The Starry Art: Medieval English Astrology Through the Ages

In the damp, mist-shrouded mornings of medieval England, when the sun's first rays pierced the darkness, learned men would often be found huddled over carefully drawn charts, tracking celestial movements with a reverence that modern minds might struggle to comprehend. Astrology in medieval England wasn't merely entertainment or superstition—it was science, medicine, politics, and religion interwoven into the very fabric of daily life.

The Cosmic Tapestry: Astrology in English Society

From the humblest peasant to the mightiest king, the movements of the heavens influenced decisions both mundane and momentous. "The stars incline, but do not compel," went the old astrological maxim—though many an English monarch might have begged to differ, so thoroughly did celestial counsel guide royal affairs.

William the Conqueror himself reportedly chose his coronation date—Christmas Day, 1066—based on astrological calculations that promised a favourable alignment. Later, Edward III would consult his court astrologer before major military campaigns, while Elizabeth I relied heavily on the celestial insights of Dr. John Dee, perhaps England's most renowned astrologer.

"You'd be hard-pressed to find a royal decision of true consequence that wasn't timed to the heavens," explains Dr. Margaret Harwood of Wilfred Hazelwood, whose research into court astrological manuscripts has uncovered dozens of previously unknown charts cast for everything from treaty signings to royal births. "Medieval English kings didn't just hope for divine right—they sought celestial confirmation of it."

Oxford's Stellar Scholars

By the 13th century, Oxford had become a centre for astrological study, with scholars incorporating Arabic texts that had preserved and expanded upon ancient Greek astronomical knowledge. These Oxford astrologers weren't marginal figures but respected academics whose expertise bridged what we now artificially separate as science and mysticism.

The university's Merton College became particularly renowned for its work in mathematical astronomy—the precise calculations needed for accurate astrological prediction. The 'Merton Calculators', as they came to be known, developed sophisticated methods for tracking planetary movements that would influence European astronomy for centuries.

One surviving manuscript from Merton, dated approximately 1348, contains this telling passage: "The wise physician must look not merely at the patient's humours but at the position of malefic Saturn, lest treatment begin under inauspicious skies and thus be doomed to failure." Medicine and astrology were inseparable companions.

The People's Stars: Common Astrology

While royal courts had their learned astrologers casting elaborate horoscopes, common folk relied on simpler forms of celestial wisdom. Almanacs—often hand-copied and passed between villages—provided basic astrological guidance for planting, harvesting, bloodletting, and other practical matters.

"Plant when the moon waxes in Taurus or Cancer for heartier crops," advises one 15th-century text found near Gloucester. Such advice wasn't treated as mere superstition but as practical knowledge accumulated over generations of observation.

Childbirth, too, fell under astrology's purview. Midwives often tracked lunar phases, believing that births during a waxing moon ensured stronger children. A child born with Mars ascending might be destined for a soldier's life, while one born under Mercury's influence could be marked for scholarly pursuits.

"My gran would sooner birth a babe under the full moon than take ten gold nobles," claimed Martha Thatcher of Shrewsbury in a 1472 court deposition, highlighting how deeply celestial timing had embedded itself in everyday wisdom.

From Heavens to Herbs: Medical Astrology

Perhaps nowhere was astrology more practically applied than in medicine. The human body was seen as a microcosm reflecting the macrocosm of the universe, with different body parts governed by specific planets and zodiacal signs. Physicians were expected to be competent astrologers, timing treatments according to favourable celestial configurations.

The Royal College of Physicians, established in 1518, included astrological education in its curriculum well into the 17th century. Medical texts routinely featured zodiac men—illustrations showing which body parts corresponded to which signs—alongside herbal remedies and surgical techniques.

"To bleed a patient when the moon sits in the sign governing the afflicted body part was considered dangerous folly," notes a 14th-century English translation of the influential Arabic medical text, the 'Tacuinum Sanitatis'. "The wise physician waits for a favourable aspect."

Apothecaries similarly aligned their work with the stars. Herbs were harvested under specific planetary hours to maximise their efficacy, and medicines compounded when beneficial aspects formed between healing Jupiter and the sun.

The Church's Complicated Relationship

While the Catholic Church officially maintained that stars were signs rather than causes—and that human free will remained paramount—the reality in medieval England was more nuanced. Many bishops and abbots employed astrologers, and some were accomplished practitioners themselves.

The 14th-century Benedictine monk Richard of Wallingford, who became Abbot of St. Albans, was renowned for his astronomical instruments and astrological expertise. Rather than seeing conflict between his faith and celestial studies, Richard viewed astronomy and astrology as ways to better understand God's creation.

