{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_32176/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_32176","id":"gutenberg_32176","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/32176","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - British","Category: History - Early Modern (c. 1450-1750)","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Witchcraft -- England","Witchcraft -- Great Britain","Witchcraft -- Scotland"],"text":"E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell and the Project Gutenberg Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images\ngenerously made available by Internet Archive/American Libraries\n(http://www.archive.org/details/americana)\n\n\n\nNote: Images of the original pages are available through\n      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See\n      http://www.archive.org/details/witchstories00lintrich\n\n\n\n\n\nWITCH STORIES\n\nCollected by\n\nE. LYNN LINTON,\n\nAuthor of \"Azeth the Egyptian,\" \"Amymone,\" Etc.\n\n\n\n\"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.\"--EXODUS XXII. 18.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLondon:\nChapman and Hall, 193 Piccadilly.\n1861.\n\n[_The right of Translation reserved._]\n\nLondon: Printed By W. Clowes and Sons, Stamford Street.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nIn offering the following collection of witch stories to the public, I do\nnot profess to have exhausted the subject, or to have made so complete a\nsummary as I might have done, had I been admitted into certain private\nlibraries, which contain, I believe, many concealed riches. But I had no\nmeans of introduction to them, and was obliged to be content with such\nauthorities as I found in the British Museum, and the other public\nlibraries to which I had access. I do not think that I have left much\nuntold; but there must be, scattered about England, old MSS. and unique\ncopies of records concerning which I can find only meagre allusions, or\nthe mere names of the victims, without a distinctive fact to mark their\nspecial history. Should this book come to a second edition, any help from\nthe possessors of these hitherto unpublished documents would be a gain to\nthe public, and a privilege which I trust may be afforded me.\n\nNeither have I attempted to enter into the philosophy of the subject. It\nis far too wide and deep to be discussed in a few hasty words; and to sift\nsuch evidence as is left us--to determine what was fraud, what\nself-deception, what actual disease, and what the exaggeration of the\nnarrator--would have swelled my book into a far more important and bulky\nwork than I intended or wished. As a general rule, I think we may apply\nall the four conditions to every case reported; in what proportion, each\nreader must judge for himself. Those who believe in direct and personal\nintercourse between the spirit-world and man, will probably accept every\naccount with the unquestioning belief of the sixteenth and seventeenth\ncenturies; those who have faith in the calm and uniform operations of\nnature, will hold chiefly to the doctrine of fraud; those who have seen\nmuch of disease and that strange condition called \"mesmerism,\" or\n\"sensitiveness,\" will allow the presence of absolute nervous derangement,\nmixed up with a vast amount of conscious deception, which the insane\ncredulity and marvellous ignorance of the time rendered easy to practise;\nand those who have been accustomed to sift evidence and examine witnesses,\nwill be utterly dissatisfied with the loose statements and wild distortion\nof every instance on record.\n\nE. LYNN LINTON.\n\n_London_, 1861.\n\n\n\n\nThe Witches of Scotland\n\n\nScotland was always foremost in superstition. Her wild hills and lonely\nfells seemed the fit haunting-places for all mysterious powers; and long\nafter spirits had fled, and ghosts had been laid in the level plains of\nthe South, they were to be found lingering about the glens and glades of\nScotland. Very little of graceful fancy lighted up the gloom of those\npopular superstitions. Even Elfame, or Faerie, was a place of dread and\nanguish, where the devil ruled heavy-handed and Hell claimed its yearly\ntithe, rather than the home of fun and beauty and petulant gaiety as with\nother nations: and the beautiful White Ladies, like the German Elle-women,\nhad more of bale than bliss as their portion to scatter among the sons of\nmen. Spirits like the goblin Gilpin Horner, full of malice and unholy\ncunning,--like grewsome brownies, at times unutterably terrific, at times\ngrotesque and rude, but then more satyr-like than elfish,--like May\nMoulachs, lean and hairy-armed, watching over the fortunes of a family,\nbut prophetic only of woe, not of weal,--like the cruel Kelpie, hiding\nbehind the river sedges to rush out on unwary passers-by, and strangle\nthem beneath the waters,--like the unsained laidly Elf, who came tempting\nChristian women, to their souls' eternal perdition if they yielded to the\ndesires of their bodies,--like the fatal Banshie, harbinger of death and\nruin,--were the popular forms of the Scottish spirit-world; and in none of\nthem do we find either love or gentleness, but only fierceness and crime,\nenmity to man and rebellion to God. But saddest and darkest and unholiest\nof all was the belief in witchcraft, which infested society for centuries\nlike a sore eating through to the very heart of humanity, and which was\nnowhere more bitter and destructive than among the godly children of our\nNorthern sister. Strange that the land of the Lord should have been the\nfavourite camping-ground of Satan, that the hill of Zion should have had\nits roots in the depths of Tophet!\n\nThe formulas of the faith were as gloomy as the persons. The power of the\nevil eye; the faculty of second sight, which always saw the hearse plumes,\nand never the bridal roses; the supremacy of the devil in this\nGod-governed world of ours, and the actual and practical covenant into\nwhich men and women daily entered with him; the unlimited influence of the\ncurse, and the sin and mischief to be wrought by charm and spell; the\npower of casting sickness on whomsoever one would, and the ease with which\na blight could be sent on the corn, and a murrain to the beasts, by those\nwho had not wherewithal to stay their hunger for a day, these were the\nchief signs of that fatal power with which Satan endowed his chosen\nones--those silly, luckless chapmen who bartered away their immortal souls\nfor no mess of pottage even, and no earthly good to breath or body, but\nonly that they might harm their neighbours and revenge themselves on those\nwho crossed them. Sometimes, indeed, they had no need to chaffer with the\ndevil for such faculties: as in the matter of the evil eye; for Kirk, of\nAberfoyle, tells us that \"some are of so venomous a Constitution, by being\nradiated in Envy and Malice, that they pierce and kill (like a Cockatrice)\nwhatever Creature they first set their Eyes on in the Morning: so was it\nwith Walter Grahame, some Time living in the Parock wherein now I am, who\nkilled his own Cow after commending its Fatness, and shot a Hair with his\nEyes, having praised its Swiftness (such was the Infection of ane Evill\nEye); albeit this was unusual, yet he saw no Object but what was obvious\nto other Men as well as to himselfe.\" And a certain woman looking over the\ndoor of a byre or cowhouse, where a neighbour sat milking, shot the calf\ndead and dried up and sickened the cow, \"by the venomous glance of her\nevill eye.\" But perhaps she had got that venom by covenant with the devil;\nfor this was one of the prescriptive possessions of a witch, and ever the\nfirst dole from the Satanic treasury. When Janet Irving was brought to\ntrial (1616) for unholy dealings with the foul fiend, it was proved--for\nwas it not sworn to? and that was quite sufficient legal proof in all\nwitchcraft cases--that he had told her \"yf schoe bure ill-will to onie\nbodie, to look on them with opin eyis, and pray evill for thame in his\nname, and schoe sould get hir hartis desyre;\" and in almost every witch\ntrial in Scotland the \"evil eye\" formed part of the counts of indictment\nagainst the accused. The curse was as efficacious. Did a foul-mouthed old\ndame give a neighbour a handful of words more forcible than courteous, and\ndid terror, or revenge, induce, or simulate, a nervous seizure in\nconsequence, the old dame was at once carried off to the lock-up, and but\nfew chances of escape lay between her and the stake beyond. To be skilful\nin healing, too, was just as dangerous as to be powerful in sickening; and\nto the godly and unclean of the period all sorts of devilish cantrips lay\nin \"south-running waters\" and herb drinks, and salves made of simples;\nwhile the use of bored stones, of prayers said thrice or backwards, of\n\"mwildis\" powders, or any other more patent form of witchcraft, though it\nmight restore the sick to health, yet was fatally sure to land the user\nthereof at the foot of the gallows, and the testimony of the healed friend\nwas the strongest strand in the hangman's cord. This, indeed, was the\nsaddest feature in the whole matter--the total want of all gratitude,\nreliance, trustiness, or affection between a \"witch\" and her friends. The\ndearest intimate she had gave evidence against her frankly, and without a\nsecond thought of the long years of mutual help and kindliness that had\ngone before; the neighbour whom she had nursed night and day with all\nimaginable tenderness and self-devotion, if he took a craze and dreamed of\nwitchcraft, came forward to distort and exaggerate every remedy she had\nused, and every art she had employed; her very children turned against her\nwithout pity or remorse, and little lips, scarce dry from the milk of her\nown breasts, lisped out the glibbest lies of all. Most pitiful, most sad,\nwas the state of these poor wretches; but instructive to us, as evidencing\nthe strength of superstition, and the weakness of every human virtue when\nbrought into contact and collision with it. What other gifts and powers\nbelonged to the witches will be best gathered from the stories themselves;\nfor varied as they are, there is a strange thread of likeness running\nthrough them all; specially is there a likeness in all of a time or\ndistrict, as might be expected in a matter which belonged so much to mere\nimitation.\n\nScotland played an unenviable part in the great witch panic that swept\nlike an epidemic over Europe during the sixteenth and seventeenth\ncenturies. It suited with the stern, uncompromising, Puritan temper, to\ntear this accursed thing from the heart of the nation, and offer it,\nbleeding and palpitating, as a sacrifice to the Lord; and accordingly we\nfind the witch trials of Scotland conducted with more severity than\nelsewhere, and with a more gloomy and savage fanaticism of faith. Those\nwho dared question the truth of even the most unreliable witnesses and the\nmost monstrous statements were accused of atheism and infidelity--they\nwere Sadducees and sinners--men given over to corruption and uncleanness,\nwith whom no righteous servant could hold any terms. And then the\nministers mingled themselves in the fray; and the Kirk like the Church,\nthe presbyter like the priest, proved to be on the side of intolerance and\nsuperstition, where, unfortunately, priests of all creeds have ever been.\nAnd when James VI. came with his narrow brain and selfish heart, to\nformularize the witch-lie into a distinct canon of arbitrary faith, and\ngive it increased political significance and social power, the reign of\nhumanity and common sense was at an end, and the autocracy of cruelty and\nsuperstition began. It is a dreary page in human history; but so long as a\nspark of superstition lingers in the world it will have its special and\ndirect uses.\n\nThe first time we hear of Scottish witches was when St. Patrick offended\nthem and the devil alike by his uncompromising rigour against them: so\nthey tore off a piece of a rock as he was crossing the sea and hurled it\nafter him; which rock became the fortress of Dumbarton in the days which\nknew not St. Patrick. Then there was the story of King Duff (968), who\npined away in mortal sickness, by reason of the waxen image which had\nbeen made to destroy him; but by the fortunate discovery of a young maiden\nwho could not bear torture silently, he was enabled to find the\nwitches--whom he burnt at Forres in Murray, the mother of the poor maiden\nwho could not bear torture among them: enabled, too, to save himself by\nbreaking the wasting waxen image roasting at the \"soft\" fire, when almost\nat its last turn. Then we come to Thomas of Ercildoune, whom the Queen of\nFaerie loved and kept; and then to Sir Michael Scot of Balweary, that\nfamous wizard, second to none in power; while a little further removed\nfrom those legendary times we see the dark figure of William Lord Soulis,\nwho was boiled to death at Nine Stane Brig, in fitting punishment for his\ncrimes. And then in 1479 twelve mean women and several wizards were burnt\nat Edinburgh for roasting the king in wax, and so endangering the life of\nthe sovereign liege in a manner which no human aid could remedy; and the\nEarl of Mar was at their head, and very properly burnt too. And in 1480\nIncubi and Succubi held the land between them, and even the young lady of\nMar gave herself up to the embraces of an Incubus--a hideous monster,\nutterly loathsome and deadly to behold; and if the young ladies of the\nnobility could do such things, what might not be expected from the\ncommonalty? But now we come out into the light of written history, and the\nfirst corpse lying on the threshold is that of the beautiful Lady Glammis\n(1537).\n\n\nTHE STORY OF LADY GLAMMIS[1]\n\nOne of the earliest, as she was one of the noblest, victims of this\ndelusion, politics and jealousy had as much to do with her death as had\nsuperstition. Because she was \"one of the Douglases,\" and not because she\nwas convicted as a sorceress, did William Lyon find her so easy a victim\nto his hate. For it was he--the near relative of her first husband,\n\"Cleanse the Causey\" John Lyon, Lord Glammis,--who ruined her, and brought\nher young days to so shameful an end. And had he not cause? Did she not\nreject him when left a widow, young and beautiful as but few were to be\nfound in all the Scottish land? and, rejecting him, did she not favour\nArchibald Campbell of Kessneath instead, and make over to him the lands\nand the beauties he had coveted for himself, even during the life of that\npuling relative of his, \"Cleanse the Causey\"? Matter enough for revenge in\nthis, thought William Lyon: and the revenge he took came easy to his hand,\nand in fullest measure. For Lady Glammis, daughter of George, Master of\nAngus, and grand-daughter of that brave old savage, Archibald\nBell-the-Cat, was in no great favour with a court which had disgraced her\ngrandfather, and banished her brother; and consequently she found no\nprotection there from the man who was seeking her ruin. Perhaps, too, she\nhad mixed herself up with the court feuds and parties then so common, and\nthus had given some positive cause of offence to a government which must\ncrush if it would not be crushed, and extirpate if it would not be\ndestroyed. Be that as it may, William Lyon soon gathered material for an\naccusation, and Lady Glammis found that if she would not have his love he\nwould have her life. She was accused on various counts; for having\nprocured the death of her first husband by \"intoxication,\" or unholy\ndrugging, for a design to poison the king, and for witchcraft generally,\nas a matter of daily life and open notoriety; and for these crimes she was\nburnt, notwithstanding her beauty and wealth and innocence and\nhigh-hearted bravery, notwithstanding her popularity--for she was beloved\nby all who knew her--and the honour of her stainless name. And once more,\nas so often, hatred conquered love, and the innocent died that the guilty\nmight be at rest.\n\nI must omit any lengthened notice of the trial of Janet Bowman in 1572, as\nalso of that of a notable witch Nicneven, which name, \"generally given to\nthe Queen of the Fairies, was probably bestowed upon her on account of her\ncrimes, and who, when 'her collore craig with stringis whairon wes mony\nknottis' was taken from her, gave way to despair, exclaiming, 'Now I have\nno hoip of myself,' saying, too, that 'she cared not whether she went to\nheaven or to hell.'\" The Record has preserved nothing beyond the mere\nfact of the first, while the foregoing extract is all that I can find of\nthe second; so that I am obliged to pass on to the pitiful tale of--\n\n\nBESSIE DUNLOP AND THOM REID.[2]\n\nPoor douce honest Bessie Dunlop, spouse to Andro Jak in Lyne, deposed,\nafter torture, on the 8th day of November, 1576, that one day, as she was\ngoing quietly enough between her own house and Monkcastle yard, \"makeand\nhevye sair dule with hirself,\" weeping bitterly for her cow that was\ndead, and her husband and child who were lying \"sick in the land-ill,\" she\nherself still weak after gissane, or child-birth, she met \"ane honest,\nwele, elderlie man, gray bairdit, and had ane gray coitt with Lumbart\nslevis of the auld fassoun; ane pair of gray brekis and quhyte schankis\ngartanit abone the kne; ane blak bonet on his heid, cloise behind and\nplane befoir, with silkin laissis drawin throw the lippis thairof; and ane\nquhyte wand in his hand.\" This was Thom Reid, who had been killed at the\nbattle of Pinkye (1547), but was now a dweller in Elfame, or Fairy Land.\nThom stopped her, saying, \"Gude day, Bessie.\" \"God speid yow, gude man,\"\nsays she. \"Sancta Marie,\" says he, \"Bessie, quhy makis thow sa grit dule\nand sair greting for ony wardlie thing?\" Bessie told him her troubles,\npoor woman, and the little old gray-bearded man consoled her by assuring\nher that though her cow and her child should die, yet her husband would\nrecover; and Bessie, after being \"sumthing fleit\" at seeing him pass\nthrough a hole in the dyke too narrow for any honest mortal to pass\nthrough, yet returned home, comforted to think that the gude man would\nmend. After this, she and Thom foregathered several times. At the third\ninterview he wanted her to deny her baptism, but honest Bessie said that\nshe would rather be \"revin at horis taillis\" (riven at horses' tails); and\non the fourth he came to her own house, and took her clean away from the\npresence of her husband and three tailors--they seeing nothing--to where\nan assemblage of eight women and four men were waiting for her. \"The men\nwer cled in gentilmennes clething, and the wemens had all plaidis round\nabout them, and wer verrie semelie lyke to se.\" They were the \"gude\nwychtis that wynnit (dwelt) in the court of Elfame,\" and they had come to\npersuade her to go back to fairy-land with them, where she should have\nmeat and clothing, and be richly dowered in all things. But Bessie\nrefused. Poor crazed Bessie had a loyal heart if but a silly head, and\npreferred her husband and children to all the substantial pleasures of\nElfame, though Thom was angry with her for refusing, and told her \"it\nwould be worse for her.\"\n\nOnce, too, the queen of the fairies, a stout, comely woman, came to her,\nas she was \"lying in gissane,\" and asked for a drink, which Bessie gave\nher. Sitting on her bed, she said that the child would die, but that the\nhusband would recover; for Andro Jak seems to have been but an ailing\nbody, often like to find out the Great Mysteries for himself, and Bessie\nwas never quite easy about him. Then Thom began to teach her the art of\nhealing. He gave her roots to make into salves and powders for kow or yow\n(cow or sheep), or for \"ane bairne that was tane away with ane evill blast\nof wind or elfgrippit:\" and she cured many people by the old man's fairy\nteaching. She healed Lady Johnstone's daughter, married to the young Laird\nof Stanelie, by giving her a drink brewed under Thom's auspices, namely,\nstrong ale boiled with cloves, ginger, aniseed, liquorice, and white\nsugar, which warmed the \"cauld blude that gaed about hir hart, that causit\nhir to dwam and vigous away,\" or, as we would say, to swoon. And she cured\nJohn Jake's bairn, and Wilson's of the town, and her gudeman's sister's\ncow; but old Lady Kilbowye's leg was beyond them both. It had been crooked\nall her life, and now Thom said it would never mend, because \"the march of\nthe bane was consumit, and the blude dosinit\" (the marrow was consumed,\nand the blood benumbed). It was hopeless, and it would be worse for her\nif she asked for fairy help again. Bessie got fame too as a \"monthly\" of\nLyne. A green silk lace, received from Thom's own hand, tacked to their\n\"wylie coitts\" and knit about their left arms, helped much in the delivery\nof women. She lost the lace, insinuating that Thom took it away again, but\nkept her fatal character for more medical skill than belonged to an\nordinary canny old wife. In the recovery of stolen goods, too, she was\neffective, and what she could not find she could at least indicate. Thus,\nshe told the seekers that Hugh Scott's cloak could not be returned,\nbecause it had been made into a kirtle, and that James Baird and Henry\nJameson would not recover their plough irons, because James Douglas, the\nsheriff's officer, had accepted a bribe of three pounds not to find them.\nLady Blair having \"dang and wrackit\" her servants on account of certain\nlinen which had been stolen from her, learnt from Bessie, prompted by\nThom, that the thief was no other than Margaret Symple, her own friend and\nrelation, and that she had dang and wrackit innocent persons to no avail.\nBessie never allowed that Thom's intercourse with her was other than\nhonest and well conducted. Once only he took hold of her apron to drag her\naway to Elfame with him; but this was more in the way of persuasion than\nlove making, and she indignantly denied the home questions put to her by\nthe judges with but scant delicacy or feeling for an honest woman's shame.\nInterrogated, she said that she often saw Thom going about like other men.\nHe would be in the streets of Edinburgh, on market days and other,\nhandling goods like any living body, but she never spoke to him unless he\nspoke first to her: he had forbidden her to do so. The last time she met\nhim before her arrest he told her of the evil that was to come, but\nbuoyed her up with false hopes, assuring her that she would be well\ntreated, and eventually cleared. Poor Bessie Dunlop! After being cruelly\ntortured, her not very strong brain was utterly disorganized, and she\nconfessed whatever they chose to tax her with, rambling through her wild\ndreamy narrative with strange facility of imagination, and with more\ncoherence and likelihood, than are to be found in those who came after\nher. Adjudged as \"confessit and fylit,\" she was \"convict and brynt\" on the\nCastle Hill of Edinburgh--a mournful commentary on her elfin friend's\nbrave words and promises.\n\n\nALISON PEARSON AND THE FAIRY FOLK.[3]\n\nOn the 28th of May, 1588, Alesoun Peirsoun, in Byrehill, was haled before\na just judge and sapient jury on the charge of witchcraft, and seven\nyears' consorting with the fairy folk. This Alesoun Peirsoun, or, as we\nshould now write it, Alison Pearson, had a certain cousin, one William\nSimpson, a clever doctor, who had been educated in Egypt; taken there by a\nman of Egypt, \"ane gyant,\" who, it is to be supposed, taught him many of\nthe secrets of nature then hidden from the vulgar world. During his\nabsence, his father, who was smith to king's majesty, died for opening of\n\"ane preist-buik and luking vpoune it:\" which showed the tendency of the\nfamily. When Mr. William came back he found Alison afflicted with many\ndiseases, powerless in hand and foot, and otherwise evilly holden; and he\ncured her, being a skilful man and a kindly, and ever after obtained\nunlimited influence over the brain and imagination of his crazed cousin.\nHe abused this influence by taking her with him to fairy land, and\nintroducing her to the \"gude wychtis,\" whose company he had affected for\nmany years. In especial was she much linked with the Queen of Elfame, who\nmight have helped her, had she been so minded. One day being sick in\nGrange Muir, she lay down there alone, when a man in green suddenly\nappeared to her and said that if she would be faithful he would do her\ngood. She cried for help, and then charged him in God's name, and by the\nlaw he lived on, that if he came in God's name and for the welfare of her\nsoul, he would tell her. He passed away on this, and soon after a lusty\nman, and many other men and women came to her, and she passed away with\nthem further than she could tell; but not before she had \"sanit,\" or\nblessed herself and prayed. And then she saw piping, and merriness, and\ngood cheer, and puncheons of wine with \"tassis,\" or cups to them. But the\nfairy folk were not kind to Alison. They tormented her sorely, and treated\nher with great harshness, knocking her about and beating her so that they\ntook all the \"poustie,\" or power out of her side with one of their heavy\n\"straiks,\" and left her covered with bruises, blue and evil-favoured. She\nwas never free from her questionable associates, who used to come upon her\nat all times and initiate her into their secrets, whether she liked it or\nno. They showed her how they gathered their herbs before sunrise, and she\nwould watch them with their pans and fires making the \"saws\" or salves\nthat could kill or cure all who used them, according to the witches' will;\nand they used to come and sit by her, and once took all the \"poustie\" from\nher for twenty weeks. Mr. William was then with them. He was a young man,\nnot six years older than herself, and she would \"feir\" (be afraid) when\nshe saw him. What with fairy teaching, and Mr. William's clinical\nlectures, half-crazed Alison soon got a reputation for healing powers; so\ngreat, indeed, that the Bishop of St. Andrews, a wretched hypochondriac,\nwith as many diseases as would fill half the wards of an hospital, applied\nto her for some of her charms and remedies, which she had sense enough to\nmake palateable, and such as should suit episcopal tastes: namely, spiced\nclaret (a quart to be drunk at two draughts), and boiled capon as the\ninternal remedies, with some fairy salve for outward application. It\nscarcely needed a long apprenticeship in witchcraft to prescribe claret\nand capon for a luxurious prelate who had brought himself into a state of\nchronic dyspepsia by laziness and high living; yet the jury thought the\nrecipe of such profound wisdom that Alison got badly off on its account.\n\nMr. William was very careful of Alison. He used to go before the fairy\nfolk when they set out on the whirlwinds to plague her--\"for they are ever\nin the blowing sea-wind,\" said Allie--and tell her of their coming; and he\nwas very urgent that she should not go away with them altogether, since a\ntithe of them was yearly taken down to hell, and converts had always first\nchance. But many people known to her on earth were at Elfame. She said\nthat she recognized Mr. Secretary Lethington, and the old Knight of\nBuccleugh, as of the party; which was equivalent to putting them out of\nheaven, and was a grievous libel, as the times went. Neither Mr. William's\ncare nor fairy power could save poor Alison. After being \"wirreit\n(strangled) at ane staik,\" she was \"conuicta et combusta,\" never more to\nbe troubled by epilepsy or the feverish dreams of madness.\n\n\nTHE CRIMES OF LADY FOWLIS.[4]\n\nNobler names come next upon the records. Katherine Roiss, Lady Fowlis, and\nher stepson, Hector Munro, were tried on the 22nd of June, 1590, for\n\"witchcraft, incantation, sorcery, and poisoning.\" Two people were in the\nlady's way: Margery Campbell the young lady of Balnagown, wife to George\nRoiss or Ross of Balnagown, Lady Katherine's brother; and Robert Munro her\nstepson, the present baron of Fowlis, and brother to the Hector Munro\nabove mentioned. If these two persons were dead, then George Ross could\nmarry the young Lady Fowlis, to the pecuniary advantage of himself and the\nfamily. Hector's quarrel was on his own account, and was with George Munro\nof Obisdale, Lady Katherine's eldest son. The charges against the Lady\nKatherine were, the unlawful making of two pictures or images of clay,\nrepresenting the young lady of Balnagown and Robert Munro, which pictures\ntwo notorious witches, Christian Ross and Marioune M'Alester, _alias_\nLoskie Loncart, set up in a chamber and shot at with elf arrows--ancient\nspear or arrow-heads, found in Scotland and Ireland, and of great account\nin all matters of witchcraft. But the images of clay were not broken by\nthe arrow-heads, for all that they shot eight times at them, and twelve\ntimes on a subsequent trial, and thus the spell was destroyed for the\nmoment; but Loskie Loncart had orders to make more, which she did with a\nwill. After this the lady and her two confederates brewed a stoup or\npailful of poison in the barn at Drumnyne, which was to be sent to Robert\nMunro. The pail leaked and the poison ran out, except a very small\nquantity which an unfortunate page belonging to the lady tasted, and \"lay\ncontinewallie thaireftir poysonit with the liquour.\" Again, another \"pig\"\nor jar of poison was prepared; this time of double strength--the brewer\nthereof that old sinner, Loskie Loncart, who had a hand in every evil pie\nmade. This was sent to the young laird by the hands of Lady Katherine's\nfoster-mother; but she broke the \"pig\" by the way, and, like the page,\ntasting the contents, paid the penalty of her curiosity with her life. The\npoison was of such a virulent nature that nor cow nor sheep would touch\nthe grass whereon it fell; and soon the herbage withered away in fearful\nmemorial of that deed of guilt. She was more successful in her attempts on\nthe young Lady Balnagown. Her \"dittay\" sets forth that the poor girl,\ntasting of her sister-in-law's infernal potions, contracted an incurable\ndisease, the pain and anguish she suffered revolting even the wretch who\nadministered the poison, Catherine Niven, who \"scunnerit (revolted) with\nit sae meikle, that she said it was the sairest and maist cruel sight that\never she saw.\" But she did not die. Youth and life were strong in her, and\nconquered even malice and poison--conquered even the fiendish\ndetermination of the lady, \"that she would do, by all kind of means,\nwherever it might be had, of God in heaven, or the devil in hell, for the\ndestruction and down-putting of Marjory Campbell.\" Nothing daunted, the\nlady sent far and wide, and now openly, for various poisons; consulting\nwith \"Egyptians\" and notorious witches as to what would best \"suit the\ncomplexion\" of her victims, and whether the ratsbane, which was a\nfavourite medicine with her, should be administered in eggs, broth, or\ncabbage. She paid many sums, too, for clay images, and elf arrows\nwherewith to shoot at them, and her wickedness at last grew too patent for\neven her exalted rank to overshadow. She was arrested and arraigned, but\nthe private prosecutor was Hector Munro, who was soon to change his place\nof advocate for that of \"pannel;\" and the jury was composed of the Fowlis\ndependents. So she was acquitted; though many of her creatures had\npreviously been convicted and burnt on the same charges as those now made\nagainst her; notably Cristiane Roiss, who, confessing to the clay image\nand the elf arrows, was quietly burnt for the same.\n\nHector Munro's trial was of a somewhat different character. His stepmother\ndoes not seem to have had much confidence in mere sorcery: she put her\nfaith in facts rather than in incantations, and preferred drugs to charms:\nbut Hector was more superstitious and more cowardly too. In 1588, he had\ncommuned with three notorious witches for the recovery of his elder\nbrother, Robert; and the witches had \"pollit the hair of Robert Munro, and\nplet the naillis of his fingeris and taes;\" but Robert had died in spite\nof these charms, and now Hector was the chief man of his family. Parings\nof nails, clippings of hair, water wherein enchanted stones had been laid,\nblack Pater-Nosters, banned plaids and cloths, were all of as much potency\nin his mind as the \"ratoun poysoun\" so dear to the lady; and the method of\nhis intended murder rested on such means as these. They made a goodly pair\nbetween them, and embodied a fair proportion of the intelligence and\nmorality of the time. After a small piece of preliminary sorcery,\nundertaken with his foster-mother, Cristiane Neill Dayzell, and Mariaoune\nM'Ingareach, \"one of the most notorious and rank witches of the country,\"\nit was pronounced that Hector, who was sick, would not recover, unless\nthe principal man of his blood should suffer for him. This was found to be\nnone other than George Munro, of Obisdale, Lady Katherine's eldest son,\nwhose life must be given that Hector's might be redeemed. George, then,\nmust die; not by poison but by sorcery; and the first step to be taken was\nto secure his presence by Hector's bedside. \"Sewin poistes\" or messengers\ndid the invalid impatiently send to him; and when he came at last, Hector\nsaid never a word to him, after his surly \"Better now that you have come,\"\nin answer to his half-brother's unsuspecting \"How's a' wi' ye?\" but sat\nfor a full hour with his left hand in George's right, working the first\nspell in silence, according to the directions of his foster-mother and the\nwitch. That night, an hour after midnight, the two women went to a \"piece\nof ground lying between two manors,\" and there made a grave of Hector's\nlength, near to the sea-flood. A few nights after this--and it was\nJanuary, too--Hector, wrapped in blankets, was carried out of his sick\nbed, and laid in this grave; he, his foster-mother, and M'Ingareach all\nsilent as death, until Cristiane should have gotten speech with their\nmaster, the devil. The sods were then laid over the laird, and the witch\nM'Ingareach sat down by him, while Cristiane Dayzell, with a young boy in\nher hand, ran the breadth of nine rigs or furrows, coming back to the\ngrave, to ask the witch \"who was her choice.\" M'Ingareach, prompted of\ncourse by the devil, answered that \"Mr. Hector was her choice to live and\nhis brother George to die for him.\" This ceremony was repeated thrice, and\nthen they all returned silently to the house, Mr. Hector carried in his\nblankets as before. The strangest thing of all was that Mr. Hector was not\nkilled by the ceremony.\n\nHector Munro was now convinced that everything possible had been done, and\nthat his half-brother must perforce be his sacrifice. In his gratitude he\nmade M'Ingareach keeper of his sheep, and so uplifted her that the common\npeople durst not oppose her for their lives. It was the public talk that\nhe favoured her \"gif she had been his own wife;\" and once he kept her out\nof the way \"at his own charges,\" when she was cited to appear before the\ncourt to answer to the crime of witchcraft. But in spite of the tremendous\nevidence against him, Hector got clear off, as his stepmother had done\nbefore him, and we hear no more of the Fowlis follies and the Fowlis\ncrimes. Nothing but their rank and the fear of the low people saved them.\nSlighter crimes than theirs, and on more slender evidence, had been\nsufficient cause for condemnation ere now; and Lady Katherine's\npoisonings, and Hector Munro's incantations, would have met with the fate\nthe one at least deserved, save for the power and aid of clanship.\n\n\nBESSIE ROY.\n\nThe month after this trial, Bessie Roy, nurreych (nurse) to the Leslies of\nBalquhain, was \"dilatit\" for sorcery generally, and specially for being \"a\ncommon awa-taker of women's milk.\" She took away poor Bessie Steel's, when\nshe came to ask alms, and only restored it again when she was afraid of\ngetting into trouble for the fault. She was also accused of having, \"by\nthe space of tual yeiris syne or thairby,\" past to the field with other\nwomen to pluck lint, but instead of following her lawful occupation, she\nhad made \"ane compas (circle) in the eird, and ane hoill in the middis\nthairof;\" out of which hole came, first, a great worm which crept over\nthe boundary, then a little worm, which crept over it also, and last of\nall another great worm, \"quhill could nocht pas owre the compas, nor cum\nout of the hoill, but fell doune and deit.\" Which enchantment or sorcery\nbeing interpreted meant, by the first worm, William King, who should live;\nby the second small worm, the unborn babe, of which no one yet knew the\ncoming life; and by the third large worm the gude wyffe herself, who\nshould die as soon as she was delivered. Notwithstanding the gravity and\ncircumstantiality of these charges, Bessie Roy marvellously escaped the\nallotted doom, and was pronounced innocent. \"Quhairvpoune the said Bessie\naskit act and instrument.\" Two women tried the day before, Jonet Grant and\nJonet Clark, were less fortunate. Charged with laming men and women by\ntheir devilish arts--whereof was no attempt at proof--they were convicted\nand burnt; as also was Meg Dow, in April of the same year, for the\n\"crewell murdreissing of twa young infant bairns,\" by magic.\n\nAnd now we come to a very singular group of trials, opened out by that\nclumsy, superstitious pedant, whose name stands accursed for vice and\ncruel cowardice and the utmost selfishness of fear--James VI. of Scotland.\nIf anything were wanting to complete one's abhorrence of Carr's patron and\nRaleigh's murderer--one's contempt of the upholder of the divine right of\nkings in his own self-adoration as God's vicegerent upon earth--it would\nbe his part in the witch delusion of the sixteenth century. Whatever of\nblood-stained folly belonged specially to the Scottish trials of this\ntime--and hereafter--owed its original impulse to him; and every groan of\nthe tortured wretches driven to their fearful doom, and every tear of the\nsurvivors left blighted and desolate to drag out their weary days in\nmingled grief and terror, lie on his memory with shame and condemnation\nineffaceable for all time.\n\n\nTHE DEVIL'S SECRETARY.[5]\n\nOn the 26th of December, 1590, John Fian, _alias_ Cuningham (spelt Johanne\nFeane, _alias_ Cwninghame), master of the school at Saltpans, Lothian, and\ncontemptuously recorded as \"Secretar and Register to the Devil,\" was\narraigned for witchcraft and high treason. There were twenty counts\nagainst him, the least of which would have been enough to have lighted up\na witch-fire on that fatal Castle Hill, for the bravest and best in the\nland. First, he was accused of entering into a covenant with Satan, who\nappeared to him in white, as he lay in bed, musing and thinking (\"mwsand\nand pansand,\" says the dittay in its quaint language) how he should be\nrevenged on Thomas Trumbill, for not having whitewashed his room,\naccording to agreement. After promising his Satanic majesty allegiance and\nhomage, he received his mark, which later was found under his tongue, with\ntwo pins therein thrust up to their heads. Again, he was found\nguilty--\"fylit\" is the old legal term--of \"feigning himself to be sick in\nthe said Thomas Trumbill's chamber, where he was stricken in great\necstacies and trances, lying by the space of two or three hours dead, his\nspirit taken, and suffered himself to be carried and transported to many\nmountains, as he thought through all the world, according to his\ndepositions.\" Note, that these depositions were made in the midst of\nfearful torture, and recanted the instant after. Also, he was found\nguilty of suffering himself to be carried to North Berwick church, where,\ntogether with many others, he did homage to Satan, as he stood in the\npulpit, making doubtful speeches, saying, \"Many come to the fair, and all\nbuy not wares;\" and desired him \"not to fear, though he was grim, for he\nhad many servants who should never want, or ail nothing, so long as their\nhair was on, and should never let one tear fall from their eyes so long as\nthey served him;\" and he gave them lessons, and said, \"Spare not to do\nevil, and to eat and drink and be blithe, taking rest and ease, for he\nshould raise them up at the latter day gloriously.\" But the pith of the\nindictment was that he, Fian, and sundry others to be spoken of hereafter,\nentered into a league with Satan to wreck the king on his way to Denmark,\nwhither, in a fit of clumsy gallantry, he had set out to visit his future\nqueen. While he was sailing to Denmark, Fian and a whole crew of witches\nand wizards met Satan at sea, and the master, giving an enchanted cat into\nRobert Grierson's hand, bade him \"cast the same into the sea, hola,\" which\nwas accordingly done; and a pretty capful of wind the consequence. Then,\nwhen the king was returning from Denmark, the devil promised to raise a\nmist which should wreck him on English ground. To perform which feat he\ntook something like a football--it seemed to Dr. Fian like a wisp--and\ncast it into the sea, whereupon arose the great mist which nearly drove\nthe cumbrous old pedant on to English ground, where our strong-fisted\nqueen would have made him pay for his footing in a manner not quite\ncongenial to his tastes. But, being a Man of God, none of these charms and\ndevilries prevailed against him. A further count was, that once again he\nconsorted with Satan and his crew, still in North Berwick church, where\nthey paced round the church wider shins (wider scheins?), that is,\ncontrary to the way of the sun. Fian blew into the lock--a favourite trick\nof his--to open the door, and blew in the lights which burned blue, and\nwere like big black candles held in an old man's hand round about the\npulpit. Here Satan as a \"mekill blak man, with ane blak baird stikand out\nlyke ane gettis (goat's) baird; and ane hie ribbit neise, falland doun\nscharp lyke the beik of ane halk; with ane lang rumpill (tail); cled in\nane blak tatie goune, and ane ewill favorit scull bonnett on his heid;\nhaifand ane blak buik in his hand,\" preached to them, commanding them to\nbe good servants to him, and he would be a good master to them, and never\nlet them want. But he made them all very angry by calling Robert Grierson\nby his Christian name. He ought to have been called \"Ro' the Comptroller,\nor Rob the Rower.\" This slip of the master's displeased them sorely, and\nthey ran \"hirdie girdie\" in great excitement, for it was against all\netiquette to be named by their earthly names; indeed, they always received\nnew names when the devil gave them their infernal christening, and they\nmade themselves over to him and denied their holy baptism. It was at this\nmeeting that John Fian was specially accused of rifling the graves of the\ndead, and dismembering their bodies for charms. And many other things did\nthis Secretar and Register to the devil. Once, at the house of David\nSeaton's mother, he breathed into the hand of a woman sitting by the fire,\nand opened a lock at the other end of the kitchen. Once he raised up four\ncandles on his horse's two ears, and a fifth on the staff which a man\nriding with him carried in his hand. These magic candles gave as much\nlight as the sun at noonday, and the man was so terrified that he fell\ndead on his own threshold. He sent an evil spirit, who tormented a man for\ntwenty weeks; and he was seen to chase a cat, and in the chase to be\ncarried so high over a hedge that he could not touch her head. The dittay\nsays he flew through the air--a not infrequent mode of progression with\nsuch people. When asked why he hunted the cat, he said that Satan had need\nof her, and that he wanted all the cats he could lay hands on, to cast\ninto the sea, and cause storms and shipwrecks. He was further accused of\nendeavouring to bewitch a young maiden by his devilish cantrips and horrid\ncharms; but, by a wile of the girl's mother, up to men's arts, he\npractised on a heifer's hairs instead of the girl's, and the result was\nthat a luckless young cow went lowing after him everywhere--even into his\nschool-room--rubbing herself against him, and exhibiting all the languish\nand desire of a love-sick young lady. A curious old plate represents John\nFian and the heifer in grotesque attitudes; the heifer with large,\ndrooping, amorous eyes, intensely ridiculous--the schoolmaster with his\nmagic wand drawing circles in the sand. These, with divers smaller\ncharges, such as casting horoscopes, and wearing modewart's (mole's) feet\nupon him, amounting in all to twenty counts, formed the sum of the\nindictment against him. He was put to the torture. First, his head was\n\"thrawed with a rope\" for about an hour, but still he would not confess;\nthen they tried fair words and coaxed him, but with no better success; and\nthen they put him to the \"most severe and cruell pains in the worlde,\"\nnamely, the boots, till his legs were completely crushed, and the blood\nand marrow spouted out. After the third stroke he became speechless; and\nthey, supposing it to be the devil's mark which kept him silent, searched\nfor that mark, that by its discovery the spell might be broken. So they\nfound it, as stated before, under his tongue, with two charmed pins stuck\nup to their heads therein. When they were drawn out--that is, after some\nfurther torture--he confessed anything which it pleased his tormentors to\ndemand of him, saying how, just now, the devil had been to him all in\nblack, but with a white wand in his hand; and how, on his, Fian's,\nrenouncing him, he had brake his wand, and disappeared. The next day he\nrecanted this confession. He was then somewhat restored to himself, and\nhad mastered the weakness of his agony. Whereupon it was assumed that the\ndevil had visited him through the night, and had marked him afresh. They\nsearched him--pulling off every nail with a turkas, or smith's pincers,\nand then thrusting in needles up to their heads; but finding nothing more\nsatanic than blood and nerves, they put him to worse tortures, as a\nrevenge. He made no other relapse, but remained constant now to the end;\nbearing his grievous pains with patience and fortitude, and dying as a\nbrave man always knows how to die, whatever the occasion. Finding that\nnothing more could be made of him, they mercifully came to an end. He was\nstrangled and burnt \"in the Castle Hill of Edinbrough, on a Saterdaie, in\nthe ende of Januarie last past 1591;\" ending a may be loose and not\nover-heroic life in a manner worthy of the most glorious martyr of\nhistory. John Fian, schoolmaster of Saltpans, with no great idea to\nsupport him, and no admiring friends to cheer him on, bore himself as\nnobly as any hero of them all, and vindicated the honour of manhood and\nnatural strength in a way that exalts our common human nature into\nsomething godlike and divine.\n\n\nTHE GRACE WIFE OF KEITH AND HER CUMMERS.[6]\n\nFian was the first victim in the grand battue offered now to the royal\nwitchfinder; others were to follow, the manner of whose discovery was\nsingular enough. Deputy Bailie David Seaton of Tranent, had a half-crazed\nservant-girl, one Geillis Duncan, whose conduct in suddenly taking \"in\nhand to helpe all such as were troubled or grieved with anie kinde of\nsicknes or infirmitie,\" excited the righteous suspicions of her master. To\nmake sure he tortured her, without trial, judge, or jury; first, by the\n\"pillie-winks\" or thumbscrews, and then by \"thrawing,\"--wrenching, or\nbinding her head with a rope--an intensely agonizing process, and one that\ngenerally comes in as part of the service of justice done to witch and\nwizard. Not confessing, even under these persuasions, she was \"searched,\"\nand the mark was found on her throat: whereupon she at once confessed;\naccusing, among others, the defunct John Fian, or Cuningham, Agnes Sampson\nat Haddington, \"the eldest witch of them all,\" Agnes Tompson of Edinburgh,\nand Euphemia Macalzean, daughter of Lord Cliftonhall, one of the senators\nof the College of Justice. Agnes Sampson's trial came first. She was a\ngrave, matronlike, well-educated woman, \"of a rank and comprehension above\nthe vulgar, grave and settled in her answers, which were to some purpose,\"\nand altogether a woman of mark and character. She was commonly called the\n\"grace wyff\" or \"wise wyff\" of Keith; and, doubtless, her superior\nreputation brought on her the fateful notice of the half-crazed girl; also\nit procured her the doubtful honour of being carried to Holyrood, there to\nbe examined by the king himself. At first she quietly and firmly denied\nall that she was charged with, but after having been fastened to the\nwitches' bridle,[7] kept without sleep, her head shaved and thrawn with a\nrope, searched, and pricked, she, too, confessed whatever blasphemous\nnonsense her accusers chose to charge her with, to the wondrous\nedification of her kingly inquisitor. She said that she and two hundred\nother witches went to sea on All-Halloween, in riddles or sieves, making\nmerry and drinking by the way: that they landed at North Berwick church,\nwhere, taking hands, they danced around, saying--\n\n  \"Commer goe ye before! commer goe ye!\n  Gif ye will not goe before, commer let me!\"\n\n\nHere they met the devil, like a mickle black man, as John Fian had said,\nand he marked her on the right knee; and this was the time when he made\nthem all so angry by calling Robert Grierson by his right name, instead of\nRob the Rower, or Ro' the Comptroller. When they rifled the graves, as\nFian had said, she got two joints, a winding-sheet, and an enchanted ring\nfor love-charms. She also said that Geillis Duncan, the informer, went\nbefore them, playing on the Jew's harp, and the dance she played was\nGyllatripes; which so delighted gracious Majesty, greedy of infernal news,\nthat he sent on the instant to Geillis, to play the same tune before him;\nwhich she did \"to his great pleasure and amazement.\" Furthermore, Agnes\nSampson confessed that, on asking Satan why he hated King James, and so\ngreatly wished to destroy him, the foul fiend answered: \"Because he is the\ngreatest enemy I have;\" adding, that he was \"un homme de Dieu,\" and that\nSatan had no power against him. A pretty piece of flattery, but availing\nthe poor wise wife nothing as time went on. Her indictment was very heavy;\nfifty-three counts in all; for the most part relating to the curing of\ndisease by charm and incantation, and to foreknowledge of sickness or\ndeath. Thus, she took on herself the sickness of Robert Kerse in Dalkeith,\nthen cast it back, by mistake, on Alexander Douglas, intending it for a\ncat or a dog: and she put a powder containing dead men's bones under the\npillow of Euphemia Macalzean, when in the pains of childbirth, and so got\nher safely through. As she went on, and grew more thoroughly weakened in\nmind and body, she owned to still more monstrous things. Item, to having a\nfamiliar, in shape of a dog by name Elva, whom she called to her by \"Hola!\nmaster!\" and conjured away \"by the law he lived on.\" This dog or devil\nonce came so near to her that she was \"fleyt,\" but she charged him by the\nlaw he lived on to come no nearer to her, but to answer her\nhonestly--\"Should old Lady Edmistoune live?\" \"Her days were gane,\" said\nElva; \"and where were the daughters?\" \"They said they would be there,\"\nsaid Agnes. He answered, one of them should be in peril, and that he\nshould have one of them. \"It sould nocht be sa,\" cried the wise wife; so\nhe growled and went back into the well. Another time she brought him forth\nout of the well to show to Lady Edmistoune's daughters, and he frightened\nthem half to death, and would have devoured one of them had not Agnes and\nthe rest gotten a grip of her and drawn her back. She sent a letter to\nMarian Leuchope, to raise a wind that should prevent the queen from\ncoming; and she caused a ship, 'The Grace of God,' to perish--the devil\ngoing before, while she and the rest sailed over in a flat boat, entered\nunseen, ate of the best, and swamped the vessel afterwards. For helping\nher in this nefarious deed, she gave twenty shillings to Grey Meill, \"ane\nauld, sely, pure plowman,\" who usually kept the door at the witches'\nconventions, and who had attended her in this shipwreck adventure. Then,\nshe was one of the foremost and most active in the celebrated\nstorm-raising for the destruction, or at least the damage of the king on\nhis return from Denmark; giving some curious particulars in addition to\nwhat we have already had in Fian's indictment; as, that she and her sister\nwitches baptized the cat by which they raised the storm, by putting it,\nwith various ceremonies, thrice through the chimney crook. \"Fyrst twa of\nthame held ane fingar, in the ane syd of the chimnay cruik, and ane vther\nheld ane vther fingar in the vther syd, the twa nebbis of the fingaris\nmeting togidder; than they patt the catt thryis throw the linkis of the\ncruik, and passit it thryis vnder the chimnay;\" afterwards they knit four\ndead men's joints to the four feet of the cat, and cast it into the sea,\nready now to work any amount of mischief that Satan might command. Then\nshe made a \"picture,\" or clay image, of Mr. John Moscrop, father-in-law to\nEuphemia Macalzean, to destroy him, at the said Euphemia's desire. She was\nalso at all the famous North Berwick meetings, where Dr. Fian was\nsecretary, registrar, and lock-opener; where they were baptized of the\nfiend, and received formally into his congregation; where he preached to\nthem as a great black man; and where they rifled graves and meted out the\ndead among them. She also confessed to taking a black toad, and hanging\nhim up by his heels, collecting all his venom in an oyster shell for three\ndays, and she told the king that it was then she wanted his fouled linen,\nwhen she would have enchanted him to death--but she never got it. She had\ntwo Pater Nosters, the white and the black. The white ran thus:--\n\n  \"White Pater Noster,\n  God was my Foster,\n  He fostered me,\n  Under the Book of Palm Tree.\n  Saint Michael was my Dame,\n  He was born at Bethlehem,\n  He was made of flesh and blood,\n  God send me my right food:\n  My right food and dyne two\n  That I may to yon kirk go,\n  To read upon yon sweet book,\n  Which the mighty God of Heaven shoop.\n  Open, open, Heaven's yaits,\n  Stick, stick, Hell's yaits.\n  All Saints be the better,\n  That hear the white prayer Pater Noster.\"\n\n\nThere was no harm in this doggerel, nor yet much good; little of blessing,\nif less of banning; nor was the Black more definite. It was shorter, which\nought to have ranked as a merit:--\n\n         Black Pater Noster.\n  \"Four newks in this house, for holy angels,\n  A post in the midst, that's Christ Jesus,\n  Lucas, Marcus, Matthew, Joannes,\n  God be into this house and all that belongs us.\"\n\n\nTo \"sain\" or charm her bed she used to say,--\n\n  \"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John\n  The bed be blest that I ly on.\"\n\nAnd when the butter was slow in coming, it was enough if she chanted\nslowly--\n\n  \"Come, butter, come!\n  Come, butter, come!\n  Peter stands at the gate.\n  Waiting for a buttered cake,\n  Come, butter, come,\"\n\nsaid with faith and unction, she was sure to have at once a lucky\nchurn-full.\n\nThese queer bits of half-papistical, half-nonsensical doggerel were\nconsidered tremendous sins in those days, and the use of them was quite\nsufficient to bring any one to the scaffold; as their application would,\nfor a certainty, destroy health, and gear, and life, if it were so willed.\nAnd for all these crimes--storm-raising, cat-baptizing, and the\nrest--Agnes Sampson, the grave, matronlike, well-educated grace wife of\nKeith, was bound to a stake, strangled, and burnt on the Castle Hill, with\nno one to seek to save her, and no one to bid her weary soul God-speed!\n\nBarbara Napier, wife to a burgess of Edinburgh, and sister-in-law to the\nLaird of Carschoggill, was then seized--accused of consorting with Agnes\nSimpson, and consulting with Richard Grahame, a notorious necromancer, to\nwhom she gave \"3 ells of bombezie for his paynes,\" all that she might gain\nthe love and gifts of Dame Jeane Lyon, Lady Angus; also of having procured\nthe witch's help to keep the said Dame Jeane \"fra wometing quhen she was\nin bredin of barne.\" She was accused of other and more malicious things;\nbut acquitted of these: indeed the \"assisa\" which tried her was\ncontumacious and humane, and pronounced no doom; whereon King James wrote\na letter demanding that she be strangled, then burnt at the stake, and all\nher goods escheated to himself. But Barbara pleaded that she was with\nchild; so her execution was delayed until she was delivered, when \"nobody\ninsisting in the persute of her, she was set at libertie.\" The\ncontumacious majority was tried for \"wilful error on assize--acquitting a\nwitch,\" but got off with more luck than usual.[8]\n\nEuphemia Macalzean,[9] or as we should say, Maclean, was even higher game.\nShe was the daughter of Lord Cliftonhall, and wife of Patrick Moscrop, a\nman of wealth and standing; a firm, passionate, heroic woman, whom no\ntortures could weaken into confession, no threats terrify into submission.\nShe fought her way, inch by inch, but she was \"convict\" at last, and\ncondemned to be burnt alive: the severest sentence ever pronounced against\na witch. In general they were \"wirreit\" or strangled before being burnt.\nThere is good reason to believe that her witchcraft was made merely the\npretence, while her political predilections, her friendship for the Earl\nof Bothwell, and her Catholic religion, were the real grounds of the\nking's enmity to her, and the causes of the severity with which she was\ntreated. Her indictment contains the ordinary list of witch-crimes,\ndiversified with the additional charge of bewitching a certain young\nJoseph Douglas, whose love she craved and found impossible to obtain, or\nrather, to retain. She was accused of giving him, for unlawful purposes,\n\"ane craig cheinzie (neck chain), twa belt cheinzies, ane ring, ane\nemiraut,\" and other jewels; trying also to prevent his marriage with Marie\nSandilands, and making Agnes Simpson get back the jewels, when her spells\nhad failed. The young wife whom Douglas married, and the two children she\nbore him, also came in for part of her alleged maleficent enchantments.\nShe \"did the barnes to death,\" and struck the wife with deadly sickness.