From the earliest centuries of the Middle Ages to the splendor of the Renaissance, the history of France was written as much in the light of official chronicles as in the shadow of occult practices. Behind the kings, wars, and treaties loomed seers, astrologers, alchemists, witches, and secret societies. These marginal figures nevertheless influenced political decisions and fueled popular fears. Far from being a folkloric curiosity or merely a counterpoint to religion, occultism wove its web into every corner of French society, from the common people to the court, ultimately making our nation a stronghold of this hidden science. History.
Medieval Knowledge Between Faith and Witchcraft
During the medieval period, France saw official Christian faith coexist with a multitude of occult practices embedded in popular traditions. Long before the term occultism existed—it would not appear until the 19th century—“occult” arts such as astrology, magic, alchemy, and divination were part of everyday life. Peasants consulted healers and used talismans and incantations to heal illnesses or cast the evil eye, while witches (or warlocks, or magi) secretly practiced in villages. These practices continued ancient pagan traditions—mainly Celtic and Germanic—that had mingled with Christianity over the centuries, intertwined with magical practices from the East inherited from Antiquity.
For the medieval Church, these popular practices posed a challenge. For a long time, religious authorities half-tolerated these “occult sciences” practiced on the margins, especially when they involved astrology or alchemy, perceived as forms of knowledge inherited from Antiquity. But from the 13th century onward, the tone grew harsher: the Inquisition broadened its campaign against healers and sorcerers, gradually equating their practices with heresy. A decisive turning point came in 1326, when Pope John XXII issued the bull Super illius specula, which explicitly equated sorcerers with heretics. Witchcraft thereby became a religious crime: invoking spirits or concocting magical potions meant threatening the Christian order.
In this context, witch trials began to appear everywhere. One of the most famous of the Middle Ages was that of Joan of Arc. In 1431, the Maid of Orléans was tried in Rouen for “heresy and witchcraft”—largely political accusations, as the English judges sought to discredit her by portraying her as a witch inspired by the Devil rather than by God. She was even questioned about the use of an alleged mandrake that she supposedly possessed. Joan vehemently denied any occult practice and maintained that her voices were divine in origin. Despite her defense, she was condemned and burned alive as a relapse, meaning someone who had fallen back into witchcraft and heresy. Her execution at the stake, one of the most famous of the Middle Ages alongside that of the Templars a century earlier, illustrates the fear inspired at the time by any supposed connection with the occult. In the eyes of her enemies, Joan embodied the medieval ambiguity in which an inexplicable phenomenon—her voices and miraculous victories—could be attributed either to a divine miracle or to diabolical witchcraft.

Joan of Arc entering Orléans
Witch trials multiplied especially at the end of the Middle Ages and the beginning of the modern era. Demonology manuals circulated to guide judges and inquisitors. In 1486, the infamous Malleus Maleficarum (the “Hammer of Witches”) was published, a German treatise that influenced all of Europe. France was no exception: in 1580, the French jurist Jean Bodin published De la démonomanie des sorciers, a comprehensive work on witchcraft and demons. This book, which defined a witch as “anyone who knowingly seeks to accomplish something by diabolical means,” became a reference for the judicial repression of practitioners of black magic. Bodin asserted the reality of sabbats and satanic pacts and advocated relentless severity against witches, including torture and burning at the stake. His ideas would have an immense impact on witch hunts in France, legitimizing the pursuit of occult evil in the eyes of the courts.
Thus, from the Templars’ stake to Joan of Arc’s execution, from village healers to Renaissance demonologists, the French Middle Ages were far from an age of naive credulity or complete ignorance. On the contrary, the occult was omnipresent. It fascinated as much as it frightened. On the one hand, the people continued to turn to ancestral magical practices to ward off misfortune or heal everyday ailments. On the other, the ecclesiastical elite developed a genuine learned demonology to combat what it perceived as an infernal threat. This attraction-repulsion toward occultism would leave a lasting mark on French society—and it was far from being limited to the lower classes.
Astrologers and Alchemists at the Side of Kings
A little-known but revealing fact is that the attraction to occultism was not confined to peasant cottages—it extended to the castles of the kings of France. Many sovereigns and great nobles of the realm relied on astrologers, seers, or alchemists to guide their decisions, from the High Middle Ages through the modern era. Even highly Christian kings, such as Louis VII in the 12th century and Louis IX (Saint Louis) in the 13th, did not hesitate to consult the stars as well as their confessors. The presence of occultism at the highest level of the state grew even stronger at the end of the Middle Ages: King Charles V the Wise (1338–1380) surrounded himself with astrologers and had numerous treatises on astrology and alchemy translated for his royal library. He even established a college of astrology in Paris. A few decades later, his grandson Charles VIII had a certain Simon de Phares as his official astrologer, and he would leave behind a manuscript chronicle of the most famous astrologers of his time.