"The heavens declare the glory of God," proclaims Psalm 19:1, a verse frequently cited by clerical astrologers to justify their practice. Yet tensions remained, particularly around predictive astrology that seemed to challenge the doctrine of free will.

Thomas Aquinas's careful distinction between general influences (which he deemed acceptable) and specific predictions that claimed certainty about human choices (which he rejected) became the theological compromise that allowed astrology to flourish in Christian medieval England.

Chaucer's Celestial Knowledge

Geoffrey Chaucer, best known for 'The Canterbury Tales', was also an accomplished astronomer and astrologer who wrote 'A Treatise on the Astrolabe'—an instructional text on using this important astronomical instrument. His literary works overflow with accurate astrological references that his contemporary audience would have readily understood.

In 'The Canterbury Tales', the character of the Doctor of Physic is described as keeping "his patients' horoscopes prescriven, when in their beds they lay full sick and wretched." This wasn't satirical but a straightforward description of expected medical practice.

The Wife of Bath, meanwhile, proudly declares herself born when Mars was in Taurus, explaining her passionate nature—a detail Chaucer's readers would have immediately recognised as astrologically significant.

The Stars in Wartime

Medieval English warfare incorporated astrological timing to a degree that modern military planners might find startling. Battles were frequently delayed or hastened based on celestial alignments, and army physicians would consult the stars before treating wounded soldiers.

The Battle of Agincourt, that defining English victory of 1415, was fought on St. Crispin's Day—October 25th—a date some historical evidence suggests was chosen partly for its astrological favourability, with Mars well-positioned for martial endeavours.

"King Henry V might have claimed divine support, but his astrologers had calculated that the heavens themselves favoured English arms that day," writes military historian Sir James Harcourt. "Medieval warfare was as much about timing as tactics."

Declining Influence and Lasting Legacy

As the Renaissance gave way to the Scientific Revolution, astrology's standing in England began a slow decline. The increasing mechanisation of the heavens, accelerated by Copernicus, Kepler, and Newton, gradually separated astronomy from its astrological twin.

By the late 17th century, astrology had retreated from royal courts and university curricula, though it remained popular among the general population. Almanacs continued to offer astrological advice, and many physicians quietly maintained the old practices despite the changing intellectual climate.

Yet traces of medieval astrological thinking persist in modern English culture. Our language remains infused with astrological concepts—we speak of "mercurial" personalities, "saturnine" dispositions, and "jovial" characters, all references to planetary temperaments. The very word "influence" derives from the Latin "influentia," originally referring to the flowing of ethereal power from the stars.

Even today, in the villages of Cornwall and Yorkshire, you can still hear old farmers murmur about planting by the moon's phases—living echoes of medieval wisdom that once guided an entire realm.

The Astrological Manuscripts: England's Hidden Treasure

Some of England's most valuable yet underappreciated medieval manuscripts are its astrological texts. The Bodleian Library at Oxford houses dozens of these works, many lavishly illustrated with intricate zodiacal imagery and precise astronomical calculations.

"These weren't merely decorative," explains Dr. Harwood. "They were working documents used daily by practitioners who saw no contradiction between mathematical precision and cosmic symbolism."

The British Library's Harley MS 2332, a 15th-century English astrological compendium, contains detailed instructions for calculating planetary positions alongside guidance for medical treatments—a perfect encapsulation of how thoroughly integrated astrology was with practical knowledge.

Wilfred Hazelwood's collection includes a rare provincial almanac from 1432 that records local weather patterns alongside planetary positions, an early attempt at correlating celestial movements with meteorological conditions—a practice not entirely unlike modern farmers consulting the Farmer's Almanac.

Stars That Still Speak

Medieval English astrology offers us more than historical curiosity—it provides a window into a worldview where heaven and earth were perceived as inextricably connected, where the movements of distant planets carried immediate significance for daily life.

While we no longer time our surgeries to lunar phases or consult astrologers before battle, something of that medieval sensibility persists in our continued fascination with the cosmos. When we look up at the same stars that guided medieval English kings and commoners alike, we participate in a timeless human experience.

The astrologers of medieval England, with their complex charts and celestial calculations, might seem distant from our modern scientific understanding. Yet their fundamental insight—that patterns in the greater universe might reflect and influence our lives—continues to resonate across the centuries, connecting us to a time when the boundary between earth and sky seemed more permeable, and the heavens themselves spoke directly to human affairs.

As one anonymous 14th-century English astrologer wrote in a margin note discovered only last year: "Though men may forget the stars, the stars shall never forget men." In medieval England, that was not poetic metaphor but practical truth—a worldview in which the cosmos itself took notice of human lives.