\nShe was also accused of casting her own childbirth pains, once on a dog,\nand once on the \"wantoune cat;\" whereupon the poor beasts ran distractedly\nout of the house, as well they might, and were never seen again. She\nmanaged this marvellous piece of sleight-of-hand by getting a bored stone\nfrom Agnes Sampson, and rolling \"enchanted mwildis\"--earth from dead men's\ngraves--in her hair. Another time she got her husband's shirt, and caused\nit to be \"woumplit\" (folded up) and put under her bolster, whereby she\nsought to throw her labour pains upon him, but without effect; as is not\nto be wondered at. She bewitched John M'Gillie's wife by sending her the\nvision of a naked man, with only a white sheet about him; and Jonett\nAitcheson saw him with the sleeves of his shirt \"vpoune leggis, and taile\nabout his heid.\" She was also accused of endeavouring to poison her\nhusband; and it was manifest that their union was not happy--he being for\nthe most part away from home, and she perhaps thinking of the other\nhusband promised her, Archibald Ruthven; which promise, broken and set\naside, had made such a slander and scandal of her marriage with Patrick\nMoscrop. And it was proved--or what went for proof in those days--that\nAgnes Sampson, the wise wife, had made a clay image of John Moscrop, the\nfather-in-law, who should thereupon have pined away and died, according to\nthe law of these enchantments, but, failing in this obedience, lived\ninstead, to the grief and confusion of his daughter-in-law. All these\ncrimes, and others like unto them, were quite sufficient legal causes of\ndeath; and James could gratify his superstitious fears and political\nanimosity at the same time, while Euphemia Maclean--the fine, brave,\nhandsome Euphemia--writhed in agony at the stake to which she was bound\nwhen burned alive in the flames: \"brunt in assis quick to the deid,\" says\nthe Record--the severest sentence ever passed on a witch. This murder was\ndone on the 25th July, 1591.\n\n\"The last of Februarie, 1592, Richard Grahame wes brant at y{e} Cross of\nEdinburghe for vitchcrafte and sorcery,\" says succinctly Robert Birrel,\n\"burges of Edinburghe,\" in his \"Diarey containing divers Passages of\nStaite and uthers memorable Accidents, from y{e} 1532 zeir of our\nRedemption, till y{e} beginning of the zeir 1605.\" \"And in 1593, Katherine\nMuirhead was brunt for vitchcrafte, quha confest sundrie poynts yrof.\"\nRichard Graham was the \"Rychie Graham, ane necromancer,\" consulted by\nBarbara Napier; the same who gave the Earl of Bothwell some drug to make\nthe king's majesty \"lyke weill of him,\" if he could but touch king's\nmajesty on the face therewith; it was he also who raised the devil for Sir\nLewis Ballantyne, in his own yard in the Canongate, whereby Sir Lewis was\nso terrified that he took sickness and died. Even in the presence of the\nking himself, Rychie boasted that \"he had a familiar spirit which showed\nhim many things;\" but which somehow forgot to show him the stake and the\nrope and the faggot, which yet were the bold necromancer's end, little as\nthe poor cozening wretch merited such an awful doom.\n\n\nTHE TWO ALISONS.\n\nJune, 1596, had nearly seen a nobler victim than those usually accorded.\nJohn Stuart, Master of Orkney, and brother of the Earl, \"was dilatit of\nconsulting with umquhile Margaret Balfour, ane wich, for the\ndestructionne of Patrik Erll of Orkney, be poysoning.\" In the dittay she\nis called \"Alysoun Balfour, ane knawin notorious wich.\" Alisoun, after\nbeing kept forty-eight hours in the \"caschiclawis\"[10]--her husband, an\nold man of eighty-one, her son, and her young daughter, all being in ward\nbeside her, and tortured--was induced to confess. She could not see the\nold man with the Lang Irons of fifty stone weight laid upon him; her son\nin the boots, with fifty-seven strokes; and her little daughter, aged\nseven, with the thumbscrews upon her tender hands, and not seek to gain\ntheir remission by any confession that could be made. But when the torture\nwas removed from them and her, she recanted in one of the most moving and\npathetic speeches on record--availing her little then, poor soul! for she\nwas burnt on the Castle Hill, December 16th, 1594, and her confession\ntreasured up to be used as future evidence against John Stuart. Thomas\nPalpla, a servant, was also implicated; but as he had been kept eleven\ndays and nights in the caschiclaws (or caspie-claws); twice in the day for\nfourteen hours \"callit in the buitis;\" stripped naked and scourged with\n\"ropes in sic soirt that they left nather flesch nor hyde vpoun him;\" and,\nas he recanted so soon as the torture was removed, his confession went for\nbut little. So John, Master of Orkney, was let off, when perhaps he had\nbeen the only guilty one of the three.\n\nIn October[11] of the same year (1596), Alesoun Jollie, spous to Robert\nRae, in Fala, was \"dilatit of airt and pairt\" in the death of Isobell\nHepburn, of Fala: and the next month, November, Christian Stewart, in\nNokwalter, was strangled and burnt for the slaughter of umquhile Patrick\nRuthven, by taking ane black clout from Isobell Stewart, wherewith to work\nher fatal charm. It does not appear that she did anything more heinous\nthan borrow a black cloth from Isobell, which might or might not have been\nleft in Ruthven's house; but suspicion was as good as evidence in those\ndays, and black clouts were dangerous things to deal with when women had\nthe reputation of witches. So poor Christian Stewart was strangled and\nburnt, and her soul released from its troubles by a rougher road, and a\nshorter, than what Nature would have taken if left to herself. \"Strange\nthat while all these dismal affairs were going on at Edinburgh, Shakspeare\nwas beginning to write his plays, and Bacon to prepare his essays. Ramus\nhad by this time shaken the Aristotelian philosophy, and Luther had broken\nthe papal tyranny.\"[12] Truly humanity walks by slow marches, and by\npainful stumbling through thorny places!\n\n\nTHE TROUBLES OF ABERDEEN.[13]\n\nAberdeen was not behind her elder sister. One man and twenty-three women\nwere burned in one year alone for the crime of witchcraft and magic; and\nthe Records of the Dean of Guild faithfully detail the expenses which the\ntown was put to in the process. On the 23rd of February, 1597, Thomas\nLeyis cost them two pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence, for \"peattis,\ntar barrelis, fir, and coallis, to burn the said Thomas, and to Jon\nJustice for his fie in executing him;\" but Jonet Wischart (his mother),\nand Isobel Cocker, cost eleven pounds ten shillings for their joint\ncremation; with ten shillings added to the account for \"trailling of\nMonteithe (another witch of the same gang) through the streits of the town\nin ane cart, quha hangit herself in prison, and eirding (burying) her.\"\nThe dittay against these several persons set forth various crimes. Janet\nWischart, who was an old woman notorious for her evil eye, was convicted,\namongst other things, of having \"in the moneth of Aprile or thairby, in\nanno nyntie ane yeiris, being the first moneth in the raith (the first\nquarter) at the greiking\" (breaking) of the day, cast her cantrips in\nAlexander Thomson's way, so that one half of the day his body was \"rossin\"\n(burned or roasted) as if in an oven, with an extreme burning drought, and\nthe other half melting away with a cold sweat. Upon Andrew Wobster--who\nhad put a linen towel round her throat, half choking her, and to whom she\nsaid angrily, \"Quhat wirreys thow me? thow salt lie: I sall give breid to\nmy bairnis this towmound, and thou sall nocht byd ane moneth with thin, to\ngif tham breid\"--she had laid such sore cantrips, that he died as she\npredicted: which was a cruel and foul murder in the eyes of the law,\nforbye the sin of witchcraft. But she had other victims as well. James\nLow, a stabler, refused to lend her his kiln and barn, so he took a\n\"dwining\" illness in consequence, \"melting away like ane burning candle\ntill he died.\" His wife and only son died too, and his \"haill geir,\nsurmounting three thousand pounds, are altogether wrackit and away.\"\nBeside this evidence there was his own testimony availing; for he had\noften said on his death-bed, that if he had lent Jonet what she had\ndemanded, he would never have suffered loss. She had also once brought\ndown a dozen fowls off a roost, dead at her feet; and had ruined a woman\nand her husband, by bidding them take nine grains or ears of wheat, and a\nbit of rowan tree, and put them in the four corners of the house--for all\nthe mischance that followed after was due to this unholy charm; and once\nshe raised a serviceable wind in a dead calm, by putting a piece of live\ncoal at two doors, whereby she was enabled to winnow some wheat for\nherself, when all the neighbours were standing idle for want of wind; and\nshe bewitched cows, so that they gave poison instead of milk; and oxen, so\nthat they became furious under the touch of any one but herself; and she\nsent cats to sit on honest folks' breasts, and give them evil dreams and\nthe horrors; and furthermore, she was said to have gone to the gallows in\nthe Links, and to have dismembered the dead body hanging there, for\ncharms; and twenty-two years ago she was proved to have been found sitting\nin a field of corn before sunrising, peeling blades, and finding that it\nwould be \"ane dear year,\" for the blade grew widershins, and it was only\nwhen it grew sungates (from east to west) that it would be a full harvest\nand cheap bread for the poor; and once her daughter-in-law had found her,\nand another hag, sitting stark by her fireside, the one mounted on the\nshoulders of the other, working charms for her health and well-being. So\nshe cost the town of Aberdeen the half of eleven pounds odd shillings, for\nthe most effectual manner of carrying out her sentence, which was, that\nshe \"be brint to the deid.\"\n\nHer son Thomas Leyis was not so fortunate as her husband and daughters:\n\"qwik gangand devills\" were these; for they escaped the flames this time,\nand were banished instead. But Thomas was less lucky. He was dilatit of\nbeing a common witch and sorcerer, and the partner of all his mother's\nevil deeds. One of his worst crimes was having danced round the\nmarket-cross of Aberdeen, he and a number of witches and sorcerers--the\ndevil leading; \"in the quhilk dans, thow, Thomas, was foremost, and led\nthe ring, and dang the said Katherine Mitchell (another of the accused)\nbecause scho spillit your dans, and ran nocht so fast about as the rest.\"\nThomas had a lover too, faithless Elspet Reid, and she, turning against\nhim, as has been the manner of lovers through all time, gave tremendous\nevidence in his disfavour. She said that he had once offered to take her\nto Murrayland, and there marry her; a man at the foot of a certain\nmountain being sure to rise at his bidding, and supply them with all they\nwanted; and when he was confined in the church-house, she came and\nwhispered to him through the window, and the man in charge of Thomas swore\nthat she said she had been meeting with the devil according to his orders,\nand that when she sained herself he had \"vaniest away with ane rwmleng\n(rumbling).\" In the morning, too, before the old mother's conviction, \"ane\newill spreit in lyiknes of ane pyit (magpie),\" went and struck the\nyoungest sister in her face, and would have picked out her eyes, but that\nthe neighbours to the fore dang the foul thief out of the room; and again,\non the day after conviction, and before execution, the devil came again as\nane kae (crow), and would have destroyed the youngest sister entirely had\nhe not been prevented: which two visitations were somehow hinged on to\nThomas, and included in the list of crimes for which he was adjudged\nworthy of death.\n\nHelen Fraser, of the same \"coven,\" was a most dangerous witch. She had the\npower to make men transfer their affections, no matter how good and\nwholesome the wife deserted:--and she never spared her power. By her\ncharms she caused Andrew Tullideff to leave off loving his lawful wife and\ntake to Margaret Neilson instead: so that \"he could never be reconceillit\nwith his wife, or remove his affection frae the said harlot;\" and she made\nRobert Merchant fall away from the duty owing to his wife, Christian\nWhite, and transfer himself and his love to a certain widow, Isobel Bruce,\nfor whom he once went to sow corn, and fell so madly in love that he could\nnever quit the house or the widow's side again; \"whilk thing the country\nsupposed to be brought about by the unlawful travelling of the said Helen;\n\"and was further _testified by Robert himself_,\" says Chambers\nsignificantly. Helen Fraser was therefore burnt; and it is to be hoped\nthat the men returned to their lawful mates.\n\nIsobel Cockie, who was burnt in company with Thomas Lee's mother, old\nJonet, meddled chiefly with cows and butter. She could forespeak them so\nthat they should give poison instead of milk, and the cream she had once\noverlooked was never fit for the \"yirning.\" Her landlord once offended her\nby mending the roof of her house while she was from home, and Isobel, who\ndid not choose that her things should be pulled about in her absence, and\nperhaps some of her cantrips discovered, \"glowrit up at him, and said, 'I\nsall gar thee forthink it that thow hast tirrit my hows, I being frae\nhame.'\" Whereupon Alexander Anderson went home sick and speechless, and\ngat no relief until Isobel gave him \"droggis,\" when his speech and health\nreturned as of old. Isobel had been the dancer immediately after Thomas\nLees at the Fish Cross, \"and because the dewill playit not so melodiously\nand well as thow cravit, thow took his instrument out of his mouth, then\ntuik him on the chafts (chops) therewith, and playit thyself theiron to\nthe haill company.\" What further evidence could possibly be required to\nprove that Isobel Cockie was a witch, and one that \"might not be suffered\nto live\"?\n\nOther trials did Aberdeen entertain that year on this same wise and\nChristian count. There was that of Andrew Man, a poor old fellow specially\npatronized by the Queen of Fairy who sixty years ago had come to his\nmother's house, where she was delivered of a bairn just like an ordinary\nwoman, and no devil or Queen of Elfin at all. Andrew was then but a boy,\nbut he remembered it all well, and how he carried water for her, and was\npromised by her that he should know all things, and should be able to cure\nall sorts of sickness except the \"stand deid;\" and that he should be \"well\nentertainit,\" but should seek his meat ere he died, as Thomas Rhymer had\ndone in years long past. Twenty-eight years after this the queen came\nagain, and caused one of his cattle to die on a hillock called the\nElf-hillock, but promised to do him good afterwards; and it was then that\ntheir guilty albeit poetic and loving intercourse began. Andrew was told\nin his dittay that he could cure \"the falling sickness, the bairn-bed, and\nall other sorts of sickness that ever fell to man or beast, except the\n_stand-deid_, by baptizing them, reabling them in the auld\ncorunschbald,[14] and striking of the gudis on the face, with ane foot in\nthy hand, and by saying their words, 'Gif thou wilt live, live; and gif\nthow wilt die, die,' with sundry other orisons, sic as Sanct John and the\nthree silly brethren, whilk thow canst say when thow please, and by\ngiving of black wool and salt as a remeid for all diseases, and for\ncausing a man prosper, so that his blude should never be drawn.\" Once,\nAndrew Man, by putting a patient nine times through a hasp of unwatered\nyarn, and a cat as many times backwards through the same hasp, cured the\npatient by killing the cat. This was logical, and quite easy to be\nunderstood. Andrew's devil whom he affirmed to be an angel, and whose name\nwas Christsonday, was raised by saying Benedicite, and laid again by\nputting a dog under his arm, then casting it into the devil's mouth with\nthe awful word \"Maikpeblis!\" \"The Queen of Elphen has a grip of all the\ncraft,\" says the dittay, \"but Christsonday is the gudeman, and has all\npower under God; and thow kens sundry deid men in their company, and the\nking that died at Flodden, and Thomas Rhymer is there.\" And as the queen\nhad been seen in Andrew's company in a rather beautiful and poetic manner,\nthe whole affair was settled, and no man's mind was left in doubt of the\nold creature's guilt. For, Andrew was told, \"Upon Rood-day in harvest, in\nthis present year, whilk fell on a Wednesday, thow saw Christsonday come\nout of the snaw in the likeness of a staig (young male horse), and the\nQueen of Elphen was there, and others with her, riding upon white\nhackneys.\" \"The elves have shapes and claithes like men, and will have\nfair covered tables, and they are but shadows, but are starker (stronger)\nnor men, and they have playing and dancing when they please; the queen is\nvery pleasant, and will be auld and young when she pleases; she makes any\nking whom she pleases.... The elves will make thee appear to be in a fair\nchalmer, and yet thow wilt find thyself in a moss on the moor. They will\nappear to have candles, and licht, and swords, whilk will be nothing else\nbut dead grass and straes.\" So Andrew's doom was sealed, for all that he\ndenied his guilt, and he was convicted and burnt like the rest.\n\nMarjory Mutch came to her end because, having a deadly hatred against\nWilliam Smith, she bewitched his oxen, as they were ploughing, so that\nthey all ran \"wood\" or mad that instant, broke the plough, and two of them\nplunged up over the hills to Deer, and two ran up Ithan side, and could\nnever be taken or apprehended again. She was notorious for bewitching\ncattle; and that she was a witch, and good for nothing but burning, a\ngentleman proved to the satisfaction of all present, for he found a soft\nspot on her which he pricked without causing any pain; a test that ought\nto have been eminently satisfactory and conclusive--but was not; for she\nwas \"clenged\"--cleansed, or acquitted.\n\nEllen Gray, convicted of many of the ordinary crimes of witchcraft, did\naway with all chance of mercy for herself when, on being taken, she looked\nover her shoulder, saying, \"Is there no mon following me?\" and Agnes\nWobster was a witch because in a great snow she took fire out of a \"cauld\nfrosty dyke,\" and carried the same to her house. They were both burnt, as\nthey merited. Jonet Leisk cast sickness and disease on all she knew, and\nmade whole flocks run \"wode\" and furious; geese too; but she was\n\"clenged,\" or cleared; so was Gilbert Fidlar; but Isobell Richie, Margaret\nOg, Helen Rogie, and others, were burnt, for the satisfaction of offended\njustice.\n\nMargaret Clark, too, came to no good end, because being sent for by the\nwife of Nicol Ross, when in child-bed, she gave her ease by casting her\npains upon Andrew Harper, who fell into such a fury and madness during\nher time of travail, that he could not be holden, and only recovered when\nthe gentlewoman was delivered. And what did Violet Leys do, but bewitch\nWilliam Finlay's ship so that she never made one good voyage again, all\nbecause her husband had been discharged therefrom, and Violet the witch\nwas most mightily angered? And Isobell Straquhan, too, had she not powers\nbanned even in the blessing? She went one day to \"Elspet Murray in\nWoodheid, she being a widow, and asked of her if she had a penny to lend\nher, and the said Elspet gave her the penny; and the said Isobell took the\npenny and bowit (bent) it, and took a clout and a piece of red wax, and\nsewed the clout with a thread, the wax and the penny being within the\nclout, and gave it to the said Elspet Murray, commanding her to use the\nsaid clout to hang about her craig (neck), and when she saw the man she\nloved best, take the clout, with the penny and wax, and stroke her face\nwith it, and she so doing, would attain into the marriage of that man whom\nshe loved.\" She also made Walter Ronaldson leave off beating his wife, by\nsewing certain pieces of paper thick with threads of divers colours, and\nputting them in the barn among the corn, since which time Walter left off\ndinging his poor spouse, and was \"subdued entirely to her love.\" So\nIsobell Straquhan made one of the tale of twenty-two unfortunate wretches\nwho were executed in Aberdeen that year, for the various crimes of\nwitchcraft and sorcery.\n\nNo evidence was too meagre for the witch-hunters; no accusation too\nabsurd; no subterfuge or enormity sufficiently transparent to show the\ntruth behind. When Margaret Aiken, \"the great witch of Balwery,\"[15] went\nabout the country dilating honest women for witches, \"by the mark between\ntheir eyes,\" it was evident to all but the heated and credulous, such as\nJohn Cowper, the minister of Glasgow, and others, that she used this as a\nmere means to save time, she herself having been tortured into confession,\nand now seeing no way of safety but by complicity and witch-finding. She\ntold of one convention held on a hill in Atholl, where there were\ntwenty-three hundred witches, and the devil among them. \"She said she knew\nthem all well enough, and what mark the devil had given severally to every\none of them. There was many of them tried by swimming in the water, by\nbinding of their two thumbs and their great toes together, for being thus\ncasten in the water, they floated ay aboon.\" It was not only the\nmalevolent witch that suffered in this wild raid made against reason and\nhumanity. The doom dealt out to the witch who slew was equally allotted to\nthe witch who saved. Yet the witchologists made a difference between the\ntwo.\n\n\"Of witches there be two sorts,\" says Thomas Pickering, in his 'Discovrse\nof the damned Art of Witchcraft,' printed 1610, \"_the bad witch_ and _the\ngood witch_; for so they are commonly called. The _bad witch_ is he or she\nthat hath consulted in league with the Deuill; to vse his helpe for the\ndoing of hurte onely, so as to strike and annoy the bodies of men, women,\nchildren, and cattell, with diseases and with death itselfe; so likewise\nto raise tempests by sea and by land, &c. This is commonly called _the\nbinding_ witch.\n\n\"The _good witch_ is he or she that by consent in a league with the Deuill\ndoth vse his helpe for the doing of good onely. This cannot hurt, torment,\ncurse, or kill, but onely heale and cure the hurt inflicted vpone men or\ncattell by badde witches. For as they can doe no good but onely hurt; so\nthis can doe no hurt but good onely. And this is that order which the\nDeuill hath set in his kingdome, appointing to severall persons their\nseverall offices and charges. And the Good Witch is commonly called the\nVnbinding Witch.\"\n\nBut the good witch, as Pickering calls her, was no better off than the\nbad. Indeed she was held in even greater dread, for the black witch hurt\nonly the body and estate, while the white witch hurt the soul when she\nhealed the body; the healed part never being able to say \"God healed me.\"\nWherefore it was severed from the salvation of the rest, and the wholeness\nof the redemption destroyed. In consequence of this belief we find as\nsevere punishments accorded to the blessing as to the banning witches; and\nno movement of gratitude was dreamt of towards those who had healed the\nmost oppressive diseases, or shown the most humane feeling and kindness,\nif there was a suspicion that the power had been got uncannily, or that\nthe drugs had more virtue than common.\n\n\nWHITE WITCHES.[16]\n\nThus on November the 12th, 1597, Janet Stewart in the Canongate, Christian\nLevingstone in Leith, Bessie Aiken, also of Leith, and Christian Sadler of\nBlackhouse, were brought to trial for no worse crimes than healing and\nhelping sundry of their neighbours. Christian Levingstone was \"fylit and\nconvict\" for abusing (deceiving) Thomas Gothray, who went to her\ncomplaining that his gear went from him, and that he was bewitched; which\nshe said was true; promising to help him, and \"let him see where the\nwitchcraft was laid.\" So she took him down his own stair, and dug a hole\nwith her knife, and took out a little bag of black plaid, wherein were\nsome grains of wheat, worsted threads of many colours, some hair, and\nnails of men's fingers, affirming that he was bewitched by these means,\nand bidding his wife catch them in her apron. If this bag had not been\nfound, said Christian, he would have been wrackit both in mind and body;\nwhich was a clear case of \"abusing,\" if you will. This \"scho deponit in\npresens of my Lord Justice vpoun the tent day of Julij last past to be of\nveritie.\" She also said that her daughter had been taken away by fairy\nfolk, and that she had learnt all her wise-wife knowledge from her, and as\na proof of this knowledge, she prophesied that Gothray's wife, then \"being\nwith barne,\" should bear a man child; which proved to be true, to the sad\nstrengthening of the accusations against her. Another time she and\nChristian Sadler were prayed by Robert Bailie, mason in Haddington, to go\nand cure his wife. Christian Sadler recommended her to take three pints of\nsweet wort, and boil it with a quantity of fresh butter; which she did,\nand drank it too, but with no good effects of healing, as we may suppose.\nAgain, shortly before her accusation, she was sent for by Christian\nSadler, on some other devil's deed; and together they made Andrew\nPennycuik a cake baked with the blood of a red cock; but he could not eat\nit. Then they took his shirt and dipped it in the well at the back of his\nhouse, and brought it to him and put it on him, dripping as it was,\n\"quhairthrow he maist haif sownit amang their hands,\" giving him to\nunderstand that now he would be mended, \"albeit that it was onlie plane\nabusione, as the event declarit.\" Not finding the cake of red cock's\nblood or the dripping shirt of great efficacy, Andrew went then to Janet\nStewart, craving his health at her hands \"for God's sake;\" but we are not\ntold the result.\n\nJanet Stewart was fylit for going to Bessie Inglis in the Kowgate, Bessie\nbeing deidlie sick; when Janet took off her \"mutche and sark\" (cap and\nshift), washed them in south-running water, and put them on her again at\nmidnight, wet as they were, saying three times, \"In the name of the\nFather, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.\" She also \"fyrit,\" or put a hot iron\ninto water, and burnt straw at the four corners of the bed, as Michael\nClarke, smith, had learnt her; and she healed women of the mysterious\nchild-bed disorder called wedonymph, by taking a garland of woodbine and\nputting them through it, afterwards cutting it into nine pieces, which she\nthrew into the fire. This charm she said she had learnt from Mr. John\nDamiet, an Italian, and a notorious enchanter. And she cured sundry\npersons of the falling-evil by hanging a stone about their necks for five\nnights, which stone she said she got from Lady Crawford.\n\nChristian Sadler was \"fylit and convict\" for taking in hand to heal the\nyoung Laird of Bargany, with a salve made of quicksilver, which she rubbed\ninto the patient, alleging that she learnt it of her father; but she did\nthe same by \"unlessum\" (unwholesome) means, said the dittay, she having no\nsuch knowledge as would enable her to cure leprosy, which the most expert\nmen in medicine are not able to do. Robert Hunter, too, since deceased,\nhaving a flaw in his face, she undertook to cure with a mixture of\nquicksilver in a drink. She said the flaw was leprosy, but it was nothing\nof the kind; and \"God knows how the drink was composed,\" but the\ngentleman died twelve hours after, \"as was notourlie confessit of hirself,\nand can nocht be denyit, quhairby scho was giltie of his death be hir\ncraft; ministering to him vnlessum things, quhairof he deit suddenlie.\" So\nthe four women were convicted and condemned, sentenced to be strangled at\na stake, then burnt, and all their goods forfeit to the crown. Only Bessie\nAiken got off by reason of her pregnancy; and after having suffered \"lang\npuneischment be famine and imprisonment,\" was finally banished the kingdom\nfor life.\n\nIn July, 1602, James Reid suffered for the same kind of offences--taking\nthree pennies and a piece of \"creisch\" (grease) from the bag of his master\nthe devill, whom he met on Bynnie-crags, and learning from him the art of\nhealing by means of silk laces, south-running waters, charms,\nincantations, and other \"unlessum\" means. He cured Sarah Borthwick by his\nsorcery and devilry, bringing her south-running water from the\n\"Schriff-breyis-well,\" and casting a certain quantity of salt and wheat\nabout her bed: and he consulted with certain for the destruction of David\nLibbertoune, baxter and burges of Edinburgh, his spouse, their corn, and\ngoods, by taking a piece of raw flesh, and making nine nicks in it, then\nputting part under the mill door and part under the stable door; while, to\nruin the land, he enchanted stones and cast them on the fields. He cured\nJohn Crystie of a swelling, by putting three silk laces round his leg for\nten weeks; and his deeds becoming notorious and his character lost, he was\nadjudged worthy of death, and judicially murdered accordingly.\n\nWho was safe, if a half-fed scrofulous woman had fancies and the megrims?\nThe first person on whom her wild imagination chose to cast the grim\nshadow of witchcraft was surely doomed, however slight the evidence, or\nwhatever the manifest quality of the disease. There was poor Patrick\nLowrie, fylit July 23, 1605--what had he done? Why, he and Jonet Hunter,\n\"ane notorious wich,\" bewitched Bessie Saweris' (Sawyer's) her corn, and\ntook all her fisnowne (fushion, foison, pith, strength, flavour) from her;\nand then he fell foul of certain \"ky,\" so that they gave no milk; and he\nhad cured the horse of Margaret Guffok, the witch of Barnewell, twenty\nyears ago; and struck Janet Lowrie blind; and, as a climax, uncannily\nhelped Elizabeth Crawford's bairn in Glasgow, which had been strangely\nsick for the last eight or nine years. And the way in which he helped her\nwas thus. He took a cloth off the said bairn's face, \"saining\" it, and\ncrossing the face with his hand; he kept the cloth for eight days, then\ncame back and covered her face again with it; whereupon the child slept\nwithout moving for two days, and at the end of that time Patrick Lowrie\nwakened her, and her eye, which \"had been tynt throw disease, was restored\nto her, and in five days she was cured and mended.\" He was also fylit of\nhaving met the devil on the common waste at Sandhills, in Kyle, when a\nnumber of men and women were there; and for having entertained him under\nthe form of a woman, one Helen M'Brune (this was a succubus); also of\nhaving received from him a hair belt, at one end of which was the\nsimilitude of \"four fingeris and ane thumbe, nocht far different from the\nclawis of the devill;\" which belt Jonet Hunter had, and it was burnt at\nher trial; also of having dug up dead bodies, to dismember them for his\ndeadly charms; and also for being \"ane cowmone and notorious sorcerer,\nwarlok, and abuser of the peopill, be all vnlawfull charms and devillische\nincantationes, vset be him this xxiiij yeir begane.\" To which terrific\narray was added the testimony of Mr. David Mill, who said how, in his own\nplace, he was \"brutit and commonlie called Pait ye Witch, and that he gat\nhis father's malison,\" and had been spoken of as sure to make an ill end.\nSo he did, poor fellow; for the Lord Advocate threatened to prosecute the\nassize if they acquitted him, which insured his effectual condemnation,\nand Pate the Witch was burnt with his fellows.\n\n\nTHE MISDEEDS OF ISOBEL GRIERSON.[17]\n\nTwo years afterwards, on March the 10th, 1607, Isobel Grierson, \"spous to\nJohn Bull,\" came into court with anything but clean hands. She was accused\nof having visited Adam Clarke and his wife--they lying decently in bed,\ntheir servant being in the other bed beside them--not as an honest woman,\nbut in the form of a cat, being accompanied by other cats which made a\ngreat and fearful noise. Whereat Adam Clarke, his wife, and servant were\nso affrighted they were almost mad. At the same time arrived the devil in\nthe shape of a black man, and came to the servant girl then standing on\nthe floor, and drew her up and down the house in a fearful manner, first\ntaking the curtche (cap) off her head and casting it into the fire,\nwhereby the poor woman had a sickness which lasted six weeks. Isobel\nkilled William Burnet by casting a cutting of plaid in at his door, after\nwhich the devil, for the space of half a year, perpetually appeared to\nhim as a naked child, holding an enchanted picture in his hand, and\nstanding before the fire; but sometimes he appeared as Isobel herself,\nwho, when William Burnet called to her by name, would vanish away. So she\nhaunted and harried him till he pined away and died. She bewitched Mr.\nBrown, of Prestonpans, by throwing an enchanted \"tailzie\" (cut or piece)\nof beef at his door, sending the devil to distress him for half a year,\nappearing to him herself in the form of an infant bairn, and so hardly\ntreating him, that Brown died as Burnet had done. Then she bewitched\nRobert Peddan, who got no good from any remedy, and knew not what ailed\nhim, until he suddenly remembered that he and Isobel had had a quarrel\nabout nine shillings which he owed her and would not pay; so he went to\nher and paid her, asking humbly for his health again; which came. Robert\nPeddan deposed, too, that, being once at his house, she wanted her cat,\nwhereupon she opened his window, put out her hand, and drew the cat in: at\nwhich time was working a brewing of good sound ale, which all turned to\n\"gutter dirt.\" Another time she or her spirit went at night to his house\nand drew Margaret Donaldson, his wife, out of her bed, and flung her\nviolently against the floor; whereat the wife was very ill and sore\ntroubled, and cried out on her. Isobel, hearing of this, went to the\nneighbours, and said they were to bring her and Margaret together again;\nwhich they did; and Margaret had her health for nine or ten days. But Meg,\nnot leaving off calling out against her, Isobel went to her, \"and spak to\nhir mony devillisch and horribill words,\" saying, \"The faggot of hell\nlycht on the, and hell's cauldron may thow seith in!\" So Meg was sick\nagain after this; and as a poor beggarwoman coming to the door to ask\nmeat told her she was bewitched, for that she had the right stamp of it,\nthe case grew serious, and Margaret cried out more loudly than before.\nThen Isobel went again to her house with a creil on her back, and said\npassionately, \"Away, theiff! I sall haif thy hairt for bruitting of me sae\nfalslie;\" which so frightened Meg that she took to her bed, and Isobel was\narrested, tried, convicted, and burnt.\n\n\nBARTIE PATERSON'S CHARM.[18]\n\nThat same year James Brown was ill. Bartie Paterson went to him, and gave\nhim drinks and salves made of green herbs, and bade him \"sitt doun on his\nkneis thre seuerall nychtis, and everie nycht, thryse nyne tymes, ask his\nhelth at all living wichtis, aboue and vnder the earth in the name of\nJesus.\" He gave Alexander Clarke a drink of Dow-Loch water--poor Alexander\nClarke was fond of consulting witches--causing him each time he lifted the\nmug to say, \"I lift this watter in the name of the Father, Sone, and Holy\nGhaist, to do guid for their helth for quhom it is liftit.\" And he was\nable to cast a spell over cattle by saying--\n\n  \"I charme the for arrow-schot,\n  For dor-schot, for wondo-schot,\n  For ey-schot, for tung-schot,\n  For lever-schot, for lung-schot,\n  For hert-schot, all the maist,\n  In the name of the Father, the Sone, and Haly Ghaist.\n  To wend out of fleisch and bane,\n  Into stek and stane,\n  In the name of the Father, the Sone, and Haly Ghaist. Amen.\"\n\nSo the law put a stop to his incantations, and he was strangled and\nburnt, and all his goods escheit to the crown. But the crown did not get a\nvery full haul, for poor Bartie was scarce removed from beggary.\n\n\nBEIGIS TOD AND HER COMPEERS.[19]\n\nIn 1608, on May the 27th, Beigis Tod in Lang Nydrie came to her fate. She\nhad long been a frequenter of Sabbaths, and once was reproved by the devil\nfor being late, when she answered respectfully, \"Sir, I could wyn na\nsoner!\" Immediately thereafter she passed to her own house, took a cat,\nand put it nine times through the chimney work, and then sped to Seaton\nThorne \"be north the yet,\" where the devil called Cristiane Tod, her\nyounger sister, and brought her out. But Cristiane took a great fright and\nsaid, \"Lord, what wilt thou do with me?\" to whom he answered, \"Tak na\nfeir, for ye sall gang to your sister Beigis, to ye rest of hir cumpanie\nquha are stayand vpoun your cuming at the Thorne.\" Cristiane Tod, John\nGraymeill, Ersche (Irish), Marion, and Margaret Dwn, who were of that\ncompany that night, had all been burnt, so now Beigis had her turn. She\nfell out with Alexander Fairlie, and made his son vanish away by continual\nsweating and burning at his heart, during which time Beigis appeared to\nhim nightly in her own person, but during the day in the similitude of a\ndog, and put him almost out of his wits. Alexander went to her to be\nreconciled, and asked her to take the sickness off his son, which at first\nshe refused, but afterwards consenting, she went and healed the youth, a\nshort time before she was arrested--to be burnt. Two years after this\nGrissel Gairdner was burnt for casting sickness upon people; and in 1613\nRobert Erskine and his three sisters were executed--he was beheaded--for\npoisoning and treasonable murder against his two nephews. But before this,\nin 1608, the Earl of Mar brought word to the Privy Council that some women\ntaken at Broughton or Breichin, accused of witchcraft, and being put to\n\"ane assize and convict albeit they persevered constant in their deniall\nto the end, yet they wes burnet _quick_ after sic ane crewell maner that\nsum of thame deit in dispair, renunceand and blasphemand, and vtheris,\nhalf brunt, brak out of the fyre and wes cassin _quick_ into it againe,\nquhill they war brunt to the deid.\" Even this horrible scene does not seem\nto have had any effect in humanizing men's hearts, or opening their eyes\nto the infamy into which their superstition dragged them; for still the\nwitch trials went on, and the young and the old, and the beautiful and the\nunlovely, and the loved and the loveless, were equally victims, cast\nwithout pity or remorse to their frightful doom.\n\nSixteen hundred and sixteen was a fruitful year for the witch-finders.\nThere was Jonka Dyneis of Shetland,[20] who, offended with one Olave, fell\nout in most vile cursings and blasphemous exclamations, saying that within\na few days his bones should be \"raiking\" about the banks: and as she\npredicted so did it turn out--Olave perishing by her sorcery and\nenchantments. And not content with this, she cursed the other son of the\npoor widowed mother, and in fourteen days he also died, to Jonka's own\nundoing when the Shetlanders would bear her iniquities no longer. And\nthere was Katherine Jonesdochter, also of Shetland, who cruelly\ntransferred her husband's natural infirmities to a stranger: and Elspeth\nReoch of Orkney, who pulled the herb called melefowr (millfoil?) betwixt\nher finger and thumb, saying, \"In Nomine Patris, Filii, et Spiritus\nSancti,\" thus curing men's distempers in a devilish and unwholesome\nmanner: and Agnes Scottie, who refused to speak word to living man before\npassing \"the boundis of hir ground, and their sat down, plaiting her feit\nbetwixt the merchis,\" that a certain woman might have a good childbirth;\nwho was also convicted \"of washing the inner nuke of her plaid and\naprone,\" for some wicked and sinister purpose; for what sane Scottish\nwoman would wash her clothes more than was absolutely necessary? and who\ncould curse as well as cure, and transfer as well as give the sickness she\ncould heal: and Marable Couper who threw a \"wall piet\" at a man who spoke\nill of her, and made his face bleed, so that he went mad, and could only\nbe recovered by her laying her hands on him, whereby he received his\nsenses and his health again: and Agnes Yullock, who went to the guid wyfe\nof Langskaill, and by touching her gave her back her health: and William\nGude, who had power over all inanimate things, and by his touch could give\nthem back the virtue they had lost. These are only a few, very few, of the\ncases to be found in the various judiciary records of the year 1616--a\nyear no worse than others, and no better, where all were bad and\nblood-stained alike.\n\nIn 1618 one of the saddest stories of all was to be read in the tears of a\nfew sorrowful relatives, and in the exultation of those fanatics who\nrejoiced when the accursed thing plucked out from them was of more goodly\nsavour and of a fairer form than usual, and thus was a meeter sacrifice\nfor the Lord. Of all the heartrending histories to be found in the records\nof witchcraft, the history of Margaret Barclay and her \"accomplices\" is\nsaddest, most sorrowful, most heartrending.\n\n\nTHE PITIFUL FATE OF MARGARET BARCLAY.[21]\n\nMargaret was a young, beautiful, high-spirited woman, wife of Archibald\nDein, burgess of Irvine, and not on the best of terms with John Dein, her\nhusband's brother. Indeed, she had had him and his wife before the Kirk\nsession for slander, and things had not gone quite smoothly with them ever\nsince. When, therefore, the ship, The Grace of God, in which John Dein was\nsailing, sank in sight of land, drowning him and all his men, the old\nquarrel was remembered, and Margaret, together with Isobel Insh and John\nStewart, a wandering \"spaeman,\" was accused of having sunk the vessel by\ncharms and enchantments. Margaret disdainfully denied the charge from\nbeginning to end: Isobel said she had never seen the spaeman in her life\nbefore; but Stewart \"clearly and pounktallie confessit\" all the charges\nbrought against him, and also said that the women had applied to him to be\ntaught his magic arts, and that once he had found them both modelling\nships and figures in clay for the destruction of the men and vessel\naforesaid. And as it was proved that Stewart had spoken of the wreck\nbefore he could have known it by ordinary means, suspicion of sorcery fell\nupon him, and he was taken: and made his confession. He said that he had\nvisited Margaret to help her to her will, when a black dog, breathing fire\nfrom his nostrils, had formed part of the conclave; and Isobel's own\nchild, a little girl of eight, added to this, a black man as well.\nIsobel, after denying all and sundry of the charges brought against her,\nunder torture admitted their truth. In the night time she found means to\nescape from her prison, bruised and maimed with the torture as she was;\nbut in scrambling over the roof she fell to the ground, and was so much\ninjured that she died five days afterwards. Margaret was then tortured:\nthe spaeman had strangled himself, which was the best thing he could do,\nonly it was a pity he did not do it before; and poor Margaret was the last\nof the trio. The torture they used, said the Lords Commissioners, was\n\"safe and gentle.\" They put her bare legs into a pair of stocks, and laid\non them iron bars, augmenting their weight one by one, till Margaret,\nunable to bear the pain, cried out to be released, promising to confess\nthe truth as they wished to have it. But when released she only denied the\ncharges with fresh passion; so they had recourse to the iron bars again.\nAfter a time, pain and weakness overcame her again, and she shrieked\naloud, \"Tak off! tak off! and befoir God I will show ye the whole form!\"\nShe then confessed--whatever they chose to ask her; but unfortunately, in\nher ravings, included one Isobel Crawford, who when arrested--as she was\non the instant--attempted no defence, but, paralyzed and stupefied,\nadmitted everything with which she was charged. Margaret's trial\nproceeded: sullen and despairing, she assented to the most monstrous\ncounts: she knew there was no hope, and she seemed to take a bitter pride\nin suffering her tormentors to befool themselves to the utmost. In the\nmidst of her anguish her husband, Alexander Dein, entered the court,\naccompanied by a lawyer. And then her despair passed, and she thought she\nsaw a glimmer of life and salvation. She asked to be defended. \"All that\nI have confessed,\" she said, \"was in an agony of torture; and before God\nall that I have spoken is false and untrue. But,\" she added pathetically,\nturning to her husband, \"ye have been owre lang in coming!\" Her defence\ndid her no good; she was condemned, and at the stake entreated that no\nharm might befall Isobel Crawford, who was utterly and entirely innocent.\nTo whom did she make this prayer? to hearts turned wild and wolfish by\nsuperstition; to hearts made fiendish by fear; to men with nothing of\nhumanity save its form--with nothing of religion save its terrors. She\nmight as well have prayed to the fierce winds blowing round the\ncourt-house, or the rough waves lashing the barren shore! She was taken to\nthe stake, there strangled and burnt: bearing herself bravely to the last.\nPoor, brave, beautiful, young Margaret! we, at this long lapse of time,\ncannot even read of her fate without tears; it needed all the savageness\nof superstition to harden the hearts of the living against the actual\npresence of her beauty, her courage, and her despair!\n\nIsobel Crawford was now tried; \"after the assistant minister, Mr. David\nDickson, had made earnest prayer to God for opening her obdurate and\nclosed heart, she was subjected to the torture of the iron bars laid upon\nher bare shins, her feet being in the stocks, as in the case of Margaret\nBarclay.\" She endured this torture \"admirably,\" without any kind of din or\nexclamation, suffering above thirty stone of iron to be laid on her legs,\nnever shrinking thereat in any sort, but remaining steady and constant.\nBut when they shifted the iron bars, and removed them to another part of\nher legs, her constancy gave way, as Margaret's had done, and she too\nbroke out into horrible cries of \"Tak off! tak off!\" She then\nconfessed--anything--everything--and was sentenced: but on the way to her\nexecution she denied all that she had admitted, interrupted the minister\nin his prayer, and refused to pardon the executioner, according to form.\nHer brain had given way, and they fastened to the stake a bewildered,\nraving maniac. God rest their weary souls!\n\n\nMARGARET WALLACE AND HER DEAR BURD.[22]\n\nMargaret Wallace (1622), spous to John Dynning, merchant and citizen of\nGlasgow, hated Cuthbert Greg. She had sent Cristiane Grahame to him,\nwanting his dog; but he would not give it, saying, \"I rather ye and my\nhussie (cummer, gossip) baith was brunt or ye get my dog.\" Margaret,\ncoming to the knowledge of this speech, went to him angrily, and said,\n\"Ffals land-loupper loun that thow art, sayis thow that Cristiane Grahame\nand I sall be brunt for witches? I vow to God I sall doe ye ane evill\nturne.\" So she did, by means of a cake of bread, casting on him the most\nstrange, unnatural, and unknown disease, such as none could mend or\nunderstand. Suspecting that he was bewitched, his friends got her to come\nand undo the mischief she had done: so she went into the house, took him\nby the \"schaikill bane\" (shoulder-blade) with one hand, and laid the other\non his breast, but spoke no word, only moved her lips; then passed from\nhim on the instant. The next day she went again to his house, and took him\nup out of bed, leading him to the kitchen and three or four times across\nthe floor, though he had been bedridden for fifteen days, unable to put\nhis foot to the ground. And if all that was not done by devilish art and\ncraft, how was it done? asked the judges and the jury. Another time she\nwent to the house of one Alexander Vallange, where she was taken with a\nsudden \"brasch\" of sickness, and was so hardly holden that they thought\nshe would have \"ryved\" herself to fits. She cried out piteously for her\n\"dear burd,\" and the bystanders thought she meant her husband: but it\nturned out to be the witch Cristiane Grahame that she wanted--whom they\nimmediately sent for. Cristiane came at once, and took Margaret tenderly\nin her arms, saying \"no one should hurt her dear burd, no one;\" then\ncarried her down stairs into the kitchen, and so home to her own house.\nThe little daughter of the house ran after them; on the threshold, she was\nseized with a sudden pain, and falling down cried and screamed most\nsorely. Her mother went to lift her up crossly, but she called out,\n\"Mother, mother, ding me nocht, for there is ane preyne (pin) raschet\nthrow my fute.\" She \"grat\" all the night, and was very ill; her parents\nwatching by her through the long hours: but when Margaret wanted the\nmother to let her be cured by Cristiane's aid, she said sternly, no, \"scho\nwad commit her bairne to God, and nocht mell with the devill or ony of his\ninstrumentis.\" However, Margaret Wallace healed the little one unbidden;\nby leaping over some bits of green cloth scattered in the midst of the\nfloor, and then taking her out of bed and laying her in Cristiane\nGrahame's lap--which double sorcery cured her instantly. Cristiane Grahame\nhad been burnt for a witch some time before this trial; and now Margaret\nWallace, in this year of our Lord 1622, was doomed to the same fate: bound\nto a stake, strangled, burnt, her ashes cast to the wind, and all her\nworldly gear forfeit to king's majesty, because she was a tender-hearted,\nloving woman, with a strong will and large mesmeric power, and did her\nbest for the sick folk about her.\n\n\nTHOM REID AGAIN.[23]\n\nIsobell Haldane confessed before the Session of Perth, May 15, 1623, that\nshe had cured Andro Duncan's bairn by washing it and its sark in water\nbrought from the Turret Port, then casting the water into a burn; but in\nthe going \"scho skaillit (spilt) swm quhilk scho rewis ane evill rew,\nbecaus that if onye had gone ower it they had gottyn the ill.\" She\nconfessed, too, that about ten years since, she, lying in her bed, was\ntaken forth, whether by God or the devil she knows not, and carried to a\nhill: the hill-side opened, and she went in and stayed there from Thursday\nto Sunday at eleven o'clock, when an old man with a gray beard brought her\nforth. The old man with the gray beard, who seems to have been poor Bessie\nDunlop's old acquaintance, told her many things after this visit. He told\nher that John Roch, who came to the wright's shop for a cradle, need not\nbe so hasty, for his wife would not be lighter for five weeks, and then\nthe bairn should never lie in the cradle, but would die when baptized: as\nit proved, and as John Roch deposed on her trial. Also, he told her that\nMargaret Buchanan, then in good health, should prepare herself for death\nbefore Fastings Even, which was a few days hence; and Margaret died as she\npredicted. And Patrick Ruthven deposed that he, being sick--bewitched by\none Margaret Hornscleugh--Isobell came to see him, and stretched herself\nupon him, her head to his head, her hands on his, and so forth, mumbling\nsome words, he knew not what. And Stephen Ray deposed that three years\nsince he had detected Isobell in a theft, whereon she clapped him on the\nback, and said, \"Go thy way; thow sall nocht win thyself ane bannok of\nbreid for yeir and ane day;\" and so it proved. He pined away, heavily\ndiseased, and did not do a stroke of work for just three hundred and\nsixty-six days, of the full four-and-twenty hours' count. But Isobell said\nthat her sole words were, \"He that delyueret me frome the ffairy ffolk\nsall tak amends on the:\" and that she had never meaned to harm him, nor\neven to answer him ungently. But she confessed to various charms; such as\na cake made of small handsful of meal, gotten from nine several women who\nhad been married, virgins--through a hole in which sick children were to\nbe passed, to their decided cure; and she confessed to getting water,\nsilently going, and silently returning, from the well of Ruthven, in which\nto bathe John Gow's child; and to having made a drink of focksterrie[24]\nleaves for Dan Morris's child, who \"wes ane scharge\" (changeling or fairy\nchild), which focksterrie drink she made it swallow; when it died soon\nafter. So Isobell Haldane shook hands with life, and went back to Thom\nReid and the fairy folk on the hill, helped thither by the hangman.\n\n\nBESSIE SMITH.\n\nIn the July of this same year Bessie Smith of Lesmahago also confessed to\nsundry unlawful doings. When people who were ill of the heart fevers went\nto her for advice, instead of employing honest drugs such as every\nChristian understood and nauseated, she bade them kneel and ask their\nhealth \"for God's sake, for Sanct Spirit, for Sanct Aikit, for the nine\nmaidens that died in the boor-tree in the Ladywell Bank. This charm to be\nbuik and beil to me, God grant that sae be.\" This charm, with the\n\"wayburn\" leaf to be eaten for nine mornings, was sufficient to prove\nBessie Smith of Lesmahago a necromancer; and the presbytery of Lanark did\nquite righteously, according to its lights, when they made her come before\nthem and confess her crimes, humbly. Fortunately, they did not burn her.\n\n\nTHOMAS GRIEVE'S ENCHANTMENTS (1623).[25]\n\nThomas Grieve was a notorious enchanter, according to the Session, which\nprided itself on being \"ripely advised.\" He put a woman's sickness on a\ncow, which ran mad, and died in consequence; and he cured William Kirk's\nbairn by stroking its hair back from its face and wrapping it in an\nenchanted cloth, whereby it slept, and woke healed. He cured cattle of\n\"the heastie,\" or any other bovine disease untranslateable, by sprinkling\nthe byre with enchanted water; and he cured sick people by putting them\nthrough a hank of yarn, which then he cut up and threw into the fire,\nwhere it burned blue. He healed one woman by \"fyring\"--putting a hot iron,\nwhich was supposed to burn the obsessing witch--into some magic water\nbrought from Holywell, Hill-side, and making her drink it; and he cured\nanother woman by burning a poor hen alive, first making her carry it,\nwhen half roasted, under her arm; and he took in hand to heal Elspeth,\nsister of John Thomson, of Corachie--passing with her two brothers in the\nnight season from Corachie towards Burley, enjoining them not to speak a\nword all the way, and whatever they heard or saw, not to be anywise\n\"effrayed,\" saying \"it micht be that thai would heir grit rumbling and sie\nvncouth feirfull apparitiones, but nothing suld annoy thame.\" Arrived at\nthe ford at the east of Birley he washed her sark; and during the time of\nthis washing there was a great noise made by fowls in the hill, beasts\nthat arose and fluttered in the water--\"beistes that arrais and\nflichtered\" in the water; and when he put her sark upon her again, Elspeth\nmended and was healed. And of another patient he propounded this wise\nopinion, come to by the examination of his sark: \"Allace, the withcraft\nappointit for ane vther hes lichtit vpoune him,\" but it had not yet\nreached his heart. And further than all this, which was bad enough, he\nmade signs and crosses, and muttered uncouth words, and believed in\nhimself and the devil: so he was strangled and burnt, and an end come to\nof him: for which the neighbours all were glad, even those he had\nbenefited, and the ministers were quite satisfied that they had given\nglory to God in the holiest manner open to them.\n\n\nKATHERINE GRANT AND HER STOUP.[26]\n\nKatherine Grant, in the November of the year 1623, was dilatit for that\nshe had gone to Henry Janies' house, with \"a stoup in hir hand, with the\nboddome foremost, and sat down ryght fornent the said Henrie, and gantit\nthryce on him: and going furth he followit hir; and beiyan the brigstane,\nscho lukit over her shoulder, and turned up the quhyt of her eye, quhair\nby her divilrie, their fell ane great weght upoun him that he was forcit\nto set his bak to the wall, and when he came in, he thoucht the hous ran\nabout with him, and theirefter lay seik ane lang tyme.\" Katherine Grant\nwas not likely to overcome the impression of such testimony as this: that\nshe should have gone to any man's house and yawned thrice, and added to\nthis devilry the further crime of looking over her shoulder, was quite\nenough evidence of guilt for any sane man or woman in Orkney. Can we\nwonder, then, that she was not suffered to vex the sunlight longer by\ncarrying pails bottom upwards, or yawning thrice in the faces of decent\nfolk, and that she was taken forth to be strangled, burnt, and her ashes\ncast to the four winds of the merciful heaven?\n\n\nTHE MISDEEDS OF MARION RICHART.[27]\n\n\"Mareoune\" Richart, _alias_ Langland, dwelt on one of the wild Orkney\nislands, not far from where mad Elspeth Sandisome kept the whole country\nin fear lest she should do something terrible to herself or to others.\nMarion was invited to go the house, and try her skill at curing her, for\nshe was known to be an awful witch, and able to do whatever she had a mind\nin the way of healing or killing. So she went, and set herself to her\ncharm. She took some \"remedie water\"--which she made into \"remedy water,\"\nby carrying it in a round bowl to the byre where she cast into it\nsomething like \"great salt,\" taken from her purse, spitting thrice into\nthe bowl, and blowing in her breath--and with this magic \"remedie watter\nforspeking,\" she bade Elspeth's woman-servant wash her feet and hands, and\nshe would be as well as ever she had been before. This was bad enough; but\nworse than this, she came to Stronsey on a day, asking alms of \"Andro\nCoupar, skipper of ane bark,\" to whom said Andrew rudely, \"Away witch,\ncarling; devils ane farthing ye will fall!\" whereupon went Marion away\n\"verie offendit; and incontinentlie he going to sea, the bark being vnder\nsaill, he ran wode, and wald half luppen ourboord; and his sone seing him\ngat him in his armes, and held him; quhairvpon the sicknes immediatelie\nleft him, and his sone ran made; and Thomas Paiterson, seeing him tak his\nmadnes, and the father to turn weill, ane dog being in the bark, took the\ndog and bladdit him vpon the twa schoulderis, and thaireftir flang the\nsaid dogg in the sea, quhairby those in the bark were saiffed.\" So Marion\nRichart, _alias_ Langland, learnt the hangman's way to the grave in the\nyear of grace 1629; and her corpse was burned, when the hangman's rope had\ndone its work.\n\n\nLADY LEE'S PENNY AND THE WITCHES OF 1629.