Lessons from Historical Magic: Turning the Loaf for Divination
Authorβs Note: The materials shared on this blog are based on the authorβs own research and interpretation. They are intended as resources for students of Hagstone Witchery and for practitioners exploring traditional, folkloric, and folk magic. All posts are offered in the spirit of shared knowledge and inspiration, not as prescriptions or declarations of the βrightβ way to practice.
Among the many techniques preserved from the records of the cunning folk of pre-modern and early modern Europe, we find the practice of βturning a loafβ for divination. In this method, a stale loaf of bread was pierced with knives in the shape of a cross, mounted upon a stick, and held aloft like a weathervane. When yes-or-no questions were asked, the movement of the loafβturning right or leftβwas read as the answer. At first glance, this practice may seem quaint, even impractical, for modern witches. After all, the bread we encounter today is not the same as the coarse, dense bread that medieval bakers produced. But if we look beneath the surface, the turning loaf (like many other such practices) can reveal principles and methods of folk divination, and offer valuable lessons for adapting historical magic to contemporary contexts.
First and foremost, this method reminds us that divination in folk magic has always made use of the everyday. Even a stale loaf of bread was not trash but a tool: its heaviness, sturdiness, and slow decay made it ideal for magical repurposing. For the modern witch, this can encourage us to look again at the ordinary objects in our homes when we prepare to work magic. What is at hand may not be a medieval crust of bread, but the principle remains. Divination does not demand exotic or specialized tools. A common object can be transformed into a medium of spirit and fate.
The mechanics of the turning loaf also reveal much about how cunning folk viewed signs and movement. The loaf, suspended on its peg, is subject to the slightest air currents or tremors in the body holding it. To the diviner, these subtle motions are not random but meaningful. They are seen as way for the unseen world to make itself known to us. This practice is similar in effect to the modern practices of pendulum divination, dowsing rods, and even spirit boards. All of these methods rely on small, unconscious movements to provide answers. A modern witch could thus adapt the βturning loafβ by highlighting its kinship with pendulum work. A slice of bread pierced with skewers, a small baked roll suspended on string, or even a symbolic token balanced on a stick could serve as the contemporary counterpart to the loaf itself. The essence here is not the bread but the principle of balanced suspension and subtle movement.
The cross-shaped placement of the knives is also potentially meaningful. As noted by historian and author Tabitha Stanmore, this may have been a way of calling upon the power of Christ to intercede or even to aid in the divination process. This detail reminds us that much of the cunning tradition existed within a Christian framework, where sacred symbols of the church were woven into magical practice. For the modern witch, this raises questions about how we too might call upon the spiritual powers that shape our own world (whether deities, ancestors, or the spirits of the land around us) and how symbols from our own cultural and religious context can be reimagined within our craft.
There is also a lesson here about the sacredness of food. For our ancestors, bread was never trivial, no matter how stale. To set bread aside for divination was to acknowledge that it had power. That the same substance which sustains the body might also be useful in matters of the spirit. Modern witches, too, might find that food and kitchen magic can be central to our divinatory practices. By working with bread, tea, or other staples, we are reminded that magic flows through the same channels as our daily life.
Finally, this method teaches us adaptability. The cunning folk did not merely preserve a static ritual. They worked with what was available, trusted the movements they observed, and sought meaning in the ordinary. At the same time, they were pragmatic. When a practice failed to prove reliable, they set it aside. Records suggest that after many instances of this form of divination method failing, the βturning loafβ fell out of use within the very same century it appeared. This, too, is a lesson for us. Contemporary witches can learn not only from the ingenuity of our predecessors but also from their willingness to relinquish what no longer served them.
As contemporary practitioners, he turning loaf reminds us that divination is not about elaborate tools or rigid preservation of historical detail. It is about cultivating attentiveness, seeking meaning in the commonplace, and trusting the subtle movements of spirit. The cunning folkβs fortune-telling loaf is less a matter of stale bread and more a reminder that every kitchen, every hearth, and every household object holds the potential to speak the language of spirit if we are willing to listen.
C I T A T I O N S
Stanmore, Tabitha. 2024. Cunning Folk: Life in the Era of Practical Magic. Bloomsbury Publishing.
Bogaev, Barbara, host. 2024. βTabitha Stanmore on Practical Magic in Shakespeareβs England.β Podcast episode, Shakespeare Unlimited, October 8, 2024. Folger Shakespeare Library. https://www.folger.edu/podcasts/shakespeare-unlimited/magic-in-shakespeares-england/
