Imagine a village in Alsace in the 19th century. A cow is wasting away, the milk turns sour, and the farmer suspects a curse. Rather than relying solely on the doctor, they call on the local braucheur – this healer who recites prayers and knows the gestures to ward off bad luck. By candlelight, he recites an incantation in the German dialect while making the sign of the cross on the animal. Not far away, in the room of the son who has gone to military service, a curious parchment covered with texts has been slipped into his bag: a letter from Heaven, to protect him from bullets and danger. These scenes illustrate the spirit of the magico-religious practices that have endured in Alsace and the German-speaking regions of Lorraine. Between Braucherei (rituals of blessing and healing) and Hexerei (malicious witchcraft), a whole universe of popular rites rooted in local Christian faith has developed. Discover a very local country magic.
A tradition in faith and daily life
At the heart of these practices lies a worldview where the sacred and the profane intertwine. Alsace and German-speaking Lorraine, lands of strong religiosity, have seen a Christian folk magic flourish, inherited from the Middle Ages and renewed by the occult currents of the Reformation. In these rural communities, the entire creation – family, livestock, fields, home – is perceived as connected to a Christian cosmic order. Religion is not only at the temple on Sundays: it permeates every daily gesture. People pray for the health of children, the protection of the farm, the fertility of the crops. They bless the house during major festivals, place wooden crosses at the village borders to protect it. In short, spirituality is lived in every act of domestic and agricultural life, through a multitude of brauches (rites) that give meaning to both the joys and trials of existence.
This traditional magic draws its origins from the Christian faith while preserving older roots. Many rituals were indeed ancient pagan formulas adapted into saints' prayers, passed down orally from generation to generation. Through transmission, the original words have changed: some incantations have become almost unintelligible, a sacred jargon no longer understood word for word – without this diminishing their prestige or perceived effectiveness. The important thing lies elsewhere: it is the intention, the deep faith of the healer and the seeker, that activates the power of the rite. In the local mindset, God and invisible forces form a whole; using a special prayer or ritual gesture to heal is not seen as superstition opposed to religion, but rather as a natural extension of Providence. This integration of the sacred into everyday life was such that even religious transformations (Protestant Reformation, rise of science, etc.) did not eradicate these practices, which survived by adapting to the new context. The saints once officially prayed to continue to be invoked at home for specific needs (healing, livestock protection, etc.), including among Protestants who, officially, no longer honor them. In other words, the people kept their secret "little ritual," alongside Sunday services.
Another striking feature of this tradition is its mode of esoteric transmission. The knowledge of the Braucher (practitioner of Braucherei) is generally passed on informally, within the family or close community. Intriguingly, the rule of alternation is often found: a man can only learn these secrets from a woman, and a woman from a man. Thus, the grandmother will teach her grandson, the grandfather his granddaughter. This cross transmission rule ensures balance and, in fact, grants both women and men an equal place in the role of traditional healer. Anyone, regardless of gender, can hold the “secret” – provided they receive it seriously and with the sincere intention to help others. Because Braucherei is not learned for glory or intellectual curiosity: it is learned “for real,” with the humble purpose of serving the community. The gift is considered sacred and its abuse morally dangerous. As a result, the knowledge is jealously guarded: many practitioners preferred to take certain secrets to the grave rather than reveal them to someone unworthy or a mere curious person. This discretion allowed the tradition to survive long under the radar of religious or medical authorities. And when the lineage of transmission breaks due to lack of a suitable disciple, sometimes a stranger or an apprentice from another village must come to collect the heritage so it is not lost.
Finally, it is important to understand that these Alsatian and Lorraine magical practices are fundamentally Christian in their symbolism. They pray to the Trinitarian God, invoke Christ, the Virgin Mary, the archangels, and the saints. Blessed objects are used (palm branches from Palm Sunday, holy water, religious medals) and sacred texts (biblical verses, Pater Noster, Ave Maria). Although the institutional Church sometimes condemned these “superstitions,” in the village spirit, one is not serving the Devil by acting this way: on the contrary, divine power is channeled to defend against Evil. That is why the Braucherei was willingly called “good magic,” as opposed to the satanic “bad magic” attributed to witches (Hexen). Thus, we speak of the beneficial Braucherei of the healer, and on the other hand, the harmful Hexerei of the sorcerer, not forgetting a key element of this magical heritage: the Himmelsbrief, the famous protective heavenly letter.