[28]\n\nIsobel Young, spous to George Smith, was burnt, in 1629, for curing\ncattle, as well as for the other crimes belonging to a witch. She had\nsought to borrow Lady Lee's Penny--a precious stone or amulet, like to a\npiece of amber, set in a silver penny, which one of the old Lee family had\ngotten from a Saracen in the Crusades--and which Lee Penny was to help\nher in her incantations, for curing \"the bestiall of the routting evill,\"\nwhatever that might have been. But Lady Lee let her have only a flagon of\nwater in which the amulet had been steeped, which did quite as well, and\nhelped to set the stake as quickly as anything else would have done.\nVarious other mischancy things did Isobel Young. She stopped a certain\nmill, and made it incapable of grinding for eleven days: she forespoke a\ncertain boat, and though all the rest returned to Dunbar full and richly\nladen, this came back empty, whereby the owner was ruined: she bewitched\nmilk that it would give no cream, and churns, so that no butter would\ncome: she twice crossed the mill water on a wild and stormy night, when\nthe milne horses could not ride it out, and where there was no bridge of\nstone or wood; but Isobel the witch crossed and recrossed those raging\nwaters under the stormy sky, and came out at the end as dry as if from a\nkiln. And was not this as unholy as taking off her \"curch\" at William\nMeslet's barn-door, and running \"thrice about the barn widdershins,\"\nwhereby the cattle were caused to fall dead in \"great suddainty?\" Then, as\nfurther iniquity, she had dealings with Christian Grinton, another witch,\nwho one night came out of a hole in the roof in the likeness of a cat; and\nshe cast a sickness from off her husband, and laid it on his brother's\nson, who, knowing full well that he was bewitched, came to the house, and\nthere saw the \"firlott\"--a certain measure of wheat--running about, and\nthe stuff poppling on the floor, which was the manner of the charm.\nDrawing his sword, this husband's brother's son ran on the pannel (the\naccused) to kill her, but was witch-disabled, and only struck the lintel\nof the door instead; so he went home and died, and Isobel Young was the\ncause of his death by the cantrip wrought in the locomotive firlott and\nthe poppling grain. Forbye all this, she was seen riding on \"ane mare\"--at\nleast her apparition was seen so riding--and by her sorcery and devilish\nhandling the mare was made to cast its foal, and since died. So Isobel\nYoung was of no more value to the world or its inheritors, and died by the\ncord and the faggot, decently, as a convicted witch should. And Margaret\nMaxwell and her daughter Jane were haled before the Lords of Secret\nCouncil for having procured the death of Edward Thomson, Jane's husband,\n\"by the devilish and detestable practice of witchcraft;\" and Janet Boyd\nwas tried for \"the foul and detestable crime\" of receiving the devil's\nmark, besides being otherwise dishonestly intimate with him; but this was\nin 1628, and we are now in 1629: and then the Lords of the Privy Council\npublished a thundering edict, forbidding all persons to have recourse to\nholy words, or to make pilgrimages to chapels, and requiring of its\nCommissioners to make diligent search in all parts for persons guilty of\nthis superstitious practice, and to have up and put in ward all such as\nwere known to be specially devoted thereto. The meaning of the decree was\nto plague the Catholics, and Hibbert quotes part of this \"Commission\nagainst Jesuits, Priests, or Communicants and Papists, going in\npilgrimage.\" But whatever the political significance of the edict, the\nsocial effect was to make the search after the White Witches, or Black,\nhotter and more bitter than ever.\n\n\nELSPETH CURSETTER AND HER FRIENDS.[29]\n\nElspeth Cursetter was tried, May 29 (still in 1629), for all sorts of bad\nactions. She bade one of her victims \"get the bones of ane tequhyt\n(linnet), and carry thame in your claithes\"; and she gave herself out as\nknowing evil, and able to do it too, when and to whomsoever she would; and\nshe sat down before the house of a man who refused her admittance--for she\nwas an ill-famed old witch, and every one dreaded her--saying, \"Ill might\nthey all thrive, and ill may they speed,\" whereby in fourteen days' time\nthe man's horse fell just where she had sat, and was killed most\nlamentably. But she cured a neighbour's cow by drawing a cog of water out\nof the burn that ran before William Anderson's door, coming back and\ntaking three straws--one for William Anderson's wife, and one for William\nCoitts' wife, and one for William Bichen's wife--which she threw into the\npail with the water, then put the same on the cow's back; by which charm\nthe three straws danced in the water, and the water bubbled as if it had\nbeen boiling. Then Elspeth took a little quantity of this charmed water,\nand thrust her arm up to the elbow into the cow's throat, and on the\ninstant the cow rose up as well as she had ever been; but William\nAnderson's ox, which was on the hill, dropped down dead. Likewise she\nworked unholy cantrips for a sick friend with a paddock (toad), in the\nmouth of a pail of water, which toad was too large to get down the mouth,\nand when it was cast forth another man sickened and died immediately: and\nshe spake dangerous words to a child, saying, \"Wally fall that quhyt head\nof thine, but the pox will tak the away frae thy mother.\" As it proved,\nfor the little white head was laid low a short time after, when the\nsmall-pox raged through the land. \"Thow can tell eneugh yf thow lyke,\"\nsaid the mother to her afterwards, \"that could tell that my bairne wold\ndie so long befoir the tyme.\" \"I can tell eneugh if I durst,\" replied\nElspeth, over proud for her safety. But in spite of all this testimony,\nElspeth got off with \"arbitrary punishment,\" which did not include burning\nor strangling, so was luckier than her neighbours. Luckier than poor Jonet\nRendall was, who, on the 11th of November (1629), was proved a witch by\nthe bleeding of the corpse of the poor wretch whom she had \"enchanted\" to\nhis death. For \"as soon as she came in the corpse having lain a good\nspace, and not having bled any, immediately bled much blood, as a sure\ntoken that she was the author of his death.\" And had she not said, too,\nwhen a certain man refused her a Christmas lodging, \"that it wald be weill\nif the gude man of that hous sould make ane other yule banket\" (Christmas\nbanquet); by which curse had he not died in fifteen days after? Wherefore\nwas she a proved murderess as well as witch, and received the doom\nappointed to both alike. Alexander Drummond was a warlock who cured all\nkinds of horrid diseases, the very names of which are enough to make one\nill; and he had a familiar, which had attended him for \"neir this fifty\nyeiris:\" so he was convicted and burnt.\n\nThen came Jonet Forsyth, great in her art. She could cast sickness on any\none at sea, and cure him again by a salt-water bath; she could transfer\nany disease from man to beast, so that when the beast died and was opened,\nnothing could be found where its heart should have been but \"a blob of\nwater;\" she knew how to charm and sain all kinds of cattle by taking\nthree drops of a beastie's blood on All Hallow E'en, and sprinkling the\nsame in the fire within the innermost chamber; she went at seed time and\nbewitched a stack of barley belonging to Michael Reid, so that for many\nyears he could never make it into wholesome malt; and this she did for the\ngain of Robert Reid, changing the \"profit\" of the grain backwards and\nforwards between the two, according as they challenged or displeased her.\nAll this did Jonet Forsyth of Birsay, to the terror of her neighbours and\nthe ultimate ruin of herself, both in soul and body. Then came Catherine\nOswald,[30] spouse to Robert Aitcheson, in Niddrie, who was brought to\ntrial for being \"habite and repute\" a witch--defamed by Elizabeth Toppock\nherself a witch and, as is so often the case, a dear friend of Katie's.\nElizabeth need not have been so eager to get rid of her dear friend and\ngossip, for she was burnt afterwards for the same crimes as those for\nwhich poor Catherine suffered the halter and the stake. It seems that\nKatie was bad for her enemies. She was offended at Adam Fairbairn and his\nwife, so she made their \"twa kye run mad and rammish to died,\" and also\nmade a gentleman's bairn that they had a-fostering run wood (mad) and die.\nAnd she fired William Heriot's kiln, full of grain; and burnt all his\ngoods before his eyes; and made his wife, in a \"frantick humour,\" drown\nherself; and she cursed John Clark's ground, so that for four years after\n\"by hir sorceries, naether kaill, lint, hempe, nor any other graine\" would\ngrow thereon, though doubly \"laboured and sowen.\" She bewitched Thomas\nScott by telling him that he looked as well as when Bessie Dobie was\nliving, whereby he immediately fell so deadly sick that he could not\nproceed further, but was carried on a horse to Newbiggin, where he lay\nuntil the morrow, when \"a wife\" came in and told him he was forespoken.\nAnd other things as mischievous--and as true--did Catherine Oswald, as the\nRecord testifies. She was well defended, and might have got off, but that\na witness deposed to having seen Mr. John Aird the minister, and a most\nzealous witch-finder, prick her in the shoulder with a prin, and that no\nblood followed thereafter, nor did she shrink as with pain or feeling. And\nas there was no gainsaying the evidence of the witch-mark, Satan and Mr.\nJohn Aird claimed their own. Was Catherine's brand like a \"blew spot, or a\nlittle tate, or reid spots, like flea-biting?\" or with \"the flesh sunk in\nand hallow?\" according to the description of such places, published by Mr.\nJohn Bell, minister of the gospel in Gladsmuir. We are seldom told of what\nprecise character the marks were, only that they were found, pricked, and\ntested, and the witch hung or burnt on their testimony.\n\n\nSANDIE AND THE DEVIL.[31]\n\nSoon after Catherine Oswald's execution, one of her crew or covin, who had\nbeen with her on the great storm in \"the borrowing days (in anno 1625), on\nthe Brae of the Saltpans,\" a noted warlock, by name Alexander Hunter, or\nHamilton, _alias_ Hatteraick, which last name he had gotten from the\ndevil, was brought to execution on the Castle Hill. It was in 1629 that he\nwas taken. It was proved that on Kingston hills he had met with the devil\nas a black man, or, as Sinclair says, as a mediciner; and often\nafterwards he would meet him riding on a black horse, or he would appear\nas a corbie, cat, or dog. When Alexander wanted him he would beat the\nground with a fir stick lustily, crying, \"Rise up, foul thief!\" for the\nmaster got but hard names at times from his servants. This fir stick, and\nfour shillings sterling, the devil gave to him when the compact was first\nmade between them; and he confessed, moreover, that when raised in this\nmanner he could only be got rid of by sacrificing to him a cat or dog, or\nsuch like, \"quick.\" Also he set on fire Provost Cockburn's mill of corn,\nby taking three stalks from his stacks, and burning them on Garleton\nHills; and he owned to a deadly hatred against Lady Ormiston, because she\nonce refused him \"ane almous,\" and called him \"ane custroune carle.\" So,\nto punish her, he and some witches raised the devil in Salton Wood, where\nhe appeared like a man in gray clothes, and gave him the bottom of a blue\nclew, telling him to lay it at the lady's door: \"which he and the women\nhaving done, 'the lady and her daughter were soon thereafter bereft of\ntheir naturall lyfe.'\" But Sinclair's account is the most graphic. I will\ngive it in his own words:--\n\n\"Anent Hattaraick, an old Warlock.\n\n\"This man's name was Sandie Hunter, who called himself Sandie Hamilton,\nand it seems so called Hattaraik by the devil, and so by others as a\nNickname. He was first a Neatherd in East Lothian, to a gentleman there.\nHe was much given to charming and cureing of men and Beasts, by words and\nspels. His charms sometimes succeeded and sometimes not. On a day, herding\nhis kine upon a Hill side in the summer time, the Devil came to him in\nform of a Mediciner, and said, 'Sandie, you have too long followed my\ntrade, and never acknowledged me for your master. You must now take on\nwith me, and I will make you more perfect in your calling.' Whereupon the\nman gave up himself to the devil, and received his Mark with this new\nname. After this he grew very famous throw the countrey for his charming\nand cureing of diseases in men and beasts, and turned a vagrant fellow\nlike a Jockie, gaining Meat, Flesh, and Money by his Charms, such was the\nignorance of many at that time.\n\n\"Whatever House he came to, none durst refuse Hattaraik an alms, rather\nfor his ill than his good. One day he came to the yait of Samuelstown,\nwhen some Friends after dinner were going to Horse. A young Gentleman,\nBrother to the Lady, seeing him, switcht him about the ears, saying, 'You\nWarlok Cairle, what have you to do here?' whereupon the Fellow goes away\ngrumbling, and was overheard to say, 'You shall dear buy this, ere it be\nlong.' This was _Damnum Minatum_. The young Gentleman conveyed his Friends\na far way off, and came home that way again, where he slept. After supper,\ntaking his horse and crossing Tine-water to go home, he rides throw a\nshadowy piece of a Haugh, commonly called the Allers, and the evening\nbeing somewhat dark he met with some Persons there that begat a dreadful\nconsternation in him, which for the most part he would never reveal. This\nwas _malum secutum_. When he came home, the Servants observed terror and\nfear in his countenance. The next day he became distracted, and was bound\nfor several days. His sister, the Lady Samuelstoun, hearing of it, was\nheard to say, 'Surely that knave Hattaraik is the cause of his Trouble.\nCall for him in all haste.' When he had come to her, 'Sandie,' says she,\n'what is this you have done to my brother William?' 'I told him,' says\nhe, 'I should make him repent his striking of me at the Yait lately.' She\ngave the Rogue fair words, and promising him his Pock full of Meal with\nBeef and Cheese, persuaded the Fellow to cure him again. He undertook the\nbusiness; 'but I must first,' says he, 'have one of his Sarks,' which was\nsoon gotten. What pranks he plaid with it cannot be known. But within a\nshort while the gentleman recovered his health. When Hatteraik came to\nreceive his wadges, he told the Lady, 'Your Brother William shal quickly\ngoe off the Countrey but shall never return.' She, knowing the Fellow's\nprophecies to hold true, caused her Brother to make a Disposition to her\nof all his patrimony, to the defrauding of his younger brother George.\nAfter that this Warlock had abused the Countrey for a long time, he was at\nlast apprehended at Dunbar, and brought into Edinburgh, and burnt upon the\nCastle Hill.\" But not until he had delated several others of hitherto good\nrepute, so that for the next few months the witch-finder's hands were\nfull.\n\n\nTHE MIDWIFE'S DOUBLE SIN.\n\nNotably was arrested about this time, Alie Nisbet, midwife; and three\nothers. Alie was accused of witchcraft; and of a softer, but as heinous a\ncrime as witchcraft. This she confessed to; but the breaking of the\nseventh commandment in Christian Scotland, in the year 1632, was a far\nmore dangerous thing than we can imagine possible in our laxer day; and\nAlie was on the horns of a dilemma, either of which could land her in\nruin, death, and perdition. She was accused, among other things, of\nhaving taken her labour pains from off a certain woman, using \"charmes and\nhorrible words, amongs which thir ware some, _the bones to the fire and\nthe soull to the devill_;\" but this Alie denied, strenuously, though she\nadmitted that she might have bathed the woman's legs in warm water, which\nshe had bewitched for good, by putting her fingers into it and running\nthrice round the bed, widershins; but the spoken charm as given she would\nhave none of. The labour pains, however, left the woman, and were foully\nand unnaturally cast upon another who had no concern therewith, so that\nshe died in four-and-twenty hours from that time, and Alie was the\nmurderess by all the laws of sorcery. She was accused, also, of having\npoured some enchanted water on a threshold over which a servant girl,\nagainst whom she had a spite, must pass, and the servant girl died\ntherefrom. Alie was wirriet and burnt and troubled the world no more.\n\n\nKATHERINE GRIEVE AND JOHN SINCLAIR.[32]\n\nKatherine Grieve, too (1633), was brought to judgment and sentenced to be\n\"taken to the mercat crose and brunt in the cheick, in example of others,\"\nwith the future prospect, that if she haunted suspected places, or used\ncharms \"scho sould be brunt in asches to the dead without dome or law, and\nthat willinglie, of hir owne consent.\" For Katherine's curses had wronged\nboth man and beast, which evil thing she had brought to pass by the power\nof the devil her master. However, she was forced to undo her evil, and by\nlaying on of hands cure the sore she had made: so she got off with this\nsmaller punishment of branding, and a rebuke. And there was John Sinclair\ntried that same year; a cruel villain to others, if loving to his own. For\nunder silence and cloud of night he took his distempered sister, sitting\nbackward on the horse, and carried her from where she lay to the Kirk of\nHoy. Then a voice came to him, saying \"Seven is too many, but four might\ndo;\" and in the morning a boat with five men in it struck on the rocks,\nand four perished, but one was saved; by which fiendish and unholy\nsacrifice John Sinclair's sister was cured. He was proved to be their\nmurderer, for when the dead men were found, and he was \"forcit to lay his\nhandis vpoun thame, they guishit out with bluid and watter at the mouth\nand noise.\" John Sinclair's thread of life needed no more waxing to make\nit run smoothly and easily. The hangman knew where the knot lay; and cut\nit to the perfect satisfaction of all the country.\n\n\nBESSIE BATHGATE'S NIPS.[33]\n\nA year after this Bessie Bathgate, spouse to Alexander Rae, fell into\ntrouble and the hands of the police. George Sprot, wobster, had some cloth\nof Bessie's, which he kept too long for her thinking. She went and took it\nviolently away, and nipped his child in the thigh till it skirled, \"and of\nwhich nip it never convalesced, but dwamed thereof and died by hir\nsorcerie.\" Also, said Sprot's wife, giving her child an egg that came out\nof Bessie's house there struck out a lump as big as a goose egg upon the\nchild, which continued on her till her death, which was occasioned by\nnothing else than this \"enchanted egg.\" Furthermore she threatened Sprot\nthat \"he should never get his Sunday's meat to the fore by his work;\" and\nhe forthwith fell into extreme poverty, by which her words came true. To\nWilliam Donaldson she said--he outrunning her as she chased him to beat\nhim for calling her a witch--\"Weill, sir, the devill be in your feit,\" and\nhe fell lame and impotent straightways, and so continued ever since. Other\nthings of the same kind did she, bewitching Margaret Horne's cow that it\ndied, \"and that night it died there was women seen dancing on the rigging\nof the byre;\" also she was seen by \"two young men at 12 howers at even\n(when all persons are in their beds) standing barelegged and in hir sark\nvalicot, at the back of hir yard, conferring with the devill, who was in\ngray cloaths;\" which, with other offences of the same nature, were, we\nshould have thought, heavy enough to have lost a world. But Elizabeth\nBathgate, spouse to Alexander Rae, was acquitted; though how the verdict\ncame about no one can possibly understand.\n\nIt was not that any fit of mercy or humanity had come over the people.\nMore than twenty poor wretches suffered about this time, Sir George Home\nof Manderston, being one of the chief of the prosecutors: for Sir George\nand his wife did not live very lovingly together, and she was given to\nwitches and warlocks--or they said she was--to see if she could not get\nrid of him by enchantments and sorceries: so Sir George had a pleasant\nmixture of spite and self-defence in his onslaught, and the whole\ncountry-side was in a stir. About this time too, John Balfour, of\nCorhouse, took on himself the office of witch-finder and pricker by\nthrusting \"preens\" into the marks; but he was not accepted quite blindly,\nand measures were taken for examining his pretensions to this special\nbranch of knowledge. In general the pricker was the master of the\nsituation, and brought all the rest to his feet.\n\n\nBESSIE SKEBISTER.[34]\n\nAll the honest men of the isle knew Bessie Skebister. She was the\nshrewdest witch in the whole country, and it was a usual thing with them\nwhen they thought their boats in danger to send to her to know the truth;\nand, \"Giff Bessie say it is weill, it is weill\" was a common proverb in\nthe Orkney Islands. She did other things besides foreknowing the fall of\nstorms, for she took James Sandieson when in a strange distemper and\ntormented him greatly. \"In his sleip, and oftymes waking,\" says the\ndittay, \"he was tormented with yow, Bessie, and vther two with yow, quhom\nhe knew not, cairying him to the sea, and to the fyre, to Norroway,\nYetland, and to the south--that ye had ridden all this wayes, with ane\nbrydle in his mouth.\" Moreover, Bessie was a \"dreamer of dreams,\" as well\nas a rider of sick men's souls; so she was strangled and burnt.\n\n\nTHE TRIAL OF SPIRITS.[35]\n\nThe trial of Katherine Craigie (1640), had a certain dash of poetry and\nromance in it, not often found in these woeful stories. Friend Robbie--now\nfriend, now foe--lay a-dying, and Katherine must needs go see him with\nthe rest. The wild waves were beating round that rugged Orkney Isle, when\nKatherine went over the heather to Robbie's house. \"What now, Robbie! ye\nare going to die!\" she said. \"I grant that I prayed ill for yow, and now I\nsee that prayer hath taken effect. Jonet,\" quoth she, turning to the wife,\n\"if I durst trust in yow, I sould knaw quhat lyeth on your guidman and\nholdis him downe. I sould tell whether it was ane hill spirit, ane kirk\nspirit, or ane water spirit that so troubles him.\" Jonet was too anxious\nnot to promise secrecy or help, or anything else that Katherine wished; so\nthe next morning, before daylight, Katherine brought three stones to\nRobbie's house, and put them into the fire, where they remained until\nafter sunset. While the night was passing, they were taken from the fire,\nand put under the threshold of the door, then, in the early morning,\nthrown, one after the other, into a pail of water, where Jonet heard one\nof them \"chirle and chirme.\" Upon which Katherine said that it was a kirk\nspirit that troubled the guidman Robbie, and he must be washed with the\nwater in which the stones had \"chirled and chirmed.\" This ceremony was\nrepeated thrice, and at the third time Katherine herself washed Robbie, on\nwhom this unusual cleansing had most powerful and beneficial effects. When\none thinks of the normal state of filth in which these honest people\nlived, it is not surprising if any form of ablution proved of a most\nsupernatural benefit. But Katherine Craigie got into the trouble from\nwhich there was no escape; and friend Robbie went back to his dirt,\npersuaded of the Satanic agency of a bath.\n\nQuite as full of poetic feeling was James Knarstoun's manner of charming\nwith stones, when he took one stone for the ebb, another for the hill, and\nthe third for the kirkyard, listening carefully as to what stone should\nmake the \"bullering\" noise that would betray the tormenting spirit, and\nenable the magician to send him home again: a process through which\nKatherine Carey went (1617) when she found that her patient was troubled\nwith the spirit of the sea, which would not let him bide in peace and\nquiet. Such touches as these redeem the subject from the sad monotony of\nsorrow and death which else pervades it from end to end, and lift it from\nthe domain of the devil into the brighter and lovelier world of the\nSpirits of Nature.\n\n\nSIXTEEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-THREE.\n\nIn 1643 there was a fierce onslaught against the poor persecuted servants\nof the devil. Thirty women suffered at once in Fife alone; and the more\nzealous of the ministers hounded on the people to terrible cruelties.\nThere was one John Brugh,[36] \"a notorious warlock in the parachin of\nFossoquhy, by the space of 36 yearis,\" who was wirreit at a stake and\nburnt; and Janet Barker and Margaret Lauder, \"indwellers and servands in\nEdinburgh,\" who came to confession boldly, and showed that they had read\nthe story of Europa to some purpose, though to a great deal of confusion.\nThey accused Janet Cranstoun of seducing them, by promising them that if\nthey gave themselves over to her and the devil, they should be \"as trimlie\nclad as the best servands in Edinburgh.\" Coupled with the fact that they\nhad witch-marks, their confession was accepted as undeniable, and their\nfate inevitably sealed.\n\nAnd there was Marion Cumlaquoy,[37] in Birsay, who bewitched David\nCumlaquoy's corn seed, and made it run out too soon. She had been very\nanxious to know when David would sow, and when she was told, she went and\nstood \"just to his face\" all the time he was casting, and that year his\nseed failed him, so that he could only sow a third of his land; though he\nhad as much grain as heretofore, and it had never run out too soon all the\nyears he had farmed that land. And she went to Robert Carstairs' house by\nsunrise one day, bringing milk to his good mother, though not used to show\nsuch attention; and as she left she turned herself three several times\n\"withershins\" about the fire, and that year Robert Carstairs' \"bear\n(barley) was blew and rottin,\" and his oats gave no proper meal, but made\nall who ate thereof heart-sick, albeit both bear and oats were good and\nfresh when he put them in the yard. And if all this was not proof against\nMarion Cumlaquoy, what would the Orkney courts hold as proof? As the past,\nso the present; and Marion Cumlaquoy must learn in prison and at the stake\nthe evils that honest folk found in her power of \"enchanting\" corn and\ncrops. There were many others in this same year, to catalogue whom would\nbecome at least wearisome and monotonous: they must be passed by\nunmentioned, and left to the silence and oblivion which is the privilege\nof the unfortunate dead.\n\nBut among the victims was one Agnes Finnie,[38] a bitter-tongued,\nevil-tempered old hag, who had a curse and a threat for every one who\noffended her; who killed young Fairlie with a terrible disorder, because\nhe called her \"Winnie Annie;\" and laid so frightful a disease on Beatrix\nNisbet, for some other trifling offence, that she lost the use of her\ntongue; who made a \"grit jist\" (great joist) fall down on the leg of\nEuphame Kincaid's daughter, because Euphame called her a witch on being\ncalled by her a drunkard; and appeared to John Cockburn in the night--the\ndoors and windows being fast closed--terrifying him by her hideous old\napparition in his sleep, because he had disagreed with her daughter; and\nwho did all other wicked and uncanny things, like a raving, unprincipled,\nold hag as she was. She even forespoke Alexander Johnstone's bairne, so\nthat it was eleven years old before it could walk, and all because she was\nnot made godmother, or \"had not gotten its name;\" and she made Margaret\nWilliamson sick and blind, by saying most outrageously, \"The devill blaw\nthe blinde!\" And she was a bad mother and evil exemplar to her daughter,\nbringing her up to be as vile as herself, at least in the way of\nquarrelling and fighting with her neighbours, and then backing her with an\nunfair amount of her own supernatural powers. Thus, one day, Margaret\nRobinson, the daughter in question, was using high words with Mawse\nGourlay, spouse of Andrew Wilson, and Mawse, in a rage, called her \"ane\nwitche's get,\" which was about the worst thing that could be said in those\ndays between a couple of scolds. \"Gif I be ane witche's get,\" cried\nMargaret, in extremest fury, \"the devill ryve the saull out of ye befoir I\ncome again!\" After which cruel and devilish imprecation, helped on by\nWinnie Annie's horrible art used at Margaret's instigation, Andrew Wilson\nbecame \"frenatik\" and stark mad: his eyes starting out of his head in the\nmost terrible and frightful manner as he went about, ever pronouncing\nthese words as his ordinary and continual speech--the perpetual raving of\nhis madness--\"The devill ryve the saull out o' me!\" For all which\ncrimes--though she was ably defended--though, when her house was searched,\n\"there was neither picture, toad, nor any such thing found therein, which\never any witch in the world was used to practize,\"--yet the evidence was\nheld to be too strong, and Winnie Annie Finnie was ordained to be \"brunt\nto the deid,\" and her ashes cast out to the winds of heaven.\n\nJanet Brown[39] was another of those who got into hot quarters. She\nconfessed that she had charmed James Hutton and Janet Scott with these\nwords:--\n\n  \"Our Lord forth did raide,\n  His foal's foot slade;\n  Our Lord down lighted,\n  His foal's foot righted;\n  Saying flesh to flesh, blood to blood, and stane to stane,\n  In our Lord his name.\"\n\n\nShe said this was a charm that had been learnt her by a nameless man from\nStrathmiglo; but Margaret Fisher,[40] in Weardie, spoke it somewhat\ndifferently. She had for her spell:--\n\n  \"Our Lord to hunting red,\n  His sool-soot sled,\n  Down he lighted,\n  His sool-soot righted;\n  Blod to blod,\n  Shinew to shinew,\n  To the other sent in God's name,\n  In the name of the Father, Sone, and Holy Ghost.\"\n\nEither version was equally efficacious as a cure to the sick and a curse\nto the whole; and equally deadly as a crime in those who used it. And\nthere was Margaret Young, \"ane honest young woman of good reputation,\nwithout any scandal or blot,\" who lay miserably in prison for ten weeks,\nwithout trial or release; but she got off at last on her husband's\nbecoming her surety. And Jonet Thomeson, who bewitched Andrew Burwick's\ncorn, so that when carried to the mill it leapt up into his wife's face\nlike mites, and as it were \"nipped\" her face until it swelled; and when it\nwas made into \"meat,\" neither he nor his wife could abide the smell of it;\nand when they did manage to eat it, it tasted like pins (\"went owre lyke\nprinsis\"), and could not be quenched for thirst: and the dogs would not\neat of it, and the neighbours would not buy it; so poor Andrew Burwick's\ngear was destroyed, and his means most sorely diminished. For all which\ndeadly sorcery and malice Jonet Thomeson, _alias_ Greibok, was made to\nsmart severely.\n\nMarion Peebles[41] came to an untimely end, not unreasonably, according to\nthe witch-haters. She was \"a wicked, devilish, fearful, and abominable\ncurser,\" and the world could not be too soon rid of her; for had she not\nchanged herself into the likeness of an unchristian beast, a mere\nshapeless monster, a huge and ugly \"pellack-quhaill\" (porpoise), and in\nthis form wrecked the boat of Edward Halcro, to whom she and her husband\nhad \"ane deadlie and veneficial malice?\" Halcro and four other men were in\nthe boat, and public suspicion pointed at once to Marion, and affirmed\nthis wreck to be caused by her wicked deed. So when two of the dead bodies\nwere brought to land, she and her husband had to undergo the\n_bahr-recht_--the ordeal by touch of the dead--to prove themselves\ninnocent or guilty. When they came where they lay the \"said umquhile\nEdward bled at the collar-bane or craig-bane;\" the other in the hand and\nfingers, \"gushing out bluid thairat, to the great admiration of the\nbeholders, and judgment of the Almytie.\" Many and heavy were Marion's\nmisdeeds. She cursed Janet Robinson, and \"accordingly showers of pains and\nfits fell upon the victim.\" She looked upon a cow, and it \"crappit\ntogidder till no lyfe was leukit for her.\" She took away the profit of\nEdward Halcro's brewing, and destroyed the milk of Andrew Erasmusson's kye\nfor thirteen days. Indeed, her character was so well known that when\nSwene, her husband, was working in a peat moss where a sickly fellow was\none of the gang, his fellows would ask him seriously \"if he could not make\nhis wife go to her pobe (foster-father) the devil, and bid him loose a\nknot, so that the man might get back his health?\" Once she cast a sickness\non a woman, then took it from her and flung it on a calf, which went mad\nand died; and she crippled a man, then cured him under compulsion, by\nputting her fingers first to his leg and then to the ground, which she did\ntwice, muttering to herself; but the report of this getting about, she was\nangry and banned the man once more, yet once more was forced to cure\nhim;--this time by means of a bannock prepared with her own hands, whereby\nshe cast his malady on a cow. Poor cowey died of her strange sickness, and\npoor Marion died of a worse disease--the rope and the faggot: and then the\nneighbourhood slept in peace.\n\n\nSINCLAIR'S STORIES.[42]\n\nOn a certain day in a certain month, A.D. 1644, a woman went to the house\nof another woman in Borrowstonness. She went early, and instantly fell to\nmauling and pulling her, crying, \"Thou traitour thief, thou thought to\ndestroy my son this morning, but it was not in thy power!\" And then she\npulled her mutch from off her head, and mauled and maltreated her anew.\nNow the meaning of the row was, that this woman had a son out at sea, whom\nshe, so cruelly assaulted, had sought to destroy by means of a sudden\nstorm raised by magic means this very day. The storm was actually raised,\nand many of the crew suffered; but the son of the woman at Borrowstonness\nwas washed overboard by one wave, and washed on board again by another\nwave, which so filled all the mariners with amaze that they came ashore.\nThe dispute between the two women becoming noised abroad, and the thing\nbeing as the one had said, it was found that they were both in equal\nfault--that the one had done, and the other known, too much; wherefore\nthey were burnt as witches, and the world had the satisfaction of hearing\nthem confess before they died.\n\nAnother woman, \"about thirty and two, or three and thirty years of age, a\nmost beautiful and comely person as was in the country about,\" wife to one\nGoodaile, a cooper, in Carrin, was fyled for a witch and put in prison.\nShe was the devil's favourite and dear delight; and at their meetings she\nwas the person whom \"he did most court and embrace, calling her constantly\nmy dear mistress, setting her always at his right hand, to the great\ndiscontent of his old haggs, whom, as they now conceived, he slighted;\"\nbut her time came at last, and the law caught hold of her in place of the\ndevil, and gave her a yet more stringent embrace. James Fleming, a\nsea-captain, and a man of great personal courage and physical strength,\nwas set to watch her, for the magistrates feared lest the devil should\nattempt her rescue, since he loved her so well; and to him she said, that\nif she got no deliverance by one o'clock in the morning, she would lay her\nbreast open to him and confess freely. James Fleming, a little alarmed at\nthis, and not liking to encounter the devil single-handed, took down\nfourteen of his ship's company with him, \"not forgetting the reading of\nScripture and earnest prayer to God.\" Sure enough the foul fiend came: for\non a sudden at midnight a tremendous hurricane arose, which unroofed the\nhouse where they all were, and threatened to bring the whole place about\ntheir ears, and a voice was heard calling to her by a strange name to come\naway: \"at which time she made three several loups upward, increasing\ngradually till her feet were as high as his breast.\" But though James\nFleming's hair was standing widershins on his head, and though his heart\nfailed him for dread and fear, and he \"beteached\" himself to God \"with\ngreat amazement,\" yet his muscles continued as serviceable as ever, and at\nlast got the better even of the Prince of Darkness. He held this beautiful\nand comely person in his powerful arms, and kept her there, through all\nher struggles to get free; and at last succeeded in throwing her down upon\nthe ground, where for some time she grovelled and foamed like one in the\nfalling sickness, and then sank into a deep sleep. When she awaked she\ncomplained bitterly of the devil, saying how that he had promised to\nrelease her and carry her over to Ireland, touching at Paisley by the way,\nwhere she had a sister living; but now she saw through all his treachery\nand perfidiousness, and understood how she had been made his dupe. She was\nburnt in all penitence and good conduct, as was also another woman about\nthe same time, who, putting up her arm to swear that she was not a witch,\nhad it suddenly withered and stiffened so that she could not bring it back\nagain; nor was she able to do so, until a minister who was there, had\nintreated God in her behalf; for the ministers were always men of mighty\npower on such occasions, and either made or marred at their pleasure. If\nthey chose to accept a case as possession, they prayed and exorcised; but\nif it seemed good to them to call it witchcraft, then the poor wretch's\nlife was doomed, and no man might hope to save. It was very seldom they\ncared so much for humanity as to choose the more merciful of the two\nabsurdities. Sometimes, though, the devil was as good as his word, and\nmade at least an attempt, if a clumsy one, to release his servants: as\nwhen he took Helen Eliot from the steeple of Culross where she was\nconfined, and carried her in his arms through the air. He might have\nlanded her in safety somewhere--who knows?--had she not cried out, \"O God!\nwhither are you taking me?\" At which words he let her fall \"at the\ndistance from the steeple of about the breadth of the street of Edinburgh,\nwhereby she broke her legs and otherwise seriously injured herself.\" Many\nthousand people flocked to see the dimple which her heels had made, and\nover which no grass would grow again. So at last they built a stone dyke\nround it, and kept the impression safe.\n\nIn 1649 Lady Pittathrow was delated of witchcraft. She was put in prison\nwaiting for her trial; but one morning she was found dead, having\nstrangled herself, or been strangled by the devil--the world might\ndetermine which according to its pleasure. Shortly after, Bessie Grahame\nwas apprehended for a few drunken words said against John Rankin's wife,\nwho had since died. During a confinement of thirteen weeks she was\nvisited by the minister, who found her obdurate in confession, and was\nmuch inclined to find her innocent of crime. But Alexander Bogue, a\npricker, came to examine her, and discovered the mark, into which he\nthrust a pin, which neither pained nor drew blood. Still she was held to\nbe innocent, until one day Mr. James Fergusson, the minister, heard her\ntalking to the devil as soon as she was alone. He knew it was the devil,\nfor his voice was hollow and ghoustie, and the servant, Alexander Sympson,\nwas like to have fallen back for fear. Still Bessie would never confess\nanything beyond general unworthiness and the usual tale of vague misdeeds,\nowning, indeed, to a special horror of him, the minister, and how she was\nnot \"let to love him,\" as indeed was no special miracle; and then she fell\nto railing at him bitterly, which was less a miracle than all else. So she\nwas burnt, dying obdurate and unconfessed; and thus another murder reeked\nup to heaven, crying aloud for vengeance, because John Rankin's wife died\nsuddenly, and an intemperate old woman swore in her cups and had a habit\nof speaking to herself.\n\nAgnes Gourlay was accused of charming milk. She told Anna Simpson to throw\na small quantity of the milk into the \"grupe\" or sewer of the byre,\nsaying, \"God betak us to! May be they are under the earth that have as\nmuch need of it as they that are above the earth!\" After which bread and\nsalt were to be put into the cows' ears, and milk would come. Agnes got\noff by penance and confession: which was more than Janet Couts did, or\nArchibald Watt, _alias_ \"Sole the Paitlet;\" though eleven other poor\ncreatures delated escaped their doom, partly because the burgh of Lanark\ndisliked having so many mouths to feed in prison pending their trial.\n\nAt Lauder, in 1649, Hob Grieve was accused of witchcraft. Twenty years\nagone his wife, who had been burnt for a witch, told Hob that he might get\nrich if he would follow her counsel and go along with her. So he went with\nher to a haugh on Gallow-water, to meet, as she said, a gentleman there;\nbut he saw only a large mastiff dog, \"which amazed him.\" At last came the\ndevil as a black man, telling him that if he would take suit and service\nwith him he should be made rich. He was to be officer at the meetings, and\nhold the door at the sabbaths. Hob consented, and for eighteen years held\nthat office; but it does not seem that the foul fiend kept his part of the\ncondition, for Hob had enough to do to find salt for his porridge. He was\nalways poor, and remained poor to the end, with all the kicks and none of\nthe halfpence; and for his eighteen years of servitude got only suspicion\nand ill-will, without fat or fry to comfort him. When taken, he \"delated\"\nmany, who, for the most part, confessed. After he had filled the prison,\nso that it could hold no more, he accused another still, a woman of\nLauder. The magistrate kept the secret, wishing to wait until some of the\naccused were \"emptied out,\" having nowhere to put her; but the devil,\nalways at mischief, went to her in the night time, and told her what Hob\nGrieve had said. Next day she arose and came to the prison, railing at\nHob, calling him warlock and slave to the devil, and what not. She was\ntold to go home, but she sat down on the Tolbooth stairs, and said she\nwould never stir until she and that slave of Satan had been confronted.\nThe bailie himself came to her, and told her to go home; but that was too\nmild a proceeding. \"No,\" she cried, \"I must be set face to face with that\nrascal who has delated me, an honest woman, for a witch.\" She was set face\nto face with him, and she fell down on her bare knees, and cursed him.\nSays she, \"Thou common thief, how dare thou for thy soul say that ever\nbefore this time thou saw me or I saw thee, or ever was in thy company,\neither alone or with others?\" Hob listened to her railings patiently, till\ncommanded by the bailie to speak, when says he, \"How came she then to know\nthat I had called her a witch? Surely none but the devil, thy old master\nand mine, has told thee so much.\" \"The devil and thou perish together, for\nhe is not my master though he be thine. I defy the devil and all his\nworks!\" said the woman. Then Hob reminded her of the many times and places\nwhere they had met while in the same service; whereat she cried, \"Now I\nperceive that the devil is a lyar and a murderer from the beginning, for\nthis night he came to me, and told me to come and abuse thee; and never\ncome away till I was confronted with thee, and he assured me that thou\nwould deny all and say, thou false tongue, thou lyest!\" She then confessed\nall with which she was charged, and was executed. Hob was a very penitent\nsinner: being now a mere lunatic, he was easy to manage, and exceeding\nconfidential in his confessions. He said that once in Musselburgh water\nthe devil had tried to drown him when he had a heavy creil on his back;\nand even since he had been in prison he had come to cast him into the\nfire. But though there was a very crowd \"fylit\" by this poor maniac, he\nwas innocent of the death of a certain woman who was hanged a short time\nafter. The magistrates, glutted to satiety with victims, wanted to save\nher; but she would accept no chance offered to her. She had been fyled as\na witch, she said, and as a witch she would die. And had not the devil\nonce, when she was a young lassie, kissed her, and given her a new name?\nReason enough why she should die, if even nothing worse lay behind. At\nlast the day of her execution came, and she was taken out to be burnt with\nthe rest. On her way to the scaffold she made this lamentable\nspeech:--\"Now all you that see me this day, know that I am now to die a\nwitch by my own confession; and I free all men, especially the ministers\nand magistrates, of the guilt of my blood. I take it wholly on myself. My\nblood be upon my own head; and as I must make answer to the God of heaven\npresently, I declare I am as free of witchcraft as any child; but being\ndelated by a malicious woman, and put in prison under the name of a witch,\ndisowned by my husband and friends, and seeing no ground of hope of my\ncoming out of prison or ever coming in credit again, through a temptation\nof the devil, I made up that confession on purpose to destroy my own life,\nbeing weary of it, and choosing rather to die than to live.\" How many poor\nwretches had been like this unhappy creature--disowned by husband and\nfriends, seeing no ground of hope of ever coming in credit again, and\ntherefore in despair choosing rather to die than to live! In this special\ncase even the magistrates, usually so passionately determined that all the\naccused should be found guilty and suffer death, even they seem to have\nsought her release, and to have refused the evidence of her confession as\nlong as they could; but the times were not sufficiently enlightened for\nthem to refuse it altogether; and so she gained the fiery goal whither her\nanguish and despair impelled her.\n\n\nMANIE HALIBURTON.[43]\n\nIn 1649, John Kinnaird, the witch-finder, made deposition that he had\n\"pricked\" Patrik Watson, of West Fenton, and Manie Haliburton, his spouse,\nand that he had found the devil's mark on Patrik's back a little under the\npoint of his left shoulder, and on Manie's neck a little above her left\nshoulder; of which marks they were not sensible (had no feeling in them),\nneither came there any blood when pricked. So Manie, seeing that the scent\nwas hot and the game up, made confession, and saved further trouble. She\nsaid that eighteen years ago, the devil had come to her in likeness of a\nman, calling himself a physician, saying that he had good salves, and\nspecially oylispek (oil of spike or spikenard), wherewith he would cure\nher daughter, then sick. So she bought some of his salves, and gave him\ntwo English shillings for her bargain, forbye bread and milk and a pint of\nale. In eight days' time he came again, and stayed all night; and the next\nmorning, Patrik being \"forth\" and Manie yet in bed, she became more\nintimately acquainted with the devil than an honest woman should. We do\nnot read that Manie was tortured, and, considering that it was not an\nunusual thing to keep suspected witches twenty-eight days and nights on\nbread and water, they being stripped stark naked, with only a haircloth\nover them, and laid on a cold stone, or to put them into hair-shirts\nsteeped in vinegar, so that the skin might be pulled from off them, we\nfeel that poor Manie got off pretty well with only cremation as the result\nof her mad confessions.\n\nBut one of the most extraordinary things of all was that wonderful bit of\nknavery and credulity called\n\n\nTHE DEVIL OF GLENLUCE,[44]\n\nwhen Master Tom Campbell set the whole country in a flame, and brought no\nend of notice and sympathy upon his house and family. In 1654 one Gilbert\nCampbell was a weaver in Glenluce, a small village not far from Newton\nStewart. Tom, his eldest son, and the most important personage in the\ndrama, was a student at Glasgow College; and there was a certain old\nblaspheming beggar, called Andrew Agnew--afterwards hanged at Dumfries for\nhis atheism, having said, in the hearing of credible witnesses, that\n\"there was no God but salt, meal, and water\"--who every now and then came\nto Glenluce to ask alms. One day old Andrew visited the Campbells as\nusual, but got nothing; at which he cursed and swore roundly, and\nforthwith sent a devil to haunt the house, for it was soon after this\nrefusal that the stirs began, and the connection was too apparent to be\ndenied. For what could they be but the malice of the devil sent by old\nAndrew in revenge? Young Tom Campbell was the worst beset of all, the\ndemon perpetually whistling and rioting about him, and playing him all\nsorts of diabolical and malevolent tricks. Once, too, Jennet, the young\ndaughter, going to the well, heard a whistling behind her like that\nproduced by \"the small slender glass whistles of children,\" and a voice\nlike the damsel's, saying, \"I'll cast thee, Jennet, into the well! I'll\ncast thee, Jennet, into the well!\" About the middle of November, when the\ndays were dark and the nights long, things got very bad. The foul fiend\nthrew stones in at the doors and windows, and down the chimney head; cut\nthe warp and threads of Campbell's loom; slit the family coats and bonnets\nand hose and shoon into ribbons; pulled off the bed-clothes from the\nsleeping children, and left them cold and naked, besides administering\nsounding slaps on those parts of their little round rosy persons usually\nheld sacred to the sacrifices of the rod; opened chests and trunks, and\nstrewed the contents over the floor; knocked everything about, and\nill-treated bairn and brother; and, in fact, persecuted the whole family\nin the most merciless manner. The weaver sent his children away, thinking\ntheir lives but barely safe, and _in their absence there were no assaults\nwhatever_--a thing to be specially noted. But on the minister's\nrepresenting to him that he had done a grievous sin in thus withdrawing\nthem from God's punishments, they were brought back again in contrition.\nOnly Tom was left behind, and nothing ensued until Tom appeared; but\nunlucky Tom brought back the devil with him, and then there was no more\npeace to be had.\n\nOn the Sunday following Master Tom's return, the house was set on\nfire--the devil's doing: but the neighbours put the flames out again\nbefore much damage had ensued. Monday was spent in prayer; but on Tuesday\nthe place was again set on fire, to be again saved by the neighbours'\nhelp. The weaver, in much trouble, went to the minister, and besought him\nto take back that unlucky Tom, whom the devil so cruelly followed and\nmolested; which request he, after a time, \"condescended to,\" though\nassuring the weaver that he would find himself deceived if he thought\nthat the devil would quit with the boy. And so it proved; for Tom, having\nnow indoctrinated some of his juniors with the same amount of mechanics\nand legerdemain as he himself possessed, managed that they should be still\nsore troubled--the demon cutting their clothes, throwing peats down the\nchimney, pulling off turf and \"feal\" from the roof and walls, stealing\ntheir coats, pricking their poor bodies with pins, and raising such a\nclamour that there was no peace or rest to be had.\n\nThe case was becoming serious. Glenluce objected to be made the\nhead-quarters of the devil; and the ministers convened a solemn meeting\nfor fast and humiliation; the upshot of which was that weaver Campbell was\nled to take back his unlucky Tom, with the devil or without him. For this\nwas the point at issue in the beginning; the motive of which is not hard\nto be discovered. Whereupon Tom returned; but as he crossed the threshold\nhe heard a voice \"forbidding him to enter that house, or any other place\nwhere his father's calling was exercised.\" Was Tom, the Glasgow student,\nafraid of being made a weaver, consent or none demanded? In spite of the\nwarning voice he valiantly entered, and his persecutions began at once. Of\ncourse they did. They were tremendous, unheard of, barbarous; in fact, so\nbad that he was forced to return once more for a time to the minister's\nhouse; but his imitator or disciple left behind carried on business in his\nabsence. On Monday, the 12th day of February, the demon began to speak to\nthe family, who, nothing afraid, answered quite cheerily: so they and the\ndevil had long confidential chats together, to the great improvement of\nmind and morals. The ministers, hearing of this, convened again, and met\nat weaver Campbell's, to see what they could do. As soon as they entered,\nSatan began: \"Quum literatum is good Latin,\" quoth he. These were the\nfirst words of the Latin rudiments, as taught in the grammar-school. Tom's\nclassical knowledge was coming into play.\n\nAfter a while he cried out, \"A dog! a dog!\" The minister, thinking he was\nalluded to, answered, \"He thought it no evil to be reviled of him;\" to\nwhich Satan replied civilly, \"It was not you, sir, I spoke to: I meant the\ndog there;\" for there was a dog standing behind backs. They then went to\nprayer, during which time Tom--or the devil--remained reverently silent;\nhis education being not yet carried out to the point of scoffing.\nImmediately after prayer was ended, a counterfeit voice cried out, \"Would\nyou know the witches of Glenluce? I will tell of them,\" naming four or\nfive persons of indifferent repute, but one of whom was dead. The weaver\ntold the devil this, thinking to have caught him tripping; but the foul\nfiend answered promptly, \"It is true she is dead long ago, but her spirit\nis living with us in the world.\"\n\nThe minister replied, saying, \"Though it was not convenient to speak to\nsuch an excommunicated and intercommuned person, 'the Lord rebuke thee,\nSatan, and put thee to silence. We are not to receive information from\nthee, whatsoever fame any person goes under. Thou art seeking but to\nseduce this family, for Satan's kingdom is not divided against itself.'\"\nAfter which little sparring there was prayer again; so Tom did not take\nmuch by this move.\n\nAll the while the young Glasgow student was very hardly holden, so that\nthere was more prayer on his special behalf. The devil then said, on their\nrising, \"Give me a spade and a shovel, and depart from the house for\nseven days, and I will make a grave and lie down in it, and shall trouble\nyou no more.\"\n\nThe good man Campbell answered, \"Not so much as a straw shall be given\nthee, through God's assistance, even though that would do it. God shall\nremove thee in due time.\" Satan cried out, impudently, \"I shall not remove\nfor you. I have my commission from Christ to tarry and vex this family.\"\nSays the minister, coming to the weaver's assistance, \"A permission thou\nhast, indeed; but God will stop it in due time.\" Says the demon,\nrespectfully, \"I have, sir, a commission which perhaps will last longer\nthan yours.\" And the minister died in the December of that year, says\nSinclair. Furthermore, the demon said he had given Tom his commission to\nkeep. Interrogated, that young gentleman replied in an off-hand way, that\n\"he had had something put into his pocket, but it did not tarry.\" They\nthen began to search about for the foul fiend, and one gentleman said, \"We\nthink this voice speaks out of the children.\" The foul fiend, very angry\nat this--or Master Tom frightened--cries out, \"You lie! God shall judge\nyou for your lying; and I and my father will come and fetch you to hell\nwith warlock thieves.\" So the devil discharged (forbade) the gentleman to\nspeak anything, saying, \"Let him that hath a commission speak (meaning the\nminister), for he is the servant of God.\" The minister then had a little\nreligious controversy with the devil, who answered at last, simply, \"I\nknew not these scriptures till my father taught me them.\" Nothing of all\nthis disturbing the easy faith of the audience, they, through the\nminister, whom alone he would obey, conjured him to tell them who he was;\nwhereupon he said that he was an evil spirit come from the bottomless pit\nof hell, to vex this house, and that Satan was his father. And then there\nappeared a naked hand, and an arm from the elbow downward, beating on the\nfloor till the house did shake again, and a loud and fearful crying, \"Come\nup, father! come up, father! I will send my father among ye! See! there he\nis behind your backs!\"\n\nSays the minister, \"I saw, indeed, a hand and an arm, when the stroke was\ngiven and heard.\"\n\nSays the devil, \"Saw ye that? It was not my hand, it was my father's; my\nhand is more black in the loof.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" said Gilbert Campbell, in an ecstacy, \"that I might see thee as well\nas I hear thee!\"\n\n\"Would ye see me?\" says the foul thief. \"Put out the candle, and I shall\ncome but[45] the house among you like fire-balls; I shall let ye see me\nindeed.\"\n\nAlexander Bailie of Dunraget said to the minister, \"Let us go ben,[46] and\nsee if there is any hand to be seen.\" But the demon exclaimed, \"No! let\nhim (the minister) come ben alone: he is a good honest man: his single\nword may be believed.\" He then abused Mr. Robert Hay, a very honest\ngentleman, very ill with his tongue, calling him witch and warlock: and a\nlittle while after, cried out, \"A witch! a witch! there's a witch sitting\nupon the ruist! take her away.\" He meant that there was a hen sitting on\none of the rafters. They then went to prayer again, and, when ended, the\ndevil cried out, \"If the good man's son's prayers at the College of\nGlasgow did not prevail with God, my father and I had wrought a mischief\nhere ere now.\" Ah, Master Tom, did you then know so much of prayer and the\ninclining of the counsels of God?\n\nAlexander Bailie said, \"Well, I see you acknowledge a God, and that\nprayer prevails with him, and therefore we must pray to God, and commit\nthe event to him.\" To whom the devil replied, having an evident spite\nagainst Alexander Bailie, \"Yea, sir, you speak of prayer, with your\nbroad-lipped hat\" (for the gentleman had lately gotten a hat in the\nfashion with broad lips); \"I'll bring a pair of shears from my father's\nwhich shall clip the lips of it a little.\" And Alexander Bailie presently\nheard a pair of shears go clipping round his hat, \"which he lifted, to see\nif the foul thief had meddled with it.\"\n\nThen the fiend fell to prophesying. \"Tom was to be a merchant, Bob a\nsmith, John a minister, and Hugh a lawyer,\" all of which came to pass.\nTurning to Jennet, the good man's daughter, he cried, \"Jennet Campbell,\nJennet Campbell, wilt thou cast me thy belt?\"\n\nQuoth she, \"What a widdy would thou do with my belt?\"\n\n\"I would fain,\" says he, \"fasten my loose bones together.