Jeffrey E. Anderson



1619:  The first African Americans were brought to British North America.

1692:  African American magical practices were featured in the Salem Witchcraft Scare.

1718:  New Orleans was founded.

1808:  The international slave trade was closed by the United States.

1849:  The first uses of the term “hoodoo” in print occurred.

1865:  Slavery was abolished in the United States.

1881:  Marie Laveau died.

1890s:  Hoodoo supply shops operated in cities with large African American communities.

1899:  Charles Waddell Chesnutt’s The Conjure Woman, which was the

first major work on hoodoo, was published.

1918:  Caroline Dye died.

1931:  Zora Neale Hurston’s “Hoodoo in America,” the first work to treat hoodoo as a positive aspect of African American society, was published.

1935:  Zora Neale Hurston’s Mules and Men was published.

1947:  Dr. Buzzard died.

1962:  James Spurgeon Jordan died.

1970-1978: Harry Middle Hyatt’s Hoodoo—Conjuration—Witchcraft—Rootwork was published.


Hoodoo had no clear origin. The first written references to hoodoo appeared in 1849 in a Natchez, Mississippi newspaper, and most other mentions of the term likewise centered around the Mississippi River Valley until the later nineteenth century. The word itself is probably of West African ancestry and likely originated in the area bordering the Bight of Benin, which was also the origin of the term“Voodoo.” [Image at right] In modern parlance, the two are distinct, however, with hoodoo referring to predominantly African American magical practices while Voodoo specifies a form of African Diasporic religion once found in the Mississippi River Valley. Prior to the 1950s, the terms were much more closely intertwined. Author George Washington Cable, for instance, described hoodoo as the word African Americans called the practice whites referred to as Voodoo. In fact, the 1849 article that first introduced hoodoo to readers used the word to describe the religion.

While the exact derivation of hoodoo is unclear, it likely originated in one of the closely related Gbe languages of the region. One possible source are the Ewe words “hu” and “do,” which together can mean “spirit work.” Whatever its precise genesis, by the early decades of the twentieth century, hoodoo had become one of the most recognizable terms for African Diasporic supernaturalism (Anderson 2008:ix, 42-3; Cable 1886:815). Outside of the Mississippi River Valley, what is now known as hoodoo was called by a variety of names, including mojo, tricking, rootwork, cunning, and most prominently, conjure. While the first term likely originated in West Central Africa, the rest are of English origin. Conjure, treated as both a noun and verb by practitioners and their clients, originally referred to the practice of calling up spirits (Anderson 2005:28, 57).

In colonial North America and eventually the Unites States, various African traditions merged and adapted elements from the European and Native American cultures they encountered. By the antebellum era, slaves chewed galangal roots and spat the juice toward masters in order to protect themselves from mistreatment, a practice derived from West Central Africa. In the Mississippi River Valley, believers in Voodoo called on deities drawn from the Bight of Benin region of West Africa as they worked magic. At the same time, many had come to incorporate the Bible and Christian saints into their supernatural beliefs and formulae. Likewise, contact with Native Americans introduced them to new materials that they quickly incorporated into their practice, including amaranth to draw love and puccoon root for good fortune (Anderson 2005:30-1, 39, 56-60, 68-72).

Prior to the late nineteenth century, hoodoo was primarily the domain of lone practitioners, typically called hoodoo doctors, conjure men or women, or two heads, who sold supernatural goods and services to clients. Conjurers’ repertoire was profound. Divination and the manufacture of charms to draw luck, love, and the like were always part of their services. Many also claimed the ability to magically harm their clients’ enemies and to heal the victims of such malevolence. Prior to emancipation, hoodoo practitioners also concocted materials designed to help runaway slave escape pursuit and instructed believers how to use roots and spiritual powders to protect themselves from the cruelty of masters and overseers. With freedom came a further broadening of conjure’s purview. Amulets designed to attract jobs and money proliferated. Instead of protection from owners, hoodoo practitioners now promised to defend clients from the justice system of the Jim Crow era, which was notoriously biased against African Americans accused of crimes (Anderson 2005:79-87, 100-03; Long 2001:99-161).