Braucherei, or how to heal and protect through the sacred
The dialect term Braucherei refers to the set of healing and blessing rituals traditionally practiced in these regions. In Pennsylvania, where many Alsatians and Lorrainers emigrated in the 18th century, Braucherei was translated as powwow, a term now commonly used for this Christian healing system. But long before its export across the Atlantic, Braucherei flourished in our countryside under various names: in French, people spoke of healers, secret makers, spell removers, or more poetically, spell lifters. The role of the Braucher (the Braucherei practitioner) was multiple: to heal the body and soul, protect people, animals, and crops, and attract luck and success in daily activities. They were a white healer-enchanter (understood by their benevolent intention), doing good through occult but sanctified means.
The methods of Braucherei always combine spiritual and material elements. Prayer is at the heart of the ritual: a particular prayer, passed down by memory, that invokes God or a saint for the specific affliction. But this prayer is accompanied by gestures and supports – because all of creation can serve as a channel for the divine. A common example is the sign of the cross traced three times above the affected area, sometimes accompanied by a light breath or spit (a symbol of expelling evil). Objects are also used: a piece of blessed bread, Candlemas oil to anoint a wound, a Virgin’s belt worn by a woman in labor to ease childbirth. Medicinal plants also hold an important place, as many brauchers knew herbalism and combined natural remedies with prayers. This alliance of herbal medicine and the spiritual is typical: the illness is treated on all levels at once, physical and invisible.
What strikes in Braucherei is the attention to “signatures” and correspondences. Every ailment has its appropriate remedy, determined by analogy or sacred tradition. To treat a burn, one would invoke Saint Lawrence (martyred on a fiery grill) or the Virgin Mary under the title of Our Lady of Fire, and recite a “cooling” prayer while passing a damp cloth – the fire ailment being symbolically transferred into the water. Similarly, against Saint Anthony’s fire (ergotism or shingles), one could recite the Gospel of Saint Anthony or apply an oil consecrated on his feast day. Braucherei prayers are notably very beautiful, imbued with poetry: they speak to the elements, conjure the illness as an entity to be ordered away. Such a blessing prayer begins: “Today I rise and go in the name of God the Father †, God the Son †, God the Holy Spirit †… May Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the Three Wise Men accompany me on the path and protect my home and my loved ones…”. As you can see, the language of these rituals is steeped in Christian references (Trinity, Saints, Wise Men) while taking place outside the official liturgical framework. It is an unofficial liturgy of daily life, passed down by the grandmother rather than the priest.
Sator Square, protective talisman. Source
The Braucher act empirically and humbly. They do not claim to be thaumaturges with great powers, but rather instruments of God. The success of their interventions relies on faith: the faith of the healer, the faith of the patient. It is said that some formulas only “work” if the client firmly believes in God – a sine qua non condition sometimes stated in the charm’s text itself. An Alsatian formula to stop hemorrhages begins with “Stop, blood, as Jesus Christ stopped in the Garden of Olives”, clearly referring to the Passion of Christ to confer its effectiveness. Thus, Braucherei presents itself as an extension of prayer, a more embodied prayer, using words and gestures to request immediate divine help.
Braucherei practices cover a wide range, from healthcare to preventive blessings:
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Transferring the illness into a tree: to cure a chronic ailment (persistent fever, “poor” blood, exhaustion), a healer could perform a transfer ritual to a tree. The process was precise: first, they collected a symbolic part of the patient’s illness (for example, nail clippings or a few drops of blood) and placed it inside a hollow object – a small goose feather carved into a tube. Then, on a Friday before dawn, during the waning moon, they would pierce a hole in a wild tree (an oak or a barren pear tree) on the side where the sun rises, insert the feather containing the illness, and seal the opening with a wooden wedge, striking it three times. The symbolism is strong: Friday (the day of Christ’s Passion) and the waning new moon were meant to draw the illness “downward and inward” – in this case, into the tree that would serve as a receptacle. Freed in this way, the patient would regain strength while the tree was supposed to wither or dry up gradually, carrying the illness away. This practice of “plugging” (sealing the tree after trapping the illness inside) was still documented until the 19th century in the Rhineland region and in the United States among descendants of these immigrants.