\"\n\nA younger daughter was sitting \"busking her puppies\" (dressing her\npuppets, dolls), as young girls are used to do. He threatens to \"ding out\nher harns,\" that is, to brain her; but says she quietly, \"No, if God be to\nthe fore,\" and so falls to her work again. The good wife having brought\nout some bread, was breaking it, so that every one of the company should\nhave a piece. Cries he, \"Grissel Wyllie! Grissel Wyllie! give me a piece\nof that haver bread. I have gotten nothing this day but a bit from\nMarritt,\" that is, as they speak in the country, Margaret. The minister\nsaid to them all, \"Beware of that! for it is sacrificing to the devil!\"\nMarritt was then called, and inquired if she had given the foul fiend any\nof her haver bread. \"No,\" says she; \"but when I was eating my due piece\nthis morning, something came and clicked it out of my hands.\"\n\nThe evening had now come, and the company prepared to depart; the\nminister, and the minister's wife, Alexander Bailie of Dunraget, with his\nbroad-lipped hat, and the rest. But the devil cried out in a kind of\nagony--\n\n\"Let not the minister go! I shall burn the house if he goes.\" Weaver\nCampbell, desperately frightened, besought the minister to stay; and he,\nnot willing to see them come to mischief, at last consented. As he turned\nback into the house, the devil gave a great gaff of laughing, saying,\n\"Now, sir! you have done my bidding!\" which was unhandsome of Tom--very.\n\n\"Not thine, but in obedience to God, have I returned to bear this man\ncompany whom thou dost afflict,\" says the minister, nowise discomposed,\nand not disdaining to argue matters clearly with the devil.\n\nThen the minister \"discharged\" all from speaking to the demon, saying,\n\"that when it spoke to them they must only kneel and pray to God.\" This\ndid not suit the demon at all. He roared mightily, and cried, \"What! will\nye not speak to me? I shall strike the bairns, and do all manner of\nmischief!\" No answer was returned; and again the children were slapped and\nbeaten on their rosy parts--where children are accustomed to be whipped.\nAfter a while this ended too, and then the fiend called out to the\ngood-wife, \"Grissel, put out the candle!\"\n\n\"Shall I do it?\" says she to the minister's wife.\n\n\"No,\" says that discreet person, \"for then you shall obey the devil.\"\n\nUpon which the devil shouted, with a louder voice, \"Put out the candle!\"\nNo one obeyed, and the candle continued burning. \"Put out the candle, I\nsay!\" cries he, more terribly than before. Grissel, not caring to continue\nthe uproar, put it out. \"And now,\" says he, \"I will trouble you no more\nthis night.\" For by this time I should suppose that Master Tom was sleepy,\nand tired, and hoarse.\n\nOnce again the ministers and gentlemen met for prayer and exorcism; when\nit is to be presumed that Tom was not with them, for everything was quiet;\nbut soon after the stirs began again, and Tom and the rest were sore\nmolested. Gilbert Campbell made an appeal to the Synod of Presbyters, a\ncommittee of whom appointed a special day of humiliation in February,\n1656, for the freeing of the weaver's house from this affliction. In\nconsequence whereof, from April to August, the devil was perfectly quiet,\nand the family lived together in peace. But after this the mischief broke\nout again afresh. Perhaps Tom had come home from college, or his father\nhad renewed his talk of settling him firmly to his own trade: whatever the\ncause, the effect was certain, the devil had come back to Glenluce.\n\nOne day, as the good-wife was standing by the fire, making the porridge\nfor the children, the demon came and snatched the \"tree-plate,\" on which\nwas the oatmeal, out of her hand, and spilt all the meal. \"Let me have the\ntree-plate again,\" says Grissel Wyllie, very humbly; and it came flying\nback to her. \"It is like if she had sought the meal too she might have got\nit, such is his civility when he is intreated,\" says Sinclair. But this\nwould have been rather beyond even Master Tom's power of legerdemain.\nThings after this went very ill. The children were daily thrashed with\nheavy staves, and every one in the family underwent much personal damage;\nuntil, as a climax, on the eighteenth of September, the demon said he\nwould burn the house down, and did, in fact, set it on fire. But it was\nput out again, before much damage was done.\n\nAfter a time--probably by Tom's going away, or becoming afraid of being\nfound out--the devil was quieted and laid for ever; and Master Tom\nemployed his intellect and energies in other ways than terrifying his\nfather's family to death, and making stirs which went by the name of\ndemoniac.\n\nThis account is taken almost verbatim from an article of mine in \"All the\nYear Round;\" and if a larger space has been given to this than to many\nother stories, it is because there was more colouring, and more\ndistinctness in the drawing, than in anything else that I have read.\nThough scarcely belonging to a book on witches, there is yet a hook and\neye, if a very slender one, in the fact that the old beggar, Andrew Agnew,\nwas hanged; and we may be sure that it was not only his atheism, but also\nhis naughty tricks with Satan, and his connection with the devil of\nGlenluce, that helped to fit the hangman's rope round his neck. There are\nmany other stories of haunted houses, notably, Mr. Monpesson's at Tedworth\ncaused by the Demon Drummer, and the Woodstock Devil who harried the\nParliamentary Commissioners to within an inch of their lives, and others\nto the full as interesting; but there is no hook and eye with\nthem--nothing by which they can be hung on to the sad string of witches,\nor witchcraft murders. Baxter has two or three such stories; and the\ncurious in such matters will find a large amount of interesting matter in\nthe various works referred to at the foot of the pages; matter which could\nnot be introduced here, because of its not belonging strictly to the\nsubject in hand. I do not think that any candid or unprejudiced person\nwill fail in seeing the dark shadow of fraud and deceit flung over every\nsuch account remaining. The importance of which, to me, is the evident and\ndistinct likeness between these stories and the marvels going on now in\nmodern society.\n\n\nJONET WATSON AND THE DEVIL IN GREEN.\n\nSteadily went on these appalling judicial crimes. In February, 1658, two\nwomen and a man were in the Tolbooth at Edinburgh, imprisoned on the\ncharge of witchcraft. One of the women died in prison, the other, Jonet\nAnderson,[47] confessed that before her marriage, which had been only\nthree months ago, she had given herself up body and soul to the devil, and\nthat when she was married she had seen him standing by the pulpit. She was\nkept only so long as was necessary to prove her not pregnant, and then was\nexecuted, fully repentant. In August four women, \"ane of them a maiden,\"\nwere burnt on the Castle Hill in ghastly company; and soon after five more\nfrom Dunbar; and then again nine from Tranent, all confessing. These\nseemed to have stayed the appetite of the magistrates for a time, as we\ncome across no more until 1661, when a painful collection of lies,\nslanders, and confessions again harrow up every feeling, and outrage every\nreasoning faculty.\n\nJonet Watson was one of the first to make her confession. She said that in\nApril last, bypast or thereby, she being at the burial of Lady Dalhousie,\na rix dollar was given to Jean Bughane, to be divided among a certain\nnumber of poor folk, whereof she was one. But Jean ran away with the\nmoney, so poor Jonet got none of it: whereat being very grieved and angry,\nwhen she came to her own house she wished to be revenged on Jean, and at\nthe wish appeared the devil in the likeness of a pretty boy in green\nclothes, and asked: \"what ailed her, and what revenge would she have?\" He\nthen gave her his mark and left her under the form of a black dog, and for\nthree days after she had a gnat constantly with her, and one morning when\nshe was changing her linen it sat down upon her shoulder, where she had\none of her marks. Also about the time of last Baal-fyre night (the\nbeginning of May) she was at a meeting in Newton-dein, where was the devil\ndressed in green clothes, with a black hat on his head. And here she\ndenied Christ, and took upon herself to be his servant, he laying his hand\non her head, and receiving from her \"all that was under his hand,\" when he\ngave her the name of \"weill-dancing Jonet,\" and she and a few more danced\nlike Tam o' Shanter's hags, and probably tired the devil out.\n\nBeatrice Leslie[48] was a witch too, and Agnes, wife of William Young,\ngave her some wholesome advice and honest reproof on the matter, whereby\nBeatrice was offended, and gave her a terrible look; and that very night\nWilliam Young awakened out of his sleep all in terror and dismay, crying\nout that Beatrice, with a number of cats, was devouring him. Beatrice had\na cat which two coal-heaving damsels killed by letting some coals fall on\nit, afterwards adding to their offence by throwing away her coal-basket.\nSo Beatrice cursed them, and told them \"they should see an ill sight\nbefore eight days were past:\" as it fell out, for according to her\nthreatening they were both killed in the coal-pit, though no one else was\nhurt; and when she was brought to see and touch the corpses, the one bled\nat the nose and the other at the ear, thus proving her guilt beyond the\npossibility of denial. Also she helped Alexander Wilson's wife in\nchild-bed, by cantrips and unholy sleights; sticking a bare knife betwixt\nthe bed and the straw, sprinkling salt about the bed, and saying, \"Lord,\nlet never ane worse wight waken thee, nor hes laid thee downe,\" with other\nvillanies, unwholesome to honest folk; so Beatrice Leslie saw the sun for\nthe last time between the cord and the flames.\n\n\nTHE LANTHORNE AND THE BAHR-RECHT.[49]\n\nChristian Wilson, _alias_ the Lanthorne, which name she had gotten from\nthe devil at the time of her baptism, was too famous in her generation.\nShe lived near her brother Alexander, and there was notorious ill blood\nbetween them, perhaps because of her notorious evil proceedings. One\nevening Alexander was found dead in his own house, naked, with his face\ntorn and cut, but without a spot of blood anywhere. Yet a \"greate lumpe of\nfleisch\" had been cut out of his cheek more cleanly than any ordinary\nrazor could have cut either flesh or cheese. Christian bore herself\nstrangely. She expressed no sorrow, perhaps because she felt none, and\nabsolutely refused to see or touch the corpse according to the fashion of\nthe honest and the orthodox of the time. This refusal did her much harm in\nmen's minds, for was it not very evident that she was afraid of the\nbier-law, or bahr-recht, which, in 1661, when all this took place, was\nsuch a useful agent of the police, and helped so powerfully to the\ndiscovery of murder? The bailies and ministers heard the rumours affecting\nher, and commanded her to be brought into the house to touch the corpse,\nas the rest had done. \"She came trembling all the way to the house, but\nshe refused to come nigh the corpse, or to touch it, saying that 'she\nnever touched a dead corpse in her life.'\" The neighbours did not allow of\nher plea, and dragged her to the murdered man, that she might touch it\nsoftly. She went forward to do so. \"But before shoe did it, the Sone being\nshyning in at the howse, shoe exprest herselfe thus, humbly desyring that,\n'as the Lord made the Sone to shine and give light into that howse, that\nalso he would give light to discovering of that murder!' And with these\nwords shoe tuitching the wound of the dead man verie softlie, it being\nwhyte and cleane, without any spot of blood or the lyke, yet immediately,\nwhile her fingers was upon it, the blood rushed owt of it, to the greate\nadmiratioune of all the behoulders, who tooke it for discoverie of the\nmurder according to her own prayers.\" Another charge, no less grave than\nthat of murder, was, that William Richardson, having felled one of her\nhens with a stone, she frowned on him threateningly, and said he should\nnever throw another stone. And he never did; for immediately he fell into\nane \"franicie\" and madness, took to his bed, and died in a few days, all\nthe time of his sickness crying out against Cristiane Wilson, who, he\nsaid, was tormenting him in the likeness of a grey cat. After his death\nhis nephew teased the witch by calling her \"The Lanthorne,\" which every\none knew to be her devil-name; but Cristiane threatened him, and said that\n\"if he did not hold his peace she would make him die by the same death as\nhis uncle,\" which was proof sufficient of the truth of the grey cat and\nher guilty sorcery. This was the same Cristiane Wilson who, when she was\nbeing carried off to Nidrie, there to be confronted with another witch,\nwas suddenly lifted off the pillion by a furious blast of wind, which she\ngot the devil to raise in the hope of her rescue. But though she was blown\ninto the stream, she swam lightly as a witch should and as only a witch\ncould, and her jailers fished her out again, to secure her better for the\nfuture. As the sky was cloudless when the blast arose, and as no storm\nfollowed after, there was no possibility of doubting the Satanic origin of\nthat mighty puff of wind. Besides, did not Jennot Cock, another confessing\nwitch, say to John Stevin, when he told her that Cristiane was to be\ncarried to Nidrie to-morrow, \"Will not yow think it a sport, if the\ndeivill raise a whirrell of wind, and tak her away from among yow by the\ngette (way) to-morrow?\" This and that together made the thing certain; and\nthe fall of the poor wretch was included in the dittay as one of the\ncounts against her, proving her witchcraft.\n\nWitch-finding now increased rapidly in Scotland. No fewer than fourteen\nspecial commissions were issued for the sole purpose of trying witches for\nthe sederunt of November the 7th, 1661; and on the 23rd of January, 1662,\nfourteen more were made out. It was the popular amusement of the day, and\nno one or two men then living could have turned the tide in favour of\nthese poor persecuted creatures. Even Sir George Mackenzie, that \"noble\nwit of Scotland,\" failed to make any reasonable impression on the besotted\npublic, though his pleadings and writings got him into immense disfavour\nwith the religious part of the community, and caused him to be ranked as\nan atheist and Sadducee, and classed with the Pilates and Judases of\nhistory. Though it had been the Bull of Pope Innocent VIII. in 1484,\nwhich had first stirred up the zeal of the godly against witchcraft, and\nwritten that terrible text, \"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,\" in\nstill more terrible characters of blood and suffering, yet Calvinistic\nScotland soon outstripped even the superstitious Papacy in her frantic\npiety, and poured out a sea of innocent blood which will stain her pages\nwith an ineffaceable stain, for ever and for ever. Yet she was nearly a\nhundred years behind Rome in her zeal, for it was not till June, 1563,\nthat she made the subject matter for legislation at all, and then the\nEstates[50] enacted \"that 'nae person take upon hand to use any manner of\nwitchcrafts, sorcery, or necromancy, nor give themselves furth to have ony\nsic craft or knowledge thereof therethrough abusing the people;' also,\nthat 'nae person seek ony help, response, or consultation, at ony sic\nusers or abusers of witchcrafts ... under pain of death.' This is the\nstatute under which all the subsequent witch trials took place.\" But bad\nas it was under the Presbyterians and the Elders, it is true that under\nthe Restoration the witch persecutions in Scotland were even more\nexcessive than during the reign of the Covenanters, and that the return of\nCharles II. brought satisfaction and pleasure to the younger women only of\nhis dominions, but nothing save torture to the old, the poor, and the\ndespised. Ray says that about a hundred and twenty witches suffered in the\nyear 1661, the year after the Restoration had brought joy and gladness to\nall loyal hearts; so that it mattered little whether Puritan or Cavalier,\nPresbyterian or Episcopalian, had the upper hand. Superstition was the\ngreatest lord of all, and a slavish adherence to a few words fettered men\ndown hopelessly to ignorance and wickedness.\n\nAt this time (1661) John Kincaid and John Dick were the most notorious\nprickers; and they let no one escape whom they had the chance of hurting.\nOne John Hay, an old man of sixty, and of untarnished reputation, fell\ninto Dick's hands, accused of sorcery by \"a distracted woman,\" whose words\nwere not worth the wind that wafted them. But Dick shaved him, and pricked\nhim, and tortured him in all allowable ways, then sent him off to\nEdinburgh, two hundred miles away, to be locked up in the Tolbooth,\npending further proceedings. The case against him was too slight for even\nthose times to entertain, and he was liberated on his own petition, and a\nfew testimonials: but John Dick was not reproved, nor was his zeal thought\nextreme or passionate.\n\n\nMISCELLANEOUS.\n\nMargaret Bryson[51] quarrelled with her husband about the selling of a\ncow; she went to the house-door, \"and there did imprecate that God or the\ndevil might take her from her husband;\" which naturally ended in the\ndevil's appearing and forcing her into the covenant with him that had its\nfinal expression at the stake.\n\nMargaret Hutchison was a witch, too. She laid on Henry Balfour the pains\nof a child-bed woman, and caused such a universal swelling of his body\nthat he died thereof; and she threatened John Boost for calling her a\nwitch, and threw a piece of raw flesh against his house, which the very\ndogs and cats would not eat; and she sent a plague of cats to John Bell's\nhouse, and tormented him and his wife by appearing at their hearth-side at\nnight, combing her hair: so Margaret Hutchison was no better than she\nshould be, and the world was well rid of her.\n\nIsabel Ramsey for her part was convicted of taking sixpence from the\ndevil, and entering into a long chat with him upon sundry local matters;\nand, indeed, she herself confessed that he gave her a dollar, which turned\ninto a sklaitt stane: for nothing that the devil did for these witches\never turned to good, so that one is more surprised at their stupidity than\noffended by their guilt.\n\nJennet Cock[52] had an ill name, past all forbearance or overlooking. She\nwas never easy unless she was after some evil, and the world must\npositively be quit of her. She bewitched William Scott's bonny bay horse,\nworth pounds and pounds of money, and made him mad; and she told a brute\nwho beat her that he should live to be hanged, which not very unlikely\nprediction was fulfilled; and she kept company with the devil on terms\nthat no honest woman should endure; and she and Jean Dickson, another\nwitch, cured a neighbour's child by cutting off a dog's head, with which\nthey played some devilish cantrip that healed the bairn; and she it was\nwho made that speech concerning Christiane Wilson and the gaff of wind; so\nJennet Cock was adjudged dangerous to be at large, and was put into\nprison, there to await her trial. And she was tried, but, strange to say,\nacquitted of the charges brought against her; she was not let loose\nthough, but kept still in durance till a fresh case could be completed\nagainst her. Jennet Cock was rather notorious for her evil eye and power\nof overlooking, and in her dittay is thus charged:--\"There being an\noutcast betwixt yow and Jeane Forrest, because schoe had called yow a\nwitch, yow came to the said Jeane, her landlord's house, where she was\nwith some nyghboures, desyreing to make aggriement betwixt yow. Ye\nmalitiouslie and bitterlie girneing and gnashing your teeth, and beating\nyour hands upon your knies, said, 'O them that called me a witch! O them\nthat called me a witch!' And at that tyme, the said Jeane Forrest, her\nchylde being in good health, on the morne the chylde, by your sorceries\nand witchcraft dyed; and the mother, at the chylde's departour, called out\nwith a loud voyce upone her nighbours, saying, 'Alace! that ever I had\nadoe with that witch Janet Cock, for shoe has been at my bed syd all this\nnight standing, and I could not get red of her: and behold the fruit of\nit--my chylde is dead!'\" This deposition was made September 10, 1661, and\nsurely Jennet Cock never escaped the consequences of such a cantrip as\nthis!\n\nMarion Grinlaw[53] and Jean Howison, \"the survivors of ten women and a man\nwho had been imprisoned at Musselburgh,\" petitioned the Council for their\nrelease. \"Some of the rest died of cold and hunger. They themselves had\nlain in durance _forty weeks_, and were now in a state of extreme misery,\n_although nothing could be brought against them_. Margaret Carvie and\nBarbara Horniman, of Falkland, had in like manner been imprisoned at the\ninstance of the magistrates and parish minister, had lain six weeks in\njail, subjected to a great deal of torture by one who takes upon him the\ntrial of witches by pricking; and so great was their sufferings that life\nwas become a burden to them, notwithstanding that they declared their\ninnocence, and nothing to the contrary had been shown. The Council ordered\nall these women to be liberated:\" which was a marvellous outstep of\nhumanity, and one for which its previous acts could hardly have prepared\nus. The next year it seems to have had a small side-blow of rationality.\nIt had become sensible of the vile inhumanity of John Kincaid, and threw\nthe wretch into prison, then issued a proclamation repudiating the seizure\nof suspected persons, which had been made illegally, unauthorizedly, and\nout of only envy and covetousness. Nevertheless, it took care to issue\ntwelve fresh commissions for trying witches, immediately after; being\nchiefly anxious to keep all the business in its own hands, and shut the\ndoor against any outside free lances. John Kincaid lay for nine weeks in\njail, then was liberated only on condition that he would prick no more\nwithout warrant. He sent up a whining petition, setting forth that he was\nan old man, and if confined longer might be brought to mortal sickness; so\nto avert this terrible catastrophe, the old sinner had his liberty given\nto him again: he ought to have had instead the doom of the murderer for\nblood-money!\n\n\nCLOWTS AND THE SERPENT.[54]\n\nIn the parish of Innerkip, on March 4, 1662, Marie Lamont, a \"young Woman\nof the adge of Eighteen Yeares,\" offered herself for voluntary confession.\nShe said that five years ago Kattrein Scot taught her to take kyes' milk.\nShe told her to go out in misty mornings with a hair rope (harrie\ntedder), which she was to draw over the mouth of a mug, saying, \"In God's\nname, God send us milk, God sent it, and mickle of it.\" By which means she\nand Kattrein got much of their neighbours' milk which they made into\nbutter and cheese. Also she said, that two years and a half since, the\ndevil came to them at Kattrein Scot's house, where many of them were\npresent, and gave them all wine to drink and wheat bread to eat, and they\ndanced and were very merry, the devil shaking hands with them, and she\ndelivering herself over to him in baptism. And at her baptism she was\ngiven the name of \"Clowts,\" and bid to call the devil \"Serpent.\" Further,\n\"Shee confessed that at that sam tym the devil nipit her upon the right\nsyd, qlk was very painful for a tym, but yairefter he straikit it with his\nhand, and healed it; this she confesses to be his mark.\" At a certain\nmeeting which she spoke of, when she and the rest went to raise storms to\nhinder the Killing fishery, the devil came to them in the likeness of a\nbrown dog, but she and Kattrein were as cats, and in this form they ran\ninto Allan Orr's house and took a bite of a herring lying in a barrel.\nThey then put it back again, and Allan Orr's wife, afterwards finishing\nthe herring, took heavy disease, and died. The reason of this malicious\nact was, that Allan Orr had put Margaret Holm (one of the cats) out of her\nhouse, and this was the manner in which she chose to be\nrevenged--\"threitening in wrath, that he and his wife sould not be long\ntogether.\" Many other things did she confess: one of which was how the\ndevil once \"convoyed her home in the dawing; and when shee was com near\nthe house wherein she was a servant, her master saw a waff of him as he\nwent away from her.\" Another time she and some other witches met at the\nback gate of Ardgowand, where his Cloutieship appeared in the likeness of\na black man with cloven feet, directing them to take white sand and cast\nit about the gates of Ardgowand, and about the minister's house; and while\nthey were about the business he turned them into the likeness of cats, by\nshaking his hands above them. And at another time they went to cast the\nlongston into the sea, to cause storms and shipwrecks, and the devil\nkissed them as they went away, apparently better pleased than ordinarily\nwith his Clowts and Kats. All these things did poor Marie Lamont, aged\neighteen, confess to the minister and Laird of Innerkip; and they, not\nknowing the virtue of purgatives and port wine, nor understanding the\nvalue of rest and silence, took the poor young soul at her word, and found\nher guilty of all the crimes and follies with which a diseased body, and a\nmind overset and charged, had prompted her to accuse herself.\n\nAnd now we come to\n\n\nTHE WITCHES OF AULDEARNE:[55]\n\nand Isobell Gowdie's marvellous confessions: still in A.D. 1662. Isobell\nwas neither pricked nor tortured before she entered on her singular\nhistory of circumstantial lies. She was probably a mere lunatic, whose\nravings ran in the popular groove, and who was not so much deceiving, as\nself-deceived by insanity. The assize which tried her was composed of\nhighly respectable people, and she seems to have been only encouraged to\nrave, not forced to lie. She began by stating that one day, fifteen years\nago, as she was going between \"the towns\" or farmsteads of Drumdewin and\nthe Heads, she met the devil, who spoke to her and invited her to meet him\nthat night at the parish church of Auldearne. She promised that she would,\nand accordingly she went, and he baptized her by the name of \"Janet,\" and\naccepted her service. Margaret Brodie held her while she denied her\nChristian baptism; and then the devil marked her on the shoulder, sucking\nout the blood which he \"spouted\" into his hand, then sprinkled it on her\nhead, saying, \"I baptize thee, Janet, in my own name!\" But first he had\nput one hand on the crown of her head, and the other on the soles of her\nfeet, while she made over to him all that lay betwixt, giving herself body\nand soul into his keeping. He was in the Reader's desk while all this took\nplace, appearing as a \"mickle, black, hairy man\" reading out of a black\nbook; so Isobell was henceforth Janet in the witch world, and was one of\nthe most devoted of her covin; for they were divided into covins or bands,\nshe said, and placed under the leadership of proper officers. John Young\nwas the officer of her covin, and the number composing it was thirteen.\nShe and others of her band took Breadley's corn from off his land. They\ntook an unchristened child which they had raised out of its grave, parings\nof their nails, ears of all sorts of grain, and cole-wort leaves, all\nchopped very fine and small, and mixed up well together; and this charm\nthey buried on his land, whereby they got all the strength of his corn and\ngoods to themselves, and parted them among the covin. Another time they\nyoked a plough of paddocks (toads). The devil held it, and John Young\ndrove it: it was drawn by toads instead of oxen, the traces were of\nquickens (dog-grass), the coulter was a riglen's horn (ram's horn), so was\nthe sock; and they went two several times about the field, all the covin\nfollowing and praying to the devil to give them the fruit of that land,\nand that only thistles and briars might grow on it for the master's use.\nSo Breadley had trouble enough to work his land, and when it was worked he\ngot no good out of it, but only weeds and thorns, while the covin made\ntheir bread of his labour.\n\nWhen asked how she and her sister witches managed to leave their husbands\no' nights, she said that, when it was their Sabbath nights, they used to\nput besoms or three-legged stools in bed beside their husbands; so that if\nthese deluded men should wake before their return, they might believe they\nhad their wives safe as usual. The besoms and three-legged stools took the\nright form of the women, and prevented a too early discovery. To go to\nthese Sabbaths they put a straw between their feet, crying \"Horse and\nHattock in the Devil's name!\" and then they would fly away, just as straws\nin the wind. Any kind of straw would do, and they who saw them floating\nabout in the whirlwind, and did not sanctify themselves, could be shot\ndead at the witches' pleasure, and their bodies remained with them as\nhorses, and small as straws.\n\nThese night meetings always ended with a supper; the Maiden of the Covin\nbeing placed next to the devil, as he was partial to young, plump,\nblooming witches, and did not care much for the \"rigwoodie hags,\" save to\nbeat and belabour them. And after they had gotten their meat they would\nsay as a grace--\n\n  \"We eat this meat in the devil's name,\n  With sorrow and _sich_ (sighs) and mickle shame;\n  We shall destroy both house and hald;\n  Both sheep and nolt intil the fauld,\n  Little good shall come to the fore,\n  Of all the rest of the little store.\"\n\n\nAnd when supper was done, each witch would look steadily upon their\n\"grisly\" president and say, bowing low, \"We thank thee, our Lord, for\nthis!\" But it was not much to thank him for in general; for the old adage\nseems to have been pretty nearly kept to, and the cooks, at least, not to\nspeak of the meat, to be of the very lowest description. The poor witches\nnever got more from the devil than what they might have had at home; which\nwas one more added to the many proofs that the mind cannot travel beyond\nits own sphere of knowledge, and that even hallucinations are bounded by\nexperience, and clairvoyance by the past actual vision.\n\nThen Isobell went to the Downie Hills, to see the gude wichtis who had\nwrought Bessie Dunlop and Alesoun Peirsoun such sad mishap. The hill side\nopened and she went in. Here she got meat more than she could eat, which\nwas a rare thing for her to do in those days, and seemed to her one of the\nmost noticeable things of the visit. The Queen of Faerie was bravely\nclothed in white linen, and white and brown clothes, but she was nothing\nlike the glorious creature who bewitched Thomas of Ercildoun with her\nwinsom looks and golden hair; and the king was a braw man, well favoured\nand broad faced; just an ordinary man and woman of the better classes,\nbuxom, brave, and comely, as Isobell Gowdie and her like would naturally\ntake to be the ultimate perfection of humanity. But it was not all\nsunshine and delight even in the hill of Faerie, for there were \"elf\nbullis rowting and skoylling\" up and down, which frightened poor Isobell,\nas well as her auditory: for here she was interrupted and bidden on\nanother track. She then went on to say that when they took away any cow's\nmilk they did so by twining and platting a rope the wrong way and in the\ndevil's name, drawing the tether in between the cow's hinder feet, and out\nbetween her fore feet. The only way to get back the milk was to cut the\nrope. When they took away the strength of any one's ale in favour of\nthemselves or others, they used to take a little quantity out of each\nbarrel, in the devil's name (they never forgot this formula), and then put\nit into the ale they wished to strengthen; and no one had power to keep\ntheir ale from them, save those who had well sanctified the brewing. Also\nshe and others made a clay picture of a little child, which was to\nrepresent all the male children of the Laird of Parkis. John Taylor\nbrought home the clay in his \"plaid newk\" (corner), his wife brake it very\nsmall like meal, and sifted it, and poured water in among it in the\ndevil's name, and worked it about like rye porridge (\"vrought it werie\nsore, lyk rye-bowt\") and made it into a picture of the Laird of Parkis'\nson. \"It haid all the pairtis and merkis of a child, such as heid, eyes,\nnose, handis, foot, mowth, and little lippes. It wanted no mark of a\nchild; and the handis of it folded down by its sydes.\" This precious\nimage, which was like a lump of dough or a skinned sucking pig, was put to\nthe fire till it shrivelled and became red as a coal; they put it to the\nfire every other day, and by the wicked power enclosed in this charm all\nthe male children of the Laird of Parkis would suffer, unless it were\nbroken up. She and the rest went in and out their neighbours' houses,\nsometimes as jackdaws, sometimes as hares, cats, &c., and ate and drank of\nthe best; and they took away the virtue of all things left \"unsained;\" and\neach had their own powers. \"Bot,\" said Isobell, sorrowfully, \"now I haw no\npower at all.\" In another confession she told all about her Covin. There\nwere thirteen in each, and every person had a nickname, and a spirit to\nwait on her. She could not remember the names of all, but she gave what\nshe could. Swein clothed in grass green waited on Margaret Wilson, called\nPickle-nearest-the-wind: Rorie in yellow waited on Bessie Wilson, or\nThrow-the-corn-yard: the Roaring Lion in seagreen waited on Isobell\nNichol, or Bessie Rule: Mak Hector, a young-like devil, clothed in grass\ngreen, was appropriated by Jean Martin, daughter to Margaret Wilson\n(Pickle-nearest-the-wind), the Maiden of the Covin and called\nOver-the-Dyke-with-it; this name given to her because the devil always\ntakes the maiden in his hand next him, and when he would leap they both\ncry out, \"Over the dyke with it!\" Robert the Rule in sad dun, a commander\nof the spirits, waited on Margaret Brodie, Thief-of-hell-wait-upon-herself:\nhe waited also on Bessie Wilson, otherwise Throw-the-corn-yard: Isobell's\nown spirit was the Red Riever, and he was ever clothed in black: the\neighth spirit was Robert the Jakes, aged, and clothed in dun, \"ane glaiked\ngowked spirit,\" and he waited on Bessie Hay, otherwise Able-and-Stout: the\nninth was Laing, serving Elspet Nishie, re-named Bessie Bauld; the tenth\nwas Thomas, a faerie:--but there Isobell's questioners stopped her, afraid\nto hear aught of the \"guide wychtis,\" who might be then among them,\ninjuring those who offended them to death. So no more information was\ngiven of the spirits of the Covin. She then told them that to raise a wind\nthey took a rag of cloth which they wetted, then knocked on a stone with a\nbeetle (a flat piece of wood) saying thrice--\n\n  \"I knok this ragg wpon this stane,\n  To raise the wind in the Divelle's name;\n  It sall not lye, vntil I please againe!\"\n\n\nWhen the wind was to be laid, they dried the rag, and said thrice--\n\n  \"We lay the wind in the divellis name,\n  It sall not rise quhill we lyk to raise it again!\"\n\n\nAnd if the wind would not cease the instant after they said this, they\ncalled to their spirit: \"Thieffe! thieffe! conjure the wind and caws it to\nlye!\" As for elf-arrow heads, the devil shapes them with his own hand, and\nthen delivers them to elf boys who sharpen and trim them with a thing like\na packing-needle: and when Isobell was in elf-land she saw the boys\nsharpening and trimming them. Those who trimmed them, she said, are little\nones, hollow and hump-backed, and speak gruffly like. When the devil gave\nthe arrows to the witches he used to say--\n\n  \"Shoot these in my name,\n  And they sall not goe heall hame.\"\n\n\nAnd when the witches shoot them, which they do by \"spanging\" them from\ntheir thumb nails, they say--\n\n  \"I shoot yon man in the devillis name,\n  He sall nott win heall hame!\n  And this salbe alswa trw,\n  Thair sall not be an bitt of him on liew.\"[56]\n\n\nIsobell had great talent for rhymes. She told the court how, when the\nwitches wanted to transform themselves into the shape of hare or cat, they\nsaid thrice over--always thrice--\n\n  \"I sall goe intill ane haire,\n  With sorrow, and sych, and mickle caire;\n  And I sall goe in the divellis name,\n  Ay whill I com hom againe.\"\n\n\nOnce Isobell said this rhyme, when Patrik Papley's servants were going to\nlabour. They had their dogs with them, and the dogs hunted her--she in the\nform of a hare. Very hard pressed, and weary, she had just time to run to\nher own house, get behind the chest, and repeat--\n\n  \"Hair, hair, God send the caire,\n  I am in a hairis likeness now,\n  But I sall be a woman ewin now;\n  Hair, hair, God send the caire!\"\n\nElse the dogs would have worried her, and posterity have lost her\nconfessions. Many other doggrels did Isobell teach her judges; but they\nwere all of the same character as those already given: scanty rhymes in\nthe devil's name, when they were not actual paraphrases of the mass book.\nSome were for healing and some for striking; some in the name of God and\nall the saints, others in the devil's name, boldly and nakedly used; but\nboth equally damnable in the eyes of the judges, and equally worthy of\ndeath. The elf-arrows spoken of before were of great use. The devil gave\nthem to his covin and they shot men and women dead, right and left.\nSometimes they missed, as when Isobell shot at the Laird of Park as he was\ncrossing the burn, and missed, for which Bessie Hay gave her a great cuff:\nalso Margaret Brodie, when she shot at Mr. Harie Forbes, the minister at\nAuldearne, he being by the standing stanes; whereupon she asked if she\nshould shoot again, but the devil answered, \"Not! for we wold nocht get\nhis lyf at that tym.\" Finding the elf-arrows useless against Mr. Harie\nForbes, they tried charms and incantations once when he was sick. They\nmade a bag, into which they put the flesh, entrails, and gall of a toad, a\nhare's liver, barley grains, nail pairings, and bits of rag, steeping all\nin water, while Satan stood over them, saying--and they repeating after\nhim--\n\n  \"He is lying in his bed, and he is seik and sair,\n  Let him lye in till that bedd monthes two and dayes thrie mair!\n  He sall lye in till his bed, he salbe seik and sair,\n  He sall lye in till his bedd, monthes two and dayes thrie mair!\"\n\n\nWhen they said these words they were all on their knees with their\nhair about their shoulders and eyes, holding up their hands to\nthe devil, beseeching him to destroy Mr. Harry; and then it was\ndecided to go into his chamber and swing the bag over him. Bessie\nHay--Able-and-Stout--undertook this office, and she went to his room,\nbeing intimate with him, the bag in her hands and her mind set on slaying\nhim by its means; but there were some worthy persons with him at the time,\nso Bessie did no harm, only swung a few drops on him which did not kill\nhim. They had a hard taskmaster in the devil--Black Johnnie, as they used\nto call him among themselves. But he used to overhear them, and would\nsuddenly appear in the midst of them, saying, \"I ken weill anewgh what ye\nwer saying of me,\" and then would beat and buffet them sore. He was always\nbeating them, specially if they were absent from any of the meetings, or\nif they forgot anything he had told them to do. Alexander Elder was being\ncontinually thrashed. He was very soft and could never defend himself in\nthe least, but would cry and scream when the devil scourged him. The women\nhad more pluck. Margaret Wilson--Pickle-nearest-the-wind--would defend\nherself finely, throwing up her hands to keep the strokes from her; and\nBessie Wilson--Throw-the-corn-yard--\"would speak crusty with her tongue\nand would be belling against him soundly.\" He used to beat them all up and\ndown with scourges and sharp cords, they like naked ghosts crying, \"Pity!\npity! mercy! mercy, our Lord!\" But he would have neither pity nor mercy,\nbut would grin at them like a dog, and as if he would swallow them up. He\nwould give them most beautiful money, at least to look at; but in\nfour-and-twenty hours it would be all gone, or changed to mere dirt and\nrubbish. The devil wore sometimes boots and sometimes shoes, but ever his\nfeet were cloven, and ever his colour black. This, with some small\nvariations, was the sum of what Isobell Gowdie confessed in her four\ndepositions taken between the 13th of April and 27th of May in the year of\ngrace 1662.\n\nJanet Braidhead, spous to John Taylor, followed next. Her first\nconfession, made on the 14th of April, set forth how that she had known\nnothing of witchcraft until her husband and his mother, Elspeth Nishie,\nhad taught her; her first lesson from them being the making of some\n\"drugs\" which were to charm away the fruit and corn, and kill the cattle,\nof one John Hay in the Mure. After that, she was taken to the kirk at\nAuldearne, where her husband presented her for the devil's baptism and\nmarking, which were done in the usual manner. She also gave evidence of\nthe clay picture which was to destroy all the male children of the Laird\nof Park; and she gave a long list of the frequenters of the Sabbaths,\nincluding some of the most respectable inhabitants of the place; and in\nmany other things she confirmed Isobell Gowdie's depositions, specially in\nall regarding the devil and the unequivocal nature of their connection\nwith him, which was put into plain and unmistakable language enough.\n\nWe are not told the ultimate fate of Isobell Gowdie and Janet Braidhead,\nbut they had confessed enough to burn half Scotland, and it is not likely\nthat they escaped the doom assigned to their order.\n\n\nTHE SECRET SINS OF MAJOR WEIR.[57]\n\nOn the 4th of April, 1670, one Major Thomas Weir, an old man of seventy,\nexpiated his crimes on the Gallowlie of Edinburgh. A bad man, surely; a\ncanting, loose-lived hypocrite, who made his puritanism the cloak for his\nsecret crimes, serving sin with his body in daily and most detestable\nservice, while his lips spoke only of zeal to God and the soul's devoutest\nexercise. Still, it was a terrible fate for nothing more heinous than an\nunclean life; a purification by fire in truth, but not for the\nsanctification of souls. Perhaps he would have got off altogether, had he\nnot been charged with witchcraft. Incest and the foulest vices were bad\nenough, but witchcraft was worse. Yet no intelligible charge of sorcery\nwas brought against this man save the fact that he got the love of all\nmanner of women, poor and old though he was; and the testimony of a\nfrightened woman who gave a rambling account of shapes, and lights, and\nwomen, all gathered down in Stinking-close, near to where the major lived;\nall of which were, of course, phantoms, spectres, or devils, conjured up\nby his magical and devilish arts. This, and the frantic saying of his poor\nold sister, when she heard of his death, that if they had burnt his staff\nthey had destroyed his power, formed about the sum of the witchcraft\nevidence against him. He was arrested on his own confession. Unable to\nbear the weight of his secret vices, he gave himself up to the\nauthorities, who at first were disposed to think him mad, but who\nafterwards, reporting him sane and collected enough, set him on his trial.\nAfter he had once spoken he would say no more, would make no defence and\nno further confession: he would not pray, he would not appeal to God. Like\na beast he had lived, like a beast he would die, and \"since he was going\nto the devil,\" he said, \"he did not wish to anger him.\" He would have no\npaltering with an outraged God by the way; so the fire and the faggot came\nas the culmination of a life which in its mildest phase was infamous, but\nwhich belonged to no lawful tribunal of man to punish.\n\nIf he died sullenly and in mute and dumb despair, his sister's anguish\nfound wild and desperate expression. She told her judges all about her\nhorrible life with him, and how he had been long given up to sorcery and\nmagic, as well as to things not now to be mentioned; and how his power lay\nin that staff of his which had been burnt along with him. That thornwood\nstaff, with its crooked head and carved figures like satyrs running\nthrough, seems to have heavily burdened the poor creature's mind, for she\ntold her judges that when she wished to plague her brother she would hide\nit, and give it back to him only when he threatened to reveal her nameless\ninfamy if she did not restore it. On the morning of her execution she said\nthat she would expiate the most shameful life that had ever been lived by\ndying the most shameful death; but no one knew exactly what she meant.\nWhen she came to the place of execution--she was mercifully hung--she\nbegan to talk wildly of the Broken Covenant, and exhort the people back to\ntheir old faith, and then she attempted to throw off all her clothes that\nshe might die \"naked and ashamed.\" This was the lowest depth of\ndegradation of which her crazed old brain could conceive, and was what she\nmeant in the morning when alluding to the manner of her death. The\nexecutioner had to struggle mightily with her before he was able to\novermaster her, she smiting him on the cheek the while; but at last he\nflung her \"open-faced\" on the ground, and threw some linen cloths over\nher; but \"her hands not being tyed when she was throwen over, she laboured\nto recover hirselfe, and put in her head betwixt two of the steps of the\nleather, and keiped that powster for a tyme, till she was put from itt.\"\nIt is curious to mark the little bit of sanity in all this mournful\nlunacy, when the familiar things of life were spoken of. She had always\nbeen a great spinner, and the fame now went abroad that the devil had\nhelped her in this. Asked if it was not so, she at the first denied\ndisdainfully; use only and industry, she said, had made her so deft at her\nwork, and the devil had done nothing for her; but afterwards she maundered\noff into some nonsense about her yarn, and how her distaff was often found\nfull when she had left it empty; and how the weaver could never weave the\nthread spun from this yarn, which, of course, was \"devil's dust\" of the\ntrue kind. She was mad enough, the wretched being, and could not fail to\ntrip if stones were laid in her path. But her first instincts respecting\nher every-day occupation were right, and are singularly illustrative of\nsome of the phenomena of madness, and of how intimately with one's life is\ninterwoven common sense, even in the fibres of a diseased brain. She said\nfurther that she was persuaded \"her mother was a witch, for the secretest\nthing that either I myself or any of the family could do, when once a mark\nappeared upon her brow, she could tell it them, though done at a great\ndistance! Being demanded what sort of a mark it was, she answered, 'I have\nsome such like mark myself when I please, on my forehead.' Whereupon she\noffered to uncover her head for visible satisfaction; the minister\nrefusing to behold it, and forbidding any discovery, was earnestly\nrequested by some spectators to allow the freedom: he yielded. She put\nback her head-dress, and, seeming to frown, there was an exact horse-shoe,\nshaped for nails, in her wrinkles--terrible enough, I assure you, to the\nstoutest beholder.\" Her further confessions were curious, involving, as\nthey did, a visit from a tall woman who had one child at her back and one\nor two at her feet; and who came to her, wanting her to speak to the Queen\nof Fairy, and to strike and do battle with the said queen on her behalf.\nThe next day came \"ane little woman,\" with a piece of a tree, or the root\nof some herb, and she told her that so long as she kept the same she\nshould do well, and should attain all she might desire. So she spun at her\nyarn, and found more yarn on the \"pirn\" than she thought to find; which\nfrightened her. This took place when she \"keeped a school at Dalkeith, and\nteached childering.\" She also rambled on about a fiery chariot in which\nshe and her brother had paid visits, and of his mysterious visitors and\nhis thornwood staff; and when nothing more was to be got out of her she\nwas hung, and the world was all the cleaner for the loss of so much folly\nand wickedness from out the general mass.\n\n\nTHE DUMB GIRL OF POLLOK.[58]\n\nOn the 14th of October, Sir George Maxwell, of Pollok, and his household\nwere much agitated and disturbed. He had been taken suddenly and\ndangerously ill, with pains which read like the pains of pleurisy; and\nthough he got partially well, had still some awkward symptoms remaining. A\nyoung deaf and dumb girl, of unknown origin, signified that \"there is a\nwoman whose son has broke his fruit yeard that did prick him in the side.\"\nThis was found to mean that Jennet Mathie, relict of John Stewart,\nunder-miller in Schaw Mill, had formed a wax picture with pins in its\nside, which \"Dumby\" said was to be found in her house in a hole behind the\nfire, and which she further offered to bring to them at Pollok, provided\ncertain two of the men servants might accompany her to protect her. The\nyoung daughters of Sir George did not believe the story, but the two\nservants, Laurence Pollok and Andrew Martine, professed themselves\nconverts, and insisted on seeing the thing to an end. So they went to\nJennet's house, and into the kitchen, all standing on the floor near the\nfire; \"when little Dumby comes quickly by, slips her hand into a hole\nbehind the fire, and puts into Andrew Martine's hand, beneath his cloak, a\nwax picture with two pins in it,\" that in the right side very long, and\nthat in the left shorter: which corresponded with the severity of the\nlaird's pains. The picture was brought to Sir George; so was Jennet\nMathie, who was apprehended on the spot and whom Sir George then sent to\nprison. When questioned, she denied all knowledge of the picture or the\npins, and said it was the work of the dumb girl; but on its being shown\nthat her son Hugh had once robbed Sir George's orchard--which was what\nDumby meant by \"broke his fruit yeard\"--and that Sir George, when told\nthat he was no longer in Pollokland, but had gone to Darnlie, had said, \"I\nhope my fingers may be long enough to reach him in Darnlie\"--these\ncircumstances were held quite sufficient evidence that the Stewart family\nwould do the laird all the mischief they could. The prosecution wanted no\nstronger proof, and the affair went on.\n\nJennet was obstinate, and would confess nothing; upon which they searched\nher and found the devil's mark. After this, Sir George got better for a\nshort space, but soon the pains returned, and then the dumb girl said that\nJohn Stewart, Jennet's eldest son, had made another clay image, four days\nsince, and that it was now in his house beneath the bolster among the bed\nstraw. So she and the servants went there again, and sure enough they\nfound it; but as it was only lately made, it was soft and broke in their\nhands. John said simply he did not know who had put it there; but he and\nhis young sister Annabel were apprehended: and the next day Annabel\nconfessed.\n\nShe said, that on the 4th of January last past, while the clay picture was\nbeing formed, a black gentleman had come into her mother's house,\naccompanied by Bessie Weir, Marjorie Craig, Margaret Jackson, and her own\nbrother John. When confronted with John she wavered, but John was no\nnearer release for that. He was searched, and many marks were found on\nhim; and when found the spell of silence was broken, and he confessed his\npaction with the devil as openly as his sister, giving up as their\naccomplices the same women as those she had named. Of these, Margaret\nJackson, aged fourscore or so, was the only one to confess; but as she\nhad many witch marks she could not hope for mercy, so might as well make a\nclean breast of it at once. On the 17th of January a portion of clay was\nfound under Jennet Mathie's bolster, in her prison at Paisley. This time\nit was a woman's portrait, for Sir George had recovered by now, and the\nwitches were against the whole family equally. On the 27th Annabel made a\nfuller deposition. She said that last harvest the devil, as a black man,\nhad come to her mother's house, and required her, the deponent, to give\nherself to him; promising that she should want for nothing good if she\ndid. She, being enticed by her mother and Bessie Weir, did as was\ndesired--putting one hand on the crown of her head, and another on the\nsoles of her feet, and giving over to him all that lay between; whereupon\nher mother promised her a new coat, and the devil made her officer at\ntheir several meetings. He gave her, too, such a nip on the arm that she\nwas sore for half an hour after, and gave her a new name--Annippy, or an\nApe according to Law. Her mother's devil-name was Lands-lady; Bessie Weir\nwas called Sopha; Marjorie Craig was Rigeru; Margaret Jackson Locas; John\nStewart, Jonas; and they were all present at the making of the clay image\nwhich was to doom Sir George to death. They made it of clay, then bound it\non a spit and turned it before the fire, \"Sopha\" crying \"Sir George\nMaxwell! Sir George Maxwell!\" which was repeated by them all. Another\ntime, she said, there was a meeting, when the devil was dressed in \"black\ncloathes and a blew band, and white hand cuffs, with hoggers on his feet,\nand that his feet were cloven.\" The black man stuck the pins into the\npicture, and his name was Ejoall, or J. Jewell. For the devil delighted in\ngiving himself various names, as when he caused himself to be called\nPeter Drysdale, by Catherine Sands and Laurie Moir, and Peter Saleway by\nothers.\n\nJohn now followed suit. He confessed to his own baptism; to the hoggers on\nthe black man's legs, who had no shoes, and spoke in a voice hollow and\nghousty; to the making the clay image; and to his new name of Jonas. On\nthe 15th of February, 1677, John Stewart, Annabel Stewart, and Margaret\nJackson all adhered to these depositions, but Jennet and Bessie and\nMargerie denied them. Jennet's feet were fixed in stocks, so that she\nmight not do violence to her own life: and one day her gaoler declared\nthat he had found her bolster, which the night before was laid at least\nsix yards from the stocks, now placed beneath her; the stocks being so\nheavy that two of the strongest men in the country could hardly have\ncarried them six yards. He asked her \"how she had win to the bolster,\" and\nshe answered that she had crept along the floor of the room, dragging the\nstocks with her. Before the court she said that she had got one foot out\nof the hole, and had drawn the stocks with her, \"a thing altogether\nimpossible.\" Then John and Annabel exhorted their mother to confess,\nreminding her of all the meetings which she had had with the devil in her\nown house, and that \"a summer's day would not be sufficient to relate what\npassages had been between the devil and her.\" But Jennet Mathie was a\nstern, brave, high-hearted Scotch woman, and would not seal her sorrow\nwith a lie. \"Nothing could prevail with her obdured and hardened heart,\"\nso she and all, save young Annabel, were burnt; and when she was bound to\nthe stake, the spectators saw after a while a black, pitchy ball foam out\nof her mouth, which, after the fire was kindled, grew to the size of a\nwalnut, and flew out into sparks like squibs. This was the devil leaving\nher. As for Bessie Weir, or Sopha, the devil left her when she was\nexecuted, in the form of a raven; for so he owned and dishonoured his\nchosen ones.\n\n\"The dumbe girl, Jennet Douglas, now speaks well, and knows Latine, which\nshe never learned, and discovers things past!\" says Sinclair. But she\nstill followed her old trade. She had mesmeric visions, and was evidently\na \"sensitive;\" and some of the people believed in her, as inspired and\ndivine, and some came, perhaps mockingly, to test her. But they generally\ngot the worst off, and were glad to leave her alone again. One woman came\nand asked her \"'how she came to the knowledge of so many things,' but the\nyoung wench shifted her, by asking the woman's name. She told her name.\nSays the other, 'Are there any other in Glasgow of that name?' 'No!' sayes\nthe woman. 'Then,' said the girle, 'you are a witch!' Says the other,\n'Then are you a devil!' The girl answers 'The devil doth not reveal\nwitches; but I know you to be one, and I know your practices too.' On\nwhich the poor woman ran away in great confusion;\" as, indeed, she\nmight--such an accusation as this being quite sufficient to sign her\ndeath-warrant. To another woman who came to see and question her, she said\nthe same thing; taking her arm, and showing the landlord a secret mark\nwhich she told him the woman had got from the devil. \"The poor woman much\nashamed ran home, and a little while after she came out and told her\nneighbours that what Jennet Douglas had said of her was true, and\nearnestly entreated that they might show so much to the magistrates, that\nshe might be apprehended, otherwise the devil says she will make me kill\nmyself.\" The neighbours were wise enough to think her mad, as she was, and\ntook her home; but the next day she was found drowned in the Clyde; fear\nand despair had killed her before the stake-wood had had time to root and\nripen. The dumb girl herself was afterwards carried before the great\ncouncil at Edinburgh, imprisoned, scourged through the town, and then\nbanished to \"some forraigne Plantation,\" whence she reappears no more to\nvex her generation. God forgive her! She has passed long years ago to her\naccount, and may her guilty soul be saved, and all its burning\nblood-stains cleansed and assoilzed!\n\n\nLIZZIE MUDIE AND HER VICTIMS.[59]\n\nThe year after Sir George Maxwell's affair there was another case at\nHaddington which gave full employment to the authorities. Margaret\nKirkwood, a woman of some means, hanged herself one Sunday morning during\nchurch time. Her servant, Lizzie Mudie, who was at kirk like a good\nChristian, suddenly called out, to the great disturbance of the\ncongregation. She began repeating all the numbers--one, two, three, four,\n&c.--till she came to fifty-nine; then she stopped and cried, \"The turn is\ndone!\" When it was afterwards found that Margaret Kirkwood had hung\nherself just about that moment, and that her age was fifty-nine, Lizzie\nMudie was taken up and searched. She was found a witch by her marks, and\nsoon after confessed, delating five women and one man as her accomplices.