As the nineteenth century drew to a close, hoodoo had clearly begun to evolve. While lone practitioners who gathered their materials from nature never disappeared, they increasingly found themselves in competition with a spiritual supply industry. Botanical supply houses became a source of herbal curios, and producers of spiritual and occult literature increasingly marketed to African Americans. Soon, companies devoted to the manufacture of African American supernatural supplies appeared. Though their product lines often included the herbal curios of earlier days (or imitations thereof), they increasingly came to be dominated by incenses, oils, and other goods whose chief connection to traditional items was in names that referenced traditional materials like black cat bones and John the Conqueror root. Alongside, the manufacturers developed a host of spiritual supply shops, which appeared in cities with substantial African American populations. At the same time, the reach of shops and manufacturers, as well as individual conjurers, expanded with the growth of African American newspapers like the Chicago Defender that carried advertisements for their products, which could be conveniently acquired through mail order. By the turn of the twentieth century, many had embraced the Internet as the latest marketing and retail tool (Anderson 2005:115-29, 131-32).


As is common with magical systems, at the heart of hoodoo practice are the principles of sympathy and contagion. Sympathy, in a supernatural context, refers to the concept that items or substances sharing common properties can spiritually affect each other (Anderson 2005:55). For a great many hoodoo formulae, their sympathetic elements are common. The most extensive study of the structure underlying African American supernaturalism, Michael Edward Bell’s Pattern, Structure, and Logic in Afro-American Hoodoo Performance, notes the pervasiveness of sympathy in the making charms, commonly known as hands by practitioners and their clients. As Bell points out, the most common elements in hands designed to acquire money is lodestone, a naturally occurring magnet. The underlying logic is that the lodestone’s attractive property will draw money to the one who makes use of it. Similarly, spells designed to cause confusion or disorientation to victims might require the hoodoo doctor or client to shake a charm or turn it upside down (1980:212, 254).

The principle of contagion, meanwhile, is the belief that things once in contact continue to affect each other even when they are no longer together (Anderson 2005:103). This principle is most clearly at work in those items that incorporate materials connected with those the maker intends to either help or harm. For example, Harry Middleton Hyatt recorded a spell intended to kill that required the caster to first obtain a clipping from the intended victim’s underwear. Once acquired, the performer was to fill the piece of cloth with graveyard dirt, tie it into a packet with three knots, sew it closed with a cross-shaped stitch, and bury it. [Image at right] Implicit in the formula is the belief that cloth once in contact with the person to be harmed continued to have the power to affect the victim (Hyatt 1970-8:1976)

To be sure, sympathy and contagion frequently work together. In one healing formula recorded by folklorist Harry Middleton Hyatt, a hoodoo practitioner described how to cure oneself of disease by magically giving it to someone else. To do so, one must obtain a child’s doll, sympathetically representing the diseased person. Then, one should decorate the doll in ribbons, tying one knot for each time the afflicted has had the ailment in question, thereby sympathetically and contagiously binding the disease to the doll. Finally, one should leave the toy in a place where someone is likely to pick it up, transferring the doll as well as the disease bound to it to the unwitting victim (Hyatt 1970-8:398-99).

Impersonal principles of sympathy and contagion are not the only powers at work in hoodoo. On the contrary, conjurers and their clients generally have maintained that spiritual beings and forces support and participate in their supernatural works (Long 2001:6). In the Mississippi River Valley, where hoodoo was often an aspect of the Voodoo religion, deities and Catholic saints aided those casting spells. Outside of the region, practitioners were much more likely to look to the Christian God as their source of power. In both areas, the spirits of the dead were vitally important.

One of the most common ingredients in amulets and spells was graveyard dirt, a means of incorporating an item contagiously linked to the deceased into supernatural rituals. Other physical items had a reputation for inherent supernatural power. One prominent example has been High John the Conqueror root, which was a source of strength for a wide range of spells designed to bring about positive ends. Black cat bones, meanwhile, were widely renowned as a means of obtaining invisibility (Anderson 2005:100-01, 105).

In addition to conveying spiritual power, such beings or forces supposedly inhabited charms produced by practitioners. Ruth Bass, author of “Mojo: The Strange Magic That Works in the South Today,” for instance, maintained that in her experience, practitioners of hoodoo (referred to as mojo by that author) believed that all physical objects had indwelling spirits (1930:87-88). In such a mindset, the main difference between an amulet and an everyday object was that conjurers claimed the ability to control or at least manipulate the spirit indwelling the former, using it for good or ill depending on clients’ desires and the sympathetic and contagious properties of its ingredients. Though few researchers have recorded explicit statements outlining this underlying theoretical assumption, it is made evident by the common practice of feeding charms with alcohol or other liquids, a practice that many consider necessary for the items to remain effective (Anderson 2005:100-01).