It was during the Renaissance, however, that esotericism truly entered the circles of power. The invention of the printing press around 1450 opened new horizons to the educated elite: the Hermetic texts of Antiquity resurfaced, and treatises on alchemy, Kabbalah, and astrology circulated clandestinely. The Renaissance indeed cultivated a pronounced taste for the occult: thinkers of the period sought to reconcile ancient knowledge, magic, and Christian faith. In Italy, Marsilio Ficino and Pico della Mirandola studied celestial magic and Kabbalah in pursuit of a form of divine truth. This trend spread to France: royal courts became settings for esoteric experiments. Astrological almanacs and grimoires were exchanged there, and the mysterious properties of nature were debated. Alchemy and the transmutation of metals into gold and the elixir of immortality; astrology to predict the outcome of wars or the health of princes; magic—white or black—for the concerns of everyday life.

Catherine de’ Medici
The emblematic figure of this alliance between power and the occult is undoubtedly Catherine de’ Medici (1519–1589). Queen of France in the 16th century, Catherine was passionate about astrology and magic. She surrounded herself with seers and astrologers, including the Florentine Cosimo Ruggieri, her confidant, and the Provençal Michel de Nostredame, known as Nostradamus. Nostradamus, a physician by training, became the official astrologer of the Valois court: he prepared horoscopes for King Charles IX and published his famous Prophecies as early as 1555, a collection of enigmatic quatrains intended to predict the future of the world. These obscure verses enjoyed immense popular success—they would be reprinted for centuries—and made Nostradamus the most famous astrologer in French history. Catherine de’ Medici, for her part, consulted her astrologers about matters of state as well as her family’s destiny. Legend surrounded her with a sinister aura: so it was whispered that this Italian queen, supposedly an adept of poisons and occult sciences, pulled the strings from the shadows to protect her sons’ throne. Although her image as a “poisoning queen” was partly the result of hostile propaganda, it is established that Catherine brought magi to her court, experimented with alchemical remedies, and took an interest in divinatory arts. One famous story claims that she had a private observatory built in Paris for Cosimo Ruggieri, and that together they conducted occult séances to learn the dynasty’s future. It was even claimed that the astrologer Ruggieri had organized bewitchment rituals using a dagyde—a practice consisting of harming an enemy by torturing a figurine made in their likeness—against political opponents, and that he owed his survival only to Catherine’s protection when these acts nearly came to light. Public opinion at the time was convinced that the premature death of the young Charles IX, from a mysterious hemorrhagic tuberculosis, resulted from a spell linked to these dark manipulations.
Ritual between Cosimo Ruggieri and Catherine de’ Medici. Source
Among the figures who fueled the Renaissance’s esoteric myths, Nicolas Flamel must also be mentioned. This 14th-century Parisian bourgeois, who died in 1418, was remembered as a philanthropist who had hospitals built—but rumor made him far more than that. Shortly after his death, it was said that Flamel had discovered the secret of the philosopher’s stone, the legendary alchemical substance capable of turning lead into gold and granting eternal life. His unexplained wealth, which he devoted to charitable religious works, provided the starting point for this myth. Over the centuries, Nicolas Flamel became an indispensable hero of alchemical tales: esoteric treatises were attributed to him—apocryphal works published long after his death—and novels, followed later by films, portrayed him as an immortal keeper of the great secret. In the 16th century, numerous scholars and adventurers embarked on the quest for the philosopher’s stone, sometimes with the discreet support of powerful figures. King Henry II himself was supposedly said to have financed alchemists’ workshops, hoping to fill the kingdom’s coffers through the manufacture of gold.
In the highest spheres of French society, the boundary between recognized sciences and occult sciences remained porous for a long time. At the beginning of the 17th century, an astronomer as serious as Johannes Kepler, who formulated the laws governing planetary motion, could still practice astrology without damaging his reputation. For Renaissance scholars, exploring the hidden forces of nature was an integral part of understanding the world. It was not until the very end of the 16th century, and especially the 17th century, that the gap widened between official science and esotericism. The development of the scientific method, based on observation and reason, led a new generation of scholars to reject old occult bodies of knowledge, which were considered too steeped in superstition. In France, the establishment of the Paris Observatory in 1672 symbolized this turning point: the astronomers working there were formally forbidden to cast horoscopes, as astrology was now banished from the realm of serious science. From then on, astronomy looked at the stars but no longer claimed to read destiny in their movements.