\nBut the five women and the one man were obstinate, and would not say that\nthey were guilty, though they were pricked and searched and marks found on\nthem. Lord Fountainhall was present at the searching of the man, and he\ngives an account of it: \"I did see the man's body searched and pricked in\ntwo sundry places, one at the ribs and the other at his shoulder. He\nseemed to find no pain, but no blood followed. The marks were blewish,\nvery small, and had no protuberancy above the skin. The pricker said there\nwere three sorts of witches' marks: the horn mark, it was very hard; the\nbreiff mark, it was very little; and the feeling mark, in which they had\nsense and pain.\" \"I remained very dissatisfied with this way of trial,\"\nsays my Lord farther on, \"as most fallacious; and the fellow could give me\nno account of the principles of his art, but seemed to be a drunken,\nfoolish rogue.\" One of Lizzie Mudie's five victims was an old woman of\neighty, named Marion Phinn, who had always borne a good character, \"never\nbeing stained with the least ignominy, far less with the abominable crime\nof witchcraft.\" But though she petitioned the council to free her on her\nown caution, she was kept hand-fast and foot-bound in gaol, being far too\ndangerous in the helplessness and feebleness of her eighty years to be let\nout with the chance of bewitching mankind to death. This she could do, and\nwork all other miracles; but she could not help herself to sunlight and\nliberty.\n\n\nBRAVE OLD KATHERINE LIDDELL.[60]\n\nIn 1678 two old women of Prestonpans were burnt. They made a voluntary\nconfession, and accused a few more of their craft. These in their turn\naccusing others, in a very short time seventeen unhappy creatures were\ncollected together, all charged with the sin of witchcraft, intercommuning\nwith the devil, voluntary transformation into ravens, cats, crows, &c.,\nwith all the other stock pieces of the hallucination. The judges seemed\ninclined to favour them, and Sir John Clerk of Pennycuik, when desired to\nsit on the commission appointed to try the seven given up by the parish of\nLoanhead, declined, \"alleging drily that he did not feel himself warlock\n(that is, conjuror) enough to be judge upon such an inquisition.\" These\npoor creatures had deep sleeps, during which no pinching would awake them;\nbut though the judges saw them when in these sleeps, and heard their\nconfessions as to where they had been and what they had been doing during\nthe time, they were regarded as diabolical trances, and dealt with\naccordingly. Nine of the East Lothian women were burnt, and the \"seven of\nLoanhead were reserved for future procedure.\" Among the accused was one\nKatherine Liddell, a strong-minded, stout-hearted, old widow, who feared\nno man, spoke her mind freely, and had a body with nerves like cart ropes\nand muscles of iron. The bailie of Prestonpans, John Rutherford, had\ncaused her to be seized in the late panic, and, though there was nothing\nagainst her, he had her pricked in various parts of her body \"to the great\neffusion of her blood, and whereby her skin is raised and her body highly\nswelled, and she is in danger of life.\" A drummer, two salt-makers, and\nothers, assisted him in this torture; for John Kincaid had found zealous\nfollowers: and any man with a peculiar temperament, and a heart hardened\nby superstition against suffering, might take on himself the office of\npricker to his own soul's satisfaction, and the torture and murder of his\nfellow-creatures. Katherine Liddell, besides being actively tortured, was\nkept without sleep for six days and nights, but the stout old woman would\nconfess nothing. On the contrary, she presented a petition to the\nCouncil, charging John Rutherford and the rest with \"defamation, false\nimprisonment, and open and manifest oppression,\" and demanded vengeance\nand restitution in loud and vigorous terms. The Council, unaccustomed to\nthis sort of thing, and used only to victims as tame as they were\nconsidered powerful, soon released her, dropping her like hot iron, and\ncondemning Rutherford and his associates as too hasty and ill-advised:\nthen, somewhat further redeemed themselves by an unusual act of justice\nand common sense, in sentencing David Cowan, \"pricker\"--the one who had\nbeen the most active of her tormentors--to be confined during pleasure in\nthe Tolbooth.\n\nKatherine Liddell did not do much good to her afflicted sisterhood, though\nshe had helped herself: for that same year, in August,[61] \"the devil had\na great meeting of witches in Loudian, where, among others, was a warlock\nwho formerly had been admitted to the ministrie in the Presbyterian tymes,\nand when the bishops came in conformed with them.\" This warlock minister\nwas Mr. Gideon Penman, minister of Crighton, and a man of notoriously\nloose life; but whether he carried his defiance of good so far as to dance\nwith the hags at the Sabbath, and \"beat up those that were slow,\" and\npreach damnable doctrines and blasphemous travesties of the Christian\nfaith in the devil's services, or whether he was only an immoral\nman--better out of the ministry than in it--remains for each reader's\nprivate judgment to determine. Ten of the accused stoutly affirmed that\nMr. Gideon Penman was their devil's parson; but as he as stoutly denied\nit, he was liberated on his own security, while nine out of the ten were\ncondemned to be strangled and burnt, which was done accordingly. They\ngave some curious details, as, that, when they renounced their baptism and\ngave themselves over to Satan by laying one hand on their head and the\nother on their feet he kissed them, and that he was cold to the touch, and\nhis breath like a damp air; that he scourged them oft, and was a most\n\"wicked and barbarous master;\" and that when he administered the sacrament\nto them the bread was like wafers, and the drink like blood or black\nmoss-water: that he transformed them to the likeness of bees, and crows,\nand ravens, when they flew about from place to place as he ordered.\n\n\nTHE DEVIL IN HIS CUPS.[62]\n\nOn December 19, 1679, the parish of Borrowstonness was again in an uproar\nconcerning the evil doings of witches and wizards, the chief of whom was\nAnnaple Thomson, once a widow, but now a wife. She was charged with having\none day met the devil on her way between Linlithgow and Borrowstonness,\nwhen he \"in the lyknes of ane black man told yow that yow wis ane poore\npuddled bodie, and had ane evill lyiff, and difficultie to win throw the\nwarld; and promised that iff ye wald followe him, and go alongst with him,\nyow should never want, but have ane better lyiff; and abowt fyve wekes\ntherafter, the Devill appeired to yow, when yow wis goeing to the\ncoal-hill, about sevin o'clock in the morning. Having renewed his former\ntentatiowne yow did condescend thereto, and declared yowrselff content to\nfollow him, and becwm his servant;\"--which was bad of Annaple Thomson, and\nsure to bring her to ineffectual grief. Then some others, men and women\nboth, were further informed of their misdeeds. They were told that \"ye,\nand each person of yow, wis at several mettings with the Devill in the\nlinkes of Borrowstownes, and in the howse of yow, Bessie Vickar, and ye\ndid eatt and drinke with the Devill, and with on another, and with witches\nin hir howss in the nycht tyme; and the Devill and the said William Craw\nbrowght the ale which ye drank, extending to about sevin gallons, from the\nhowss of Elisabeth Hamilton.\" So did the rest. Margaret Pringle, whose\nright wrist the devil had grievously pained, \"but having it twitched of\nnew againe, it immediatelie becam haill;\" Margaret Hamilton, with whom the\ndevil had at sundry times \"drank several choppens of ale with yow,\" when\nthey met at the town-well at Borrowstonness and talked together like two\nold gossips; also, another Margaret Hamilton, relict of James Pullwart,\nwith whom the devil conversed in the likeness of a black man, but\nafterwards removed from her as a dog--they all committed abominable sins\nwith the devil, and entertained him familiarly like any other cummer. And\nwere they not all at the meeting with the \"Devill and other witches at the\ncroce of Murestaine,\" above Kinneil, upon \"the threttin of October last,\nwhere yow all danced, and the Devill acted the pyiper, and where yow\nendevored to have destroyed Andrew Mitchell, sone to John Mitchell, elder\nin Dean of Kinneil?\" The case was considered clear enough for all rational\nmen in Borrowstonness; so Annabel Thomson, Margaret Pringle, the two\nMargaret Hamiltons, William Craw, and Bessie Vickar, were \"found guiltie\nbe ane assyse of the abominable cryme of Witchcraft,\" and were ordered to\nbe taken to the west end of Borrowstonness, \"the ordinar place of\nexecution,\" betwixt two and four in the afternoon, and \"there be wirried\nat a steack till they be dead, and thereafter to have their bodies burnt\nto ashes.\"\n\n\nTHE GHOST OF THE BLACK-BROWED MAID.[63]\n\nIf bodies were safe after death, characters were not. Isabel Heriot was\nmaid of all work to the minister at Preston. \"She was of a low Stature,\nsmall and slender of Body, of a Black Complexion. Her Head stood somewhat\nawry upon her Neck. She was of a droll and jeering Humour, and would have\nspoken to Persons of Honour with great Confidence.\" After some short time\nof service, her master the minister began to dislike her, because she was\nnot eager in her religious duties; so he discharged her: and in 1680 she\ndied--and \"about the time of her death her face became extreamly black.\"\nTwo or three nights after her burial, one Isabel Murray saw her, in her\nwhite grave-clothes, walk from the chapel to the minister's louping-on\nstone (horse-block). Here she halted, leaning her elbow on the stone, then\nwent in at the back gate, and so towards the stable. A few nights after\nthis stones were flung at the minister's house, over the roof, and in at\nthe doors and windows; but they fell softly for the most part, and did no\nespecial damage. Yet one night, just as the minister was coming in at the\nhall door, a great stone was flung after him, which hit the door very\nsmartly and marked it. Isabel Murray was also hit with stones, and the\nserving-man who looked to the horses was gripped at the heel by something\nwhich made him cry out lustily. So it went on. Stones and clods, and\nlighted coals, and even an old horse-comb long since lost, were\nperpetually flying about, and only by severe prayer was the minister able\nto lay the devil who molested them.\n\nSoon Isabel Murray reappeared with a fresh set of circumstances concerning\nthe ghost of her namesake Isabel Heriot, the maid of all work. She said\nthat as she was coming from church between sermons, to visit her house and\nkailyard for fear some vagrant cows might have got over the dyke--which\nwere very likely of the true Maclarty type--on going down her own yard,\nwhich was next to the minister's, she saw again the apparition of Isabel\nHeriot, as she was when laid in her coffin. \"Never was an egg liker to\nanother than this Apparition was like to her, as to her Face, her Stature,\nher Motion, her Tongue, and Behaviour; her face was black like the mouten\nsoot, the very colour which her face had when she died.\" The ghost was\nwalking under the fruit-trees, and over the beds where the seeds had been\nsown, bending her body downwards, as if she had been seeking somewhat off\nthe ground, and saying, \"A stane! a stane!\" Her lap was full of stones; as\nsome people supposed the stones she cast in the night-time; and these\nstones she threw down, as if to harbour them, at a bush-root in the\ngarden. Isobel Murray, nothing daunted, goes up to her.\n\n\"Wow!\" says she, \"what's thou doing here, Isabel Heriot? I charge thee by\nthe law thou lives on to tell me.\"\n\nSays the ghost, \"I am come again because I wronged my master when I was\nhis servant. For it was I that stealed his Shekel (this was a Jewish\nshekel of gold which, with some other things, had been stolen from him\nseveral years before), which I hid under the Hearthstone in the Kitching,\nand then when I flited took it into the Cannongate, and did offer to sell\nit to a French Woman who lodged where I served, who askt where I got it.\nI told her I found it between Leith and Edinburgh.\" Then she went on to\nmake further confession. Having fyled herself for a thief she went on to\nshow how she had been also a witch. \"One night,\" says the ghost, \"I was\nriding home late from the Town, and near the Head of Fanside Brae, the\nHorse stumbled, and I said, The Devil raise thee; whereupon the Foul Thief\nappeared presently to me, and threatened me, if I would not grant to\ndestroy my Master the Minister, he would throw me into a deep hole (which\nI suppose is yet remaining); or if I could not get power over my master, I\nshould strive to destroy the Shoolmaster.\"\n\n\"It was very remarkable,\" says George Sinclair, as a kind of commentary,\n\"that one of the minister's servant-women had given to the schoolmaster's\nservant-woman some Linnings to make clean, among which there was a Cross\ncloth of strong Linning, which could never be found, though diligent\nsearch was made for it, till one morning the Master awakening found it\nbound round about his Night Cap, which bred admiration both to himself and\nhis Wife. No more skaith was the Devil or the Witches able to do him. What\nway this was done, or for what end it cannot be well known: but it is\nsomewhat probable that they designed to strangle and destroy him in the\nnight time, which is their usual time in working and doing of mischief.\nThis happened about the time (I suppose) that the Devil had charged Isabel\nHeriot to destroy this honest man. Yet within two days a young child of\nhis, of a year old, fell sick, which was quickly pulled away by death,\nnone knowing the cause or nature of the disease.\"\n\nIsabel Murray went on to say, that furthermore the ghost confessed to\nher, that she, Isabel Heriot, when in life, had met the devil a second\ntime at Elfiston Mill, near to Ormiston: and she told what foulness the\ndevil did to her. Also, one night as she was coming home from Haddington\nMarket with some horse-corn, she met the devil at Knock-hills, and he bade\nher destroy Thomas Anderson, who was riding with her. When she refused he\nthrew all the horse-corn off the horse. \"This Thomas Anderson was a\nChristian man,\" and when Murray told her tale \"well remembered that Isabel\nhad got up the next morning timeously,\" and brought home her oats which\nhad lain in the road all the night. She said too that she had cheated her\nmaster whenever she went to the market to buy oats, charging him more than\nthey cost--not an unusual practice with servants at market anywhere; and\nshe told Isabel Murray that the stone cast at her was not for herself but\nfor her goodman, who had once flung her, the ghost, into the jawhole, and\nabused her. At this point Murray said she began to be frightened, and ran\nhome in all haste. So Isabel Heriot's character was settled for ever, and\nher neighbours only thought the judgment came too late.\n\n\nTHE SUCCUBUS.[64]\n\nWilliam Barton, a loose-lived man of notoriously strong passions, was\napprehended for witchcraft. His confession included the not very frequent\nScottish element of a Succubus--a demon under the form of a beautiful\nwoman who beguiled him, and to whom he made himself over for love and\ngold. She baptized him under the name of John Baptist, gave him her mark,\nand fifteen pounds Scots in good gold as Tocher-money; and then they\nparted. When he had gone but a little way she called him back and gave him\na mark to spend at the Ferry, desiring him to keep the fifteen pounds safe\nand unbroken. At this point in his confession the poor wretch was weary,\nand asked leave to go to sleep; which, for a wonderful stretch of\nhumanity, the judges granted. Suddenly he awakened with a loud laugh. The\nmagistrates asked why he laughed?--and he said that during his sleep the\ndevil had come to him, very angry at his confession, and bidding him deny\nall when he awoke, \"for he should be his Warrand.\" After this he became\n\"obdured,\" and would never confess anything again; the devil persuading\nhim that no man should take his life. And even when they told him that the\nstake was set up and the fire built round, he only answered, \"he cared not\nfor all that, for,\" said he, \"I shal not die this day.\" How should he if\nno man was to kill him? Upon this the executioner came into the prison,\nbut fell stone dead as he crossed the threshold. Hastily the magistrates\noffered a reward to the executioner's wife if she would undertake her\nhusband's office, and strangle the poor mad fellow before he was burnt;\nwhich she agreed to do, for all that she was in great pain and grief,\nclapping her hands and crying, \"Dool for this parting my dear burd Andrew\nMartin!\" When the warlock heard that a woman was to put him to death, he\nfell into a passion of crying, saying that the devil had deceived him, and\n\"let no man ever trust his promises again!\"\n\nBarton's wife was imprisoned with him. On her side she declared that she\nhad never known her husband to be a warlock; he on his that he had never\nknown her to be a witch: but presently the mask fell off, and she\nconfessed. She said that malice against one of her neighbours had driven\nher to give herself over to the devil, that he had baptized her by the\nname of Margaratus, and taken her to be very near to him; a great deal too\nnear for even a virtuous woman's thoughts. When asked if she had found\npleasure in his society, she answered, \"Never much.\" But one night, going\nto a witches' dance upon Pentland Hills, he went before them all in the\nlikeness of a rough tanny dog, playing on a pair of pipes. The spring he\nplayed, said she, was \"The silly bit chicken, gar cast it a pickle, and it\nwill grow mickle;\" and coming down the hill they had the best sport of\nall: the devil carried the candle and his tail went, \"ey wig wag, wig\nwag!\" Margaratus was burnt with her husband.\n\n\nTHE ISLAND WITCHES.\n\nThe Orkney and Shetland islanders were rich in witchcraft superstitions.\nThey had all the Norwegian beliefs in fullest, ripest quality, and held to\neverything that had been handed down to them from Harald Harfagre and his\nfollowers. Kelpies and trows, and brownies and trolls, which somehow or\nother went out with taxation and agriculture, peopled every stream and\nevery meadow, and witches were as many as there were men who loved nature,\nor women who had a faculty for healing and the instinct of making pets.\nSomewhere about the middle of the seventeenth century a woman was adjudged\na witch because she was seen going from Hilswick to Brecon with a couple\nof familiars in the form of black crows or corbies, which hopped on each\nside of her, all the way. Which thing, not being in the honest nature of\nthese fowls to do, she was strangled and burnt. But most frequently the\nimp took the form of a cat or dog; sometimes of a respectable human being;\nas was the case about seventy years ago, when it was notorious that the\ndevil, as a good braw countryman, helped a warlock's wife to delve while\nher husband was engaged at the Haaf. According to the same authority\ntoo,[65] not longer ago than this time, when the devil dug like any navvy,\na woman of the parish of Dunrossness was known to have a deadly enmity\nagainst a boat's crew that had set off from the Haaf. The day was\ncloudless, but the woman was a witch, and storms were as easy for her to\nraise as to blow a kiss from the hand. She took a wooden basin, called a\n_cap_, and set it afloat in a tub of water; then, as if to disarm\nsuspicion, went about her household work, chanting softly to herself an\nold Norse ditty. After she had sung a verse or two she sent her little\nchild to look at the tub, and see whether the cap was _whummilled_ (turned\nupside down) or no. The child said the water was stirring but the bowl was\nafloat. The woman went on singing a little louder; and presently sent the\nchild again to see how matters stood. This time the child said there was a\nstrange swell in the water, but the cap still floated. The woman then sang\nmore loud and fierce; and again she sent. The child came back saying the\nwaters were strangely troubled, and the cap was whummilled. Then she cried\nout, \"The turn is done!\" and left off singing. On the same day came word\nthat a fishing yawl had been lost in the Roust, and all on board drowned.\nThe same story is told of some women in the island of Fetlar, who, when a\nboat's crew had perished in the Bay of Funzie, were found sitting round a\nwell, muttering mysterious words over a wooden bowl supernaturally\nagitated. The whole thing, as Hibbert says, forcibly reminds one of the\nold Norse superstition of the Quern Song.\n\nIt was no unusual thing for men and women of otherwise peaceable and\ncleanly life to tamper with the elements in those dim and distant days.\nEven seventy years ago a man named John Sutherland of Papa Stour was in\nthe habit of getting a fair wind for weather-bound vessels: and the Knoll\nof Kibister, in the island of Bressay, now called Luggie's Knowe,[66]\ntestifies by its name to the skill and sorrowful fate of a well-known\nwizard of the seventeenth century. There on that steep hill used Luggie to\nlive, and in the stormiest weather managed somehow always to have his bit\nof fresh fish: angling with the most perfect success, even when the boats\ncould not come into the bay. When out at sea Luggie had nothing to do but\ncast out his lines to have as plentiful a dinner as he could desire. \"He\nwould out of Neptune's lowest kitchen, bring cleverly up fish well-boiled\nand roasted;\" but strange and mischancy as the art was, his companions got\naccustomed to it, \"and would by a natural courage make a merry meal\nthereof, not doubting who was cook.\" But Luggie's cleverness proved fatal\nto him. Men were not even adept fishers in those days without danger, and\njealousy and fear helped to swell the reputation of his natural skill into\nsupernatural power: so he was tried for a sorcerer, and burnt at a stake\nat Scalloway. We need hardly wonder at the fate of poor Luggie,\nconsidering the times. If it were possible to hang two women on the 26th\nof January, 1681--actually to hang them in the sight of God and this\nloving pitiful human world, \"for calling kings and bishops perjured bloody\nmen,\"[67] we need not wonder to what lengths superstition in any of its\nother forms was carried. We have made a stride since then, with\nseven-leagued boots winged at the heels.\n\nA family of bright young sons[68] lived on one of the Shetland islands. A\ncertain Norwegian lady had reason to think herself slighted by one of\nthem, and she swore she would have her revenge. The sons were about to\ncross a voe or ferry; but one was to take his shelty, while the rest were\nto go by the boat. Mysteriously the shelty was found to have been loosed\nfrom its tether, and was gone; so all the heirs male of the race were\nunder the necessity of going by the boat across the voe. It was the close\nof day---a mild windless evening: not a ripple was on the water, not a\ncloud in the sky; and no one on either bank heard a cry or saw the waters\nstir. But the youths never returned home. When they were searched for the\nnext day they could nowhere be found: only the boat drifting to the shore,\nunharmed and unsteered. When the deed was done the shelty was brought back\nto its tether as mysteriously as it had been taken away.\n\nTrials and executions still went on; some at Dumfries, and some at\nColdingham[69] where Margaret Polwart was publicly rebuked for using\ncharms and incantations to recover her sick child whom \"that thief\nChristian Happer had wronged.\" But as a neighbour told her very wisely,\n\"They that chant cannot charm, or they that lay on cannot take off the\ndisease, or they that do wrong to any one, cannot recover them,\" so what\nwas the good of all her notorious cantrips with Jean Hart and Alison\nNisbet--the last of such evil fame that she had lately been scratched for\na witch--that is, had blood drawn above her breath? Margaret Polwart might\nbe thankful that she got off with only a rebuke for using charms in place\nof drugs, and consorting with witches to undo witches' work. In 1696,\nJanet Widdrow and Isobel Cochrane were brought to trial, but not burnt for\nthe present; but two poor creatures, M'Rorie and M'Quicken, did not\nescape: nor some others, of no special dramatic interest.\n\nAnd now we come to that marvellous piece of disease and imposture\ncombined, the notorious case of \"Bargarran's Daughter.\"\n\n\nTHE RENFREWSHIRE WITCHES.[70]\n\nChristian Shaw, Bargarran's daughter, was a little girl of about eleven\nyears of age, \"of a lively character and well inclined.\" On the 17th of\nAugust, 1696, she saw the woman servant, Katherine Campbell, steal a drink\nof milk from the can, whereupon she threatened to tell her mother; but\nCampbell, \"being a young woman of a proud and revengeful temper, and much\naddicted to cursing and swearing upon any light occasion,\" turned against\nher vehemently, wishing \"that the Devil might harle her soul through\nhell,\" and cursing her with violent imprecations. Five days after this,\nAgnes Naismith, an old woman of bad fame, came into the courtyard, and\nasked Christian how old she was, and how she did, inquiring also after the\nhealth of other members of the family. Christian gave her a pert answer,\nand there the matter ended; but the next night the young girl was taken\nwith fits, and the first act of the long and mournful tragedy began. In\nher fits she cried out against Katherine Campbell and Agnes Naismith,\nsaying they were cutting her side and otherwise tormenting her; then she\nstruggled as with an unseen enemy, and her body was, now bowed stiff and\nrigid, resting in an arch on her head and her heels alone, and now shaken\nwith such a strange motion of rising and falling, as it had been a pair of\nbellows; her tongue was drawn into her throat, and even the great Dr.\nBrisbane of Glasgow himself was puzzled by what name to call her passion,\nfor she began to vomit strange things, which she said the witches, her\ntormentors, forced upon her--such as crooked pins, small fowl bones,\nsticks of candle fir, filthy hay, gravel stones, lumps of candle-grease,\nand egg-shells. And still she cried out against Katherine Campbell and\nAgnes Naismith; holding long conversations with the former, whom she\naffirmed to be sitting close by when she was perhaps many miles away, and\narguing with her out of the Bible: exhorting her to repent of her sins\nwith more unction than logical clearness of reasoning. Agnes Naismith she\ntook somewhat into favour again; for the poor old woman, having been\nbrought by the parents into the chamber where she lay, and having prayed\nfor her a little simple prayer very heartily, the afflicted damsel\ncondescended to exempt her from further persecution for the moment, saying\nthat she was now her defender and did protect her from the fury of the\nrest. For the crafty child had seen too well how her first venture had\nsped not to venture on a broader cast. One day being in her fits she made\na grip with her hands as if to catch something, then exclaimed that J. P.\nwas then tormenting her, and that she had got a grip of his jerkin which\nwas \"duddie\" (tattered) at the elbows; and immediately her mother and\naunt heard the tearing of cloth, and the girl showed them in her hands two\npieces of red cloth newly torn, where never a bit of red cloth had been\nbefore. Then she went off into a swoon or \"swerf,\" and lay as if dead a\nconsiderable time. These fits continued with more or less severity far\ninto the winter of the next year, and with ever new victims claimed by her\nas her tormentors. Now it was Elizabeth Anderson; now James and Thomas\nLindsay--the latter a young lad of eleven, \"the gley'd or squint-eyed\nelf,\" as she called him; now \"the scabbed-faced lass,\" who came to the\ndoor to ask alms; and now the weary old Highland body, begging for a\nnight's lodging; then Alexander Anderson, father of Elizabeth; and Jean\nFulton, the grandmother; and then Margaret Lang--Pincht Margaret as she\nwas called--\"a Name given her by the Devil, from a Pincht Cross cloath,\nordinarily worn on her Brow;\" and her daughter, Martha Semple. Of the\ntwenty-one people accused by this wicked girl, Margaret Lang and her\ndaughter were the most remarkable--the one for her courage, her fine\ncharacter and powerful mind, the other for her youth, her beauty, and\nchild-like innocence of nature. When she heard that she was accused,\nMargaret--who had been advised to get out of the way for a time, but who\nhad answered disdainfully, \"Let them quake that dread and fear that need,\nbut I will not gang\"--went up straight to Bargarran house, and passing\ninto the chamber where Christian lay, put her arms round her and spoke to\nher soothingly, saying, \"The Lord bless thee and ding the devil frae\nthee!\" She then asked her pointedly if she had ever seen her among her\ntormentors?--to which the girl said. \"No, but she had seen her daughter\nMartha.\" Afterwards she retracted this admission and said that Margaret\nhad really afflicted her, but that she was under a spell when asked and\ncould not confess. Martha could not take things so gently. \"She was as\nwell-Favoured and Gentill a Lass as you'l look on, and about 17 or 18\nyears of Age,\" says an old authority in an anonymous letter written to a\ncouple of initials. Poor Martha! her youth and beauty and passionate\ndistress moved even the bigoted wretches who condemned her; but their\ncompassion led to nothing pitiful or merciful, and the poor, bright,\nbeautiful girl passed into the awful doom of the rest. Then the\nauthorities \"questioned\" the witches; they were pricked, according to\ncustom and the national law; and \"There was not any of them, save Margaret\nFulton, but marks were found on them, which were altogether insensible.\nThat a Needle of 3 Inches length was frequently put in without their\nknowledge, nor would any Blood come from these places.\" Elizabeth\nAnderson, a girl of seventeen, a beggar, James Lindsay, of fourteen, and\ngley'd Thomas, his brother, not yet twelve--who for a halfpenny would turn\nhimself widershins and stop a plough at a word--were found willing and\nable to confess. Elizabeth Anderson was especially determined that things\nshould not be lost for the want of finding. She said that about twenty\ndays ago her father had told her to go with him to Bargarran's yard,\nsomewhere about noon, where they met a black man with a bonnet on his\nhead, and a band round his neck, whom her father and Agnes Naismith, then\npresent, told her was the devil: that certain people, named, were also in\ntheir company; that their discourse was all of Christian Shaw, then lying\nsick, \"whose Life they all promis'd to take away by the stopping of her\nBreath;\" that they all danced in the yard; that her father \"Discharged\nher to tell anything she saw, or she would be Torn in Pieces: and that she\nwas more Affraied of the forsaid persons than she was of the Devil.\" This\nconfession was made on the 5th of February, 1697. A few days later her\nimagination was more lively. About seven years ago, she said, as she was\nplaying round the door of her grandmother, Jean Fulton's, house, she saw\n\"ane black grim man\" go into the house to her grandmother, where he abode\nfor a while talking. Jean bade her take the gentleman by the hand, and he\nwould give her \"ane Bony Black, new Coat; which accordingly she did.\" But\nhis hand was cold and she was afeard: and then he vanished away. The same\nthing happened once again, when the black gentleman and her grandmother\nfell a-talking together by \"rounding in other's ears,\" but the girl\nunderstood not what they said. This time she would not touch his hand for\nall his promises of bran new clothes; so \"the gentleman went away in a\nflight,\" and she saw him no more for long after. The next time was when\nher father \"desired her to go with him through the Country and seek their\nMeat; to which she replyed she need not seek her Meat, seeing she might\nhave Work:\" but her father prevailed, and took her to a moor where above\ntwenty people were assembled; whose names she gives in a formidable\nmuster. Now the devil tempted her anew with meat and clothes, but she\nwould not consent; so he and her father stepped aside and conferred\ntogether. Their meeting this day was for the destruction of a certain\nminister's child, which they were to effect by means of a wax picture and\npins. Another time it was for the destruction of another minister's child\nby the same means, and she heard Margaret Rodger say, \"Stay a little, till\nI stop ane Pin in the Heart of it:\" which accordingly she did. This time\nher father took her on his back over the water to Kilpatrick in a Flight,\nsaying Mount and Fly. She was with the witch crew when they drowned\nBrighouse by upsetting his boat, and when they strangled a child with a\nsea napkin: after which they all danced with the devil \"in ane black Coat,\nane Blew Bonnet, ane Blew Band,\" who played the pipes for them, and gave\nthem each a piece of an unchristened bairn's liver to eat, so that they\nshould never confess if apprehended. With other abominations too foul to\nbe repeated.\n\nThe same day, February 18th, James Lindsay, the elder of the two brothers,\nconfessed. Jean Fulton was his grandmother too, and he said that one day,\nwhen she met him, she took his little round hat and plack from him. Being\nloath to part with the same, he ran after her crying for them: which she\nrefusing, he called her an old witch, and ran away. Whereupon she\nthreatened him. Eight days after this, as he was begging through the\ncountry near Inchannan where she lived, he met her again; and this time\nshe had with her \"ane black grim man with black cloaths, ane black Hat and\nblew Band,\" who offered his hand, which James took and which he found cold\nas it gript him straitly. The gentleman asked if he would serve him for a\nBonny black coat and a black hat, and several other things, to which he\nreplied \"Yes, I'll do't.\" He then went to all the meetings, and saw all\nthe people and did all the things that Elizabeth had spoken of; even to\nstrangling Montgomerie's bairn with a sea napkin at twelve o'clock at\nnight, while the servant girl was watching by the cradle. Young Thomas the\ngley'd followed next, confessing to just the same things, even to the\nliver of the \"uncrissened bairn,\" which all eat save Elizabeth and their\ntwo selves: a slip-by that accounted for their confessions. And now\njustice had a good handful to begin with, so the work of accusation went\nbriskly forward. Bargarran's daughter still continued bringing out crooked\npins and stones and all sorts of unmentionable filth from her mouth, and\nstill went on quarrelling with the devil whom she called an old sow, and\nholding conversations with the apparitions of her tormentors, still mixed\nup fraud with epilepsy, and lies and craft and wicked guile with hysteria,\ntill the witch-fires were fairly lighted, and seven of the poor wretches\n\"done to death.\" Among whom brave Margaret and her beautiful child held\nthe most prominent place. Never for a moment did Margaret Lang lose her\ncourage or self-possession. Seeing a farmer whom she knew, among the crowd\nassembled round the gallows, she called out to him bitterly, \"that he\nwould now thrive like a green bay-tree, for there would be no innocent\nblood shed that day;\" but what she meant for irony the people took for\nconfession. When she was burned, the answer of a spectator to one who\nasked if the execution was over, showed what feeling they had about her:\n\"There's ane o' the witches in hell, an' the rest 'ill shune follow!\" said\nhe contentedly. Another man, whose stick was taken to push back the legs\nof the poor wretches as they were thrust out of the flames, when it was\nreturned to him, flung it into the flames, saying, \"I'll tak nae stick\nhame wi' me to nay hous that has touched a witch.\" When all was over and\nthe sacrifice was complete, Bargarran's daughter declared herself\nsatisfied and cured; no more \"bumbees\" came to pinch her--no more charms\nof balls of hair or waxen eggs were laid beneath her bed--no more\napparitions thronged to vex her, nor had she fits or tossings, foamings\nor strange swellings as of old; the devil left off tempting her with\npromises of a fine gentleman for a husband; the witches no longer allured\nher by phantom aprons filled with phantom almonds; the Lord \"helped the\npoor daft child,\" as Mrs. M. had prayed, though she was scarce worth the\nhelping, and the world was oppressed with her lies no more. But the blood\nof the murdered innocent lay red on the ground, and cried aloud to heaven\nfor vengeance against the murderers. The case of Bargarran's daughter has\nbeen always accepted as one of the most puzzling on record; but when may\nnot mankind be puzzled if they have but sufficient credulity? Subtract\nfrom this account the possible and the certain--the possible frauds and\nthe certain lies--and what is left? A diseased girl, hysterical and\nepileptic, full of hallucinations and pretended fancies, with a certain\nquickness of hand which the tremendous gullibility of her auditory\nrendered yet more facile--unscrupulous, mendacious; the only thing\nsurprising in the whole matter was that there was not one man of\nsufficient coolness of judgment, or quickness of perception, to see\nthrough the imposture and set his grip on it ere it passed. Dickie and\nMitchell, who a few years back visited the house where all this took\nplace, found a slit or hole in the wooden partition between her bedroom\nand the room next it; a slit, evidently made purposely, and not a natural\ndefect in the wood, and so placed that when the bed was made up (the bed\nof richly-carved oak yet stands or stood there) it could not be seen by\nany one in the room. This little fact seems to speak volumes, and to help\nmaterially towards establishing the questions of fraud and connivance. The\nremote sequel is the only consoling feature in the case. From being the\nmost notorious impostor and the most cruel, false, and deadly persecutor\nof her time, Bargarran's daughter, as Mrs. Miller, became one of the best\nand most famous spinners of fine and delicate thread. She caused certain\nmachinery to be brought from Holland, and wrought at her spinning wheel\nwith all the intelligence and zeal that, earlier, had been so miserably\nemployed to the ruin and destruction of her fellow-creatures. It is to be\nhoped that the coolness and reflection of maturity gave her grace to\nrepent of the sins of her girlhood, and that after-penitence wiped out the\nterrible stains of youthful lying and murder.\n\n\nMISCELLANEOUS.\n\nThat same year also Sir John Maxwell, of Pollok, and some other gentlemen,\nwere commissioned to try two poor women, Mary Millar and Elspeth M'Ewen,\nand if guilty adjudge them to death; which they were found to be, and\nadjudged accordingly; and a few months after, Margaret Laird--still in\nRenfrewshire--was reputed to have been \"under ane extraordinary and most\nlamentable trouble, falling into strange and horrible fits, judged by all\nwho have seen her to be preternatural, arising from the devil and his\ninstruments.\" The suspected witches who were accused of troubling her,\nwere seized and put upon their trial. So was Mary Morrison, spouse of\nFrancis Duncan; but her husband petitioned so earnestly for her release\nfor sake of her \"numerous poor family\" starving in neglect at home, and\nthere being no kind of proof against her, she was at length released and\nset at liberty. \"The Lord-Advocate soon after reported to the Privy\nCouncil a letter he had received from the Sheriff of Renfrewshire, stating\nthat 'the persons imprisoned in that county as witches are in a starving\ncondition, and that those who informed against them are passing from them,\nand the sheriff says he will send them in prisoners to Edinburgh Tolbooth,\nunless they be quickly tried.' His lordship was recommended to ask the\nsheriff to support the prisoners till November next, when they would\nprobably be tried, and the charges would be disbursed by the treasury. A\ndistinct allowance of a groat a day was ordered on the 12th of January,\n1699, for each of the Renfrewshire witches.\"[71]\n\nIn July of the same year, Ross-shire contributed a famous quota. Twelve\nluckless creatures were reported at once as being guilty of the\n\"diabolical crimes and charms of witchcraft,\" and by the 2nd of January,\n1700, two of them had confessed, and were sentenced to such arbitrary\npunishment as the committee might think proper. \"This is the first\nappearance of an inclination in the central authorities to take mild views\nof witchcraft,\" says Chambers; but we have not seen the last of capital\npunishments, for on the 20th of November, 1702, Margaret Myles was hanged\nat Edinburgh. That she was a witch was proved not only by her own\nconfession, but by her inability to say the Lord's Prayer, even when the\nminister, Mr. George Andrews, tried to teach her. When he desired her to\npray \"her heart was so obdured that she answered she could not; for, as\nshe confessed, she was in covenant with the devil, who had made her\nrenounce her baptism.\" He then wished her to say the Lord's Prayer after\nhim, and she began, but she would say nothing but \"Our Father which wart\nin heaven,\" and could not by any means be got to say the right word. He\nthen reproached her, saying, \"How could she bid him pray for her, since\nshe could not pray for herself?\" and, singing two verses of the 51st\nPsalm, he made her show a little penitence. Then he essayed her again,\ntrying to make her repeat after him, \"I renounce the devil,\" but she would\nonly say, \"I unce the devil;\" \"for by no means would she say distinctly\nthat she renounced the devil, and adhered unto her baptism, but that she\nunced the devil, and hered unto her baptism. The only sign of repentance\nshe gave was after the napkin had covered her face, for then she said,\n'Lord, take me out of the devil's hands, and put me in God's.'\"\n\nThe next year, \"The Rigwoodie Witch,\" lean Marion Lillie of Spott, was had\nbefore the Kirk Session to account for her dealings in the village. She\nwas a passionate-tongued old dame, who had handled roughly one of her\nneighbours while in the condition that looked forward to Mrs. Gamp and the\ncaudle-cup; so roughly, indeed, that Mrs. Gamp and the caudle-cup were\nforestalled, and the poor woman was brought to an unpleasant pass; so the\nRigwoodie witch got something not so pleasant as a month's nursing, and\nwas put out of the way of handling pregnant women roughly for the future.\n\n\nTHE STIRK'S FOOT.[72]\n\nJean Neilson lived in Torryburn, a village in the west of Fife, and she\nand Lillias Adie, a woman of more than equivocal reputation, were not on\nthe best of terms. Jean Neilson was but a poor sickly body, full of\nfancies and uncatalogued ailments; and because she had no scientific name\nto give them, she gave Lillias the credit of having created them by her\nmagic. She swore that she was bewitched, and that old Lillias was the\nbewitcher. Upon which the ministers and elders of the kirk in Torryburn\nmet in solemn conclave on the 29th of July, and called Lillias before them\nto give an account of her bad practices. Lillias had no mind that they\nshould lose their trouble. She confessed herself a witch without further\nado; said how that she had met the devil by the side of a \"stook\" in the\nharvest field, where she had renounced her baptism and accepted him on the\ninstant as her lord and lover; how he had embraced her, when she found his\nskin cold, and saw his feet cloven like a \"stirk's.\" Since then she had\njoined in dances with him and others whom she named; for Lillias, like all\nthe rest, seemed to think there was safety in a multitude, and delated\nseveral of the parish, to bear her company in her uncomfortable position;\nand she told how, at the back of Patrick Sands' house in Vellyfield, they\nwere lighted by a mysterious light, just sufficient to let them see each\nother's faces, and to show the devil with a cap covering his ears and\nneck. The minister and elders had now rich game in view, and they held\nmeeting after meeting to examine those whom Lillias accused, and feed\ntheir ears with all the wild and monstrous tales they chose to pour into\nthem. But what became of them eventually no one now knows: only of a\nsurety Lillias Adie was burned \"within the sea mark,\" and Jean Neilson\nmight now bear her uncatalogued ailments in peace. The minister of\nTorryburn at that time was one Allen Logan--the Reverend Allen\nLogan--notorious for his skill in detecting witches, and his zeal in\nhunting them down. When administering the communion he would flash his eye\nthrough the congregation and say harshly, as by knowledge, \"You\nwitch-wife, get up from the table of the Lord,\" casting a ball for the\nconscience-stricken to kick at; when, ten to one, some poor old trembling\nwretch would totter up, and so go mumbling through the doors, \"thus\nexposing herself to the hazard of a regular accusation afterwards.\" He was\nalways \"dinging\" against witchcraft; and one day a woman called Helen Kay\ntook up her stool and went out of the church. She said she thought he was\n\"daft\" \"to be always dinging against witches thae' gait;\" but the elders\nthought differently, and Helen Kay was convicted of profanity, and\nordained to sit before the congregation and be openly rebuked.\n\n\nTHE HORRIBLE MURDER OF JANET CORNFOOT.[73]\n\nWhile Lillias Adie was being burned in the west of Fife, Beatrix Laing, at\nPittenweem in the east, was put to sore trouble. Patrick Morton, a youth\nof sixteen \"free from any known vice,\" sent up a petition to the Privy\nCouncil (June 13, 1704), stating, that being employed by his father to\nmake some nails for a ship lying off Pittenweem, Beatrix Laing, spouse to\nWilliam Brown, tailor, and late treasurer of the burgh, came and demanded\nsome nails. He \"modestly\" refused her, saying that he was engaged in\nanother job, and could not therefore work for her; whereupon she went\naway, \"threatening to be revenged, which did somewhat frighten him,\nbecause he knew she was under a bad fame and reputed for a witch.\" The\nnext day, on passing Beatrix's door, \"he observed a timber vessel with\nsome water and fire coal in it at the door, which made him apprehend that\nit was a charm laid for him, and the effect of her threatening; and\nimmediately he was seized with such a weakness in his limbs that he could\nhardly stand or walk.\" For many weeks this strange kind of lingering\ndisease and discomfort went on, he \"still growing worse, having no\nappetite, and his body strangely emaciated,\" all because of Beatrix having\n\"slockened\" fire coals in a vessel as a malevolent charm for him; till\nabout May the disease ripened, and the symptoms of hysteria and epilepsy\npresented themselves. He swelled prodigiously; his breathing was like the\nblowing of a pair of bellows; his body was rigid and inflexible; his\ntongue was drawn into his mouth; and he cried out vehemently against\nBeatrix Laing and others--for these accusations never came alone;\nprofessing to know his tormentors by their touch if brought to him,\nalthough his eyes were blinded, and the bystanders held their peace. In\nshort, he played the same antics here in the east as Bargarran's daughter\nhad played in the west. Beatrix and the rest were flung into prison, and\nevery effort was made to induce them to confess. Beatrix was pricked, and\nkept without sleep for five days and nights; but she held out manfully.\nShe would not consent to accept the modest youth's interpretation of his\nillness, and denied strongly all hand in it, and all trafficking with\nwitch charms or unholy arts. At last she was conquered. Sleeplessness and\ntorture did their appointed work, and she made a rambling statement of\nbaptismal renunciation, and the like, delating Janet Cornfort and others,\nwhich confession she recanted as soon as she had got a little strength;\nand specially that part where she had spoken of her fine packs of wool\nwhich she had sold so well at the market, coming home afterwards on a big\nblack horse, which she gave into her husband's hands. Her husband, she had\nsaid, was embarrassed with this big black horse, and asked what he should\ndo with it? to which she had answered, \"Cast his bridle on his neck and\nyou will be quit of him.\" So the horse flew off overhead with a great\nnoise, and Beatrix Laing's startled husband for the first time understood\nits real character.\n\nIn revenge at her obduracy the magistrates \"put her in the stocks, and\nthen carried her to the Thieves' Hole, and from that transported her to a\ndark dungeon, where she was allowed no manner of light, or human converse;\nand in this condition she lay for five months.\" All this while the\nmagistrates of the burgh were pressing on the Privy Council the absolute\nneed of trying her; but the Earl of Balcarres and Lord Anstruther, two\nmembers of the council connected with the district, interposed their\ninfluence, and got the poor creature set at liberty;--\"brought her off as\na dreamer,\" says the anonymous pamphlet angrily. But she was forced to\nturn her face from Pittenweem, and \"wandered about in strange places, in\nthe extremity of hunger and cold, though she had a competency at home, but\ndared not come near her own house,\" for fear of the fury and rage of the\npeople: dying at last \"undesired\" in her bed at St. Andrews.\n\nBeatrix was wandering about in strange places, safe if sorrowful, but\nAlexander Macgregor clinched her muttered charge against Janet Cornfoot by\naccusing her of perpetually haunting him--she and two other witches, and\nhis Cloutieship along with them. They tormented him chiefly in the night\ntime, while he was sleeping in his bed. Janet, under torture confessed;\nbut retracted immediately after, saying that the minister himself had\nbeaten her with his staff to make her speak out: and there being\nconsiderable doubt of her guilt in the minds of the gentry of the\ndistrict, even of the chastising minister himself, she was allowed to\nescape, by connivance. But another minister of the neighbourhood, with\nmore zeal than humanity and more grace than knowledge, stopped her in her\nflight, and sent her back to Pittenweem. There the mob got hold of her.\nThey had been fearfully excited by Beatrix Laing's acquittal and Janet's\nescape, and they were not disposed to let this unexpected glut to their\nvengeance go. They seized poor Janet Cornfoot, tied her up hard in a rope,\nbeat her unmercifully, then dragged her by the heels through the streets\nand along the shore. \"The appearance of a bailie for a brief space\ndispersed the crowd, but only to show how easily the authorities might\nhave protected their victim if they had chosen.\" Resuming their horrible\nwork, the rabble tied Janet to a rope stretching between a vessel in the\nharbour and the shore, swinging her to and fro, and amusing themselves by\npelting her with stones. Tiring at length of this sport, they let her down\nwith a sharp fall upon the beach, beat her again unmercifully, and finally\ncovering her with a door, pressed her to death (Jan. 30, 1705). Janet's\ndaughter was in the town, and knew what was taking place down by that\nblood-stained shore, but she dared not interfere; and during all the time\nthis hideous murder was going on--lasting for nearly three hours--neither\nmagistrate nor minister came forward to protect or interpose. Are verily\nand in truth \"the powers that be ordained of God,\" or has not the devil\nsometimes something to do with the laying on of hands?--so much of the\ndevil, at least, as is represented by ignorance, inhumanity, superstition,\nand cowardice, always conspicuous qualities of the more zealous of every\ndenomination.\n\nAbout this time,[74] Thomas Brown, another of the accused, died of \"hunger\nand hardship\" in prison; and at the close of the year, two Inverness men,\nGeorge and Lachlan Rattray, were executed, being found \"guilty of the\nhorrid crimes of mischievous charms, by witchcraft and malefice, sorcery\nor necromancy.\" And many witches were also burnt on the top of Spott Loan.\n\n\nTHE SPELL OF THE SLAP.[75]\n\nIn 1708, William Stensgar, of Southside, in Orkney, had rheumatism. He\nsent to an old beggar-woman, called Catherine Taylor--a cripple herself,\nbut none the less qualified to heal others by her magic arts. She came to\nhim about an hour before sunrise and took the case in hand, bidding him\nfollow her till they came to a certain kind of gate or stile, called a\nslap or grind; William's wife accompanying them with a stoup of water. At\nthis slap Catherine touched his knee, saying, \"As I was going by the way I\nmet the Lord Jesus Christ in the likeness of another man; he asked me what\ntidings I had to tell? I said I had no tidings to tell, but I am full of\npain, and can neither gang nor stand. Thou shalt go to the holy kirk, and\nthou shalt gang round about, and then sit down upon thy knees, and say thy\nprayers to the Lord, and then thou shalt be as heal as the hour when\nChrist was born.\" After this precious charm, which the old cripple said\nhad been taught her when a child, she repeated the 23rd Psalm; and then\nthe evil spirit which had caused the rheumatism was assumed to be \"telled\nout\" into the stoup of water; at all events William Stensgar would have no\nmore of it. Then the water was emptied out over the slap or gate so that\nthe next person passing by the stile might get it instead of William. One\nman who had watched this devilry from the beginning, evaded the foul fiend\nby pushing his way through the hedge higher up; but another unfortunate\nwretch, not so lucky or not so early a riser, coming blundering over the\nstile as usual, got laid hold of by the fiend which William Stensgar had\nshaken off, and was holden by it hardly.\n\n\nTHE PLAGUE OF CATS.[76]\n\nYear by year witches became scarcer, none of any special note presenting\nthemselves till we come to the case of Margaret Nin-Gilbert, of Caithness,\nwhich happened in the year 1718; the same year as that in which the\nminister of Redcastle lost his life by witchcraft, and Mr. M'Gill's house\nat Kinross (he was minister there) was so egregiously troubled by a spirit\nwhich nipped the sheets and stuck pins into eggs and meat, and clipt away\nthe laps of a gentlewoman's hood and a servant maid's gown tail, and flung\nstones down the chimney, which \"wambled a space\" on the floor, and then\ntook a flight out of the window, and threw the minister's bible into the\nfire, and spoilt the baking, and played all sorts of mad pranks to\ndisquiet the family and defy God. If such things as these could be done\nin the light of the sun, why, should not Margaret Nin-Gilbert have\nsupernatural power? Nin-Gilbert had a friend, one Margaret Olson, a woman\nof it is said wicked behaviour, whom Mr. Frazer put out of her house,\ntaking as his tenant instead one William Montgomerie. Upon this Margaret\nOlson went to her friend Nin-Gilbert, the notorious witch, and besought\nher to harm Mr. Frazer; but Mr. Frazer being a gentleman of rank and\nfortune was defended from the witches, and Nin-Gilbert confessed she had\nno power or inclination to hurt him. However, one night as he was crossing\na bridge, they attempted him, but succeeded not; and he, on being\nquestioned, said he perfectly remembered \"his horse making a great adoe at\nthat place, but that by the Lord's goodness he escaped.\" Also he had a\ngreat sickness at the time these women were taken, but he had common sense\nenough to refuse to ascribe it to them. Finding that they could not\nprevail against Mr. Frazer, they turned their attention to Montgomerie,\n\"mason, in Burnside of Scrabster,\" who was also under the ban for having\naccepted the tenancy of which Margaret Olson had been dispossessed.\nSuddenly his house became so infested with cats that it was no longer safe\nfor his family to remain there. He himself was away, but his wife sent to\nhim five times, threatening that if he did not return home to protect\nthem, she would flit to Thurso; and his servant left them suddenly, and in\nmid term, because five of these cats came one night to the fireside where\nshe was alone, and began speaking among themselves with human and\nintelligible voices. So William Montgomerie, mason at Scrabster, returned\nhome to do battle with the enemy. The cats came in their old way and in\ntheir old numbers; and William prepared his best. On Friday night, the\n28th of November, one of the cats got into a chest with a hole in it, and\nwhen she put her head out of the hole, William made a lunge at her with\nhis sword, which \"cutt hir,\" but for all that he could not hold her. He\nthen opened the chest, and his servant, William Geddes, stuck his dirk\ninto her hind quarters and pinned her to the chest. After which,\nMontgomerie beat her with his sword and cast her out for dead; but the\nnext morning she was gone; so there was no doubt as to her true character.\nFour or five nights after this, his servant, being in bed, \"cryed out that\nSome of these catts had come in on him.\" Montgomerie ran to his aid, wrapt\nhis plaid about the cat and thrust his dirk through her body, then smashed\nher head with the back of an axe, and cast her out like the first. The\nnext morning she too was gone, and there was proof positive for another\ncase. So as none of these cats belonged to the neighbourhood, and there\nwere eight of them assembled together in one night, \"this looking like\nwitchcraft, it being threatened that none should thrive in my said house,\"\nWilliam Montgomerie made petition to the Sherrif-Deput of Caithness, to\nvisit \"some person of bad fame,\" who was reported to have fallen sick\nimmediately on this encounter, and search out if she had any wounds on her\nbody or not. \"This representation seeming all the time to be very\nincredulous and fabulous, the sheriff had no manner of regard yrto.\" But\nwhen, on the 12th of February, Margaret Nin-Gilbert was seen by one of her\nneighbours \"to drop at her own door one of her leggs from the midle, and\nshe, being under bad fame for witchcraft, the legg, black and putrified,\nwas brought before the Sheriff-depute\" (not the sheriff himself, the Earl\nof Caithness, who might have had a little more common sense)--then the\nsaid Sheriff-depute ordered Nin-Gilbert to be seized and examined.