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Bewitchment diagnosis: of course, the Braucher was consulted to determine whether a mysterious illness had a natural or occult cause. One magical diagnostic method involved examining the reaction of the patient’s urine on glowing embers. A 17th-century healer from Lorraine explains: “I heated the urine on a red-hot coal: if it reddened and evaporated, it was a natural illness; but if it turned white and did not burn, it meant there was a spell”. If the test revealed a spell, the healer knew to use additional spiritual remedies – prayers of deliverance, fumigations of blessed sulfur, or a counter-spell – alongside classic medical treatments.
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Protection of the home and livestock: Braucherei included a whole range of preventive actions to safeguard the house and farm from evil. For example, a sacred symbol was fixed on the stable door – such as the monogram C✝M✝B (initials of the Three Wise Men Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar) accompanied by a blessing – to prevent witches from “stealing” the cows’ milk. Similarly, a horseshoe was sometimes nailed above the threshold (a symbol of luck and apotropaic) or a cross was drawn with blessed chalk on each door at Epiphany. Some of these customs still survive today, transformed into religious tradition: for example, the inscription of C✝M✝B on doors after Epiphany is still practiced in Catholic Alsatian villages but originates from these home protection rites. The Braucher could also prepare small talismanic sachets containing consecrated herbs (verbena, St. John's wort), medals, and a written prayer, which were carried on the person or buried in the barn’s foundations. The goal was to “armor” the living space against harmful influences – whether they came from a jealous neighbor, a malevolent spirit, or the Devil himself.
In all these beneficial Braucherei practices, the guiding idea is the pursuit of harmony and health through the sacred. The Braucher sees himself as an intercessor, somewhat like an unofficial priest of the community, reconciling man and the forces beyond him. He makes divine graces accessible for concrete needs: healing a burn, bringing bees back to the hive, or calming a family dispute. That is why the people held him in respect and gratitude. However, this beneficial magic only existed because, on the other hand, its evil opposite was feared: Hexerei, the bad witchcraft that casts spells. If the healer was indispensable, it was also because the fear of Hexen (witches) remained very much alive.
Hexerei, or the fear of curses and counter-witchcraft
In Alsace as in Lorraine, the German term Hexerei refers to malicious witchcraft, the kind that aims to harm in secret. It is typically the black magic attributed to Hexe (the evil witches or wizards). In the old village mindset, many unexplained misfortunes were blamed on these occult works: sudden livestock diseases, devastating storms, a child wasting away without apparent cause, butter that no longer churns. People lived in fear of this invisible evil that was the spell, the curse. Thus, a whole reputation of Hexerei developed, with its characters (the jealous old witch, the healer who sells his soul) and its tales of enchantments.
Witchcraft accusations wreaked havoc in the region’s history. At the end of the Middle Ages and especially during the early modern period (16th-17th centuries), Alsace and Lorraine were the scene of intense witch hunts, fueled by fear of the Devil. Hundreds of people – mostly women – were tried and executed for Hexerei, based on mere suspicions or reported curses. This fierce repression, carried out by civil or religious courts, left a lasting mark on the collective memory. Even after the major trials ended, the figure of the witch remained a bogeyman in rural areas. People avoided the company of certain old women reputed to “have the evil eye,” or who were said to possess a grimoire to make pacts with Lucifer.