The Shadow of the Occult Over the Modern Era
Despite the spread of rationalist ideas, the attraction to the occult remained powerful in 17th-century French society. It simply became more clandestine. In public, people displayed a Cartesian spirit and mocked the credulity of past generations. But in the privacy of boudoirs, they continued to consult fortune-tellers, make potions, and invoke spirits. Toward the end of Louis XIV’s reign, this hidden side of the court burst into the open in what became known as the Affair of the Poisons. This scandal, which shook the French nobility between 1679 and 1682, revealed the unsuspected scope of an occult network at the very heart of the capital. An investigation ordered by the king showed that “nobles, prosperous bourgeois, and common people secretly turned to fortune-tellers, who were then numerous in Paris, to obtain drugs and poisons, for black masses, and for other criminal purposes.” In other words, every social milieu—from courtesans to artisans—called upon the services of witches and poisoners.

Catherine Deshayes, or La Voisin. Source
The central figure in this dark affair was Catherine Deshayes, known as La Voisin, a fortune-teller and poison supplier who allegedly sold her services to hundreds of clients. In her orbit moved black magicians, defrocked priests celebrating dark masses, and a network of dishonest apothecaries. The revelations sent shockwaves through the court: among those implicated was the Marquise de Montespan, Louis XIV’s own mistress. According to testimony extracted from La Voisin’s accomplices, Madame de Montespan had allegedly resorted to magic for years—love potions and black masses—to retain the affection of the Sun King and eliminate her rivals. She was even said to have commissioned the poisoning of a young rival who had attracted too much attention, Mademoiselle de Fontanges, and to have considered drugging the king himself when his love began to fade. Although these accusations could not be formally proven—Louis XIV, frightened by the scandal, put an end to the public prosecutions as soon as Montespan was implicated—the affair revealed to everyone the real presence of the occult at the heart of power, both as a surprise and as confirmation that yes, the occult existed. Thus, in the gilded salons of Versailles, witchcraft was practiced too—but it was venal and criminal witchcraft, involving poisons distilled in the shadows. In total, the Chambre ardente, the special court created for the occasion, held 210 sessions and issued 36 death sentences. La Voisin herself was burned at the Place de Grève, now the square in front of the city hall, in 1680, taking many secrets with her. Many prominent names mentioned during the investigation, including Montespan, escaped through exile or discreet confinement, as the king preferred to prevent a public explosion over the state affair it represented. Nevertheless, the most flamboyant court in Europe concealed within it a genuine underworld of magic, sacrifices, and pacts.
Beyond this resounding scandal, the modern era saw the continued, diffuse presence of occult practices. In the countryside of the Ancien Régime, people still feared witches and sorceresses. Sporadic witch hunts took place in certain regions of France—for example, in the Basque Country in 1609, when, under a commission from King Henry IV, Judge Pierre de Lancre led a fierce repression and sent dozens of people accused of sabbats and black magic to the stake. Likewise, in Franche-Comté and Lorraine, witch trials continued to appear until around 1650. But gradually, Enlightenment skepticism gained ground, and these persecutions declined.
In the intellectual circles of the 17th and 18th centuries, the focus shifted increasingly toward scientific experimentation. Some occult practices changed and reemerged under a more “rational” guise. One such figure was the Austrian physician Franz-Anton Mesmer, who achieved fame in Paris in the 1780s through animal magnetism: an invisible fluid that he channeled during mysterious group sessions. Although Mesmer rejected the label of magician, many saw him as an occult healer, heir to the magnetizers and astrologers of old. Other esoteric adventurers traveled across Europe, fascinating the elites: Count Alessandro Cagliostro, grand master of a mystical Egyptomania, captivated Parisian nobles with his elixirs and rituals before becoming involved in the Affair of the Diamond Necklace. On the eve of the Revolution, rationalist thought thus existed alongside a keen curiosity about the irrational. It is no coincidence that many Masonic lodges—first appearing in France around 1725—cultivated a taste for esotericism, multiplying alchemical symbols and Templar references in their rites. Likewise, from the end of the 17th century onward, mysterious manifestos attributed to the Rosicrucians, a secret fraternity devoted to occult wisdom, circulated throughout Europe. In 1623, Paris itself awoke to find its walls plastered with strange posters announcing the arrival of these invisible Rosicrucians, “masters of omnipotence”—enough to fuel every legend. Even when official science turned away from it, part of the elite continued to seek the hidden knowledge of ancient magi in the secrecy of the lodges.