\nMargaret made short work of it. Being interrogated the 8th of February,\n1719, she confessed that she was under compact with the devil, whom she\nhad met in the likeness of a black man as she was travelling some long\ntime byegone in ane evening; confessed also that he sometimes appeared to\nher as a great black horse, and other times as if riding on a black horse,\nand sometimes as a black cloud, and sometimes as a black hen. Confessed\nalso that she was at William Montgomerie's house that evening, when he\nattacked her as a cat, and that he broke her leg with the dirk or axe,\nwhich since had fallen off from the rest of her body: also, that Margaret\nOlson was there with her, who, being stronger than she did cast her on the\ndirk when her leg was broken. She then delated four other women, one of\nwhom, Helen Andrew, had been so crushed and maimed by Montgomerie, \"that\nshe dyed that same night of her wounds or few days yrafter:\" and another,\nM'Huistan, \"cast herself a few days afterwards from the rocks of\nBorrowstoun into the sea, since which time she was never seen; while a\nthird, Jannet Pyper, she identified as having a red petticoat on her.\nAsked how they managed not to be discovered said, the devil raised a fog\nor mist to conceal them.\" When her confession was ended, her accomplices\nwere apprehended; but she herself died in prison in a fortnight's time.\nMargaret Olson was then examined. She was \"tryed in the shoulders\" (for\nwitches' marks), \"where there were several small spots, some read, some\nblewish; after a needle was driven in with great force almost to the eye\nshe felt it not. Mr. Innes, Mr. Oswald, minister, and several honest\nwomen, and Bailzie Forbes, were witnesses to this. And further, that\nwhile the needle was in her shoulder, as aforesaid, she said, 'Am not I\nane honest woman now?'\" So this instance of human wickedness and folly\nended by the usual method of the cord and the stake.\n\n\nTHE YOUNG HONOURABLE'S DECEITS.\n\nJanuary, 1720, saw distress and confusion at Calder in Mid Lothian. Lord\nTorphichen's third son, the Honourable Patrick Sandilands, was bewitched,\nand the whole country was in excitement. If the devil could touch a Lord's\nson, who was safe? There was no doubt of the fact, let who would deny it.\nLord Torphichen's son though he was, the Honourable Patrick Sandilands was\nworse holden than the meanest hind on the estate. He was buffeted about\nthe room; flung down in trances, from which no horsewhippings--and it is\nto be hoped he had plenty of them, and well laid on--could revive him; he\npronounced prophecies; was lifted up in the air; taken off long journeys\nbetween the space of two flashes of light; had the gift of clairvoyance;\nand put out all the candles by his very presence--his powers depending, as\nsuch powers generally do, on darkness and confusion for their perfect\ndevelopment. Lord Torphichen soon left off the use of the horsewhip, and\nhe and all the family came to the conclusion that the Honourable Patrick\nwas bewitched. So they got hold of the witch, a brutish, ignorant,\nhalf-witted woman living in the village of Calder, and put her in prison,\nwaiting her confession. As for that, it was not difficult to get at. Yes,\nshe was a witch; had been a witch for many years; had once given the devil\nher own dead child to make a roast of; had made an image of the young\nlaird; and had three associates, two women and a man. Mad William\nMitchell, the Tinklarian Doctor,[77] as he was called, went on foot in ill\nweather without food from the West Bow to Lord Torphichen's house at\nCalder, to see what he could do towards discovering the devil in the\nwitches. This was on the 14th of January--the day of the solemn fast,\nwhich was all the help that the awakening reason of the times would allow\nthe Honourable Patrick Sandilands. True, the witch and her confederates\nwere in prison, but there was no gallows planted, and no fire set: only\nthe ministers, and elders, and saints, and people, convened in solemn and\nsacred prayer, to beseech God to drive out the devil from a lying,\nmischievous, hysterical lad. But crazy William Mitchell took very little\nby this move, Lord Torphichen not favouring his pretensions to special and\nprivate illumination. The sermon was preached in the Calder Kirk by the\nRev. Mr. John Wilkie, minister of Uphall, the sorcerers being present, and\nwas found so powerful that the devil was fairly exorcised, and the boy\nsoon after wholly recovered. In time he went to sea, rose to the command\nof an East Indiaman, but perished in a storm, leaving a meritorious name\nsingularly stained with boyish sins. \"It brings us strangely near to this\nwild-looking affair,\" says Chambers, \"that the present Lord Torphichen\n(1860) is only _nephew_ to the witch-boy of Calder.\"\n\n\nTHE LAST OF THE WITCHES.\n\nAnd now we draw near to the close of this fatal superstition. In 1726,\nWoodrow notes \"some pretty odd accounts of witches,\" had from a couple of\nRoss-shire men, but fails to give us very accurate details, save only that\none of them at her death \"confessed that they had, by sorcery, taken away\nthe sight of one of the eyes of an Episcopal minister, who lost the sight\nof his eye upon a sudden, and could give no reason for it.\" And early in\nthe year of 1727[78] the last witch-fire was kindled with which the air of\nbonnie Scotland was polluted. Two poor Highland women, a mother and\ndaughter, were brought before Captain David Ross of Littledean,\ndeputy-sheriff of Sutherland, charged with witchcraft and consorting with\nthe devil. The mother was accused of having used her daughter as her\n\"horse and hattock,\" causing her to be shod by the devil, so that she was\never after lame in both hands and feet; and the fact being satisfactorily\nproved, and Captain David Ross being well assured of the same, the poor\nold woman was put into a tar-barrel and burned at Dornoch in the bright\nmonth of June. \"And it is said that after being brought out to execution,\nthe weather proving very severe, she sat composedly warming herself by the\nfire prepared to consume her, while the other instruments of death were\ngetting ready.\" The daughter escaped: afterwards she married and had a son\nwho was as lame as herself; and lame in the same manner too; though it\ndoes not seem that he was ever shod by the devil and witch-ridden. \"And\nthis son,\" says Sir Walter Scott, in 1830, \"was living so lately as to\nreceive the charity of the present Marchioness of Stafford, Countess of\nSutherland in her own right.\"\n\nThis, then, is the last execution for witchcraft in Scotland; and in June,\n1736, the Acts Anentis Witchcraft were formally repealed. Henceforth, to\nthe dread of the timid, and the anger of the pious, the English\nParliament distinctly opposed the express letter of the Law of God, \"Thou\nshalt not suffer a witch to live;\" and declared the text upon which so\nmuch critical absurdity had been talked, and in support of which so much\ninnocent blood had been shed, vain, superstitious, impossible, and\ncontrary to that human reason which is the highest law of God hitherto\nrevealed unto men. But if Parliament could stay executions it could not\nremove beliefs, nor give rationality in place of folly. Not more than\nsixty years ago an old woman named Elizabeth M'Whirter[79] was \"scratched\"\nby one Eaglesham, in the parish of Colmonel, Ayrshire, because his son had\nfallen sick, and the neighbours said he was bewitched. Poor old Bessie\nM'Whirter was forced over the hills to the young man's house, a distance\nof three miles, and there made to kneel by his bedside and repeat the\nLord's Prayer. When she had finished, the youth's father took a rusty nail\nand scratched the poor old creature's brow in the form of a cross;\nscratched it so effectually that it was many weeks in healing, and the\nscar remained to the last day of her life. If Elizabeth M'Whirter had\nlived a generation earlier, she might have run a race with death and a tar\nbarrel, and been defeated at the end, like the poor old wretch at Dornoch.\n\nBut still the old faith lingers in those beautiful vales, and hides in the\nfastnesses of the mountain glens; still brownies haunt the ruined places,\nand witches send forth blight and bale at their will; still the elfin\npeople ride on the whirlwind and dance in the moonlight; and the hill and\nthe flood and the brae and the streamlet have their attendant spirits\nwhich vie with the churchyard ghost in impotent malevolence to men. And\nthe gift of second sight, though dying out because of these degenerate\ntimes of utilitarianism and power-loom weaving, is yet to be found where\nthe old blood runs thickest, and the old ideas are least disturbed; and\nstill the whole nation clings with spasmodic force to its gloomy creed of\nthe Predestined and the Elect, and holds by the early faith from whose\nnarrow bounds others have emerged into a brighter and a wider path. No\nmore witch-fires are now lighted on the Castle Hill; no more grave and\nreverend divines give themselves up, like Mr. John Aird, to discovering\nthe devil's mark stamped visibly on human flesh; yet the heart of the\npeople has not abandoned its ancient God, and though the altars may be\ndressed with the flowers of another season, and the name upon the plinth\nbe carved in other characters, yet is the indwelling idol the same. The\nGod which Calvinistic Scotland yet worships is the same God as that to\nwhich the witches and wizards of old were sacrificed; he is the God of\nSuperstition, the God of Condemnation, in whose temple Nature has no\nplace, and Humanity no rights.\n\n\n\n\nThe Witches of England.\n\n\n\"Every old woman with a wrinkled face, a furr'd brow, a hairy lip, a\ngobber tooth, a squint eye, a squeaking voice, or a scolding tongue,\nhaving a ragged coate on her back, a skull-cap on her head, a spindle in\nher hand, and a Dog or Cat by her side, is not only suspected but\npronounced for a witch,\" says John Gaule;[80] while Reginald Scot[81] puts\nforth as his experience:--\"One sort of such as are said to be witches, are\nwomen which be commonly old, lame, blear-eyed, pale, fowle, and full of\nwrinckles; poor, sullen, superstitious, and Papists; or such as know no\nreligion; in whose drousie minds the devill hath gotten a fine seat; so\nas, what mischief, mischance, calamity or slaughter is brought to passe,\nthey are easily perswaded the same is done by themselves; imprinting in\ntheir minds an earnest and constant imagination thereof. They are leane\nand deformed, showing melancholy in their faces, to the horror of all that\nsee them. They are doting, scolds, mad, devilish; and not much differing\nfrom them that are thought to be possessed with spirits, so firm and\nsteadfast in their opinions, as whosoever shall only have respect to the\nconstancy of their words uttered, would easily believe they were true\nindeed.\" Dr. Harsnet, in his \"Declaration of Popish Impostures,\" gives the\nsubject a masterly touch of common sense and satire:--\"These things,\"\nsaith he, \"are raked together out of old doating Heathen Histriographers,\nWizzardizing Augurs, Imposturizing Soothsayers, Dreaming Poets, Chimerical\nConceiters, and Coiners of Fables, &c. Out of these is shap'd the true\nIdea of a _Witch_, an old weather-beaten Crone, having her Chin and Knees\nmeeting for Age, walking like a Bow leaning on a Staff, Hollow-Ey'd,\nUntooth'd, Furrow'd on her Face, having her Lips trembling with the Palsy,\ngoing mumbling in the Streets: One that hath forgotten her Pater Noster,\nand yet hath a shrewd Tongue to call a Drab a Drab. If she hath learn'd of\nan old Wife in a Chimney End Pax, Max, Fax, for a Spell; or can say Sir\nJohn Grantham's Curse for the Miller's Eels, All ye that have stolen the\nMiller's Eels, laudate Dominum de Coelis: And all they that have\nconsented thereto, Benedicamus Domino: Why then beware, look about you, my\nNeighbours. If any of you have a Sheep sick of the Giddies, or a Stag of\nthe Mumps, or a Horse of the Staggers, or a Knavish Boy of the School, or\nan idle Girl of the Wheel, or a young Drab of the Sullens, and hath not\nFat enough for her Porrage, or Butter enough for her Bread, and she hath a\nlittle Help of the Epilepsy or Cramp, to teach her to roll her Eyes, wry\nher Mouth, gnash her Teeth, startle with her Body, hold her Arms and Hands\nstiff, &c. And then with an old Mother Nobs hath by Chance call'd her Idle\nyoung Housewife, or bid the Devil scratch her; then no doubt but Mother\nNobs is the Witch, and the young Girl is Owl-blasted, &c.\" Then he goes on\nto say, with more force and right judgment than one could have expected\nfrom one of his generation:--\"They that have their Brains baited, and\ntheir Fancies distemper'd with the Imaginations, and Apprehensions of\nWitches, Conjurers, and Fairies, and all that Lymphatical Chimaera, I find\nto be marshall'd in one of these five Ranks: Children, Fools, Women,\nCowards, sick or black melancholick discompos'd Wits.\"\n\nThese then are the sentiments of three somewhat wise and sane men, who\nlived in a time of universal madness, and gave their minds to the task of\nstemming the raging torrent. For the whole world was overrun with witches.\nFrom every town came crowds of these lost and damned souls; from every\nhovel peered out the cursing witch, or cried aloud for help the stricken\nvictims. These poor and old and wretched beings, upon whose heads lighted\nthe wrath of a world, and against whom every idle lad had a curse and a\nstone to fling at his will, were held capable of all but omnipotence. They\ncould destroy the babe in the womb and make the \"mother of many children\nchildless among women;\" they could kill with a look and disable with a\ncurse; bring storms or sunshine as they listed; by their \"witch-ropes,\"\nartfully woven, draw to themselves all the profit of their neighbours'\nbarns and breweries; yet ever remained poor and miserable, glad to beg a\nmouthful of meat, or a can of sour milk from the hands of those whom they\ncould ruin by half a dozen muttered words; they could take on themselves\nwhat shapes they would, and transport themselves whither they would: no\nbolt or bar kept them out, no distance by land or sea was too great for\nthem to accomplish; a straw--a broomstick--the serviceable imp ever at\nhand--was enough for them; and with a pot of magic ointment, and a charm\nof spoken gibberish, they might visit the king on his throne, or the lady\nin her bower, to do what ill was in their hearts against them, or to\ngather to themselves what gain and store they would. Yet with all this\npower the superstitious world of the time saw nothing doubtful or\nillogical in the fact of their exceeding poverty, and never stayed to\nthink that if they could transport themselves through the air to any\ndistance they chose, they would be but slippery holding in prison, and not\nvery likely to remain there for the pleasure of being tortured and burnt\nat the end. But neither reason nor logic had anything to do with the\nmatter. The whole thing rested on fear, and that practical atheism of\nfear, which denies the power of God and the wholesome beauty of Nature, to\nexalt in their stead the supremacy of the Devil. This belief in the\nDevil's material presence and power over men was the dark chain that bound\nthem all. Even the boldest opponent of the Witchcraft Delusion dared not\nfling it off; not the bravest man or freest thinker could shake his mind\nclear of this terrible trammel, this bugbear, this mere phantasm of human\nfear and ignorance, this ghastly lie and morbid delusion, or abandon the\nslavish worship of Satan for the glad freedom of God and Nature. It was\nmuch when such men as Scot,[82] and Giffard,[83] and Gaule of\nStaughton,[84] Sir Robert Filmer,[85] Ady,[86] Wagstaffe,[87] Webster,[88]\nHutchinson,[89] and half a dozen more shining lights could bring\nthemselves to deny the supernatural power of a few half-crazed old\nbeggar-women, and plead for humanity and mercy towards them, instead of\ncruelty and condemnation; but not one dare take the wider step beyond, and\ndeny the existence of that phantom fiend, belief in whom wrought all this\nmisery and despair. Even the very best of the time gave in to this\ndelusion, and discussed gravely the properties and proportions of what we\nknow now were mere lies.\n\n\"We find the illustrious author of the 'Novum Organum' sacrificing to\ncourtly suppleness his philosophic truth, and gravely prescribing the\ningredients for a witch's ointment;--Selden maintaining that crimes of the\nimagination may be punished with death;--The detector of Vulgar Errors,\nand the most humane of physicians giving the casting vote to the\nvacillating bigotry of Sir Matthew Hale;--Hobbes, ever sceptical,\npenetrating, and sagacious, yet here paralyzed and shrinking from the\nsubject, as if afraid to touch it;--The adventurous explorer, who sounded\nthe depths and channels of the 'Intellectual System' along all the\n'wide-watered' shores of antiquity, running after witches to hear them\nrecite the Common Prayer and the Creed, as a rational test of guilt or\ninnocence;--The gentle spirit of Dr. Henry More, girding on the armour of\npersecution, and rousing itself from a Platonic reverie on the Divine Life\nto assume the hood and cloak of a familiar of the Inquisition;--and the\npatient and inquiring Boyle, putting aside for a while his searches for\nthe grand Magisterium, and listening, as if spell-bound, with gratified\nattention to stories of witches at Oxford and devils at Mascon.\"[90] In\nthe Church and amongst the more notoriously \"religious\" men of the time\nit was worse. In Archbishop Cranmer's 'Articles of Visitation' (1549) is\nthis clause:--\"You shall enquire whether you know of any that use Charms,\nSorcery, Enchantments, Soothsaying, or any like Craft invented by the\nDevil;\" and Bishop Jewel, preaching before Queen Elizabeth (1558),\ninformed her how that \"witches and sorcerers within these last few years\nare marvellously increased in your Grace's realm. Your Grace's subjects\npine away even unto their death, their colour fadeth, their flesh rotteth,\ntheir speech is benumbed, their senses are bereft; I pray God they never\npractise further than upon the subject.... These eyes have seen most\nevident and manifest marks of their wickedness.\" At the next Parliament\nthe new Bill against the detestable sin of witchcraft was passed, and\nStrype says, partly on account of the Lord Bishop's earnest objurgation.\nDalton's[91] 'Country Justice' (1655) shows to what a pass, a century\nlater, witchcraft had come in credulous England. Truly Scot was right\nwhen he said that his greatest adversaries were \"young ignorance and old\ncustoms.\" They have always been the greatest adversaries of all truth. Of\nlate, thank God, the march of humanity has been steadily, if slowly,\ntowards the daylight; but at present you and I, my reader, have to do with\nthe most debasing superstition that ever afflicted history, in the matter\nof those poor wretched servants of the devil--those witches and wizards,\nwho somehow managed to lose on all sides--to suffer in time and be ruined\nfor eternity, and to get only ill-will and ill-usage from man and fiend\nalike.\n\n\nTHE WITCH OF BERKELEY.\n\nOne of our earliest English witches, so early indeed that she becomes\nmythical and misty and out of all possible proportion, was the celebrated\nWitch of Berkeley,[92] who got the reward of her sins in the middle of the\nninth century, leaving behind her a tremendous lesson, by which, however,\nafter generations did not much profit. The witch had been rich and the\nwitch had been gay, but the moment of reckoning had to come in the\nmorning; the feast had been noble and well enjoyed, but the terrible\naccount had to be paid when all was over; and the poor witch found her\nruddy-cheeked apple, now that the rind was off and eaten, filled with\nnothing but dust and ashes--which she must digest as best she may. As the\nmoment of her death approached, she called for the monks and the nuns of\nthe neighbouring monasteries, and sent for her children to hear her\nconfession; and then she told them of the compact she had made, and how\nthe Devil was to come for her body as well as her soul. \"But,\" said she,\n\"sew me in the hide of a stag, then place me in a stone coffin, and fasten\nin the covering lead and iron. Upon this place another stone, and chain\nthe whole down with heavy chains of iron. Let fifty psalms be sung each\nnight, and fifty masses be said by day, to break the power of the demons.\nIf you can thus keep my body for three nights safe, on the fourth day you\nmay bury it--the Devil will have sought and not found.\" The monks and the\nnuns did as they were desired; and, on the first night, though the demons\nkept up a loud howling and wailing outside the church, the priests\nconquered, and the old witch slept undisturbed. On the second night the\ndemons were more fierce and clamorous, and the monks and the nuns told\ntheir beads faster and faster; but the fiends were getting more powerful\nas time went on, and at last broke open the gates of the monastery, in\nspite of prayer and bolt and bar; and two chains of the coffin burst\nasunder, but the middle one held firm. On the third night the fiends raged\nsore and wild. The monastery was shaken to its foundations, and the monks\nand the nuns almost forgot their paters and their aves in the uproar that\ndrowned their voices and quailed their hearts; but they still went on,\nuntil, with an awful crash, and a yell from all the smaller demons about,\na Devil, larger and more terrible than any that had come yet, stalked into\nthe church and up to the foot of the altar, where the old woman and her\ncoffin lay. Here he stopped, and bade the witch rise and follow him.\nPiteously she answered that she could not--she was kept down by the chain\nin the middle: but the Devil soon settled that difficulty; for he put his\nfoot to the coffin, and broke the iron chain like a bit of burnt thread.\nThen off flew the covering of lead and iron, and there lay the witch, pale\nand horrible to see. Slowly she uprose, blue, dead, stark, as she was; and\nthen the Devil took her by the hand, and led her to the door where stood a\ngigantic black horse, whose back was all studded with iron spikes, and\nwhose nostrils, breathing fire, told of his infernal manger below. The\nDevil vaulted into the saddle, flung the witch on before him, and off and\naway they rode--the yells of the clamouring demons, and the shrieks of the\ntortured soul, sounding for hours, far and wide, in the ears of the monks\nand the nuns. So here too, in this legend, as in all the rest, the Devil\nis greater than God, and prayer and penitence inefficacious to redeem\niniquity.\n\n\nEARLY HISTORIC TRIALS.\n\nComing out from these purely legendary times, we find ourselves on the\nmore solid ground of an actual legal record--the 'Abbreviatio\nPlacitorum;'[93] which informs us that in the tenth year of King John's\nreign, \"Agnes, the wife of Odo the merchant, accused Gideon of sorcery (de\nsorceria), and she was acquitted by the judgment of the (hot) iron.\" This\nis the earliest historic trial to be found in any legal document in\nEngland. Nothing more appears until 1324, when two Coventry men,[94]\nspecially appointed out of twenty-seven implicated, undertook the slaying\nof the King, Edward II., the two Dispensers his favourites, the Prior of\nCoventry, his caterer and his steward, because they had oppressed the\ntown, and dealt unrighteously with its inhabitants. These two men went to\na famous necromancer then living in Coventry, called Master John of\nNottingham, whom, with his servant Robert Marshall of Leicester, they\nengaged to perform the work required. But Robert Marshall proved\nfaithless, and betrayed his master to the authorities; telling them how\nthey had received a sum of money for the work in hand, with which sum of\nmoney they had bought seven pounds of wax and two yards of canvas, to make\nseven images--six for the six already enumerated, the seventh for one\nRichard de Lowe, who had done no one any harm, but on whom they wished to\ntry the effect of the spell, as a modern anatomist would try his\nexperiments on cats, or dogs, or rabbits. He told them how he and Master\nJohn of Nottingham had been to a ruined house under Shorteley Park, about\nhalf a league from Coventry, where they remained at work from the Monday\nafter the Feast of Saint Nicholas to the Saturday after the Feast of\nAscension, making these images of wax and canvas by which they were to\nbewitch their noble enemies to death. And first, to try the potency of the\ncharm, Master John took a long leaden pin, and struck it two inches deep\ninto the forehead of the image representing Richard de Lowe, upon which\nRichard was found writhing and in great pain, screaming \"harrow!\" and\nhaving no knowledge of any man; and so he languished for some days. Then\nMaster John drew out the leaden pin from the brow, and struck it into the\nheart of the image, when immediately Richard de Lowe died, as any number\nof witnesses could testify. The necromancer and his man, and the\ntwenty-seven Coventry men implicated in this bit of sorcery, were tried\nat common law, and acquitted for want of evidence.\n\nThat same year, too, occurred one of the most picturesque trials for\nwitchcraft known: the trial of Dame Alice Kyteler, which Mr. Wright, with\nso much industry and learning, has exhumed from the dusty old records\nwhere it was buried, and set out into the light of present knowledge and\napprehension. But Dame Alice was an Irishwoman, and so does not rightly\ncome into a book on English witches; else it would be a pleasant, if sad,\nlabour to tell how she was arrested on the charge of holding nightly\nconferences with her spirit or familiar, Artisson, who was sometimes a\ncat, and sometimes a black shaggy dog, and sometimes a black man with two\ntall black companions, each carrying an iron rod in his hand--to which\nfiendish Proteus she had sacrificed, in the highway, nine red cocks, and\nnine peacocks' eyes; and also for having, between complines and twilight,\nraked all the filth of Kilkenny streets to the doors of her son-in-law\nWilliam Outlawe, murmuring to herself--\n\n  \"To the house of William, my sonne,\n  Hie all the wealth of Kilkennie towne.\"\n\nOf how, too, she blasphemously travestied the holy sacrament, having a\nwafer with the Devil's name stamped on it instead of Christ's; and how she\nhad a pipe of ointment wherewith she greased a staff \"upon which she\nambolled and gallopped thorough thicke and thin, when and what manner she\nlisted.\" But it does not belong to my present subject: nor to tell how one\nof her accomplices, poor weak Petronilla de Meath, was burnt at Kilkenny,\nnot having strength or courage to resist the monstrous confession forced\nupon her; but how the other, Basil, escaped, according to the natural law\nby which the strongest always come off the best. Perhaps the fact that\nDame Alice took refuge in England may give her a slight claim to a place\nin these pages; but the question is doubtful, so we must let her go--as\nalso her son-in-law, William Outlawe, whose strict imprisonment of nine\nweeks led to no bad result, and, let us hope, cooled his blood, which was\na trifle too near to boiling point.\n\nThen we stumble over the threshold of the chamber where Friars Bacon and\nBungay are sleeping, while stupid Miles is watching the Brazen Head whose\nbrief solemn words were spoken in vain; going forward just a few paces\nuntil we come to the death-beds of Bungay and Vandermast, and Friar\nBacon's clever cheating of the Devil at last. But we are still on the\noutskirts of legendary land, and must go on to the middle of the\nfourteenth century before we get a firm hold. About this time the subject\nof witchcraft occupied much of the attention and thought of the Church,\nbut the priests had not yet quite closed their fingers round it; for in\n1371 a man was arrested for sorcery, and \"brought before the justices of\nthe King's Bench, by whom he was acquitted for want of evidence, which\nshows that it was still looked upon merely as an offence against common\nlaw.\"[95] It was only when it became the superstition which some men are\npleased to call \"religion\" that it got stained with its deepest dyes.\nEarly in 1406 Henry IV. gave instructions to the Bishop of Norwich to\nsearch for the sorcerers, witches, and necromancers reported to be rather\nrife in that respectable diocese, and if he could not convert them from\nthe evil of their ways, he was to bring them to speedy punishment; and in\n1432 the Privy Council ordered to be seized and examined a Franciscan\nfriar of Worcester, by name Thomas Northfield; another friar, John\nAshwell; John Virley \"a clerk;\" and Margery Jourdemaine--the same Margery\ngenerally called the Witch of Eye, who, nine years later, was burnt at\nSmithfield for her complicity in the treasonable practices of Dame Eleanor\nof Gloucester. In 1441 Dame Eleanor herself was arrested, and \"put in\nholt, for she was suspecte of treason;\" and with her the Witch of Eye, who\nwas burnt; and Roger, a clerk \"longing to her,\" who was placed on a high\nscaffold against St. Paul's Cross on the Sunday, and there \"arraied like\nas he should never thrive in his garnementys;\" while heaped up round about\nwere all his instruments taken with him, to be showed among the people,\nand create a proper fear and horror in their mind. The end of poor Roger\nthe clerk was, that he was dragged from the Tower to Tyburn, there hanged,\nbeheaded, and quartered; his head set on London Bridge, and his four\nquarters sent--one to Hereford, and one to Oxenford, another to York, and\nthe fourth to Cambrigge. As for Dame Eleanor, that proud, dark,\nunscrupulous heroine of romance, every one knows the story of her disgrace\nand shame; how she came from London to Westminster, and walked through the\nstreets of the city barefooted and bareheaded, carrying the waxen taper of\ntwo pounds' weight, and doing penance before all the crowd of citizens\nassembled to see her \"on her foot and hoodles;\" and how she offered up her\ntaper on the high altar of \"Poules;\" and when all was done, was sent to\nChester prison, \"there to byde while she lyveth.\"\n\nAfter her, in 1478, comes \"the high and noble princesse Jaquet,\" Duchess\nof Bedford, charged with having, by the aid of \"an image of lede, made\nlyke a man of arms, conteyning the length of a mannes fynger, and broken\nin the myddes, and made fast with a wyre,\" turned the love of King Edward\nIV. from one Dame Elianor Butteler daughter of the old Earl of Shrewsbury,\nto whom he was affianced, unto her own child, Elizabeth Grey, sometime\nwife to Sir John Grey, knight; and in 1483 poor Jane Shore was bound to do\npenance, walking bareheaded and barefooted, clad only in her kirtle,\ncarrying a wax taper, and acknowledging her sins, because Richard of\nGloucester had a withered arm, and wanted to put a few enemies out of the\nway of that arm and its desires. He employed the same accusation against\nmany of those enemies, but so patently for political motives and without\neven the semblance of reason, that these attainders can scarcely be set\ndown in any manner to the charge of witchcraft. Then in 1484 came the bull\nof Innocent VIII., which gave authority to the inquisitors to \"convict,\nimprison, and punish\" the unfortunate servants of the Devil, who thus\nfound themselves a mark for every one's shaft.\n\nIn Henry the Eighth's time treasure-seeking was the most fashionable phase\nof necromancy. There was Neville of Wolsey's household, who consulted\nWood--gentleman, magician, and treasure-seeker extraordinary--but only for\na charm or magic ring which should bring him into favour with his prince,\nsaying that his master the Cardinal had such an one, and he would fain\nparticipate; and he did at last get Wood to make him one that would bring\nhim the love of women. Wood could find treasures wherever hidden, and was\nsure of the philosopher's stone; nay, he would \"chebard\" (jeopard) his\nlife but that he could make gold as he listed, and offered to remain in\nprison till he had accomplished it, \"twelve months on silver and twelve\nand a half on gold.\" In this same reign, too, was arrested William\nStapleton for sorcery. William[96] was a monk of St. Benet in the Holm,\nNorfolk, and William loved not his monkish life; so he got out, seeking\nmoney to buy his dispensation. And not having the money at hand himself,\nnor knowing how to get it, he took to treasure-seeking as the easiest\nmanner open to him of making a fortune. But his conjurations and his magic\nstaff only led him to some Roman remains, and nothing more; so he borrowed\nof a friend instead, then settled in Norfolk, and turned to\ntreasure-seeking again, uselessly; got into intrigues that did him no\ngood; and had three spirits, Andrea Malchus, Inchubus, and Oberion--the\nlast a dumb devil who would not speak, being in the service of my Lord\nCardinal.\n\nIn 1521 the Duke of Buckingham died on the scaffold, led into some\nimprudent actions by the predictions of his familiar magician, one friar\nHopkins; and Hopkins, to make amends, died broken-hearted shortly after.\nAnd there was the Maid of Kent (1534), Elizabeth Barton, who had trances\nand gave revelations, and was on intimate terms with Mary Magdalen and the\nVirgin, and who was probably a \"sensitive\" made use of by the Catholics to\ntry and frighten the King from his marriage with the \"gospel eyes;\" but\npoor Elizabeth Barton came to a sad pass with her revelations and trances;\nand Mary Magdalen, who had given her a letter written in heaven and all of\ngold, forgot to forewarn or shield her from her cruel and shameful end at\nTyburn that cloudy fitful day of April, with the gallows standing out\nagainst the flecked sky, and the poor raving nun, half-enthusiast\nhalf-impostor, praying bareheaded at its foot--she and her accomplices\nwaiting for the moment to die.\n\nIn 1541 we find a nobler name on the scaffold--Lord Hungerford--\"beheaded\nfor procuring certain persons to conspire that they might know how long\nHenry VIII. would live;\" and that same year an Act was passed against\nfalse prophecies, and another against conjurations, witchcraft, and\nsorcery, making it felony without benefit of clergy. But six years later\nEdward VI. abrogated that statute; not for any tenderness to witches, but\nbecause with it was bound up a prohibition against pulling down crosses.\nIn 1549 Ket's rebellion was troublesome; its vigour due partly to the old\nprophecy repeated through the plains of Norfolk--\n\n  \"Hob, Dic, and Hic, with Clubs and clouted Shoon,\n  Shall fill up Duffin-dale with slaughtered Bodies soon.\"\n\nAnd then we come to nothing more until 1559, when Elizabeth \"renewed the\nsame article of inquiry for sorcerers,\" but punishing the first conviction\nonly with the pillory. The following year eight men were taken up for\nconjurations and sorcery, and tried at Westminster, where they had to\npurge themselves by confession, penitence, and a repudiating oath. In 1562\nthe Earl and Countess of Lennox, Anthony Pool, Anthony Fortescue, and some\nothers, were condemned for treason and meddling with sorcerers; though,\nindeed, Elizabeth herself was not free from either the superstition or its\npractice; for did she not patronize Dr. Dee and his \"skryer\" John Kelly,\nwith his ranting about Madimi in her gown of \"changeable sey,\" and all the\nother spirits who came in and out of the \"show-stone,\" and talked just the\nsame kind of rubbish as spirits talk now in modern circles? But the poor\n\"figure-flinger, with his tin pictures,\" was a sorcerer not to be\nprotected, so got tried and condemned--poor figure-flinger!\n\nIn 1562, the year of Lady Lennox's business, a new Act against witchcraft\nwas passed; and in 1589 one Mrs. Deir practised conjuration against the\nQueen, for which she was tried, but acquitted for want of evidence; but\nthe Queen had excessive anguish in her teeth that year, by night and by\nday. When Ferdinand Earl of Derby died, about this time, of perpetual and\nunceasing sickness, a waxen image was found in his chamber stuffed with\nhair the exact colour of his; which sufficiently accounted for his illness\nand the mysterious manner of his death, though a Sadducee and sceptic\nmight have whispered of poison, or a physician have spoken of cholera;\nfrom which disease indeed, by the minute symptoms so carefully detailed,\nthe poor earl's death seems to have been--if not from poison, which might\nhave produced the same effects. Still, the accusation of sorcery was so\nconvenient--such a cloak for viler sins! The latter half of Elizabeth's\nreign was disgraced by many witch persecutions, for the subject was\nbeginning to attract painful notice now; and, though it was not till James\nI. had set the smouldering fragments all a-blaze that the worst of the\nevils were done, still enough was doing now for the philosopher to deplore\nand the humanitarian to lament. In 1575 many were hanged at Barking; in\n1579 three were executed at Chelmsford, four at Abingdon, and two at\nCambridge. In 1582 thirteen at St. Osith's, the evidence against one being\nthat she had been heard to talk to something when alone in her house;\nwhile of the other, a woman swore that she looked through her window one\nday, when she was out, and there \"espied a spirite to looke out of a\npotcharde from under a clothe, the nose thereof being browne like unto a\nferret.\" In 1585 one was hanged at Tyburn and one at Stanmore; 1589 saw\nthree sent into eternity at Chelmsford; in 1593 we have the witches of\nWarbois; and two years later (1595) three at Barnet and Brainford; in 1597\nseveral at Derby and Stafford; so that by degrees the thing came to be a\nnotorious matter of social life; and the poor and the aged and the\ndisliked lived in fear and peril, daily increasing. At this time, too,\npossessions were many and ghosts walked abroad without let or hindrance.\nRichard Lee saw one at Canterbury (1575), and Master Gaymore and others\nsaw another at Rye two years after. \"But,\" says Reginald Scot, \"certainely\nsome one knave in a white sheet hath cosened and abused many thousands\nthat way, specially when Robin Goodfellow kept such a coile in the\nCountry. For you shall understand that these bugs specially are spied and\nfeared of sicke folke, children, women, and cowards, which, through\nweaknesse of minde and body, are shaken with vain dreames and continuall\nfear. The Scythians, being a stout and a warlike nation, as divers writers\nreport, never see any vaine sights, or spirits. It is a common saying, a\nLion feareth no bugs. But in our childhood our mothers' maids have so\nterrified us with an ugly devil having hornes on his head, fire in his\nmouth, and a taile at his back, eyes like a bason, fanges like a dog,\nclawes like a beare, a skinne like a Niger, and a voice roring like a\nLion, whereby we start and are afraid when we hear one cry Bough; they\nhave so fraied us with bullbeggars, spirits, urchens, elves, hags,\nfairies, satyrs, pans, fauns, sylens (syrens?), kit with the cansticke,\ntritons, centaures, dwarfes, giants, imps, calcats, conjurors, nymphes,\nchangelings, incubus, Robin Goodfellow, the spoorn, the mare, the man in\nthe oke, the hell-waine, the firedrake, the puckle, Tom thombe,\nhob-gobbin, Tom tumbler, boneles, and such other bugs, that we are afraid\nof our own shadowes; insomuch as some never fear the devil, but in a dark\nnight; and then a polled sheep is a perillous beast, and many times is\ntaken for our father's soul, specially in a churchyard, where a right\nhardy man heretofore scant durst passe by night, but his haire would stand\nupright. For right grave writers report, that spirits most often and\nspecially take the shape of women, appearing to monks, &c., and of beasts,\ndogs, swine, horses, goats, cats, haires, of fowles, as crowes, night\nowles and shreek owles; but they delight most in the likenesse of snakes\nand dragons.\" All of which \"wretched and cowardly infidelity\" was rampant\nin England when good Queen Bess ruled the land--rampant doubly, so that\nthere was no holding in of this furious madness after James I. had got his\nfoot in the stirrup, and was riding a race neck and neck with the Devil.\nBut I must turn back a few years, and tell of\n\n\nTHE AFFLICTIONS OF ALEXANDER NYNDGE,\n\na precious babe of grace snatched from destruction. They are to be found\nin 'A Booke declaring the fearfull vexation of one Alexander Nyndge,\nBeynge moste Horriblye tormented wyth an euyll spirit, the xx. daie of\nJanuarie. In the yere of our Lorde 1573, at Lyeringswell in Suffolke;' and\nthis book sets forth the details of the various fits which Alexander\nNyndge indulged in, for the purpose, as it seems, of enabling his brother\nEdward to prove his power of exorcism. His first fit began one evening at\nseven--his father, mother, brothers, and the residue of the household\nbeing present; his chest and body swelled, his eyes stared wildly as if\nstarting from their sockets, his back bent inward: the household was\ndisturbed and sore affrighted, but brother Edward had courage enough to\nsay that it was an evil spirit, and undertook to exorcise it. So he\ncharged the foul fiend to come out of him, and the countenance of his\nbrother became more sad and fearful than it was before. Edward was not\ndismayed but returned to the conflict full of confidence, not giving in\neven when Alexander and the devil had a wrestle together; or rather when\nthe devil within him seemed as if he would have torn him to pieces, so\ngreat was his rage and malice. After some time of this kind of work,\nEdward got the devil to confess to one or two little matters. In the first\nplace his name was Aubon, and he came last from Ireland; he had come for\nAlexander's soul, which his brother was not disposed to give up; and by a\nstrange slip of the tongue he called Christ _his_ Redeemer: but Edward\nrebuked him, as became a learned M.A., reminding him that He was\nAlexander's Redeemer in truth, but not his, the foul fiend's. Even this\npalpable blunder did not enlighten the Nyndge household as to whose was\nreally the \"hollow ghostly\" voice proceeding out of Alexander's chest. At\nlast, when Edward had tired him very much, and powerfully shaken him, he\nsaid, gruffly, \"Bawe wawe, bawe wawe!\" and Alexander was transformed,\n\"much like a picture in a play,\" while a terrible roaring voice sounded\n\"Hellsownd.\" Then they opened the windows to allow the foul spirit to\nescape; and in two minutes Alexander leaped up joyfully, crying, \"He is\ngone! he is gone!\" After this he had a second, and then a third, attack;\nbut his brother, praying in his right ear, comforted him and finally cured\nhim, for he was never after tormented. Luckily he had not fixed upon any\nunhappy old woman as the cause of his disorder, so it passed for a case of\nsimple \"possession,\" which prayer and supplication had overcome.\n\n\nADE DAVIE'S MOURNING.[97]\n\nAde Davie, wife of Simon Davie husbandman, had a wiser man for her\nhusband, simple and unlearned as he was, than had many a wretched creature\nfor her judge. Ade suddenly became sad and pensive as she never had been\nin times past. Her husband did his best to cheer her, but Ade still\ncontinued sorrowful; when, at last her burden grew heavier than she could\nbear, falling down at Simon's feet she besought him to forgive her, for\nthat she had grievously offended both God and him. \"Her poor husband being\nabashed at this her behaviour, comforted her as he could; asking her the\ncause of her trouble and greefe; who told him that she had, contrary to\nGod's law, and to the offence of all good Christians, to the injury of\nhim, and specially to the losse of her own soul, bargained and given her\nsoul to the devill, to be delivered unto him within short space. Whereunto\nher husband answered, saying, 'Wife, be of good cheer, this thy bargain is\nvoid and of none effect; for thou hast sold that which is none of thine to\nsell: sith it belongeth to Christ, who hath bought it, and dearly paid for\nit, even with his blood, which he shed upon the crosse; so as the devil\nhath no interest in thee.' After this, with like submission, teares, and\npenitence, she said unto him, 'Oh, husband, I have yet committed another\nfault, and done you more injury; for I have bewitched you and four\nchildren.' 'Be content,' quoth he, 'by the grace of God, Jesus Christ can\nunwitch us; for none evill can happen to them that fear God.'\"\n\nThis fresh and pure idyl comes to us with a sweet and wholesome savour, in\nthe midst of the foul quagmires of superstition where it stands; and that\npoor husbandman's simple faith in God's goodness and his wife's virtue is\nmore touching than many a grand heroic deed which has the suffrages of all\nhistory to float it through the life of the world. Simon Davie was an\nunlettered man, but he was strong-hearted and believing, and, thinking\nthat earnest prayer might comfort his wife, when the time approached for\nthe Devil to come and close his bargain, knelt down by her and prayed, she\njoining with him fervently. Then they heard a low rumbling noise below\nwhich made the windows shake, and which convinced the poor wife that it\nwas the Devil trying to take possession of her soul, but barred out from\nthe chamber by the fervent prayers aforesaid. In the morning it was found\nthat the noise came from a dog which had devoured a sheep that was newly\nflayed and hung against the wall; and in due time, Ade Davie recovering\nher reason--for she was crazed, and took every fire to be the fire lighted\nto burn her for witchcraft--came to the knowledge that she had never sold\nher soul to the Devil at all, and had never bewitched husband or children,\nbut had always been a faithful wife and fond mother--afflicted with a\nlight brain and nervous imagination.\n\n\nTHE POSSESSION OF MILDRED NORRINGTON.[98]\n\nMildred, the \"base daughter\" of Alice Norrington, being seventeen years of\nage, was likewise possessed of the Devil, in much the same way as\nAlexander Nyndge had been. She lived as servant with William Spooner of\nWestwell, in the county of Kent, and her case attracted great attention.\nAll the divines of the neighbourhood assembled at Spooner's house on the\n13th of October, 1574, to endeavour to cast out the Devil by such means of\nprayer and exorcism as they had at their command. Powerfully did they\npray; mightily roared the Devil; \"And tho' we did command him many times,\nin the Name of God, and of his Son Jesus Christ, and in his mighty Power\nto speak, yet he would not, until he had gone through all his Delays, as\nroaring, crying, striving, and gnashing of teeth, and otherwise, with\nmowing and other terrible Countenances, and was so strong in the Maid that\nfour men could scarce hold her down.\" This continued for about two hours,\nand then he spoke out, but very strangely, crying, \"He comes, he comes,\"\nand \"He goes, he goes.\" When charged to tell the exorcists who had sent\nhim, he said, \"I lay in her way like a Log, and I made her run like Fire;\nbut I could not hurt her.\" \"And why so?\" said we. \"Because God kept her,\"\nsaid he. When asked when he came to her, he said, \"At night, in her bed.\"\nAnd when charged to tell them his name, he said, \"The Devil, the Devil.\"\nBut being still more powerfully exhorted, he roared and cried as before,\nand spake terrible words: \"I will kill her; I will kill her; I will tear\nher in pieces; I will kill you all!\" Asked again, and conjured so that he\ncould not escape, he was forced to confess that his name was Satan, and\nLittle Devil, and Partner, and that old Alice had sent him--old Alice in\nWestwell Street, with whom he had lived these twenty years shut up in two\nbottles. \"Where be they?\" said we. \"In the back side of her house,\" said\nhe. \"In what place?\" said we. \"Under the wall,\" said he. The other was at\nKennington, in the ground. Then we asked him what old Alice had given him.\nHe said, \"Her will, her will.\" \"What did she bid thee do?\" said we. \"Kill\nher maid,\" he said, because she did not love her. He then said that he had\nbeen to the vicarage loft in the likeness of two birds, and that old Alice\nhad sent him and his servant (another devil) to kill those whom she loved\nnot. \"How many hast thou killed for her?\" said we. \"Three,\" said he. \"Who\nare they?\" said we. \"A man and his child,\" said he. \"What were their\nnames?\" said we. \"The child's name was Edward,\" said he. \"What more than\nEdward?\" said we. \"Edward Ager,\" said he. \"What more?\" said we. \"Richard\nAger,\" said he. \"Where dwelt the man and the child?\" said we. \"At Dig, at\nDig,\" said he. This Richard Ager was a gentleman of forty pounds' land by\nthe year; a very honest man, but would often say he was bewitched, and\nlanguished long ere he died. The Devil--or Mildred for him--said that he\nhad also killed Wotton's wife, and that he used to fetch old Alice meat\nand drink and corn, and that he had been at many houses (named) doing her\nwicked will. Then he was adjured so that he could not resist, when he\ncried out that he would go, he would go, and so he departed. Then said the\nmaid, \"He is gone. Lord have mercy on me! for he would have killed me!\" So\nthose ministers and neighbours present all kneeled down and thanked God\nfor Mildred's deliverance; and she kept her countenance, and did not\nbetray herself. But a short time after, the \"bruit of her divinity and\nmiraculous trances\" spreading far and wide, Mr. Thomas Wotton, \"a man of\ngreat Worship and Wisdom, and for deciding and ordering of Matters, of\nrare and singular Dexterity,\" got to the true understanding of the case,\nwhen \"the Fraud was found, and the cozenage confessed, and she received\ncondign Punishment.\" After her trial, and when she knew the worst, she\n\"showed her Feats, Illusions, and Trances, with the Residue of all her\nmiraculous Works in the Presence of divers Gentlemen of great Worship and\nCredit at Boston-Malherb, in the House of the said Mr. Wotton.\" \"Now\ncompare this wench with the witch of Endor, and you shall see that both\nthe cozenages may be done by one art,\" says Reginald Scot.\n\n\nMISCELLANEOUS.\n\nIt was in this same year that Agnes Brigs and Rachel Pindar had to do\npenance at St. Paul's Cross, in London,[99] having been convicted of cheat\nand imposture in pretending to vomit pins and straws and old \"clouts,\" and\nother such impossibilities; and for counterfeiting possession by the\nDevil, which the philosophers of the time thought was no subject to trifle\nwith, or affect in any manner whatsoever. And then, a few years later, a\nyoung Dutchman living at Maidstone was dispossessed of ten devils, and the\nmayor of the town got to subscribe his name to the account, which turned\nout afterwards to be nothing but fraud and lies. In 1579[100] four\nwitches were hung up together, the chief accusation against one of them,\nMother Still, being, \"that she did kill one Saddocke with a touch on the\nshoulder, for not keeping promise with her for an old cloak, to make her a\nsafeguard; and that she was hanged for her labour:\" and another, Ellein\nSmith, was executed at Maldon,[101] on the testimony of her little son of\neight, who accused her of having three spirits--Great Dick in a wicker\nbottle, Little Dick in a leathern bottle, and Willet kept in a woolpack.\nUpon which the house was commanded to be searched, and \"the bottles and\npacke were found, but the spirites were banished awaie.\"\n\nAt the Rochester assizes, held 1591, Margaret Simons,[102] the wife of\nJohn Simons, of Brenchley in Kent, was arraigned for witchcraft, on the\ncharge of bewitching the son of John Ferrall the vicar. An ill-conditioned\nyoung cub was he, and prentice to Robert Scotchford, clothier; and the\nfather himself seems to have been little better than his son--making a bad\npair between them for the teacher and \"pattern child\" of Brenchley. There\nhad long been ill blood between Mr. John Ferrall, vicar, and Margaret\nSimons; and one day it came somewhat to a head; for, when the boy was\npassing Margaret's house on his way home, her little dog jumped out at him\nand barked. \"Which thing the boy taking in evil part,\" says Reginald\nScot, in his quaint, blunt, incisive way, \"drew his knife, and pursued him\ntherewith even to her door; whom she rebuked with some such words as the\nboy disclaimed, and yet neverthelesse would not be perswaded to depart in\na long time.\" The consequence of the fray was, that the boy in five or six\ndays' time fell dangerously ill. Then the vicar, \"who thought himself so\nprivileged as he little mistrusted that God would visit his children with\nsicknesse,\" declared that his son was bewitched by Margaret Simons, who\nalso had done the like evil to himself; for whenever he wished to read the\nservice with special emphasis and care his voice always failed him, so\nthat his congregation could scarce hear him at all. Margaret made answer\nthat his voice was always hoarse and low, and particularly when he\nstrained himself to speak loudest then it ever failed him: but there was\nno witchcraft in the case, for all that Mr. Ferrall had procured the\nhealth of his son at the hands of another witch, who had taken off the\ncharm and effected a perfect cure. Margaret had a very narrow escape for\nher life. The whole of the jury, save one man, were against her, but she\nhad in her favour the fact that the vicar was very unpopular, and, justly\nor unjustly, lay under some odious charges; so, what with the sane\njuryman's exertions in her favour, and Mr. Ferrall's small hold on the\ninterest and affections of his parishioners, she was brought in Not\nGuilty, and the hangman's cord fell slack from his greedy grasp.\n\nIt must have been somewhere about this time that the execution mentioned\nby Dr. More in his 'Antidote to Atheism' took place, when a mother and\ndaughter were hanged at Cambridge for witchcraft and service to the\nDevil. When the mother was called on to renounce and forsake her old\nmaster, she refused to do so, saying that he had been faithful to her for\nfourscore years, and she would not be faithless now to him. And in that\nobstinacy she died, with a courage and constancy worthy a better cause.\nThe daughter was of a contrary mind. She avowed her misdeeds, and asked\nfor pardon and grace, was penitent, and faithful, and earnest in prayer.\nAll of which the Devil took, as may be imagined, very heinously; and\nshowed his displeasure by sending, in the midst of a dead calm, so sudden\nand violent a blast of wind, that the mother's body was driven sharply\nagainst the ladder, and was like to have overturned it, while the gallows\nshook with such force that the men standing round were fain to hold the\nposts, for fear of all being flung to the ground. It was somewhat before\nthis, that at Town Malling, in Kent, one of Queen Mary's Justices, \"on the\ncomplaint of many wise men, and a few foolish boyes, laid an archer by the\nheels because he shot so near the white at buts. For he was informed and\nperswaded that the poor man played with a fly, otherwise called a devill\nor familiar. And because he was certified that the archer aforesaid shot\nbetter than the common shooting, which he before had heard of or seen, he\nconceived it could not be in God's name, but by inchantment, whereby the\narcher (as he supposed, by abusing the Queen's liege people) gained some\none day two or three shillings, to the detriment of the commonwealth, and\nto his owne inriching. And therefore the archer was severely punished, to\nthe great encouragement of archers, and to the wise example of justice,\nbut specially to the overthrow of witchcraft.\" Which quaint little\nanecdote of Scot's is worth a whole handful of jewels more richly set.\n\nWe are coming now to one of the most curious of the older trials, that\nof--\n\n\nTHE WITCHES OF S. OSEES,\n\nheld before Brian Darcey. It is contained in a rare and beautiful little\nblack-letter book,[103] and is spoken of by Scot in his 'Discovery'\nwithout much sparing of ridicule. It opens thus: \"If there hath bin at\nanytime (Right Honorable) any meanes used to appease the wrath of God, to\nobtaine his blessing, to terrifie secreete offenders by open transgressors\npunishments, to withdraw honest natures from the corruption of euill\ncompany, to diminish the great multitude of wicked people, to increase the\nsmall number of virtuous persons, and to reforme all the detestable abuses\nwhich the peruerse witte and will of man doth dayly devise, this\ndoubtlesse is no lesse necessarye than the best, that Sorcerers,\nWizzardes, or rather Dizzardes, Witches, Wise women (for so they will be\nnamed), are rygorously punished. Rygorously? sayd I; why it is too milde\nand gentle a tearme for such a mercilesse generation: I should rather have\nsayd most cruelly execueted; for that no punishment can be thought vpon,\nbe it in neuer so high a degree of torment, which may be deemed sufficient\nfor such a deuilishe and damnable practise.\" These were the sentiments of\nW. W., as propounded to his patron \"the right honourable and his singular\ngood lorde, the Lord Darcey,\" to whom he inscribes his little book. For\nBrian Darcy, evidently a relation, had lately put in practice the views\nand opinions of a worthy citizen and zealous Christian touching witches,\nat the great holocaust offered up at \"S. Osees\" (St. Osyth), in the 23rd\nyear of Queen Elizabeth's reign (1582): and witch hatred therefore ran in\nthe blood.\n\nThe first complainant in this process was Grace Thurlowe, wife of John\nThurlowe, who came to make her moan about the evil practices of her\nneighbour, Ursley Kempe, alias Grey. About twelve months since, said\nGrace, her son Davy was strangely taken and greatly tormented. Ursley\ncame, like the rest of the neighbours, to see him; but, unlike the rest,\nshe thrice took the child by the hand, saying each time, \"A good childe,\nhowe are thou loden:\" going out of the house and returning between each\nphrase, which was evidently a charm, and no holy way of pitying a sick\nchild. After this she said to Grace, \"I warrant thee, I, thy childe shall\ndoe well enough;\" and sure it was so, for that night the child slept well,\nand after another such cantrip visit from Ursula, mended entirely. This\nwas not much to complain to the magistrates about, but Grace had another\nand more grievous count. After this evident cure of her son she was\ndelivered of a woman child, and, ungratefully enough, asked not Ursley to\nbe her nurse; whereat sprang up a quarrel, and the child in consequence\nfell out of the cradle and brake its neck; not because it was clumsily\nlaid, or carelessly rocked, but because Ursley was a witch and had a\ngrievance against Grace. And to this mischance, when she heard of it, all\nthat the old dame said, was, \"It maketh no matter; for she might have\nsuffered me to have the keeping and nursing of it.