The powers attributed to witches were formidable. They were believed to have the ability to harm property and beings in many ways. In Lorraine, it was said that witches could, on Walpurgis Night or other favorable times, steal the fertility of a field by collecting dew with a sheet, or divert the milk of cows by placing a broomstick in the stable and “dragging” it like an imaginary cow. They could cast a spell on the wheat so it wouldn’t grow, put worms in the mill’s flour, or prevent a young bride from consummating her marriage by hiding a needle used to sew a shroud under her bed. Stories abound: someone found a black toad in their pigs’ trough one morning – a sure sign that a witch had cursed the animals; another saw their cows fall ill one after the other, likely because a Hexe had buried a cursed sachet containing toad bones and sabbath herbs under the stable. Even natural phenomena like a sudden invasion of caterpillars could be attributed to witchcraft mischief.
Hexerei arriving at the sabbath. Source
Faced with this ever-present fear of witchcraft, rural society developed means of defense and counter-witchcraft – this is where Braucherei meets the fight against Hexerei. The Braucher was the one people turned to in case of suspected spellwork. Their role was not only to heal but also to undo the harm caused by a sorcerer. They were called, for example, to “lift” a spell weighing on a sick person: they then used prayers of exorcism or deliverance, sometimes in Latin (such as the famous Exorcism against Satan and the rebellious angels, or special prayers against harmful spirits). They could also advise apotropaic gestures to the victim: placing blessed salt at the four corners of the house, carrying a “prayer against sorcerers” written in Latin on a parchment, or nailing a hawthorn branch (a protective plant) above the door.
In many cases, simply declaring the spell “broken” through the healer restored confidence to the bewitched person – and this confidence contributed to the healing. The effectiveness of counter-witchcraft was as much about psychology as it was about the sacred: once the victim was no longer afraid, the witch’s power vanished. Furthermore, the Braucher could try to identify the responsible sorcerer using traditional methods. One method involved melting lead or wax in a basin of water while reciting an incantation, then observing the solidified shapes: one could see the initial or silhouette of the malevolent person. Other times, three candles were lit in the name of the Trinity and the phrase was spoken: “May the sorcerer who caused this harm present themselves at this house” – and if someone suspicious arrived soon after, they were considered the culprit.
It is interesting to note that the boundary between Braucher and Hexer was sometimes blurred. Officially, the Braucher denied using Hexerei: he saw himself as the antidote to the sorcerer, not his accomplice. He healed where the other sought to harm. In the Pennsylvania language derived from our dialects, one indeed says: "Braucherei" for beneficial magic and "Hexerei" for harmful magic, and the two are generally opposed. The braucher (also called Powwow doctor in English) is called to remove a spell cast by a hexer. Nevertheless, in the eyes of some, all manipulated occult forces and the line could be thin: a reputed healer could easily be accused of witchcraft if he aroused envy or fear. The difference often lay in the morality attributed to the person. As long as he worked for good and gave thanks to God, he was an acceptable good sorcerer; if he began to utter curses or charge too much for his services, he was suspected of making a pact with the Devil. This ambiguity has followed the figure of the sorcerer-healer into modern times: his knowledge is admired, but he is still viewed with some suspicion.
The Himmelsbrief, the protective letter from Heaven
Among all the magical-religious practices of the region, the Himmelsbrief holds a special place. This German term literally means "letter from Heaven". It refers to a written document, presented as of divine origin – said to have been written by God himself, by Christ, or an angel – which promises protection and blessings to its possessor. The concept of the Himmelsbrief is ancient and not limited to Alsace-Lorraine: traces of it can be found as early as the Middle Ages, with the legend of a letter from Jesus that fell from the sky to urge men to piety and protect them from plagues. In the 13th century, the chronicler Joinville reports that a certain Jacob, leader of the shepherds' crusade (1251), brandished a letter supposedly given by the Virgin Mary to rally the crowds. This motif of the heavenly letter reappears periodically in European history, in Orthodox, Catholic, and Protestant contexts alike: each time, it is a sacred message miraculously delivered, carrying promises of salvation but also strict conditions (often, the order to copy the letter and spread it, under threat of divine punishment).