The Occultist Revival in the 19th Century
After the turmoil of the Revolution and the Empire, 19th-century France experienced a remarkable occultist revival. In the age of triumphant positivism and industrialization, many minds longed for mysteries deeper than those offered by materialist science. It was in this context that what would later be called “occultism” emerged as a distinct intellectual movement. “Occultism as a school of thought was born on the ruins of the revolutionary and imperial wars. It made its voice heard as a counterpoint to that of the Restoration during the first third of the 19th century,” explains historian Jean-Pierre Laurant. Indeed, from the 1830s to the 1850s, Paris once again became a major center of esotericism: literary salons became enthusiastic about magnetism, the occult sciences were reassessed in the light of Romanticism, and attempts were made to establish a “new epistemology” combining mysticism and science.
Éliphas Lévi
It was during this period that the word “occultism” itself appeared in French, around 1842. A former seminarian named Alphonse-Louis Constant—better known by the pseudonym Éliphas Lévi—published Dogma and Ritual of High Magic in 1856, a foundational work that laid the foundations of modern occultism by synthesizing Kabbalah, tarot, alchemy, and magnetism. Éliphas Lévi proclaimed himself an heir to Paracelsus and Swedenborg and claimed to reconcile faith and science through magic. His success reverberated throughout Europe. Soon, structured occultist circles formed: in 1888, Dr. Gérard Encausse, known as Papus, founded the Martinist Order and a Hermetic School in Paris. He defined occultism as “the totality of theories, practices, and paths of realization derived from the Occult Science.” In his writings and those of his contemporaries—Stanislas de Guaita, Joséphin Péladan, and others—French occultism of the Belle Époque asserted its roots in esoteric Christianity, presenting itself as a complement to religion rather than its enemy.
At the same time, foreign influences enriched this revival. The Theosophical Society, founded in 1875 by Helena Blavatsky, introduced esoteric ideas from the East into France. Blavatsky, a colorful figure, popularized the notion of a universal occult tradition combining Buddhism, Hinduism, Kabbalah, and spiritualism. Her works found a considerable audience and laid the foundations for 20th-century esoteric movements, extending to the New Age of today. Spiritualism also flourished through Allan Kardec: communicating with spirits by means of turning tables became an imperial fad—Napoleon III himself was supposedly present at séances. All this attested to a persistent thirst for mystery in French society, from the humblest person to the most powerful.
The 19th century thus closed the circle of this long history: occultism, never eradicated, resurfaced openly, this time in the form of structured movements, journals, lodges, and initiatory orders. What had once been clandestine or reserved for royal courts was now displayed in bookstores and Parisian salons. In 1900, Paris was both the capital of rational sciences and of the occult sciences, hosting psychology congresses and lectures on Kabbalistic magic.
Thus, the history of France is intimately and inseparably linked to occultism, not to glorify the irrational, but to remind us that the desire to uncover the secrets of nature and destiny is universal and timeless. This occult thread, woven through the centuries, forms part of the nation’s intangible heritage—a shadowy part often hidden, but never extinguished, which continues to fuel curiosity and the imagination.
Sources:
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Paul Lacroix, Sciences and Letters in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance
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The Trial of Joan of Arc (historical transcripts, particularly the version published by Jules Quicherat)
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Jean Bodin, On the Demon-Mania of Witches (1580)
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The Key of Solomon (medieval grimoire translated by S.L. Mathers)
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Simon de Phares, Collection of the Most Famous Astrologers and Seers
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Pierre de Lancre, Tableau of the Inconstancy of Evil Angels and Demons (1612)
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Robert Mandrou, Magistrates and Witches in 17th-Century France
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Archives of the Affair of the Poisons (1679–1682), Chambre ardente
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Michel de Nostredame (Nostradamus), The Prophecies (1555)
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Jean-Pierre Laurant, Contemporary Esotericism and Its Readings of Tradition
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Éliphas Lévi, Dogma and Ritual of High Magic (1856)
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Papus (Gérard Encausse), Elementary Treatise on Occult Science
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Critical Dictionary of Esotericism, ed. Jean Servier (PUF)































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