad pieces of obsidian that can be crafted into mirrors are rare, and it takes a lot of skill to cut the brittle stone this way.  That translates into serious coin.  I've seen 6-inch obsidian mirrors selling for $300 or more online, while most occult shops offer 12-inch beveled black glass mirrors for between $60 and $100.  If it's important to you to have the natural volcanic glass, you'll almost certainly have to content yourself with a smaller surface.

Now, from reading various internet forums (why, oh why?) I've learned that some people are reluctant to use a black surface for scrying, the same way some people have a fearful reaction to black candles, robes, and other ritual tools.  Of course my esteemed readers already know that there isn't anything evil or sinister about the color black and indeed it has a rich symbolic link to sleep, the powers of the North, the generative darkness of the Goddess, etc.  I think the black mirror's PR problem comes not only from negative associations with the color, but its use in ceremonial magic as a means of evoking spirits, such as in the Solomonic revival led by Carroll "Poke" Runyon.  But just because dark mirrors are useful for evocation work, doesn't mean you can't safely use them for general divinatory purposes, also.  If you're drawn to obsidian, you should use it.  If you're so superstitious and timid that just looking at a black surface gives you the creeps, you should probably just take up needlepoint--it's safer.

 While I'm dishing out the unsolicited advice, I'd also like to say, don't worry if you can't see anything in obsidian, because it really is different from other media.  Just try something else.  (Conversely, you might want to try obsidian if other scrying tools don't do it for you.)  For years, I thought that I couldn't scry a dark surface.  Despite some fleeting success with hematite and blank computer screens, I got much better results with water and later, quartz.  I found I relied on the subtle movements of light inside my specula, and obisidian just looked flat to me.  I also disliked the tendency of black surfaces to suddenly reflect my face back to me when I was trying to get a fix on a vision.  (That's right--my face is just too, too distracting.)

Recently, though, I've branched out and started playing with a small obsidian sphere that I picked up for around $10.  I was at a new (to me) crystal store that had a large display of obsidian at very reasonable prices.  There was another shopper nearby me, a Mexican man, who was in the process of reverently handling each and every stone one by one, sometimes muttering under his breath and holding the stone closer to his head as if waiting for an answer.  I watched him for a little while, then figured well, either he's fuckin' nuts or he knows what he's doing.  What the heck, maybe I'll go find me an obsidian, too.

So I go over to the display (there was plenty of room, and anyway, he didn't notice me) and start picking up rocks.  I didn't talk to them, though.  Eventually there was one I felt particularly drawn to, a ball about an inch and a half in diameter.  I held it up to the light.  And...I saw something!  Some clouds, some mountains.  I was so excited--I'd never seen anything (besides my nose) in an obsidian sphere before.  There was motion and light, a silvery streak with just the slightest warm tinge.  (I couldn't tell if it was silver or gold, so I just called it "sold.")  I took it home and began to work with it right away.  Turns out this was a "sheen" obsidian, which I had never heard of before.  When I turn it back an forth, it has a hypnotic effect that's similar to what I get from the light play in quartz.  I still find that clear depth works best for me, but I enjoy the challenge of trying something different.  I also get out obsidian during the dark moon, when my (very lunar) primary crystal seems to be hibernating.

Well, that's about all I know about scrying with obsidian.  I recommend trying this beautiful stone, especially if you have an affinity for volcanoes, Aztec and Mesoamerican culture, the color black, or the elements of Earth and Fire.  If you have any ideas or experiences that relate to the magical use of obsidian, please share them in the comments section--I'd love to learn more.

Related links on my blog:

Read about some basic scrying techniques.
Don't like black? Shop for a crystal instead.
See pictures of the most notorious obsidian mirror ever.

Dr. Dee's scrying tools at the British Museum

The British Museum has a collection of occult items belonging to Dr. John Dee which, amazingly, have been preserved for over four hundred years.  These items were instrumental in what is certainly the best-recorded and most influential scrying operation in history.