Specific hoodoo formulae can vary wildly. Depending on the type of services rendered, the process could range from the simple use of a divination tool to the elaborate manufacture of a talisman, the purpose of which could be anything from guaranteeing success in love to killing an enemy. The underlying principles of sympathy and contagion, along with the empowering aid of the spirit world provided the structure. Curing curses, however, tended to follow a multistep pattern. First, the hoodoo doctor would diagnose the problem determining whether or the client’s affliction was natural or supernatural. If the latter, the conjurer would then determine who was responsible for the affliction. Next followed the cure, which began with the practitioner locating and removing the source of the harm, which often took the form of a physical item hidden in or near the victim’s home. To complete the cure, the hoodoo doctor would remove the symptoms of the curse so that the victim could return to health. Finally, in many cases, the conjure man or woman would turn the spell back on the one who had cast it, administering spiritual justice to the source of the evil (Bacon 1895:210-11; Anderson 2005:102).

An excellent example of the full process can be found in Harry Middleton Hyatt’s, Hoodoo-Conjuration-Witchcraft-Rootwork, where it is entitled “Tell Him What to Do to Turn It Back.” In this case, a man had developed a sore on his ankle that made it difficult for him to walk. When a medical doctor proved unable to help him, he went to what Hyatt’s informant called “a witchcraft.” After an initial prescription that called for washing the sore in urine and salt failed, the conjurer informed his client that the affliction was supernatural and had been administered through the medium of an item placed under the side of the victim’s bed. The man returned home, looked under his bed, and removed a dirty white bag into which were sewn and tied five small balls and a bottle of perfume. The victim took the bag to the hoodoo man, who burnt it. At some point in the process, the practitioner also gave his client a salve, which healed the wound itself. When the victim asked the conjurer to turn the spell back on the one who had cast it, he was unwilling to personally take a hand, but he did tell his client how to do so. In this case, the vengeful party was to put some of his own stool in half-gallon jar and bury it in a path traveled by his enemy. The man did so, later discovering that the one who had harmed him indeed developed a sore on her ankle as well (Hyatt 1970-1978:334).

As spiritual supply shops became more and more important and clients gradually transformed into customers, the practice of hoodoo gradually came to center more and more on the person seeking supernatural assistance than on the professional conjurer. In some cases, store clerks took the place of conjurers, recommending particular roots, oils, incenses, Bible verses, and the like as well as the processes one should follow to draw on their power. In other cases, a how-to book, such as The Life and Works of Marie Laveau or The Master Book of Candle Burning, were the closest customers got to a consultation. As early as the late nineteenth century, mail order allowed customers to acquire such texts without ever setting foot in a shop. In short, for an increasing number of users, hoodoo has gradually become a self-service practice (Long 2001:99-126; Anderson 2005: 112, 117-22)


Hoodoo has never had the sort of formal leaders that one finds in religions. Instead, prominence within the practice has most commonly rested upon the success of the practitioner. Prior to the late nineteenth century, the relationship between conjurers and those who sought their aid can best be described as that between a professional and a client. Individuals seeking supernatural assistance approached those practitioners whom they believed most capable of meeting their needs or desires. The hoodoo practitioner would divine, prescribe, and/or supply charms or spells designed to bring about the results sought. [Image at right] Some would specialize in a particular aspect of the process, such as divination, while others claimed the ability to perform all aspects. Regardless of how broad or narrow their practice, they received pay for their services (Anderson 2005:86-87, 101-03).

Practitioners came by their supposed supernatural power in a variety of ways. In the Mississippi River Valley, initiations were one means of entering the profession. Outside of the area, however, becoming a professional hoodoo doctor was less formal. Many claimed the ability to conjure was a gift (or occasionally affliction) from God or some other spiritual force. When such was the case, signs typically accompanied the conferral of such power. Among the more common indicators were being born with a caul or a being the seventh son of a seventh son. An additional common method of gaining supernatural ability was through inheritance. Prior to emancipation, for instance, having been born in Africa was an indicator of spiritual power. Descending from immediate ancestors who conjured was another source of supernatural aptitude that has been widely claimed since at least the late nineteenth century and probably long before. The famous New Orleans Voodoo priestess Marie Laveau supposedly passed her powers to at least one of her descendants. Dr. Buzzard, a renowned South Carolina hoodoo doctor, passed his practice to his son in law (Anderson 2005:45-47, 96-100).