Himmelsbriefs. Source
In Alsace and Lorraine, the Himmelsbrief spread mainly during the modern and contemporary periods, linked to popular printing and domestic devotion. These letters from the good God appeared as broadsides (printed posters) or manuscripts that were kept reverently at home. They were sometimes hung on the wall, in the main room or in the stable, as a kind of spiritual talisman protecting the household and livestock. Others carried them on their person, folded in a small leather pouch, especially when they had to travel or go to war. The typical content of a Himmelsbrief mixes biblical verses, prayers (such as the Lord’s Prayer, excerpts from psalms), and formulas of divine assurance. The letter proclaims that “any bearer of this message will be protected from sudden death, bullets, lightning, plague,…”, listing a series of earthly dangers from which one will be shielded. However, it warns that anyone who despises it or does not reproduce it faithfully will bring misfortune upon themselves – for there is a price to pay for divine protection. Most of these letters end with an injunction: “Copy this letter and share it with your fellow humans” – which made them true spiritual chains across generations.
The Himmelsbrief was particularly popular during troubled times, when divine protection was fervently sought. Notably, during the First World War (1914-18), many German soldiers – including Alsace-Moselle men forcibly conscripted into the Kaiser’s army – carried protective letters with them to the front. Mothers or wives would hand-copy a Himmelsbrief formula for their son or husband going to war, so that this talisman would make them invulnerable to bullets. A documented case is that of Marie Geffers, a farmer from Lower Saxony, who in August 1914 wrote in her best handwriting a magical letter addressed to her son-in-law Richard, going into battle. On a field mail form (Feldpostbrief) she wrote biblical passages, invocations of the Trinity, and various assurances of protection against weapons – texts she had probably copied from models circulating among her neighbors. This trench Himmelsbrief, like many others, would protect the soldier from danger, provided he kept it piously on him and remained in a state of grace. The practice was so widespread that military authorities sometimes worried about it, seeing a superstition that could verge on insubordination (a soldier who believes himself invincible might take reckless risks). But for these men facing death daily, carrying a handwritten letter from their mother mixing prayer and magic in their pocket must have brought real psychological comfort – and of course tangible protection in the eyes of faith.
The content of the Himmelsbriefe varies, but some elements are recurring. Besides prayers and blessings, there are sacred symbols drawn or calligraphed: the name of Jesus in ornamental letters, crosses, the IHS monogram, the three nails of the Crucifixion. Sometimes, the letter takes the form of a celestial dialogue (Jesus dictating the letter to an angel). Others include very precise moral instructions: helping the poor, observing Sunday,... making the text both a reminder of the duties of a good Christian and a talisman. This dual nature is interesting: the Himmelsbrief offers “automatic” protection by its mere presence, but it also urges its owner to lead a virtuous life, the implicit condition for divine help. In this sense, one could say it is a covenant: God protects the individual through the letter, and in return, the individual commits to faith and righteousness.
In our Alsace and Lorraine regions, a Himmelsbrief was obtained either by having it written by a respected practitioner (a renowned Hexenmeister or Braucher), or by purchasing a printed version during a pilgrimage or religious fair. Indeed, from the 18th century onwards, peddlers sold cheap prints of blessings and heavenly letters. However, many people preferred the handwritten version, considered more authentic and powerful, especially if it came from the hand of a healer known for their faith. Some Hexenmeister monetized their mystical writing skills, creating personalized Himmelsbriefe in exchange for sometimes substantial sums. Others, on the contrary, believed that this knowledge should not be sold: the true Himmelsbrief, according to them, should be given freely or for a symbolic donation, otherwise it would lose its virtue. In any case, these magical letters circulated widely. Even at the beginning of the 20th century, they could be found hanging in peasant homes in Moselle or Alsace, alongside crucifixes and holy images, testifying to the enduring popularity of these religious talismans.
The Himmelsbrief represents the culmination of the fusion between magic and faith that characterizes Alsace-Lorraine witchcraft. It is nothing less than a sacramental from the people: a paper object bearing the Divine Word and serving as a quasi-sacramental protection. Neither fully approved by the Church (which often sought to suppress these “superstitious writings”), nor entirely foreign to Christian piety (since it is saturated with biblical texts and prayers), the Himmelsbrief navigates between orthodoxy and magic. It embodies the human desire to have a tangible contract with Heaven: a few written lines and the hope that God will sign at the bottom of the page to fulfill His promise to keep His children safe from harm.