\" Then a trouble and a\n\"fratch\" ensued, and Ursley threatened Grace with lameness, whereat Grace\nanswered, \"Take heed, Ursley, thou hast a naughtie name;\" but in spite of\nher warning the old witch did her work, so that Grace was taken with such\nlameness that she had to go upon her hands and knees. And thus it\ncontinued; whenever she began to amend her child fell ill, and when her\nchild was well she was cast down lame and helpless.\n\nThen Annis Letherdall had her word. Annis and Ursley had a little matter\nof commerce between them, but Annis failed the suspected woman, \"knowing\nher to be a naughtie beast.\" So Ursley in revenge bewitched Annis's child,\nand that so severely that Mother Ratcliffe, a skilful woman, doubted if\nshe could do it any good; yet for all that she ministered unto it kindly.\nAnd, as a proof that it was Ursley, and only Ursley, who had so harmed the\nbabe, and that its sad state came in no wise from bad food, bad nursing,\nand filthy habits, the little creature of only one year old, when it was\ncarried past her house, cried \"wo, wo,\" and pointed with its finger\nwindowwards. What evidence could be stronger? So then, to clinch the\nmatter and strike fairly home, the magistrate examined Thomas Rabbet,\nUrsley's \"base son,\" a child of barely eight years of age, and got his\nversion of the mother's life. The little fellow's testimony went chiefly\non the imps at home. His mother had four, he said--Tyffin, like a white\nlamb; Titty, a little grey cat; Pygine, a black toad; and Jacke, a black\ncat; and she fed them, at times with wholesome milk and bread, and at\ntimes they sucked blood from her body. He further said that his mother had\nbewitched Johnson and his wife to death, and that she had given her imps\nto Godmother Newman, who put them into an earthen pot which she hid under\nher apron, and so carried them away. One Laurence then said that she had\nbewitched his wife, so that when \"she lay a drawing home, and continued so\na day and a night, all the partes of her body were colde like a dead\ncreatures, and yet at her mouth did appeare her breath to goe and come.\"\nThus she lingered, said her husband, until Ursley came in unbidden, turned\ndown the bed-clothes, and took her by the arm, when immediately she gasped\nand died. Ursley at first would confess nothing beyond having had, ten or\neleven years ago, a lameness in her bones, for the cure of which she went\nto Cook's wife of Wesley, who told her that she was bewitched, and taught\nher a charm by which she might unwitch herself and cure her bones; which\ncharm quite answered its purpose, and had never failed her with her\nneighbours; all else she denied. But upon Brian Darcy[104] \"promising to\nthe saide Ursley that if she would deale plainely and confesse the truth\nthat she should have fauour, so by giving her faire speeche she confessed\nas followeth.\" \"Bursting out with weeping\" and falling on her knees, she\nsaid, yes, she had the four imps her son had told of, and that two of\nthem, Titty and Jack, were \"hees,\" whose office was to punish and kill\nunto death; and two, Tiffin and Piggin, were \"shees,\" who punished with\nlameness and bodily harm only, and destroyed goods and cattle. And she\nconfessed that she had killed all the folk charged against her; her\nbrother-in-law's wife, and Grace Thurlowe's cradled child, making it to\nfall out of its cradle and break its neck solely by her enchantments; and\nthat she had bewitched that little babe of Annis Letherdall's, and\nLaurence's wife, and, in fact, that she had done all the mischief with\nwhich she was charged. Then, not liking to be alone, she said that Mother\nBennet had two imps; the one a black dog, called Suckin, the other red\nlike a lion, Lyerd: and that Hunt's wife had a spirit too, for one evening\nshe peeped in at her window when she was from home, and saw it look out\nfrom a potcharde from under a bundle of cloth, and that it had a brown\nnose like a ferret. And she told other lies of her neighbours, saying that\nher spirit Tiffin informed her of all these things; and Brian Darcy sat\nthere, gloating over these maniacal revelations. But in spite of his soft\nwords and fair promises, Ursley Kempe was condemned, and executed when her\nturn came.\n\nJoan Pechey, widow, was then brought forward; and Ales Hunt, herself an\naccused witch, deposed against her that she was angry because, at a\ndistribution of bread made by the said Brian Darcy, she had gotten a loaf\nwhich was too hard baked for her; whereat in a pet she said it might have\nbeen given to some one younger, and not to her, with no teeth to eat\nthrough the crust. And then Ales watched her home, and saw her go in alone\nto her own house where no human soul was; but there she heard her say, as\nto some one, \"Yea, are you so sawsie; are yee so bolde; you were not best\nto bee so bolde with mee: For if you will not bee ruled, you shall have\nSymonds sawse; yea, saide the saide Joan, I perceive if I doe give you an\ninch you will take an ell.\" All of which talk Ales Hunt found was to no\nChristian creature, but to her foul and wicked imps. The which testimony\nher sister, Margerie Sammon, confirmed, saying that old Joan was as clever\nas their own mother (a noted witch, one Mother Barnes), or any one else\nin S. Osees skilled in sorcery and magic. Another examinate then came\nforward with a story of a bewitched cow unbewitched by a fire lighted\naround it: which, however, does not apparently touch any of the accused.\nAnd then the accuser, Ales Hunt, was made to take the place of the\naccused, and listen to the catalogue of her own sins. The chief witness\nagainst her was her little daughter-in-law (step-child?) Febey, of the age\nof eight or thereabouts, who deposed to her having two little things like\nhorses, the one white the other black, which she kept by her bedside in a\nlittle low earthern pot with wool, colour white and black, and which she\nfed with milk out of a black \"trening\" dish. When the Commissioners went\nto search the place they found indeed the board which Phoebe said was\nused to cover them, and she pointed out the trening dish whence they were\nfed; but the little things like horses were gone; when Phoebe said they\nhad been sent to Hayward of Frowicke. After a time Alice Hunt was brought\nto confess not only to two, but four, imps; two like colts, black and\nwhite, called Jack and Robbin; and two like toads, Tom and Robbyn. Mother\nBarnes, her mother, gave them to her, she said, when she died; and she\ngave her sister, Margerie Sammon, two also. When Margerie was confronted\nwith Alice and heard what she had deposed, she got very angry and denied\nthe whole tale, saying: \"I defie thee, though thou art my sister,\" saying\nthat she had never any imps given to her on her mother's death-bed, or at\nany other time. But Alice took her aside and whispered something in her\near; after which Margerie, \"with great submission\" and many tears,\nconfessed that she had in truth these two imps, given to her by her mother\nas her sister had said, and that she had carried them away that same\nevening in a wicker basket filled with black and white wool. Her mother\nhad said that if she did not like to keep them old Joan Pechey would be\nglad of them; but she did not part with them just then; and that she was\nto feed them on bread and milk, otherwise they would suck her blood. Their\nnames were Tom and Robbin, and last evening she took them away--being\nperhaps afraid to keep them longer, now that the scent was warm--and went\ninto Read's ground, where she bade them \"go.\" Immediately they skipped out\nof the wicker basket toward a barred gate going into Howe Lane, to Mother\nPeachey's house, whereat she, Margerie, said, \"All evill goe with you, and\nthe Lorde in heaven blesse mee from yee.\"\n\nAll of which Mother Peachy, who seems to have been an upright,\nhigh-spirited old dame, stoutly denied. She was threescore year and\nupwards, she said, and had lived forty years in S. Osees in honour and\ngood repute. She knew Mother Barnes, yet knew her for no witch, nor ever\nheard her to be so accompted, or to have skill in any witchery; nor was\nshe at her death-bed; nor knew she of her imps. For her own part she\ndenied that she had any \"puppettes, spyrites, or maumettes;\" or had had\nany spirits conveyed to her by Margery Sammon, or since Mother Barnes's\ndeath. She denied all that Ales Hunt had said, as, \"Yea, art thou so\nbolde,\" &c., she denied that she had had any hand in Johnson's death, as\nshe had been accused of, but when he died said only he was a very honest\nman: she also denied some very shocking passages with her son, which he,\nhowever, had been brought to confess; and when questioned more closely\nconcerning her imps, said that she had only a kitten and a dog at home.\nWhen asked of what colour were they? she answered tartly, \"Ye may goe and\nsee.\"\n\nAles Newman was also condemned and executed; being obstinate to the last;\ndenying the four counts with which she was charged, viz. her imps, the\nslaughter of her own husband, of John Johnson, and of his wife. But\nWilliam Hoke deposed that on his death-bed her husband had been\nperpetually crying out against her, saying, \"Dost thou not see--dost thou\nnot see?\" meaning the imp with which she tormented him, and which he\nstrove vainly to beat away. Seeing her obstinacy, Brian Darcy told her\nthat he would sever her and her spirits asunder; to which she answered\nquickly, \"Nay,\" sayth shee, \"that shal ye not, for I will carry them with\nmee.\" Then seeing that they took note of her words, she added, \"if I have\nany.\" The admission was enough, and she was hanged.\n\nElizabeth Bennet denied that she had had any hand in the bewitching to\ndeath Johnson or his wife, saying that the aforesaid Ales had done it all.\nBut William Bonner had his stone ready for her on the other side, accusing\nher of bewitching his wife, for \"shee, being sickely and sore troubled,\nthe said Elizabeth vsed speeches unto her, saying, a goode woman howe art\nthou loden, and then clasped her in her armes and kissed her. Wherevpon\npresently after her vpper Lippe swelled and was very bigge, and her eyes\nmuch sunked into her head, and shee hath lain sithence in a very strange\ncase.\" Yet these two women were familiar friends, and \"did accompanie much\ntogether;\" which shows that friendship was as dangerous as enmity in those\nmad times when the swelling of a lip, or the familiarity of a house pet,\ncould bring the best of a district to the gallows. And then Ursley Kemp's\ntestimony was remembered against Elizabeth, and the mysteries of Suckin\nand Liard sought to be fathomed. Elizabeth at the first was obdurate and\nwould confess to nothing beyond that she had certainly a pot, but no wool\ntherein, and no imps to lay on it; but at last she too was persuaded by\nBrian Darcy's fine false words; so falling on her knees, \"distilling\ntears,\" she made her public moan. William Byet and she dwelt as neighbours\ntogether, she said, living as neighbours should, well and easily; but\nlatterly they had fallen out, because William called her \"old Trot\" and\n\"old witch,\" and \"did ban and curse her and her cattle.\" So she replied\nwith calling him \"knave,\" saying, \"Wind it vp Byet, for it will light vpon\nyourself.\" And Byet's beast died forthwith. Then Byet's wife beat her\nswine with great \"gybels,\" and made them sick; and once she ran a\npitchfork through the side of one so that it was dead, and when the\nbutcher who bought it came to dress and cut it up, it proved \"a messel,\"\nso she had no money for it, for the butcher would not keep it and she was\nforced to take it back again. So far was only the ordinary quarrelling of\nill-tempered country folk, and nothing very damaging to confess to; but\nnow Brian Darcy's fair words drew from her all about her imp Suckin, a he\nand like a black dog, and Lierd, a she and like a hare or a lion, and red.\nSuckin had first come to her a long time ago, as she was returning home\nfrom the mill; he held her by the coats, she being amazed, but vanished\nwhen she prayed. Again, when nigh hand at home, he tugged at her coats as\nbefore, yet vanished when she prayed. The next day he came with Lierd, and\nasked \"why she was so snappish yesterday?\" and thus they were for ever\ntroubling and visiting her, till at last she yielded to their\nsolicitations, and set them to the work she was accused of. This was the\nsecond instance in which Brian Darcy found that old Ursley and her imp\nTiffin had spoken the truth.\n\nAles Manfielde bewitched John Sayer's cart, keeping it standing stock\nstill for above an hour, because she was offended that he would not let\nhis thatcher cover in an oven for her; and she lamed all Joan Chester's\ncattle, because Joan refused her some curds. So Ales Manfielde was\ncondemned and executed; but not before she made her confession. She said\nthat Margaret Greuell (Greville), twelve years since, gave her four\nimps--Robin, Jack, William, and Puppet or Mamet: they were like black\ncats, two shes and two hes, and were put into a box with some wool, and\nplaced on a shelf by her bed. But Margaret denied it all, even when Ales\nwas confronted with her; denied too that queer tale of how she had\nbewitched John Carter's two brewings, so that half a seame had to go to\nthe swill tub, all because he would not give her Godesgood. The brewing\nwas only unbewitched when John's son, a tall lusty man of thirty-six,\nmanaged to stick his arrow in the brewing-vat. He had shot twice before,\nbut missed, though he was a good shot and stood close to the vat--which\nwas evident sorcery, somehow. Margaret denied also that she had bewitched\nNicholas Strickland's wife so that she could make no butter, because\nNicholas, who was a butcher, refused her a neck of mutton. But in spite of\nall her denials, she, the hale woman of fifty-four, was condemned to\nremain in prison, heaven knows for how long; escaping the gallows by a\ngreater miracle than any recorded of herself.\n\nElizabeth Ewstace, a year younger than Margaret Greville, was told that\nshe had bewitched Robert Sanneuer, drawing his mouth all awry so that it\ncould be got into its place again only with a sharp blow; and that she\nhad killed his brother Crosse, three years ago, and bewitched his wife\nwhen with child and quite lusty and well, so that she had a most strange\nsickness, and the child died soon after its birth; that she made his cows\ngive blood instead of milk; and caused his hogs \"to skip and leap about\nthe yarde in a straunge sorte,\" because of the small bickerings to which\nS. Osees seemed specially subject. And she hurt all Felice Okey's geese,\nand in particular her favourite goose, because she, Felice, had turned\nhers out of her yard; all of which Elizabeth Eustace denied to the face of\nAlice Mansfield and her other accusers. And as, on being searched, she was\nfound to have no \"bigges\" or witch marks, she was mercifully kept in\nprison--for the time. And Annis Glascocke, wife of John the sawyer, got\ninto the trouble that had its end only in the hangman's cord, because\nMychel the shoemaker charged her with being a \"naughtie woman,\" and\nbecause Ursley Kemp, informed by Tiffin, accused her of sundry things\nabout as true as all the rest of the story. Being found well supplied with\nwitch marks, her denial was not allowed to go for much; whereupon she\nabused Ursley, and said she had bewitched her and made her like to\nherself, she, Annis Glascocke, all the time ignorant and innocent of her\ndevilish arts.\n\nThen came the sad story of Henry Celles (Selles) and his wife Cysley. They\nwere said to have killed Richard Ross's horses, because Richard had\nrefused Cicely a bushel of malt which she had come for, bringing a poke to\nput it in. And to make the accusation stronger, little Henry their son,\nonly nine years old, affirmed that at Candlemas last past about midnight\nthere came to his brother John a spirit, which took him by the left leg\nand also by the little toe, and which was like his little sister, only\nthat it was black. At which his brother cried out, \"'Father, father, come\nhelpe me; there is a black thing that hath me by the legge as big as my\nsister;' whereat his father saide to his mother, 'Why thou ----, cannot\nyou keepe your imps from my children?' Whereat she presently called it\naway from her sonne, saying, 'Come away, come away.' At which speeche it\ndid depart.\" He further said that his mother fed her imps daily with milk\nout of a black dish; that their names were Hercules, Sotheons, or Jacke\nwhich was black and a he, and Mercurie, white and a she; that their eyes\nwere like goose eyes; and that they lay on some wool under a stack of\nbroom at the old crab-tree root. And also that his mother had sent\nHercules to Ross for revenge; at which his father, when he heard of it,\nsaid, \"She was a trim fool.\" As she very likely was; but for other things\nthan sending imps to her neighbours. John, a little fellow of six and\nthree-quarters, confirmed his brother's deposition, adding to it that \"the\nimps had eyes as big as himself,\" and that his mother fed them with thin\nmilk out of a spoon. He gave the names of other people whom his mother had\nbewitched, and he showed his scarred leg, and the nail of the little toe\nstill imperfect. And Joan Smith deposed that one day, as she was making\nready to go to church, holding her babe in her arms, her mother, one\nRedworth's wife, and Cicely were all at her door, ready to draw the latch\nas she came out, \"whereat the grandmother to the childe tooke it by the\nhand, and shoke it, saying, 'A mother pugs, art thou coming to church?'\nand Redworth's wife, looking on it, said, 'Here is a iolie and likely\nchilde--God blesse it.' After which speeches, Selles his wife saide,\n'shee hath neuer the more children for that, but a little babe to play\nwithall for a time.' And she saith within a short time after her said\nchilde sickened and died. 'But,' she saith\"--her womanly heart carrying it\nover her superstition--\"'that her conscience will not serve her to charge\nthe said Cysley or her husband to be the causers of any suche matter, but\nprayeth God to forgive if they haue dealt in any such sorte.'\" Then Thomas\nDeath accused Cicely Selles and one Barker's wife of bewitching George\nBattell's wife and his own daughter Mary, who got such good of the witches\nby a wise man's ministering that she saw her tormentor standing in bodily\nshape before her; and Ales Baxter was pricked to the heart by a white imp\nlike a cat which then vanished into the bushes close by, and so badly\nholden that she could neither go nor stand nor speak, and did not know her\nown master when he came by, but was forced to be taken home in a chair by\ntwo men. All of which Henry Selles and his wife Cicely denied; specially\nthe story of the imp and the children, who, if there were imps at all in\nthe matter, were the only imps afloat. But denial did them no good, for\nCicely had witch marks, so was condemned, and the two little lying varlets\nmade themselves orphans and homeless.\n\nA very crowd of witnesses came to testify against Annis Herd. Of some she\nhad bewitched the cream, of others the milk; of some the cows or pigs or\nwives; but all this was mere floating accusation until the Commissioners\ngot hold of her little \"base\" daughter of seven, who gave them plenty of\ninformation. Asked if her mother had imps, she said \"Yes;\" in one box she\nhad six \"auices,\" or blackbirds, and in another box six like cows as big\nas rats, with short horns, lying in the boxes on white or black wool. And\nshe said that her mother gave her one of the cow imps, a black and white\none, called Crowe; and to her little brother one, red and white, called\nDonne; and that she fed the avices or blackbirds with wheat and barley and\noats and bread and cheese; giving to the cows wheat straw, bean straw, oat\nstraw, or hay, with water or beer to drink. When her brother sees these\nblackbird imps come a \"tuitting and tetling\" about him, added the little\nbase daughter, he takes and puts them in the boxes. Some of them sucked on\nher mother's hands, and some on her brother's legs, and when they showed\nher the marks she pointed them out one by one, saying, \"Here sucked aves\nand here blackbird.\" She was sharp enough though to shield herself, young\nas she was; for when asked why one of her hands had the same kind of mark,\nshe said it was burnt. Anis Herd was kept in prison, but not hanged just\nthen, for she could not, luckily for her, be got to confess to anything\nvery damaging. She said that she was certainly angry with the churl\nCartwright for taking away a bough which she had laid over a flow in the\nhighway, but she had not bewitched him or his; and that she had, truly,\nkept Lane's wife's dish fourteen days or more, as Lane's wife had said,\nand that Lane's wife had sent for the twopence which she, Anis, owed her,\nand that she had grumbled with her--also with this neighbour and that\nneighbour, according to the habits of S. Osees--but that she had bewitched\nnone of them. And she denied the avices and the blackbirds and all and\nsundry of the stories of Crow or Dun; which, indeed, with some others\nspoken of by the children, seem to have been, _if existing at all_, toys\nor treasures kept hoarded from them, to which they added these magical and\nabsurd conditions as their imaginations taught them or their examiners\nprompted.\n\nJoan Robinson, another S. Osees witch, was to blame for various acts of\nsorcery and witchcraft--hurting one woman's brood goose, and another's\nlitter of pigs, drowning cows, laming ambling mares, and the rest of the\nwitch's playful practices; all of which she, too, denied strenuously, but\nnevertheless formed one of the thirteen victims whom the offended justice\nof the times found necessary to condemn and execute. So this sad trial\ncame to an end, and Brian Darcy covered his name with infamy so long as\nW. W. has a black letter copy extant.\n\nThe following singular table is drawn up at the end of the book:--\n\n     \"The names of XIII Witches and those that have been bewitched by\n     them.\n\n     The Names of those persons that have beene bewitched and thereof haue\n     dyed, and by whome, and of them that haue receyved bodyly harme, &c.\n     As appeareth vpon sundrye Enformations, Examinations, and Confessions\n     taken by the worshipfull Bryan Darcey, Esquire; and by him certified\n     at large vnto the Queene's Maiestie's Justices of Assise of the\n     Countie of Essex, the XXIX of Marche, 1582.\n\n     S. Osythes.      The Witches. }           {Kempes wife,\n                   1. Ursley Kempe,} bewitched {Thorlowes Childe,\n                       alias Gray  } to death  {and Strettons wife.\n\n                   2. Ales Newman  }\n                       and Ursley  } bewitched {Letherdalles childe,\n                       Kempe       } to death  {and Strettons wife.\n\n     Confessed by}    The said Ales}\n       Ursley and}     and Ursley  } bewitched {Strattons Childe,}whereof\n       Elizabeth.}     Kempe       }           {Grace Thorlowe,  }they did\n                                                                 }languish.\n\n                                               {William Byet, and Joan his\n                   3. Elizabeth    } bewitched { wife, and iii of his\n                       Bennet      } to death  { beasts.\n                                               {The wife of William Willes,\n                                               {  and William Wittingalle.\n\n                      Elizabeth    }           {William Bonners Wife, John\n                       Bennet      } bewitched { Butler, Fortunes Childe;\n                                               { whereof they did languish.\n\n                      Ales Newman  } bewitched {John Johnson and his Wife,\n                                   }to death   { and her own Husband, as it\n                                               { is thought.\n\n     Confessed   } 4. Ales Hunt    } bewitched {Rebecca Durrant and vi\n     the cattell.}                 } to death  { beasts of one Haywardes.\n\n                   5. Cysley Celles} bewitched { Thomas Deaths Childe.\n                                   } to death  {\n\n     Little      }    Cysley Celles  bewitched {Rosses Mayde, Mary Death,\n     Clapton.    }                             { whereof they did languish.\n\n                      Cysley Celles} bewitched Richard Rosses horse and\n                           and     }  beasts and caused their Impes to\n     Thorpe.       6. Ales         }  burne a barne with much corne.\n                       Manfielde   }\n\n     Confessed by} 7. Ales         } bewitched {Robert Chesson, and\n     Ales        }     Manfielde   } to death  { Greuell husband to\n     Manfield.   }     and Margaret}           { Margaret.\n                       Greuell     }\n\n                      Ales         } bewitched the widdow Chesson, and her\n                       Manfielde   }  husband, v beasts and one bullocke,\n                       and Margaret}  and seuerall brewinges of beere, and\n                       Greuell     }  batches of bread.\n\n     Thorpe.       8. Elizabeth    } bewitched {Robert Stannevettes Childe,\n                       Ewstace     } to death  { and Thomas Crosse.\n\n                      Elizabeth    } bewitched Robert Stanneuet, vii milch\n                       Ewstace     }  beasts, w{h} gaue blood in steede of\n                                      milke, and seuerall of his Swine\n                                      dyed.\n\n     Little Okley. 9. Annys Herd   } bewitched {Richard Harrisons wife, and\n                                   } to death  { two wives of William\n                                               { Dowsinge, as it is\n                                               { supposed.\n\n                      Annys Herd   } bewitched Cartwright two beasts,\n                                   }  made, sheepe, and lambes xx; West\n                                   }  swine, and pigs; Diborne, a brewing\n                                   }  of beere, and seuerall other losses\n                                   }  of milke and creame.\n\n     Walton.      10. Joan Robinson} bewitched beasts, horses, swine, and\n                                   }  pigs, of seuerall men.\n\n     \"The sayd Ursley Kemp had foure spyrites, viz., their names Tettey a\n     hee like a gray Cat, Jack a hee like a black Cat, Pygin a she like a\n     black Toad, and Tyffin a she like a white Lambe. The hees were to\n     plague to death, and the shees to punish with bodily harme, and to\n     destroy cattell.\n\n     \"Tyffyn, Ursley's white Spirit, did tell her alwayes (when she asked)\n     what the other witches had done: and by her the most part were\n     appelled, which spirit telled her alwayes true. As is well approved\n     by the other Witches confession.\n\n     \"The sayd Ales Newman had the sayd Ursley Kemps spirits to vse at her\n     pleasure. Elizabeth Bennet had two spirits, viz., their names Suckyn,\n     a hee like a blacke Dog: and Lyard, red lyke a Lyon or Hare.\n\n     \"Ales Hunt had two spirits lyke Colts, the one blacke, the other\n     white.\n\n     \"11. Margery Sammon had two spirits lyke Toads, their Names Tom and\n     Robyn.\n\n     \"Cysley Celles had two spirits by seuerall names, viz., Sotheons,\n     Hercules, Jack, or Mercury.\n\n     \"Ales Manfield and Margaret Greuell had in common by agreement, iiii\n     Spirits, viz., their names Robin, Jack, Will, Puppet, alias Mamet,\n     whereof two were hees, and two were shees, lyke vnto black Cats.\n\n     \"Elizabeth Ewstace had iii Impes or Spirits of colour white, grey,\n     and black.\n\n     \"Annis Herd had vi Impes or Spirites, like auises and black byrdes,\n     and vi other like Kine, of the bygnes of Rats, with short hornes; the\n     Auises shee fed with wheat, barley, otes, and bread, the Kine with\n     straw and hay.\n\n        Annys Glascocke.  } These have not confessed any thing touching\n        12. Joan Pechey.  }   the hauing of spirits.\n        13. Joan Robinson.}\n\n        Annis Glascocke   } bewitched  { Mychell Steuens Childe.\n                          } to death   { The base Childe at Pages.\n                                       {William Pages Childe.\n\n\nThus did W. W. and Bryan Darcey finish their respective works, in which,\nperhaps, this formal tabular statement, this pretence at scientific\narrangement and accuracy, is the strangest and most revolting\nelement.[105]\n\nAnother rare and curious[106] black-letter pamphlet gives a marvellous\naccount of a woman's possession, as it happened in Somersetshire; which\nperchance we of the light-minded and sceptical nineteenth century might\ninterpret differently to what the believing sixteenth held likely.\n\n\nTHE WOMAN AND THE BEAR.\n\nOne Stephen Cooper, of Ditchet, a yeoman of honest reputation, good\nwealth, and well beloved by his neighbours, being sick and weak, sent his\nwife Margaret to a farm of his at Rockington, Gloucestershire, where she\nremained a few days--not finding all to her liking, she said. When she\nreturned she found her husband somewhat better, but she herself was\nstrange and wild, using much idle talk to him concerning an old groat\nwhich her little son had found and which she wanted to see, and raving\nabout the farm in Gloucestershire, as if she had been bewitched, and knew\nnot what she said. Then she began to change in very face, and to look on\nher husband with \"a sad and staring countenance;\" and, one night, things\ncame to a climax, for she got very wild and bad, and shook so frightfully\nthat they could scarce keep her down in the bed; and then she began\ntalking of a headless bear, which, she said, she had been into the town to\nbeat away during the time of her fit, and which had followed her from\nRockington: as the sequel proved was true. Her friends and husband\nexhorted her to prayer and patience, but she still continued marvellously\nholden, the Devil getting quite the better of her until Sunday night, when\nshe seemed to come to her worst. Suddenly the candle, which they had not\nbeen noticing, went out, and she set up a lamentable cry; they lighted\nanother, but it burnt so dim it was almost useless, and the friends and\nneighbours themselves began to be disquieted. Wildly and hurriedly cried\nMargaret, \"Look! do you not see the Devil?\" herself all terrified and\ndisturbed. They bade her be still and pray. Then said Margaret, \"Well, if\nyou see nothing now, you shall see something by and bye;\" and \"forthwith\nthey heard a noise in the streete, as it had been the coming of two or\nthree carts, and presently they in the chamber cried out, 'Lord helpe us,\nwhat manner of thing is this that commeth here!'\" For up to the bedside\nwhere the woman lay with heaving breasts and dilated eyes, came a thing\nlike a bear, only that it had no head and no tail; a thing \"half a yard in\nheight and half a yard in length\" (no bigger, Margaret? not so big as a\nwell-trussed man on all-fours?) which, when her husband saw, he took a\njoyn'd stool, and \"stroke\" at it, and the blow sounded as though it had\nfallen on a feather bed. But the creature took no notice of the man: it\nwanted only Margaret. Slowly it paddled round the bed, then smote her\nthrice on the feet, took her out of bed, and rolled her to and fro in the\nchamber, round about the floor and under the bed; the husband and friends,\nsore amazed and affrighted, only calling on God to assist them, not daring\nto lift a hand for themselves or her. And all the while the candle grew\ndimmer and dimmer, so that they could scarce see each other: which was\nwhat Margaret and the headless bear, no doubt, desired. Then the creature\ntook her in its arms, thrust her head between her legs so that he made her\ninto a round ball, and \"so roulled her in a rounde compasse like an Hoope\nthrough three other Chambers, downe an highe paire of staires, in the\nHall, where he kept her for the space of a quarter of an hour.\" The people\nabove durst not come down, but remained above, weeping pitifully and\npraying with loud and fervent prayer. And there was such a terrible stench\nin the hall, and such fiery flames darting hither and thither, that they\nwere fain to stop their noses with clothes and napkins, expecting every\nmoment to find that hell was opening beneath their feet, and that they\nwould be no longer able to keep out of harm's way and the Devil's. Then\nMargaret cried out, \"He is gone. Now he is gone!\" and her husband joyfully\nbade her come up to him again; which she did, but so quickly that they\ngreatly marvelled at it, and thought to be sure the Devil had helped her.\nYet she proved to be none the worse for the encounter: which was singular,\nas times went. They then put her in bed, and four of them kept down the\nclothes, praying fervently. Suddenly the woman was got out of bed: she did\nnot move herself by nerves, muscles, or will, of course; but she was\ncarried out by a supernatural power, and taken to the window at the head\nof the bed. But whether the devil or she opened the window, the pamphlet\ndoes not determine. Then her legs were thrust out of the window, and the\npeople heard a thing knock at her feet as if it had been upon a tub; and\nthey saw a great fire, and they smelt a grievous smell; and then, by the\nhelp of their prayers, they pulled Margaret into the room again, and set\nher upon her feet. After a few moments she cried out, \"O Lord, methinks I\nsee a little childe!\" But they paid no heed to her. Twice or thrice she\nsaid this, and ever more earnestly; and at last they all looked out at the\nwindow, for they thought to be sure she must have some meaning for her\nraving. And \"loe, they espied a thing like unto a little child, with a\nbright shining countenaunce casting a greate light in the chamber.\" And\nthen the candle, which had hitherto burnt blue and dim, gave out its\nnatural light so that they could all see each other. Whereupon they fell\nto joyful prayer, and gave thanks to God for the deliverance. And Margaret\nCooper was laid in her bed again, calm, smiling, and collected, never more\nto be troubled by a Headless Bear which rolled her about like a ball, or\nby a bright shining child looking out from the chinks of a rude magic\nlantern. As for the bear, I confess I think he was nearer akin to man than\ndevil; that he was known about Rockington in Gloucestershire; and that\nMargaret Cooper understood the conduct of the plot from first to last. But\nthen this is the sceptical nineteenth century, wherein the wiles of human\ncunning are more believed in than the power of the devil, or the miracles\nof supernaturalism. Yet this was a case which, in spite of all its fraud\nand folly so patently displayed, was cited as one of the most notorious\nand striking instances of the power of Satan over the bodies as well as\nthe souls of those who gave themselves up to the things of the world.\n\n\nTHE WITCHES OF WARBOIS.[107]\n\nIn 1589, Robert Throckmorton, Esquire, lived at Warbois, in\nHuntingdonshire. He had five daughters, the eldest of whom, Miss Joan, was\nfifteen, while the rest came down in steps, two years or so between each,\nin the ordinary manner. On the tenth of November, Mistress Jane, being\nthen near ten years of age, was suddenly seized with a kind of fit. She\n\"screeked\" loud and often, lay as if in a trance for half an hour or more,\nshook one leg or one arm and no other, \"as if the Palsie had been in it,\"\nmade her body so stiff and rigid that no man could bend her, and went\nthrough the usual forms of a young girl's hysteria. A neighbour, one Alice\nSamuel, who lived next door to the Throckmortons, went in to see the\nafflicted child; for all the neighbours were flocking in to see her as a\nkind of curiosity; and, stepping up into the chimney-side, sat hard down\nby her, she being held in another woman's arms by the fire. Suddenly the\nchild cried out, \"Did you ever see one more like a Witch than she is?\"\npointing to Mother Samuel; \"take off her black-thrumb'd cap, for I cannot\nabide to look at her.\"\n\nNothing was thought of her words at the time, the mother merely chiding\nher for her lightness of speech; but \"the old woman hearing her, sat\nstill, without saying a word, yet looked very dismally, as those that saw\nher remembered very well.\" And as well she might, poor old soul; for she\nmust have known that Mrs. Jane's light speech would in all probability be\nheavy enough to bring her down to the grave.\n\nDoctoring did the child no good. Dr. Barrow of Cambridge, the most noted\nman of the district, gave the distemper no satisfactory name, and his\nremedies were powerless to remove it; Mr. Butler, another skilful man, was\nequally at fault; and when, about a month after Mrs. Jane had been\nattacked, two other daughters were driven to the like extremity, and\n\"cry'd out upon Mother Samuel, 'Take her away, look where she standeth\nthere before us in a black thrumb'd Cap (which she commonly wore, though\nnot then); it's she that hath bewitched us, and she will kill us if you\ndon't take her away,'\" the parents were moved to believe the whole thing\nsupernatural, and that Mother Samuel had indeed bewitched them as they\nsaid. About a month after the affliction of these two, a younger child,\nnot quite nine years old, was taken like the rest; and soon after Mrs.\nJoan, of fifteen, went the same way--only more severely handled than them\nall. Mrs. Joan had a specialty in her fits. She was not only hysterical\nlike her sisters, but she had a Spirit, and this Spirit sounded in her\nears information of things to come: as, that the servants as well as the\nfive children should be bewitched--which they were, but did not become so\nnotorious as the little impostors of better blood; all recovering so soon\nas they left the house for other situations, and nothing more being heard\nof them. Things went on then in this manner, the children being\nperpetually tormented with fits, and for ever crying out against old dame\nSamuel, when, in February of the next year (1590), it was resolved to\nbring her to the house that the children might \"scratch\" her, and so\nrelieve themselves somewhat. Whereupon she, her young daughter Agnes, and\none Cicely Burder--both of whom were accused of the same malpractices as\nherself--were haled to Mr. Throckmorton's, there to undergo their\npreliminary ordeal. Every care was taken to prevent the mother from\nholding any communication with her daughter Agnes; but at the entry she\nmanaged to lean over and whisper to her. Mr. Pickering, the children's\nuncle, who had undertaken to conduct this Scratching, was ready to swear\nthat she said, \"I charge thee do not confess anything;\" but Mother Samuel\nswore, in her turn, that she had only charged her to hasten home to get\nher father his dinner; for that same father was a terrible old Turk, and\nnot likely to wait patiently for his dinner or aught else.\n\nWhen the women went into the house the children were standing by the fire,\nperfectly well; but the instant they saw Mother Samuel, they fell down in\ntheir fits, leaping and springing about like fishes newly taken out of the\nwater, drawing their heads and heels backwards, and throwing out their\narms with great groans that were terrible and troublesome to those that\nbeheld them. They screamed and struggled to get at the old woman,\nscratching at the bed-clothes, or the maids' aprons, or anything they\ncould touch, crying out, \"O! that I had her! O! that I had her!\" And when\nMr. Pickering forced Mother Samuel's hand within theirs, they scratched at\nit with so much vehemence that one of them splintered her nails \"with her\neager desire of revenge;\" doing the same by Cicely Burder, who thus, we\nare not told how or why, found herself in a dangerous and equivocal\nposition, but seems to have got well out of it in time. Or perhaps she\ndied between whiles, happily for herself.\n\nFor the next few months it was Mrs. Elizabeth Throckmorton who kept up the\nball. Mr. Pickering took her away with him to his own house, where she\nfooled them all to the top of their bent, crying out to Mother Samuel to\ntake away her mouse, for she would have none of it, and exclaiming in\npiteous tones that Mother Samuel was trying to force a cat, or a frog, or\nsometimes a toad, into her mouth; hopping about on one leg, pretending to\nbe utterly incapable of putting the other to the ground; sometimes going\nfor two steps at a time, when \"she would halt and give a beck with her\nhead as low as her knees;\" asking if no one heard the spirit within her\nlapping the milk she had just taken; playing at cards with her eyes shut,\nor seemingly so; and falling into drowsy fits which took her even in the\nmidst of meals, or any while else specially untimely. Her bewitchment took\na certain controversial turn too, and witnessed for the Pope and the\nDevil; for \"on the Eleventh, one asked her if she loved the Word of God;\nwhereupon she was much troubled and tormented. When they asked, Love you\nWitchcraft? she was content. Love you the Bible? it shaked her. Love you\nPapistry? the Devil within her was quiet. Love you Prayer? it raged. Love\nyou the Mass? it was still. Love you the Gospel? it heaved up her Belly;\nso that every good thing it disliked; but whatever concerned Popish\nIdolatry it was pleased with.\" Mr. Pickering kept this sectarian young\nlady from March to September, and then it pleased Mistress Elizabeth to\nrequire change of air and scene, and she demanded to be taken back to her\nfather's house at Warbois. There she played off her tricks with new\nvigour, when Lady Cromwell, wife of Sir Henry Cromwell, Knt., hearing of\nthese heavy afflictions came to visit the children and comfort the\nparents. The children of course went off into their customary state; it\nwas not their game to disappoint my Lady; \"and were so grievously\nTormented that it moved the good Lady's Heart with Pity, so that she could\nnot forbear Tears, and caused old Mother Samuel to be sent for, who durst\nnot deny to come, because her Husband was Tenant to Sir Henry Cromwell.\"\nAs soon as she came in, the children were so much worse that the Lady,\ntransported beyond herself, and exceedingly angry that Mother Samuel would\nnot confess to her crime, seized hold of her as she was struggling to get\nfree of their hands and slip out of the room, pulled off her kircher, and\ncut off a lock of her hair, which she gave privately to Mrs. Throckmorton\ntogether with the old dame's hairlace; bidding her burn them. The old\nwoman turning against the Lady, said, half sorrowfully, \"Madam, why do you\nuse me thus? I never did you any harm as yet:\" words to be remembered and\ntreasured up against her, when the hour came. That very night Lady\nCromwell had bad dreams concerning Mother Samuel and her cat, which she\nsaid came to strip all the flesh from her--and awakened, crying mightily\nand much distressed. From that time she had fits, and continued very\nhardly holden till her dying day, which was one year and a quarter after\nthe visit to Warbois. So Mother Samuel's words were held to have been\nwitch's threats, and the whole country was convinced that Lady Cromwell\nhad died by her magic arts, and bewitched. As she was, poor lady, with\nnervous fear and superstition and ignorance.\n\nThe next year, in the winter of 1591, Mr. Henry Pickering, a young student\nat Cambridge, tried to make Dame Samuel confess, but she would not suffer\nhim or his companions to speak, and when they desired her to speak\nsoftlier, answered: \"She was born in a Mill, begot in a Kiln, and must\nhave her Will, and could speak no softlier.\" Then Mr. Henry began to\nquestion her on her faith, but got only tart answers; so, losing patience,\nhe said that if she did not repent and confess to having worked that\nwickedness on the children, he hoped one day to see her burn at the stake,\nand that he would bring wood and faggots and the children should blow the\ncoals. To which old Dame Samuel replied that she \"would rather see him\ndoused over head in the pond;\" and so went away home, to be beaten for\ngossiping and staying late, by that terrible old Turk of hers.\n\nAnd now the children would be well only when the dame was with them; so\nthe parents sought to engage her to live with them, but the old Turk would\nnot give his consent, and beat her severely with a cudgel on the slightest\npretext. The whole thing angered him, and his dame could not do right let\nher do what she would. However, he was prevailed on to spare her for eight\nor nine days, during which time the lying little girls professed\nthemselves cured of all their haunting spirits--dun chickens, naked babes,\nand the like; to the old woman's extreme consternation and passionate\nassurances of innocence. Then the children turned against Agnes Samuel,\nthe daughter, declaring that she had bewitched them equally with the\nmother: whereupon the father, Mr. Throckmorton, went to bring her to the\nhouse; when she hid herself in an attic or loft, barricading herself in by\nsacks of wool piled up on the trapdoor. She was forced to come down at\nlast, and her fear was made the chief evidence against her. The hour had\ncome round for her on Time's cruel dial, and she could not escape the\ninevitable decree that had gone forth. All this while the old mother was\nforcibly detained at Mr. Throckmorton's house; the children pretending\nthat they could be well only in her presence, and absolutely refusing to\nlet her go, though she was sick and fearful and weary, and cried to get\nhome again to her daughter and husband. That uncompromising oaken cudgel\nof his was less terrible than the awful suspicion under which she was\nliving here; and the harassing uncertainty of her life--never knowing what\nnew lie the children might frame against her, nor how much nearer they\nmight bring her to the gallows by some wicked fancy or delusion--was\ninfinitely worse than all the oaths and ill-usage of home, of which she\nknew at least the extent and end. She seems to have been a gentle-spirited\nold creature in spite of her crusty tongue; and at the beck of every one\nwho chose to knock her about and require from her service and submission.\nWhen Mr. Throckmorton had teased and threatened and exhorted her, till she\nwas completely \"dazed and mazed\" with all she heard--and when the children\nhad acted their fits with such power and accuracy that they simulated\nnature to the life, and had impressed even her with all the wicked things\nwhich their Spirits told them of her and of her daughter--her mind,\nenfeebled by suffering and terror, gave way, and she was deluded into a\nconfession of sin and penitence; after which she obtained leave to go\nhome. As her husband gave her but a harsh welcome, angry with her for her\nweakness in confessing, she recanted as of course; when Mr. Throckmorton,\ngetting hold of her by an open window beneath which his friends were\nstationed, bullied and deluded her once more into making a confession\nwhich they might hear; and on the strength of which he carried off both\ndame and daughter, to be examined by the Bishop of Lincoln.\n\nThe Bishop found her easy. Yes, she had an imp; a dun chicken which sucked\non her chin, and which she had sent to torment the Throckmorton girls. The\ndun chicken and the rest of the spirits were now at the bottom of her\nstomach, and made her so full and heavy that she could not lace her coat,\nnor was the horse on which she rode able to carry her all the way: she had\nthree spirits, all like dun chickens--Pluck, Catch, and White, which had\nbeen given her by an \"upright man,\" extremely hard, of the name of\nLangland, of no particular dwelling and now gone beyond seas; and she had\nsent all three to the children and had plagued them sorely. This she said\nat various times, at each clause conjuring the devil and her spirits to\ninform her of the facts required by the Right Reverend Father in God.\nAfter her examination she and her daughter were committed to gaol; but Mr.\nThrockmorton got Agnes out on bail that he might take her home to the\nchildren, and see what they would say of her. This seemed to him the best\nway to complete the evidences of guiltiness against her, which at present\nwere very slight and worthless. So the net closed tighter and tighter\nround this hapless family, and soon the deep black waves, rolling onward,\ndashed over their devoted heads.\n\nWhen they heard that Agnes was brought back to Warbois, the children fell\ninto their fits again, each saying, \"I am glad, I am glad; none so glad as\nI.\" They knew the cruel sport preparing for them, and were in no hurry to\nabandon the pleasant excitement of their Possession, during which they\nwere made so many centres of public interest, petted and commiserated and\nlooked at and talked about and made of more consequence than the finest\nlady in the land. When the game was over they must sink down into the\nhumdrum lives of good little girls in a country town, of no possible\ninterest to living being outside their own house door. Surely an event to\nbe deferred to the latest moment possible! For the first three or four\ndays after Agnes' arrival they condescended to be well, but, being by that\ntime tired of their new companion, they fell back into their former state,\nand cried out against her more bitterly than they had ever done against\nher mother. She was more helpless, too, than the mother, and more entirely\nin their power; so that the sport was greater, and the fear of opposition\nor detection less. Specially did Mistress Joan, the eldest girl, torment\nher; who, being at this time seventeen, had other ideas of spirits than\ndun chickens, mice, or frogs, which were all very well in the days of her\ninfancy but quite uninteresting to her now. The manner in which she\nintroduced her Spirits was singular. One day, just after her nose had\nbled, and she had said \"it would be a good thing to throw her handkerchief\ninto the fire, and burn the young witch,\" she suddenly looked about her\nsmiling, and said, \"What is this in God's Name that comes tumbling to me?\nIt tumbles like a Foot-bal, it looks like a puppit-player, and appears\nmuch like its Dame's old thrumb Cap. 'What is your Name, I pray you?' said\nshe. The Thing answered, his Name was Blew. To which she answered, 'Mr.\nBlew you are welcome, I never saw you before; I thought my Nose bled not\nfor nothing, what News have you brought? What,' says she, 'dost thou say I\nshall be worse handled than ever I was? Ha! what dost thou say? that I\nshall now have my Fits, when I shall both hear and see and know every\nBody? that's a new Trick indeed. I think never any of my Sisters were so\nused, but I care not for you: do your worst, and when you have done, you\nwill make an end.'\" Then she cried out that Agnes Samuel had too much\nliberty, and must be more strictly looked to; for that Mr. Blew had told\nher she should have no peace till she and the old dame were hanged.\n\nMrs. Joan had opened a most prolific and amusing vein. Her imagination\nstopped at nothing, and she showed herself no mean hand at romance. She\nwas very consecutive too, and kept up the likeness well. In the evening\nMr. Blew appeared again, chiefly for the purpose of telling her that young\nNan Samuel was his Dame, and to ask when the Spirit Smack, of whom he was\njealous, had been with her. Mrs. Joan said she knew of no Smack. \"You do,\"\nsays the Thing, \"and it is he that tells you all these things, but I will\ncurse him for it.\" \"Do your worst to me or him, I care not for you,\" says\nshe. \"Farewel,\" says the Thing. \"Do you bid me farewel?\" says she;\n\"farewel, and be hanged; and come again when you are sent for.\" So then\nshe came out of her fit. The next day a strange gentleman coming, Mrs.\nElizabeth passed off into one of her wild states, and Mr. Throckmorton,\n\"to show the gentleman a wonder,\" sent for young Agnes, and made her say\nafter him, \"I charge thee, thou Devil, as I love thee, and have Authority\nover thee, and am a Witch, and guilty of this matter, that thou suffer\nthis Child to be well at this present.\" Upon which Mrs. Elizabeth wiped\nher eyes, and was perfectly well; and the wretched young girl was by so\nmany steps nearer to her doom. The next day was a grand field-day for\nMrs. Joan. Her spirits were in admirable disorder. Mr. Smack came from\nfighting with Pluck about her, for they were both in love with her, and\nhad fought with great cowl staves last night in old dame's back yard, and\nSmack had broken Pluck's head, for which Mrs. Joan was not at all\nthankful, but, when he looked for a little loving word of gratitude,\nanswered, scornfully, that she wished Pluck had broke his neck also, and\nso bid him go and be hanged for she would have nought to do with him.\nPresently in came Mr. Pluck, hanging down his broken head and looking very\nsheepish, but jealous and angry with Smack who seemed to have the best\nchance of them all with the young lady. Another day it was Catch who came\nin limping, with a broken leg got from the redoubtable Smack; but when\nMrs. Joan tried to break his other leg with a stick she had in her\nhand--for she was a very scornful young lady to them--she could not; for\never as she struck at him he leaped over the stick, \"just like a\nJack-an-apes,\" as she said. Mr. Blew's turn came next. He appeared before\nher at supper with his arm in a sling: Smack had broken it. So Smack broke\nPluck's head, Catch's leg, and Blew's arm, and then came himself to tell\nher that he would beat them all again, with the help of his cousin another\nSmack, and one Hardname, whose \"Name standeth upon eight Letters, and\nevery Letter standeth for a Word, but what his Name is otherwise we know\nnot.\" Then Smack and she conversed about the propriety of \"scratching\"\nAgnes Samuel; and it was agreed between them that she should not scratch\nher then, because her face would be healed by the Assizes, but just before\nthat time when all the world might see the marks.\n\nAnd now began a scene of painful brutality. Whenever the children fell\ninto their fits, they would only consent to be got out of them by Agnes'\nrepeating a form of conjuration, in which she acknowledged herself to be a\nwitch and guilty of their disease, commanding the devil, whom she had sent\ninto them, to leave them. Then they came round, and were well until\nstrangers called, when they invariably went off into their fits--which we\ncan quite well understand--or until they got tired of the monotony of\nhealth. The most terrible threats were held out against Nan Samuel; and\neach child talked to its particular spirit with passion and fury of\nscratching her. It came at last: the little diabolical tempers which rose\nhigher and higher with each fresh indulgence, getting weary of only fits\nand muttered communications with spirits and the thirst for blood grew\ninto a frenzy. One of the younger children, Mrs. Mary, one day fell into a\n\"very troublesome Fit,\" which held her half an hour, and at the last,\ngrowing better, she said, \"Is it true? Do you say this is the day I must\nscratch the young Witch? I am glad of it; I will pay her home both for\nmyself and Sisters.\" The young Pickering men who were standing by, hearing\nthis, sent for Agnes to come into the room; when she came in the child\ncried out, \"Art thou come, thou young Witch, who hath done all this\nmischief?\" At which Agnes seemed surprised, this being the first time Mrs.\nMary had abused her. Then one of the company told her to take Mary in her\narms, and carry her down stairs; but she had no sooner got hold of her\nthan the child fell to scratching her head and face with eager fierceness;\nthe poor girl standing still and holding down her head, not defending\nherself but only crying out pitifully, while the child scratched on her\nface a broad and bleeding wound. When she was out of breath and thus\nforced to leave off, she cried and said \"she was sorry for her cruelty,\nbut the Thing made her do it, so that she could not help herself.\" Another\nday it was another of them who fell upon the maid, she not defending\nherself or resenting, but \"crying out sadly, desiring the Lord to pitty\nher.\" Then they abused her, saying, \"Thy Mother is a Witch, thy Father is\na Witch, and thou art a Witch, and the worst of all;\" and then they\nclamoured for the father, the old Turk, and would have him in to scratch\nhim too. Just at that moment old Samuel chanced to come in to see his\ndaughter--for he knew what kind of treatment she had to undergo--when a\ngreat hubbub arose. The children cried out against him, and--wretched\nyoung hypocrites!--exhorted him in the godliest terms to confess and\nrepent; called him witch and naughty man and all the rest of the injuries\nthen current; while he retorted fiercely and rudely, and told one of the\nlittle baggages she lied--as she did. But Mr. Throckmorton got angry, and\nwould not let him go till he had pronounced the same conjuration as that\nby which his poor daughter was forced to \"fyle\" herself; and when he had\nsaid the words, the child came out of her fit, and acted amazement and\nshame to the life. So it went on: the children having their fits, being\nvisited by their spirits, of whom there were nine now afloat--three\nSmacks, Pluck, Blew, Catch, White, Callicot, and Hardname--and every day\nor so scratching poor Nan till her face and back and hands were one mass\nof scars and wounds. And then the Assize time came, and the three\nSamuels--father, mother, and daughter--were put upon their trial for\nbewitching Lady Cromwell to death, and tormenting Mrs. Joan Throckmorton\nand her sisters. There could be no mistake about it now, for not only had\nthey all three convicted themselves by their own confessions in the\nconjuration which they had been obliged to repeat, but even before the\njudge, Mrs. Jane played off the like trick, falling into a terrible fit\nwhich only old Samuel could get her out of by repeating the charm. At\nfirst he was obstinate and sturdily refused to say the words; but on the\njudge telling him that he should be brought in guilty if he did not, he\nconsented, and had no sooner said--\"As I am a witch, and did consent to\nthe death of the Lady Cromwell, so I charge thee, Devil, to suffer Mrs.\nJane to come out of her Fit at this present\"--than Mrs. Jane wiped her\neyes, looked round her, and said, \"O Lord father where am I?