Prior to the twentieth century, most hoodoo practitioners were African American, but with the rise of spiritual supply shops, increasing numbers of nonblacks entered this newly-commodified form of hoodoo. The most famous of all spiritual supply shops, New Orleans’ Cracker Jack Drugstore, for instance, was founded by a white man of Belgian descent (Long 2014:67). Beginning during the early twentieth century, many shop owners were recent Jewish immigrants who turned to the sale of hoodoo products as a way to make ends meet in a time when society judged them to be nonwhite and therefore worthy of discrimination (Anderson 2005:117-19). More recently, business owners of Latin American origin have become increasingly prominent as shops catering to practitioners of Latin

American religions like Santería have come to double as hoodoo shops, with a prime example being the recently closed F and F Bontanical and Candle Shop of New Orleans (Long 2001:70; Anderson 2005:144-46). [Image at right]

Whatever their race and regardless of whether they operated on a professional-client basis or as businesses selling spiritual goods to customers, hoodoo practitioners found their employment a lucrative profession. For example, Marie Laveau, while not wealthy, was well to do for an African American woman of her day, even possessing enough money to own slaves at times (Long 2006: 72-8). More than a generation later, Caroline Dye, a well-known conjure woman of Newport, Arkansas, reportedly died a wealthy woman (Wolf 1969). The same was true of Jim Jordan, one of the last widely known hoodoo doctors.  The profits from his practice allowed him to buy numerous farms, found a logging company, and trade in horses (Wolf 1969:117-21).

In addition to monetary rewards, hoodoo gave practitioners power in other forms. For example, hoodoo doctors with a reputation for success invariably gained influence over those individuals who respected and often feared them. Most often, the reputed power of conjurers impacted individual bondsperson. Some, including future antislavery activists Frederick Douglass and Henry Bibb, turned to hoodoo as a way to resist slavery by escaping punishment. Others turned to professional workers of supernaturalism as a way to give them control over mundane aspects of their lives that would be otherwise at the whims of fortune and their masters. A few went well beyond such one-on-one influence. A prime example was Gullah Jack, a hoodoo practitioner and Denmark Vesey’s lieutenant in an 1822 conspiracy to overthrow slavery. Several other conjurers helped lead revolts throughout the colonial and antebellum eras. Moreover, historical accounts indicate that whites frequently respected the power of conjurers as well, elevating these practitioners to a standing well above what others of their race could expect to achieve during a time when the vast majority of African Americans were held in bondage (Anderson 2005:86-87). Following emancipation, practitioners continued to be influential members of their society. One example of such importance was a conjurer encountered by Samuel C. Taylor near Tuscumbia, Tennessee. Though Taylor stopped short of ascribing any elected position to the man, he nonetheless stated that the hoodoo doctor was the most influential person in that portion of the state (Taylor 1890:80). The fact that people like Marie Laveau, Dr. Buzzard, and Caroline Dye survive in memory even today, many decades after their deaths, testifies to the level of influence attainable by those who chose hoodoo as a career.


Historically, hoodoo and related practices have been targets of legal suppression. In fact, the first supposed witch prosecuted in 1692 Salem was a slave who practiced what could be described as an early form of hoodoo. During the antebellum period, some slave owners worked to suppress hoodoo as a source of slave rebellion or individual aggression. To be sure, they had valid reasons to be afraid, considering that spells to sicken, kill, and otherwise harm were very much a part of conjurers’ arsenal and that some leaders of slave rebellions were themselves involved in forms of African supernaturalism. The most visible forms of such repression appeared in New Orleans, where it was common for police to break up Voodoo ceremonies on the grounds that they were illegal gatherings of slaves. In fact, the first of the city’s numerous news stories about the religion referenced it in an 1820 article entitled “Idolatry and Quackery,” which described the disruption of just such a meeting. At the same time, other whites held back from aggressive action because they, too, feared or respected the power of hoodoo practitioners (Anderson 2005:51-52, 56, 86-87; Long 2006:103-05). According to scholar Gladys-Marie Fry, some masters went so far as to encourage belief in supernaturalism as a way to control their bondspersons through fear (Fry 1975:59-81).