Dr. John Dee (1527-1608/9) was a British mathematician, astrologer and magician who served as a consultant to Elizabeth I.  With the help of his scryer, Edward Kelley (1555-1597), he developed (some say received) the mind-bogglingly complex system of angelic magick called Enochian.  After a series of elaborate temple preparations and lengthy prayers, Dee would invoke God's angels and Kelley would relay communications from them.  Dee kept meticulous records, and there are lots of books and articles that tell the story of the entire seven-year operation.  I recommend Lon Milo Duquette's Enochian Vision Magick for its depth and accessibility.

It's really hard to overstate the importance of Dee and Kelley's work to the current Western tradition.  There's a lot of Enochian revivalism going on among ceremonial magicians, who appreciate the system's otherworldly power (and don't mind its verbosity).  But traces of the Enochian DNA are found in even in "earth-based" systems like Wicca, thanks to the influence of Aleister Crowley and the Golden Dawn at the beginning of the 20th century.

The objects are, from left: Dee's black obsidian mirror which was brought from North America; a quartz crystal sphere (6 cm in diameter), possibly the "chrystallum" described in Dee's manuscripts; two engraved wax seals, used to support the legs of the Holy Table used in the operation; large Sigillum Dei Aemeth (Seal of God's Truth), upon which Dee placed his "shew-stones"; gold disc engraved with the Vision of Four Castles experienced in by Kelley in 1584.

I visited the British Museum once as a child, but I breezed right past these objects, unaware of their immense historic and occult significance.  If I ever make it to London again, I'll definitely take a few moments to gawk at them.

More pictures, taken by a visitor to the museum.

Legendary scryers: Themis

Programming note:  I thought it might be fun and instructive to do some short segments on famous diviners from the past--some historical tidbits to mix things up a little.  This is the first installment on legendary scryers from history, mythology, and fiction.

Themis is one of the Titans, the ancient Greek gods who preceded the Olympians.  She has the ability to see both the past and the future, and her prophetic gifts grant her wisdom and perspective coveted by both gods and mortals.  In this kylix painting, King Aegeus, father of the hero Theseus, consults Themis on the question of the royal family's infertility.  The Titaness stares intently into a flat bowl, called a phiale, while the king waits anxiously for his answer.

 According to legend, Themis established the oracle at Mount Parnassus (Delphi), and was its mistress until Apollo defeated the serpent Python and claimed the site as his own abode. In this painting Themis is shown (somewhat anachronistically) in the attitude of a Delphic priestess, balanced on the oracular tripod and holding Apollo's laurel branch.

In addition to being a goddess of prophecy, Themis is also the personification of divine justice.  She is often depicted with scales and sword, making her the ancestress of both the ubiquitous courthouse statue and the Tarot trump called Justice.  Her name has been translated as "law," but Moses Finley points out that themis has no exact analogue in English: "A gift of the gods and a mark of civilized existence, sometimes it means right custom, proper procedure, social order, and sometimes merely the will of the gods (as revealed by an omen, for example) with little of the idea of right."  Clear-headed and ruthlessly impartial, Themis teaches acceptance of things as they are or will be, rather than how the seer might wish them to be.

Your grandma's crystal gazing books, now available online

There are many in-depth texts about crystal gazing that were published before 1923 and have since passed into the public domain in the United States.  Several are available for download free of charge from various places.  Some of these books contain timeless information that remains helpful for the modern student.  Others are full of quaint and superstitious ideas, but still delightful as historical curiosities.  (Many contain a mixture of both!)  Here are some, in no particular order, for your handy perusal (in case of broken links, try googling the title and author):


Sepharial (pseudonym of Walter Gorn Old).  How to Read the Crystal, or Crystal and Seer. 1922.

Frater Achad (Charles Stansfeld Jones).  Crystal Vision Through Crystal Gazing.  1923.  (Also in PDF.)


William Walker Atkinson and L.W. de Laurence. Practical Psychomancy and Crystal Gazing. 1907.

Theodore Besterman. Crystal Gazing: A Study in the History, Distribution, Theory, and Practice of Scrying. 1924.

John Melville. Crystal Gazing and the Wonders of Clairvoyance.  c. 1915.

Catherine Yronwode has compiled a more extensive bibliography, (but no links or texts), which includes descriptions of the original published editions for collectors and book nerds.