Persistence and heritage
Alsatian and German-Lorraine magical practices constitute a rich cultural heritage. Of course, the context has radically changed: the traditional rural world has largely disappeared, taking with it part of these active beliefs. In the era of scientific medicine and technology, few consult a spell lifter to heal livestock or slip a celestial letter under the pillow to ward off lightning.
In the countryside of Alsace and Lorraine (as well as in other regions of France), there are still people called healers or keepers of the secret. These heirs of Braucherei continue to treat burns, shingles, warts, or "wild fire" exactly as their ancestors did. These practices enjoy social tolerance – including from some doctors who pragmatically observe the improvement of their patients combining both approaches. This is far from the persecutions of the past: today’s healer is no longer hunted as a witch. But beyond that, there is a lesson to learn: our ancestors, without diplomas or technology, had developed a knowledge of the soul and heart to ease suffering and tame fear.
Sources:
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Kriebel, David W. Powwowing Among the Pennsylvania Dutch: A Traditional Medical Practice in the Modern World. University Park, PA: Penn State University Press, 2007.
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Donmoyer, Patrick J. Powwowing in Pennsylvania: Braucherei & the Ritual of Everyday Life. Kutztown, PA: Pennsylvania German Cultural Heritage Center, 2017 (exhibition catalog and study with primary sources).
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Yoder, Don. "Hohman and Romanus: Origins and Diffusion of the Pennsylvania German Powwow Manual," in American Folk Medicine: A Symposium, University of California Press, 1976, pp. 235-248.
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Hohman, John George. The Long Lost Friend [1820] (English edition 1850, digitized text). Major primary source of Braucherei.
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Bächtold-Stäubli, Hanns & Hoffmann-Krayer, Eduard (eds.). Hand Dictionary of German Superstition (HDA). Berlin–New York: de Gruyter, 1927-1942 (reprint 1987). See entries "Himmelsbrief" (R. Stübe) and "C.M.B." on the Epiphany blessing.
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Stübe, Rudolf. "Himmelsbriefe and Chain Prayers," Scientific Yearbook of the Tyrolean State Museum, 6 (2013), pp. 245-255 (historical-comparative synthesis).
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Briggs, Robin. The Witches of Lorraine. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007, and associated documentary database (approx. 400 trial files).
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Follain, Antoine & Simon, Maryse (eds.). Witchcraft and the City. Strasbourg: University Press of Strasbourg, 2018 (notably A. Follain’s chapter on urban and rural Lorraine).
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Simon, Maryse. Witchcraft Cases in the Lièpvre Valley (16th–17th Centuries). Strasbourg: Publications of the Learned Society of Alsace, 2006 (review in Revue d’Alsace, 2007).
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Diedler, Jean-Claude. "A Witch Trial in Southern Lorraine at the Beginning of the 17th Century," History & Rural Societies, no. 7, 1997, pp. 133-172 (critical edition of judicial sources).
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Rémy, Nicolas. Daemonolatreiae libri tres, 1595 (English translation Demonolatry, 1929). Lorraine demonological treatise based on a large corpus of trials.
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Roehrig, Jacques. Witch Trials in the 16th–17th Centuries in the Eastern Lands: Alsace, Franche-Comté, Lorraine. 2016 (BNU Strasbourg record).
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Archives of the City and Eurometropolis of Strasbourg. "Witch Trial in the Ban de la Roche" (presentation of archival documents, Alsatian context).
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Wikisource (DE). "Himmelsbrief of 1864" (example of a 19th-century celestial letter, primary source).
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Glencairn Museum. "Powwowing in Pennsylvania: Healing Rituals of the Dutch Country," Newsletter, March 9, 2017 (transcription of manuscripts on transferring an illness into a tree).
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Strasbourg Museums – Alsatian Museum. Press kit (2024) and resources on devotional imagery and Alsatian domestic objects (relevant for Haussegen and home protections).