The abolition of slavery did not free hoodoo from opposition, however. During the post-Civil War decades, both whites and African Americans tended to understand it as a primitive relic of a past best forgotten. A representative nineteenth-century account, “Witchcraft among the Negroes,” appeared in an 1872 issue of Appleton’s Journal. Its tone can be easily gleaned from its opening, which reads,

All over the South, wherever the African has been settled, he has carried with him the belief in and practice of the necromancy known in Africa as obi, and throughout the southern states as voodooism, or “tricking.”

In vain have religion and the white man waged war against this relic of barbarism; it still flourishes, hydra-headed, and ever and anon the newspapers raise an outcry as some fresh instance of its power and diabolical results is brought to light (Handy 1872:666).

Some works went further than simply mocking the beliefs, positing it as a source of other social ills. Such was the case, for example, with the late nineteenth-century author of The Plantation Negro as a Freeman, who saw hoodoo as a force “to disorder labor” and to “disorganize the society of the race.” He likewise blamed conjurers for poisonings (Bruce 1889:120, 125).

In such a milieu, suppression continued. Though antebellum laws against slave gatherings were now as obsolete as the system they had supported, as with other aspects of Jim Crow America, racial beliefs adapted to preserve power in the hands of the white majority. At the same time, many well-meaning reformers and law enforcement agencies found themselves attacking hoodoo in their efforts to protect the public. For instance, in 1891, a doctor gave an impassioned plea for the Florida Medical Association to work to suppress what he called the “legalized crime” of allowing African American midwives to deliver babies. Part of his reason was that he was justifiably concerned about the lives of the women and infants affected by practitioners with faulty knowledge of human anatomy and childbirth. At the same time, he claimed that many African American midwives were unsuited for their profession because they relied on supernaturalism rather than science (Neal 1891:42, 46, 47, 48-49). A generation later, former South Carolina sheriff J.E. McTeer recounted his unsuccessful attempts to prosecute Dr. Buzzard for practicing medicine without a license (McTeer 1976:22-25). In addition to charges for the illicit practice of medicine, those practitioners and supply companies who shipped their wares through the postal system were liable to prosecution for mail fraud, which scholar Carolyn Morrow Long has described as the “greatest threat to the spiritual merchant” (Long 2001:129). To address these threats, many practitioners ceased preparing medicines, and users of the post began to shield themselves by denying that they made any claims for their products’ efficacy, appending disclaimers and words like “alleged” to names and descriptions of the products they sold (Anderson 2005:126).

Attempts to drive hoodoo from American society have greatly diminished in recent years, and in an effort to redress the injustices of the past, recent writings about hoodoo have tended to promote its embrace, downplaying its less-savory aspects, such as spells to cause illness or death, and interpreting conjure as a key aspect of what it means to be African American. Since the 1930s, when Harlem Renaissance author Zora Neale Hurston published “Hoodoo in America” and Mules and Men, interpreting conjure as a vital aspect of African American culture worthy of celebration, many scholars and authors of fiction have interpreted hoodoo in a similar light. Though Hurston wrote “Hoodoo in America” for a scholarly journal and Mules and Men as a folklore collection for a popular audience, its initial impact was greatest in the field of fiction. A host of authors, including but not limited to Alice Walker, Susheel Bibbs, Jewell Parker Rhodes, Arthur Flowers, and Ishmael Reed, have adopted the hoodoo doctor as a symbol of African American liberation. Moreover, the prose and poetry of these authors of fiction has become the primary guide for scholarship (Anderson 2019:69-81). A prime example is Katrina Hazzard-Donald’s 2013 book, Mojo Workin’: The Old African American Hoodoo System. In it, she follows in Hurston’s footsteps, interpreting hoodoo as religion that links black Americans to an African past. In addition, she interprets it is a force for liberation; links its best-known root curio, High John the Conqueror  (originally Indian turnip or Solomon’s seal but increasingly jalap following the rise of the spiritual supply industry), with Gaspar Yanga, a Maroon leader from the area of Xalapa, Mexico; and advocates for a purified hoodoo freed from the commodification so prevalent since the late nineteenth century (Hazzard-Donald 2013:4, 75-77, 179-85).

Regardless of whether one interprets hoodoo in a positive or negative light, it remains an important aspect of African American history and culture. Through the years, it has remained a constant of the African American experience. Moreover, though conjure is not as pervasive as in previous centuries, it shows no signs of disappearing.


Image #1: A Vodun ceremony from Tre, Benin.
Image #2: Offerings to the dead in a wall vault in New Orleans’ St. Louis No. 2 Cemetery.
Image #3: An artists’ impression of King Alexander, a late nineteenth-century hoodoo practitioner. Note that the depiction is a derogatory one, typical of the time. The image was drawn by either Juliette A. Owen or Louis Wain for Mary Alicia Owen’s 1893 book, Old Rabbit, the Voodoo and Other Sorcerers.
Image #4: The F and F Botanica and Candle shop, taken during the early twenty-first century.


Anderson, Jeffrey. 2019. “Guiding Myths: Zora Neale Hurston and Her Impact on Voodoo and Hoodoo Scholarship.” Pp. 69-83 in Voodoo, Hoodoo, and Conjure in African American Literature: Critical Essays, edited by James S. Mellis. Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, Inc.

Anderson, Jeffrey. 2008. Hoodoo, Voodoo, and Conjure: A Handbook. Westport, CT: Greenwood.

Anderson, Jeffrey. 2005. Conjure in African American Society. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press.

Bacon, A. M. 1895. “Conjuring and Conjure-Doctors.” Folk-Lore and Ethnology.  Southern Workman 24:193-94, 209-11.

Bass, Ruth. 1930. “Mojo: The Strange Magic That Works in the South Today.” Scribner’s Magazine 97:83-90.

Bell, Michael Edward. 1980. Pattern, Structure, and Logic in Afro-American Hoodoo Performance. Ph.D. Dissertation, Indiana University,

Bruce, Philip A. 1889. The Plantation Negro as a Freeman: Observations on His Character, Condition, and Prospects in Virginia. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons.

Cable, George Washington. 1886. “Creole Slave Songs.” The Century Magazine 31:807-828.

“Correspondence of the Free Trader.” 1849. Mississippi Free Trader and Natchez Gazette, August 25, p. 2.

Fray, Gladys-Marie. 1975. Night Riders in Black Folk History. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press.

Handy, M. P. 1872. “Witchcraft among the Negroes.” Appleton’s Journal: A Magazine of General Literature 8:666-67.

Hazzard-Donald, Katrina. 2013. Mojo Workin’: The Old African American Hoodoo System. Urbana: University of Illinois Press.

Hurston, Zora Neale. 1935. Mules and Men. Philadelphia, PA: J.B. Lippincott.

Hurston, Zora Neale. 1931. “Hoodoo in America.” The Journal of American Folklore 44:317-417.

Hyatt, Harry Middleton. 1970-78. Hoodoo-Conjuration-Witchcraft-Rootwork. 5 Volumes. Memoirs of the Alma Egan Hyatt Foundation. Hannibal, MO: Western Publishing Company

“Idolatry and Quackery.” 1820. Louisiana Gazette, August 16, p. 2.

Johnson, F. Roy. The Fabled Dr. Jim Jordan: A Story of Conjure. Murfreesboro, NC: Johnson Publishing.

Long, Carolyn Morrow. 2014. “The Cracker Jack: A Hoodoo Drugstore in the ‘Cradle of Jazz’.” Louisiana Cultural Vistas, Spring:64-75.

Long, Carolyn Morrow. 2006. A New Orleans Voudou Priestess: The Legend and Reality of Marie Laveau. Gainesville: University Press of Florida.

Long, Carolyn Morrow. 2001. Spiritual Merchants: Religion, Magic, and Commerce. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press.

McTeer, J. E. Fifty Years as a Low Country Witch Doctor. Columbia, SC: R. L. Bryan Company, 1976.

Neal, James C. 1891. “Legalized Crime in Florida” in Proceedings of the Florida Medical Association: Session of 1891. Jacksonville, FL: Times-Union, 1891.

Owen, Mary Alicia. 1893. Old Rabbit, the Voodoo and Other Sorcerers. With an introduction by Charles Godfrey Leland and illustrations by Juliette A. Owen and Louis Wain. London: T. Fisher Unwin.

Taylor, Samuel C. 1890. “A Hoodoo Doctor, 30 April 1890.” James S. Schoff Collection, William L. Clements Library, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor.

Wolf, John Quincy. 1969. “Aunt Caroline Dye: The Gypsy in St. Louis Blues.” Southern Folklore Quarterly 33, 339-46.

Publication Date:
8 May 2020