\" pretending\nto be quite amazed at her position. No hand is wanting when there is\nstoning to be done. Now that the Samuels were fairly convicted of\nwitchcraft in one instance, witnesses came forward to prove them guilty of\nthe like in others. It was remembered how certain persons had died who had\noffended the old dame; how others had lost their cows and whole farm stock\nin consequence of giving her rough language; how, even since she had been\nin gaol, she had bewitched to his death one of the turnkeys who had\nchained her to a bedpost, and had cruelly afflicted the gaoler's own son,\nso that he could not be recovered but by \"scratching\" her; with the\nfurther proof that when the grand jury returned a true bill, \"billa vera,\"\nagainst them, old father Samuel burst out passionately to her with, \"A\nplague of God light on thee, for thou art she that has brought us all to\nthis, and we may thank thee for it.\" So the judge, \"after good divine\ncounsel given to them, proceeded to Judgment, which was to death.\" But the\npoor old woman set up a plea of being with child, though she was near\nfourscore years of age; at which all the court laughed, and she herself\nmost of all, thinking it might save her. Some one standing near to Agnes\ncounselled her to try the like plea; but the brave young girl, who had\nsomething of her father's spirit in her, indignantly refused. \"No,\" said\nAgnes, with the gallows straight before her, and this desperate plea\nperhaps able to save her--\"no; it shall never be said that I was both\nWitch and ----.\" She died with the same haughty courage maintained to the\nlast: but old mother Samuel maundered through a vast number of\nconfessions--implicated her husband--confessed to her spirits--but with\none affecting touch of nature, through all her drivel and imbecility\nsteadily refused to criminate her daughter. No, her Nan was no witch; she\nwas clear and pure before God and towards man; and neither force nor\ncajolery could make her forswear that bit of loving truth.\n\nWhen those three helpless wretches were fairly dead, the children, upon\nwhose young souls lay the ineffaceable stain of Murder, and whose first\nsteps in life had been through innocent blood, gave up the game and\npronounced themselves cured: so we hear no more of their fits or their\nspirits, or Mrs. Joan's ghostly lovers fighting with cowl staves and\nbreaking each other's heads out of jealousy and revenge: and the last\nrecord of the case is, that Sir Henry Cromwell left an annual sum of forty\nshillings to provide for a yearly sermon against witchcraft, to be\npreached at Huntingdon by a B.D. or D.D. member of Queen's College,\nCambridge. How terrible to think that three human lives were sacrificed\nfor such wild and wilful nonsense, and that sane and thoughtful and\nnoble-minded people of this present day walk on the way towards the same\nfaith! Better by far the most chill and desolate scepticism, which at\nleast will light no Smithfield fires for any forms of creed or monstrous\nimaginings of superstition, than beliefs which can only be expressed and\nmaintained by blood, and the culmination of which is in the suffering and\ndestruction of all dissentients.\n\n\nTHE MAN OF HOPE AND THE DEVIL.[108]\n\nA young lawyer, a Mr. Darrel, had a call to the ministry. He was made\naware of this by the extraordinary sluggishness that came upon him when he\nturned to open a law book; so, as preaching puritanical sermons extempore\nwas less toilsome and cost less study than learning the intricacies of the\nCodex Anglicanus, he became converted to extreme doctrines, and was\nprincipally regarded as a Man of Hope, skilful in casting out devils and\nmarvellously apt at discovering witchcraft. His first essay at this work\nwas in 1587 with Katherine Green, a young girl of seventeen, who had some\nhysterical affection which caused her to swell to an enormous size and led\nher to fancies and delusions, as, that she saw shapes and apparitions, and\na young child without feet or legs looking at her from out a well. She\nalso had fits, which she afterwards confessed were simulated in order to\nmake her father-in-law, who was generally exceedingly severe with her,\nmore kind and pliable: but Mr. Darrel said they were the fits of\npossession, and, as a proof, cast eight devils out of her; specially one\nsturdy devil, called Middlecub, which had been sent into her by Margaret\nRoper. Mr. Darrel at once seized Margaret Roper, accusing her of this\nMiddlecub imp, and sending her off to the magistrate, Mr. Fouliamb; and in\nthe meanwhile Katherine suffered herself to be repossessed, having been\nimprudent enough to talk with the devil in the likeness of a handsome\nyoung man who met her in the lanes, where he entertained her with\npropositions of marriage, and gave her some bread to eat. Mr. Fouliamb\nhappened to be a man of sense, and discharged Margaret Roper, at the same\ntime threatening to send Darrel to prison in her stead if he took on\nhimself to calumniate honest folk without cause. This rebuff cooled the\nyoung lawyer parson's ardour a little; but in 1594 the Starkies of\nLancashire announced themselves possessed, and Mr. Darrel must needs go\ndown to vex the foul fiend that had gotten them. For he was so holy a man\nthat the devils hated him mightily, being sorely vexed in his presence,\nand crying out, \"Now he is gone; now he is gone; now blacke coate is\ngone,\" as soon as he quitted them, wearied with his wrestling. The story\nof the Starkies was this:--\n\nAnne, aged nine, and John, of ten, were taken with \"dumpish heavie\ncountenances,\" and fearful startings of their bodies, loud shouting fits,\nand convulsions. The father went to Hartley, a known conjuror, who came to\ntheir aid with popish charms and certain herbs; and so stilled them for a\nyear and a half. But when he \"fained as thought he would haue gone into\nanother countrey,\" the children fell ill again, and Mr. Starkie thought it\nbest to secure the perpetual services of the conjuror by a fee of forty\nshillings yearly. But Hartley wanted more, and thereupon began a quarrel\nwhich ended in the Possession of the children, of three scholars living at\nthe Starkies, of Margaret Byron, and lastly of Hartley himself. Now\nHartley had a devil, and whomsoever he kissed he inoculated with this\ndevil and breathed it into them. And as he was always kissing some\none--John for love often, the little wenches in jest, to Margaret Hardman\n\"promising a thraue of kisses,\" \"wrestling with Johan Smyth, a maid, to\nkiss her\"--he had given the devil in rich proportion all through the\nStarkies' house, and only Mr. Darrel could exorcise him. The possessed\nleaped about like goats, and crawled on all fours like beasts, and barked\nlike dogs, and had communications from a white dove, and saw horned devils\nunder the beds, and had visions of big black dogs with monstrous tails and\nbound with chains, and huge black cats and big mice that knocked them down\nat a blow, and left them speechless, cold, and dead. And then they took to\n\"slossinge up their meat like greedy dogges or hogges,\" and they made the\nsame noises as a broken-winded horse; and they howled and shrieked; and\none of them, Jane Ashton the servant aged thirty, fell foul of Edmund\nHartley for all his kisses and promises of marriage; and they \"yelled and\nwhupped;\" and there was in very truth the devil to pay in that horrible\nhouse when Mr. More and Mr. Darrel went to exorcise the fiends and restore\nthe possessed to their senses. After some days of prayer, and of fighting\nwith the devil who would cry out when Mr. Darrel was preaching, \"Bible\nbable, he will never have done prating, prittle prattle;\" and \"I must goe,\nI must away; I cannot tarrie; whither shall I goe? I am hot, I am too hot,\nI will not dye!\" and such like, six of them were delivered, and visibly\nand bodily dispossessed. With one, Mary Byron, the devil came up from her\nstomach to her breast, then to her throat, when it gave her \"a sore lug,\"\nwhilst a mist dazzled her eyes. Then she felt it go out of her mouth,\nleaving behind it a sore throat and a filthy smell, and it was in the\nlikeness of a crow's head, and it sat in a corner of the parlour in the\ndark; but suddenly flashing out all a fire it flew out of the window, and\nthe whole place was in a blaze, according to her imagination. John Starkie\nlost his in the shape of a man with a humpback and very ill-favoured, who,\nwhen he had gone out wished much to re-enter, but Master John withstood\nhim, and had the best of it. He was like a \"foule ugly man with a white\nbeard and a 'bulch' on his back.\" The same tale had little Ellin Holland\nand Anne Starkie to tell, all save the white beard. Elinor Hardman lost\nhers as an urchin, but presently returning through a little hole in the\nparlour, he offered her gold and silver in any quantity if she would let\nhim enter again, and when she resisted he threatened to cast her into the\nfire and the pit, and to break her neck; all of which threats being\nunheeded by the little maid of ten, he left her again in his old form of\n\"urchin.\" The next day, and the next, all these devils came again, seeking\nto repossess the children. They came in various forms--as a black raven; a\nblack boy, with his head bigger than his body; a black rough dog with a\nfirebrand in his mouth; five white doves; a brave fellow like a wooer; two\nlittle whelps that played on the table, and ran into a dish of butter; an\nape; a bear with fire in his mouth; a haystack--all, haystack as well as\nthe rest, promising them bags of gold and silver if they might come into\nthem again, but threatening to break their necks and their backs, and\nthrow them into the pit and the fire, and out of the window, if denied.\nBut Messrs. More and Darrel were instant in prayer, and successfully\nwithstood them. The children were pronounced finally dispossessed: all\nsave Jane Ashton, who went away to a popish family and became popish\nherself; wherefore the devil recovered her, says Mr. Darrel, and her last\nstate was worse than her first. As for Edmund Hartley, he was hanged at\nLancaster, chiefly through Mr. Darrel's exertions.\n\nIn 1596 Mr. Darrel had more work. Thomas Darling, \"the Boy of Burton,\" had\noffended old Alice Goodridge; so Alice possessed him, and Mr. Darrel was\nsent for the undoing. His chief weapon in this case was a ranting tract\ncalled \"The Enemie of Securitie,\" which the devil could not abide any how,\nand during the reading of which he would cry out--through the earthly\nmedium of the Boy of Burton--\"Radulphus, Belzebub can doe no good, his\nhead is stricken off with a word.\"--\"We cannot prevaile (against the\nchurch and Mr. Darrel), for they will not be holpen by witches. Brother\nRadulphus, we cannot prevaile; let us go to our mistress and torment her;\nI have had a draught of her blood to-day.\" \"Againe--'There is a woman\nearnest at prayer, get her away.' 'Nay,' quoth John Alsop (a man that was\npresent), with a loude voice, 'we cannot spare her.' Thus the Boy graced\nMistress Wightman, his aunt. And againe, 'Brother Glassop (another devil),\nwe cannot prevaile, his faith is soe strong. And they fast and pray, and a\npreacher prayeth as fast as they.'\" And \"I bayted my hooke often, and at\nlast I catcht him. Heere I was before, and heere I am againe, and heere I\nmust stay, though it be but for a short tyme. I leade them to drink,\ncarouse, and quaffe. I make them to sweare. I have leave given mee to doe\nwhat I will for a time. What is wightier than a Kinge in his owne lande? A\nKing I am, in whome I raigne, heere I am King for a time.\" With much more\nof the same kind. In the mean time old Alice Goodridge, who had wrought\nall this mischief, died in prison, while her devilish spirit or imp,\nMinnie, whom she had sent into the boy, racketed and rioted in his soul\nand body, and Mr. Darrel wrestled against him with prayer and \"the Enemie\nof Securitie.\" He finally prevailed, and after Thomas Darling had been\npossessed and dispossessed and repossessed again, delivered him from\nRadulphus and Minnie and Glassop and Beelzebub, and so had leisure to turn\nto some one else when needed.\n\nThat some one else was soon found; for there was Will Somers, a lad living\nwith Mr. Brakenbury at Ashby-de-la-Zouch during the time of Mr. Darrel's\nministry there, who was now at Nottingham, and one of the most\naccomplished demoniacs of the day. Nothing would satisfy Will but that Mr.\nDarrel should be sent for to cast the devil out of him. He had known of\nhis prowess with Katherine Wright, and the Starkies, and the Boy of\nBurton, and why should he not glorify God and the Puritans as well in\nNottingham as in Lancashire? Accordingly, that gentleman was sent for on\nthe 5th of November, 1597, and the farce began. Before Mr. Darrel even saw\nthe lad he said he was possessed, and he said the same thing to\nhimself--counterfeiting or illness being of course put out of court; and\nhe described to the bystanders in what shape the devil would appear when\ndriven out of the lad--for he would make himself visible to them if they\nhad but faith and courage and patience to see the end, and if they would\nnot be terrified when the boy \"scriehed or cryed aloude in a strange and\nsupernaturall manner; sometimes roaring fearfullye lyke a beare, and\ncrying like a swyne.\" The shapes, then, in which he would go were\nthese--\"a Mouse, a Man with a Hunch-back higher than his Head, an ugly Man\nwith a white Beard, a Crow's Head round, a great Breath, ugly like a Toad,\nan Urchin, &c.\" And he told them, also in the lad's hearing, of what other\npossessed persons had done: how they had cast themselves into fire or\nwater, gnashed with their teeth, writhed with their necks, and drawn their\nmouths awry, foaming. Then he said that Will Somers was afflicted for the\nsins of Nottingham, and God had made even the devil a preacher to deter\nthem from them; whereat Will acted by signs all the sins of Nottingham,\nand Mr. Darrel explained them to the people as he went on. With such a\nmaster as this, it was no difficult matter for the pupil to succeed. Two\nsermons were preached on his behalf. During Mr. Aldred's he lay still,\nexcepting a little struggle now and then: this was to show that Mr. Aldred\nwas not powerful as a Man of God. But when Mr. Darrel began, he roused\nhimself up, and on his describing the fourteen signs of Possession one\nafter the other, acted them all to the life as he told them off. \"He tore;\nhe foamed; he wallowed; his Face was drawn awry; his Eyes would stare and\nhis Tongue hang out; he had a Swelling would seem to run from his Forehead\ndown by his Ear and Throat, and through his Belly and Thighs, to the Calf\nof his Legs; he would speak with his Mouth scarce moving; and when they\nlooked his Tongue would seem drawn down his Throat; he would try to cast\nhimself into the Fire and Water; he would seem heavy that they could not\nlift him, and his Joints stiff that they could not bend them.\" And when\nMr. Darrel further exhorted them all to stand firm, and they would see the\nglory of God in the dispossession, he cried and rended and laid as if\ndead, just in the order which the preacher desired. Then he rose up cured\nand exorcised; but Mr. Darrel told him he might be possessed again, and he\nmust be very careful and watchful. Of course he was possessed again. He\nhad been too great a gainer by the first trial not to venture on a second.\nIf he had been bought off his apprenticeship, had large presents of\nclothes, and kept in idleness at his father-in-law's, for a first trial,\nwhat might not fall from the skies on this second occasion? So Will began\nto talk wildly of a black dog that haunted him, offering him gold and\nginger, and of the devil who came with six more shapes to torment\nhim--namely, as a cock, a crane, a snake, an angel, a toad, a newt, a set\nof viols, and dancers, and that he stood before him \"with a foure-forked\ncappe on his heade;\" sometimes, too, making noises and motions like whelps\nor \"kitlings.\" Fourteen persons were thrown into prison, accused of\nbewitching Master Will, of whom the most celebrated was Millicent Horslie,\nwhom no human skill could have saved had not the impostor betrayed himself\nin time. For Will Somers had a revelation concerning her, which must be\ntold in the words of his \"confession,\" as reported by Harsnet:--\"Maister\nDarrel told my father-in-law and others in my hearing, that he, the said\nMaister Darrel, Maister Aldred, and some others, were going to carrie\nMillicent Horsley (that present morning) to the said Maister Perkins, to\nbe examined. Whereupon, I gessing by the time of Maister Darrel's\ndeparture, and by the distance of the way, and of the likelihood that she\nwoulde deny herselfe to bee a witche, said to those that were present by\nmee in one of my fittes, about eleven of the clocke, that Millicent\nHorsley was in examining, and that she denyed herselfe to be a witch.\"\nThis coincidence was too striking an instance of supernatural power to be\noverlooked. Mr. Darrel worked on it as one of the most marvellous proofs\nof the boy's undeniable possession, and Millicent Horsley lay in gaol,\ntogether with thirteen others, to satisfy the craft of one and the\ncredulity of the other, and to prove the whole age sick, diseased, and\nenfeebled by superstition.\n\nWill's sister, Mary Cowper, seeing how pleasant and profitable a thing it\nwas to be bewitched, followed in her brother's steps, and cried out on\nAlice Freeman, a poor old creature who thought to escape by saying she was\nwith child. The plea was not a very safe one, for Mr. Darrel told her if\nshe was, it was by the devil, and she had better have held her tongue. But\nby this time the parish authorities got frightened, and interfered;\nsending Will off to the workhouse, where he still continued his fits and\nantics, until a rough fellow there, one John Shepheard, told him that if\nhe \"did not leave and rise up he would set such a pair of Knip-knaps upon\nhim as should make him rue it\"--when he gathered himself up and confessed\nhis imposture. Mr. Darrel would have none of this recantation. He said he\nwas more possessed than ever, and that it was the devil within him that\nmade him to lie. So Will wrote the following letter, as a kind of quietus\nto his zealous friend:--\n\n\"Mr. Darrel, my hearty Commendations unto you. This is to desire you that\nyou would let me be at quiet: For whereas you said that I was Possessed, I\nwas not; and for those Tricks that I did before you came, was through\nFolks Speeches that came to me: And those that I did since, was through\nyour Speeches, and others. For as you said I could not hear, I did hear\nall Things that were done in the House, and all Things that I did were\ncounterfeit; And I pray you to let it pass; for the more you meddle in\nit, the more discredit it will be for you: And I pray God, and you, and\nall the World to forgive me.\"\n\nEven this was not enough. Will was bribed over by the promise of a good\nplace in a gentleman's house if he would be properly demoniac again; and\nconsenting thereto, played again his old tricks; but the Lord Chief\nJustice, Sir Edmund Anderson, not believing a word of it all, encouraged\nhim kindly to tell the truth, and not be afraid; so Will started up and\nwas perfectly well, and for the greater satisfaction of the gentlefolks\nshowed them how he worked.\n\nAnd to prove how small was the value of evidence in those days, one\nRichard Mee--who was held to have deposed \"That he had seen William Somers\nturn his Face directly backward, not moving his Body, and that his Eyes\nwere as great as Beasts' Eyes, and that his Tongue would be thrust out of\nhis Head to the bigness of a Calve's Tongue\" when re-examined explained\nhimself thus:--\"My Meaning was that he turned his Face a good Way towards\nhis Shoulder, and that his Eyes were something gogling; and by reason that\nit was Candle-light when I saw his Tongue thrust out, and by reason of my\nConceit of the Strangeness of Somers's Troubles, it seemed somewhat bigger\nthan, if Somers had been well, I should have thought it to have been.\"\nAgain, a black dog which Will had cried out on as the devil, and which, by\nreason of his words had actually been taken for the devil with eyes\nglaring like fire, come back to repossess him, turned out to be nothing\nbut a spurrier's dog crouching in the background of the darkening chamber.\nSo, when carefully sifted, would the evidence of all such-like marvels\nprove to be merest chaff scattered on the ground; and yet, a century\nafter, Mr. Richard Boulton is found repeating the story of Will Somers'\npossession as if it had never been disproved; and there are some even now\nliving who would cite it as a case of proved spiritualism. Mr. Darrel was\ndegraded from the ministry, and committed to close prison: rather harsh\nmeasures simply because he had more faith and a little less discretion\nthan his neighbours.\n\n\nGIFFARD'S ANECDOTES.[109]\n\nGeorge Giffard, \"minister of God's word in Maldon,\" put forth a little\nbook in 1603, containing a number of witch stories and anecdotes, without\nnames, dates, or places, yet written in a manner and style evidently\nproving their reliability, and all seeming to have come within his own\npersonal knowledge as believed in by others. One, whom he knew, under the\nassumed name of one of his characters was constantly troubled by a hare,\nwhich his conscience accused him was a witch \"she stared at him so;\" and\nsometimes an ugly weasel would run through his yard; and sometimes a foul\nbig cat sit upon his barn, for which he had no manner of liking; and an\nold woman of the place, whom he had been as careful to please as if she\nhad been his mother, still frowned upon him to his exceeding discomfort;\nand a hog which overnight had eaten his meat with his fellows, quite\nhearty and well, in the morning was stark dead; and five or six hens died\ntoo, in a manner no one could understand, save by the power of witchcraft.\nAnd once another of his friends went to a cunning man who lived twenty\nmiles off, complaining of his farm-yard losses: so the cunning man took a\nglass, and bidding him look in it, showed him a certain suspected witch\ntherein, telling him that she had three or four imps, \"some call them\npuckrels,\" one of which was like a gray cat, another like a weasel, a\nthird like a mouse. There was also another cunning person--a woman--to\nwhom a father took a child that had long been lame and pained. The woman\ntold the man he had an ill neighbour, and that the child was forespoken.\n\"Marie, if he would go home and bring her some of the clothes which the\nchild lay in all night, she would tell him certainely.\" The father went\nhome and did as he was bid, when the wise woman informed him that the girl\nwas bewitched, counselled him what to do, and the \"girle is well at this\nday, and a pretie quicke girle,\" says George Giffard, with a sneer at his\nneighbour's easy faith. Another had his wife much troubled; so he, too,\nwent off to a wise woman, who told him that his wife was haunted by a\nfairy. As a counter-charm she was bidden to wear a part of St. John's\nGospel ever about her, against which the fairies could not stand, so fled.\nAnother good wife could not make her butter come: it was bewitched, and\nfor a whole week obstinately disregarded the laws of butter nature:\nwherefore they heated a spit, red hot, and thrust it into the cream--and\nit came at once. The next morning the good wife met the suspected\nwitch--\"the old filth,\" she calls her with more emphasis than euphony.\n\"Lord, how sowerly she looked upon me, and mumbled as she went! Ah, quoth\nshe, you have an honest man to your husband. I hear how he doth use me!\"\nThe wife longed to scratch the witch, her stomach rose so against her, but\nshe was afraid she would prove the stronger, for she was \"a lustie old\nquean,\" and let her pass unmolested.\n\nIn a certain village a wealthy man was suddenly reduced to comparative\npoverty by extraordinary losses in his farm; he himself fell ill, and his\nchild of seven years of age sickened and died. He sent to the same wise\nwoman at R. H., who told him that he was bewitched, and moreover, that\nthere were three witches and one wizard in the town where he lived. The\nforespoken farmer caused the one whom he most suspected to be seized and\nexamined, who at last confessed, after making \"much ado,\" and taking up\nthe time of the worshipful justice to no good. She said that she had three\nimps, a cat Lightfoot, a toad Lunch, a weasel Makeshift. Lightfoot had\nbeen given to her sixteen years ago, by one Mother Barlie of W. in return\nfor an oven cake; the toad and the weasel came of their own accord and\noffered their services gratuitously. The cat killed kine, the weasel\nkilled horses, and the toad plagued men; so the poor old creature was sent\nto the county gaol, where she died before the assizes. Another woman, old\nMother W. of Great T., had an imp like a weasel. \"She was offended highly\nwith one H. M.; home she went, and called forth her spirit, which lay in a\npot of woole under her bed: she willed him to go plague the man: he\ninquired what she would give him, and he would kill H. M. She said she\nwould give him a cocke, which she did, and he went, and the man fell sicke\nwith a greate paine in his belly, languished and died; the witch was\narraigned, condemned, and hanged, and did confesse all this.\"\n\nSeven miles hence, at W. B., a man in good health suddenly fell sick,\npined for half a year, and then died. His wife, suspecting evil doings,\nwent to a cunning woman, who showed her in a glass the likeness of the\nwitch who had destroyed him, wearing an old red cap with corners, such as\nwomen were used to wear. The old red-capped woman was taken, tried, soon\nbrought to confess to the bewitching of the man, and executed. But before\nshe died she told them all, how that she had a spirit in the likeness of a\nyellow dun cat, which came to her one night as she sat by the fire nursing\nangry thoughts against a neighbour with whom she had fallen out. She was\nfrightened, she said, but the cat bid her not be afraid, for it had served\nan old dame, that was now dead, for five years down in Kent, and would\nserve her now, an she would. The woman took the cat at its word, and by it\nkilled many a cow and hog of those who angered her: at last she sent it to\nthis man, and the cat killed him. She was hanged, and the yellow dun imp\nwas never more seen.\n\nMr. Giffard knew a church which had been robbed of its communion service:\na wise man told the churchwardens what to do and the thief would surely\nride in all haste to confess. As it proved. Another case was that of a\nchild taken piteously ill. Under the cunning man's advice the father burnt\nits clothes, and while they were burning, the witch came running in,\ngrievously pained. The child was well within two days. A butcher had a\nson, John, terribly afflicted with sores. Salves and plasters would not\nheal him; but when a cunning man showed him in a glass the form of the\nwitch who had laid this harmful thing upon him, and they had cut off some\nof the boy's hair and burnt it, the old woman came to the house in all\nspeed, crying, \"John, John, scratch me!\" So John scratched her till the\nblood came, and his sores all healed of themselves, without salve or\nplaster helping. A woman had blear eyes that were watery; a knave lodging\nat the house wrote a charm which she was always to wear about her neck,\nand never lose or look at. She wore her charm, and her eyes got quite\nwell; but one day, prompted by Eve's sin, she opened the packet, and found\na piece of paper on which was written, in the German tongue, \"The devil\nplucke out thine eyes and fill their holes with dirt.\" Terrified at the\nunholy nature of her cure, the woman flung the charm away, and her eyes\nimmediately became bleared and watery as before.[110] A woman suspected of\nwitchcraft was taken in hand by a gentleman, who undertook to induce her\nto confess. She was very stiff about the matter, and denied all dealings\nwith the devil in any way. Suddenly, at some distance from them, appeared\na weasel or a lobster, looking straight at them. \"Look!\" said the\ngentleman, \"yonder same is thy spirit!\" \"Oh, master,\" said she, \"that is a\nvermine. There be many of them everywhere.\" But as they went towards it,\nthe weasel or lobster vanished clean out of sight. \"Surely,\" said the\ngentleman, \"it is thy spirit.\" But still she denied, \"and with that her\nmouth was drawn all awrie.\" When a little further pressed she allowed all,\nand the gentleman, being no justice, sent her home, exhorting her to go to\na magistrate and ease her soul by confession. As she got home she was met\nby another witch who came violently enraged against her. \"Ah, thou beast!\nwhat hast thou done? thou hast bewrayed us all!\" she said. \"What remedy\nnow?\" said she. \"What remedy?\" saith the other, \"send thy spirit and touch\nhim.\" At that moment the gentleman felt, as it were, a flash of fire about\nhim; but he lifted his hat and prayed, and the spirit came back and said\nit could do him no hurt, because he had faith. So then they sent it\nagainst his child, and the child was taken ill with great pain and died.\nThe witches confessed and were hanged. Another witch had her spirit hidden\nin the boll of a tree; and there she held long conversations with this\nghastly Ariel, he answering in a hollow ghoustie voice, as might be\nexpected. When any offended her, she would go to the tree and release her\nimp to do them harm. She had killed many hogs, horses, and the like by\nthis spirit; but at last justice got hold of her with its mailed hand and\nkilled her. Another friend of Giffard's, also under the disguise of one of\nhis characters, was twice on a jury, when certain old women were charged\nwith harming their neighbours' goods and lives. There was no proof in\neither case, and the old women protested their innocence passionately; but\nthe jury brought them in guilty, which was perfectly logical and right\naccording to their notions of the law of that God who suffers the devil to\ntorment the sons of men, and to delude old women into the possession of\nunholy powers. What, indeed, could be done with them when, by a look or a\nword, they could afflict even unto death the most beautiful of God's\ncreatures, and send the devil to inhabit the purest of souls? The mischief\nlay in the fundamental creed, not so much in the application of it,\nterrible and bloody as it was; and it is against this creed, that I would\nmost earnestly insist. It must be remembered, too, that Giffard writes\nironically, and brings together all these cases as evidence of the\nfoolishness and wickedness of the faith.\n\n\nTHE POSSESSED MAID OF THAMES STREET.[111]\n\nIn 1603, Mary Glover, a merchant's daughter in Thames Street, gave herself\nout as bewitched, and said that Mother Jackson had done it. A little\nglimmering of reason made the physician Dr. Boncraft tell the Lord Chief\nJustice Anderson that Mother Jackson was wrongfully accused, and the girl\nwas counterfeiting. So the Lord Chief Justice caused the Recorder of\nLondon, Sir John Crook, have her to him in his chambers in the Temple. The\nmaid went with her mother and some neighbours, and in an hour's time came\nMother Jackson, disguised like a country market woman, with a muffler\nhiding her face, an old hat, and a short cloak bespattered with mire. As\nsoon as she entered the maid fell backward on the floor; \"her Eyes drawn\ninto her Head, her Tongue toward her Throat, her Mouth drawn up to her\nEar, her Bodie became stiff and senseless, Her Lips being shut closs a\nplain and audible Voice came out from her Nostrils saying 'Hang her, hang\nher.'\" The Recorder, willing to try her, called for a candle at which to\nlight a sheet of paper, then held the burning paper to her hand till a\nblister came, rising and breaking and the water running down on the floor.\nBut still the maid lay as if dead, with the Voice coming out of her\nNostrils, saying, \"Hang her, hang her.\" Not satisfied with the trial of\nburning, the Recorder got a long pin, which he made hot and thrust up her\nnostrils to see if she would \"neese,\" wink, bend her brows, or stir her\nhead; but still she lay as before, stiff, senseless, and as one dead. The\nminister, one Lewis Hughes, who tells this story which Sinclair quotes,\ntold the Recorder that he had often prayed with the maid, and that when\nhe concluded with the Lord's Prayer and came to \"but deliver us from all\nevil,\" the maid would be tost and shaken as a mastiff might shake a cur.\nThen the Recorder bade the witch say the Lord's Prayer, but she could not\nsay it: she kept on all right until the clause \"deliver us from evil,\" and\nthis she skipped over; neither would she confess that Jesus Christ was our\nLord in the Articles of the Christian Faith. When Mary was in her fits, if\nthe witch but so much as laid her hand upon her she was tost and shaken\nfearfully. This the Recorder wished to verify: so he bade first one, then\nanother, of the neighbours come forward and touch her; which they did; but\nshe never stirred till Mother Jackson touched her, when she was shaken as\nbefore. Then the Recorder said, \"Lord, have mercy upon the woman!\" for he\nwas now fully convinced; and sent poor old Mother Jackson off to Newgate.\nAs soon as she was sent off the maid came to herself, the voice ceased out\nof her nostrils, and she went home with her mother. Three weeks or more\nafter the witch was condemned, the maid had the same fits, strange and\nfearful to behold, and the Recorder told the minister, and all the\nministers of London, \"that we might be ashamed to see a Child of God in\nthe Claws of the Devil without any hope of deliverance but by such means\nas God had appointed--Fasting and Prayer.\" Then five ministers, all good\nChristians and sound believers, assembled and prayed from morning to\ncandle-light, when Mary suddenly started out of her chair--they crying\n\"Jesus help, Jesus save!\"--and came up to Lewis Hughes, in a state of\nwildness and dismay. As he stood behind her holding her by the arms, she\nlifted both herself and him off the ground, foaming at the mouth and\nstruggling thus all over the chamber; and then her strength gave way, and\nshe fell as if dead, her head hanging down and her limbs, which had been\nso stiff and frozen, now supple and limber. In a short time her eyes came\nback into their place and her tongue came out of her throat, and she\nlooked round and said cheerfully, \"Oh! he is come, he is come! The\nComforter is come! the Comforter is come! I am delivered, I am delivered!\"\nHer father hearing these words wept and said, \"These were her\ngrandfather's words when he was at the stake, the fire crackling about\nhim,\" for he died a martyr to the Reformed Faith in Queen Mary's time.\nThen she prayed and thanked God till her voice was weak, and so the\ncompany separated, and Mary went home. Afterwards she was put with Lewis\nHughes for a year, lest Satan should assault her again, and Mr. John Swan\nwrote the most canting and nauseating book on her \"case\" that ever fanatic\npenned or the duped and the gulled believed. But poor old Mother Jackson\nwas dead: and those who mourned for her, mourned in secret and silence and\nshame.\n\nThere was another case of possession, this same year--Thomas Harrison, the\nBoy of Norwich--chiefly remarkable for having procured such attention from\nthe ecclesiastical authorities that seven persons were formally licensed\nto have private prayers and fasting for his deliverance. But the bishop\nand commissioners who had seen his fits thought him an impostor, so his\ncase died out for want of public support.[112]\n\nAnd now we have the master of kingcraft on the throne, with his mania\nagainst witches, his private vices, and public follies, treacherous,\ncruel, narrow-minded, and cowardly beyond anything that has ever\ndisgraced the English throne before or since. And one of the first trials\nfor witchcraft during his reign was that disgraceful affair in which\nSomerset and his wife, Foreman, Sir Thomas Overbury, and Mrs. Turner were\nall mixed up together.\n\n\nSWEET FATHER FOREMAN.\n\nThat Carr and Lady Essex should have an intrigue together was not so bad,\nbut that Mrs. Turner should have recourse to charms and conjurations, \"to\ninchant the Viscount's affection towards her,\" that \"much time should be\nspent, many words of witchcraft, great cost in making pictures of wax,\ncrosses of silver, and little babies for that use,\" that specially, there\nshould be among the images of wax, one \"very sumptuously apparrelled in\nsilke and sattin, as alsoe another sitting in forme of a naked woman\nspreading and laying forth her haires in a glass,\" was terrible misdoing\nagainst both God and the king. The murder of Sir Thomas Overbury was\nvenial; the intrigue between his favourite and another man's wife was\nvenial too; his own vices were mere kindly flea-bites on his dignity; but\ncharms and conjurations, and my Lady Essex calling that old wizard Foreman\nher \"sweet father\"--this was more than the British Solomon could well\ndigest. So when he had got tired of Carr and wanted to be rid of him, he\nsuddenly remembered sweet Father Foreman, disciple of Dr. Dee, and Mrs.\nTurner, inventor of yellow starch for ruffs and falling bands, and not\nonly smote Somerset straight in the face for his own share, but sent a\nside shaft after him, through his \"creatures.\" Well for himself was it\nthat sweet Father Foreman was dead and buried deep; so there only remained\nMrs. Turner and one or two inferior agents in the matter--just enough to\nkeep the people amused, and satisfy the royal lust for witch blood.\nSomerset came to the block on another count, about as false as the rest;\nand Mrs. Turner swung from the gibbet in her yellow ruff on every plea but\nthe right one, and for any sin but those of her real and actual life.\nAfter her death was found her black scarf full of white crosses: and the\nmould in which Father Foreman had cast his leaden images of women; and\nwritten charms spread out on fair white parchment; and, worst of all, a\nlist of all the ladies who had gone to consult the sorcerer as to how they\nmight gain the love of other lords than their own; which list the Lord\nChief Justice would not read out in court because, said the gossips, his\nown wife's name was the first that caught his eye.\n\n\nTHE WITCHES OF NORTHAMPTONSHIRE.[113]\n\n\"Of poor parentage, and poor education,\" old Agnes Browne had but a sorry\nlife of it in the little town of Gilsborough where she lived. She had one\ndaughter, Joan Vaughan, or Varnham, \"a maide, or at least unmarried,\" says\nthe old black-letter book maliciously; \"as gratious as the mother, and\nboth of them as farre from grace as Heaven from hell;\" which Joan was \"so\nwell brought up vnder her mother's elbow, that she hangd with her for\ncompany vnder her mother's nose.\" It seems that one day, Joan, being in\nthe company of a certain Mistress Belcher, \"a virtuous and godly\nGentlewoman of the same towne of Gilsborough, whether of purpose to giue\noccasion of anger to the saide Mistris Belcher, or but to continue her\nvilde and ordinary custome of behauiour, committed something either in\nspeech or gesture so vnfitting, and vnseeming the nature of womanhood\"\nthat Mistress Belcher's patience could bear with her no longer. She got\nup, beat Joan Vaughan, and \"forced her to avoid the company.\" Joan went\naway muttering that she would be revenged; to which replied Mrs. Belcher\nstoutly, that she feared neither her nor her mother, and bade her do her\nworst. Then Joan went home to her mother, and both together devised such a\npunishment that Mrs. Belcher was griped and gnawed of her body, her mouth\ndrawn all awry, and in such powerful fits that she could scarce be held,\ncrying out incessantly in her fits, \"Here comes Joane Vaughan, away with\nJoane Vaughan!\" till all the world knew that she was bewitched, and that\nold Agnes Browne and her daughter had caused the trouble. Mistress\nBelcher's brother, one Master Avery, hearing of his sister's sickness and\nextremity, came to see her; and when he saw her, was moved to such anguish\nand indignation that he must needs go to the house of the witches to hale\nthem to his sister, that she might draw their blood. But though he twice\nessayed, he was twice arrested by some miraculous agency, spell-bound, and\nunable to move hand or foot; he could not, by any possibility, advance\nbeyond a certain spot, whereby the witches were safe for this time at\nleast, \"the devil, who was standing sentinel,\" being stronger than he.\nWherefore sorrowfully he turned back, and went home to his own place. But\nthese \"imps of the devil\" had longer arms than he, and in a very short\ntime he was as grievously tormented as his sister, his torments enduring\nuntil the witches were arrested and taken to Northampton gaol. When there,\nnothing would satisfy Mistress Belcher and her brother Master Avery but\nthat they should go to the prison and \"scratch\" the witches; which they\ndid, and both recovered of their pains marvellously on the instant.\n\"Howbeit they were no sooner out of sight, but they fell againe into their\nold traunces, and were more violently tormented than before; for when\nMischiefe is once a foote, she grows in short time so headstrong, that she\nis hardly curbed.\" Mistress Belcher and Master Avery returning home from\nNorthampton in a coach, after their godly exercise of drawing blood from\nthese two wretched women, saw suddenly a man and woman riding both upon a\nblack horse. At which Master Avery cried out that either they or their\nhorses should presently miscarry; and he had no sooner spoken than both\ntheir horses fell down dead. Wherefore, for all these crimes, as well as\nfor bewitching a young child to death, Agnes Browne and her daughter Joan\nwere adjudged guilty, and hanged on that 22nd of July, protesting their\ninnocence to the last. And then it came out that about a fortnight before\nher apprehension Agnes Browne, Katherine Gardiner, and Joan Lucas, \"all\nbirds of a winge,\" had been seen riding on a sow's back to a place called\nRavenstrop, to see one Mother Rhoades, an old witch that dwelt there. But\nbefore they got there old Mother Rhoades had died, \"and in her last cast\ncried out that there were three of her old friends comming to see her, but\nthey came too late. Howbeit she would meet with them in another place\nwithin a month after. And thus much concerning Agnes Browne and her\ndaughter Joane Vaughan,\" says the old black-letter book contemptuously.\n\nThe son of witches, Arthur Bill could not control his appointed fate.\nSuspected by the authorities, but without proof, he and his father and\nmother were swum for trial, tied cross bound and flung into the water,\nwhere they floated and did not sink. Arthur was accused of bewitching to\nher death one Martha Aspine, as also of having bewitched sundry cattle;\nand as the parents had a bad name, it was thought best to try them all.\nAfter this trial of the water, Arthur was afraid, says the black-letter\nbook, lest his father should relent and betray him and them all; whereupon\nhe sent for his mother, and both together bewitched a round ball into his\nfather's throat, so that he could not speak a word. When the ball was got\nout, the father proved the principal witness against them. The poor\nmother, who seems to have been a loving, sensitive, downcast woman,\nfainted many times during this terrible period; \"Many times complaining to\nher spirit,\" says the bitter, uncharitable, anonymous author, \"that the\npower of the Law would bee stronger than the power of her art, and that\nshee saw no other likelihood but that shee should be hanged as her Sonne\nwas like to bee: To whom her spirit answered, giuing this sorry comfort,\nthat shee should not bee hanged, but to preuent that shee should cut her\nowne throatt. Shee, hearing this sentence and holding it definitive, in\ngreat agony and horror of minde and conscience fell a rauing, crying out\nthat the irreuocable Iudgement of her death was giuen, and that shee was\ndamned perpetually; cursing and banning the time wherein shee was borne,\nand the houre wherein shee was conceiued.\" A short time after \"shee made\ngood the Deuil's worde, and to preuent the Iustice of the Law, and to\nsaue the hangman a labour, cut her owne throate.\" The poor boy was in\ngreat misery when he heard of his mother's death, and knew now that what\ndespair had done for her, the tyranny of superstition would do for him;\nyet \"he stood out stiffly for his innocence,\" and when found guilty, broke\nout into grievous cries, saying that he had now found the Law to have a\npower above Justice, for that it had condemned an Innocent. At the gallows\nhe said the same thing, refusing to confess to Martha Aspine's murder, and\n\"thus with a dissembling Tongue, and a corrupted conscience, hee ended his\ncourse in this world, with little hope or respect (as it seemed) of the\nworld to come.\" What became of his three familiars, Grissil, Ball, and\nJack, we are not informed, neither of what forms or functions they were,\nnor of what colours or dimensions.\n\nGrievously did Mistress Moulsho offend Ellen Jenkinson, when she caused\nher to be searched for witch-marks, which of course were found; for\nHelen's character was notorious, and there is no smoke without a little\nfire. So Helen, in revenge, played Mistress Moulsho a trick that brought\nherself to the gallows. For \"at that time Mistris Moulsho had a Bucke of\nclothes to be washt out. The next morning, the Mayd, when shee came to\nhang them forth to dry, spyed the Cloathes, but especially Mistris\nMoulsho's Smocke, to bee all bespotted with the pictures of Toades,\nSnakes, and other ougly Creatures, which making her agast, she went\npresently and told her mistris, who, looking on them, smild, saying\nnothing else but this: 'Here are fine Hobgoblins indeede.' And being a\nGentlewoman of a stout courage, went immediately to the house of the sayd\nHellen Ienkinson, and with an angry countenance told her of this matter,\nthreatening her that if her Linnen were not shortly cleered from those\nfoule spots shee would scratch out both her eyes; and so not staying for\nany answere, went home and found her linnen as white as it was at first.\"\nHelen was soon after arraigned for the death of a child, by witchcraft,\nbut this story of Mrs. Moulsho's clothes all bespotted with the figures of\ntoads and snakes stood in the stead of any more rational evidence. When\nfound guilty, the poor creature cried out, \"Woe is me, I now cast away!\"\nAnd when at the place of execution, she \"made no other Confession but\nthis. That shee was guiltlesse, and neuer shewed signe of Contrition for\nwhat was past, nor any sorrow at all, more than did accompany the feare of\ndeath. Thus ended this Woman her miserable life, after shee had lived many\nyeares poore, wretched, scorned, and forsaken of the world.\"\n\nOf Mary Barber, the last of the sad crew hanged at Northampton on those\nbloody assizes, the author gives no special account, but plenty of abuse,\nmixed up with the strangely cruel and immoral morality of the day. He says\nthat \"as shee was of meane Parents, so was she monstrous and hideous both\nin her life and actions. Her education and barbarous Nature neuer\npromising to the world anything but what was rude, violent, and without\nany hope of proportion more than only in the square of uitiousnesse. For\nout of the oblyuion and blindnesse of her seduced senses, she gaue way to\nall the passionate and earthly faculties of the flesh, and followed all\nthe Fantazmas Vanities and Chimeras of her polluted and vnreasonable\ndelights, forsaking the Society of Grace, and growing enamored vpon all\nthe euill that Malice or Frenzy could minister to her vicious desires and\nintendments.\" She was put in prison on the charge of bewitching a man to\ndeath, but \"the prison (which makes men bee fellowes and chambermates with\ntheeves and murtherers) the common guests of such dispised Innes, and\nshould cause the Imprisoned Party (like a Christian Arithmetician) to\nnumber and cast vp the amount of his own Life, neuer put her in minde of\nthe hatefull transgressions shee had committed, and to consider the filth\nand leprosie of her soule, and intreate heaven's mercy for the release\nthereof. Prison put her not in minde of her graue, nor the grates and\nlockes put her in remembrance of hell, which depriued her of the ioy of\nliberty, which shee saw others possesse. The iangling of irons did not put\nher in minde of the chaines wherewith shee should be bound in eternall\ntorments, vnlesse heaven's mercy vnloosed them, nor of the howling terrors\nand gnashing of teeth which in hel euery soule shall receiue for the\nparticular offences committed in this life, without vnfained and hearty\ncontrition. Shee neuer remembered or thought shee must die, or trembled\nfor feare of what should come to her after death. But as her use was\nalwaies knowne to be deuilish, so her death was at last found to be\ndesperate. For shee (and the rest before named) being brought from the\ncommon gaole of Northampton to Northampton Castle, where the Assizes are\nvsually held, were seuerally arraigned and indited for the offences they\nhad formerly committed, but to the inditement they pleaded not guilty.\nPutting therefore their causes to the triall of the Countrey, they were\nfound guilty, and deserved death by the verdit of a credible Iury\nreturned. So without any confession or contrition, like birds of a feather\nthey all held and hangd together for company at Abington gallowes hard by\nNorthampton the two and twintieth day of Iuly last past; Leauing behinde\nthem in prison many others tainted with the same corruption, who without\nmuch mercy and repentance are likely to follow them in the same tract of\nPrecedencie.\"\n\n\nTHE WITCHES OF LANCASHIRE.[114]\n\nIn Pendle Forest, a wild tract of land on the borders of Yorkshire, lived\nan old woman about the age of fourscore, who had been a witch for fifty\nyears, and had brought up her own children, and instructed her\ngrandchildren, to be witches. \"She was a generall agent for the Deuill in\nall these partes;\" her name was Elizabeth Southernes, usually called\nMother Demdike; the date of her arraignment 1612. She was the first tried\nof this celebrated \"coven,\" twenty of whom stood before Sir James Altham\nand Sir Edward Bromley, charged with all the crimes lying in sorcery,\nmagic, and witchcraft. Old Mother Demdike died in prison before her trial,\nbut on her being taken before the magistrate who convicted them all, Roger\nNowell, Esq., she made such a confession as effectually insured her due\nshare of execration, and hedged in the consciences of all who had assailed\nher from any possible pangs of self-reproach or doubt.\n\nAbout fifty years ago, she said, she was returning home from begging,\nwhen, near a stone pit in the Pendle Forest, she met a spirit or devil in\nthe shape of a boy, with one half of his coat brown and the other half\nblack, who said to her, if she would give him her soul, she should have\nall that she might desire. After a little further talk, during which he\ntold her that his name was Tibb, he vanished away, and she saw him no more\nfor this time. For five or six years Mother Demdike never asked any kind\nof help or harm of Tibb, who always came to her at \"daylight gate\"\n(twilight); but one Sabbath morning, she having her little child on her\nknee, and being in a light slumber, Tibb came to her in the likeness of a\nbrown dog, and forced himself on her knee, trying to get blood from under\nher left arm. Mother Demdike awoke sore troubled and amazed, and strove to\nsay, \"Jesus, save my child,\" but could not, neither could she say, \"Jesus,\nsave myself.\" In a short time the brown dog vanished away, and she was\n\"almost starke madde for the space of eight weekes.\" She and Tibb had\nnever done much harm, she said; not even to Richard Baldwin, for all that\nhe had put them off his land, and taken her daughter's day's work at his\nmill without fee or reward, and when she, led by her grandchild Alison\n(for she was quite blind), went to ask for pay, gave them only hard words\nand insolence for their pains, saying, \"he would burn the one, and hang\nthe other,\" and bidding them begone for a couple of witches--and worse.\nShe confessed though, after a little pressing, that at that moment Tibb\ncalled out to her, \"Revenge thee of him!\" to whom she answered, \"Revenge\nthou either of him or his!\" on which he vanished away, and she saw him no\nmore. She would not say what was the vengeance done, or if any. But if she\nwas silent, and not prone to confession, there were others, and those of\nher own blood, not so reticent. Elizabeth Device her daughter, and Alison\nand James and Jennet Device, her grandchildren, testified against her and\neach other in a wonderful manner, and filled up all the blanks in the\nmost masterly and graphic style.\n\nAlison said that her grandmother had seduced her to the service of the\ndevil, by giving her a great black dog as her imp or spirit, with which\ndog she had lamed one John Law, a petit chapman or pedlar, as he was going\nthrough Colnefield with his pack at his back. Alison wanted to buy pins of\nhim, but John Law refused to loose his pack or sell them to her; so Alison\nin a rage called for her black dog, to see if revenge could not do what\nfair words had failed in. When the black dog came he said, \"What wouldst\nthou have me to do with yonder man?\" To whom she answered, \"What canst\nthou do at him?\" and the dog answered again, \"I can lame him.\" \"Lame him,\"\nsays Alison Device; and before the pedlar went forty yards he fell lame.\nWhen questioned, he, on his side, said, that as he was going through\nColnefield he met a big black dog with very fearful fiery eyes, great\nteeth, and a terrible countenance, which looked at him steadily then\npassed away; and immediately after he was bewitched into lameness and\ndeformity. And this took place after having met Alison Device and refused\nto sell her any pins. Then Alison fell to weeping and praying, beseeching\nGod and that worshipful company to pardon her sins. She said further that\nher grandmother had bewitched John Nutter's cow to death, and Richard\nBaldwin's woman-child on account of the quarrel before reported, saying\nthat she would pray for Baldwin himself, \"both still and loud,\" and that\nshe was always after some matter of devilry and enchantment, if not for\nthe bad of others then for the good of herself. For once, Alison got a\npiggin full of blue milk by begging, and when she came to look into it,\nshe found a quarter of a pound of butter there, which was not there\nbefore, and which she verily believed old Mother Demdike had procured by\nher enchantments. Then Alison turned against the rival Hecate, Anne\nWhittle, _alias_ Chattox, between whom and her family raged a deadly feud\nwith Mother Demdike and her family; accusing her of having bewitched her\nfather, John Device, to death, because he had neglected to pay her the\nyearly tax of an aghen dole (eight pounds) of meal, which he had\ncovenanted to give her on consideration that she would not harm him. For\nthey had been robbed, these poor people, of a quarter of a peck of cut\noatmeal and linens worth some twenty shillings, and they had found a coif\nand band belonging to them on Anne Whittle's daughter; so John Device was\nafraid that old Chattox would do them some grievous injury by her\nsorceries if they cried out about it, therefore made that covenant for the\naghen dole of meal, the non-payment of which for one year set Chattox free\nfrom her side of the bargain and cost John's life. She said, too, that\nChattox had bewitched sundry persons and cattle, killing John Nutter's cow\nbecause he, John Nutter, had kicked over her canfull of milk, misliking\nher devilish way of placing two sticks across it; and slaying Anne Nutter\nbecause she laughed and mocked at her; slaying John Morris' child, too, by\na picture of clay--with other misdeeds to be hereafter verified and\nsubstantiated. So Alison Device was hanged, weeping bitterly, and very\npenitent.\n\nJames Device, her brother, testified to meeting a brown dog coming from\nhis grandmother's about a month ago, and to hearing a noise as of a number\nof children shrieking and crying, \"near daylight gate.\" Another time he\nheard a foul yelling as of a multitude of cats, and soon after this there\ncame into his bed a thing like a cat or a hare, and coloured black, which\nlay heavily on him for about an hour. He said that his sister Alison had\nbewitched Bullock's child, and that old Mother Chattox had dug up three\nskulls, and taken out eight teeth, four of which she kept for herself and\ngave four to Mother Demdike; and that Demdike had made a picture of clay\nof Anne Nutter, and had burned it, by which the said Anne had been\nbewitched to death. Also she had bewitched to death one Mitton, because he\nwould not give her a penny; with other iniquities of the same sort. He\nsaid that his mother, Elizabeth Device, had a spirit like a brown dog\ncalled Ball, and that they all met at Malking Tower; all the witches of\nPendle--and they were not a few--going out in their own shapes, and\nfinding foals of different colours ready for their riding when they got\nout: Jennet Preston was the last: when they all vanished. He then\nconfessed, for his own part, that his grandmother Demdike told him not to\neat the communion bread one day when he went to church, but to give it to\nthe first thing he met on the road on his way homewards. He did not obey\nher, but ate the bread as a good Christian should; and on the way he met\nwith a thing like a hare which asked him for the bread; but he said he had\nnot got it; whereupon the hare got very angry and threatened to tear him\nin pieces, but James \"sained\" himself, and the devil vanished. This,\nrepeated in various forms, was about the pith of what James Device\nconfessed, his confession not including any remarkable betrayal of\nhimself, or admission of any practical and positive evil. His young sister\nJennet, a little lassie of nine, supplied the deficiencies. She had\nevidently been suborned, says Wright, and gave evidence enough to have\nhanged half Lancashire. She said that James had sold himself to the devil,\nand that his spirit was a black dog called Dandy, by whom he had bewitched\nmany people to death; and she confirmed what he had said of Jennet\nPreston's spirit, which was a white foal with a black spot in its\nforehead. And then she said that she had seen the witches' meetings, but\nhad taken no part in them; and that on Good Friday they had all dined off\na roasted wether which James had stolen from Christian Swyers; and that\nJohn Bulcocke turned the spit. She said that her mother Elizabeth had\ntaught her two prayers, the one to get drink and the other to cure the\nbewitched. The one to get drink was a very short one, simply--\"Crucifixus,\nhoc signum vitam eternam, Amen;\" but this would bring good drink into the\nhouse in a very strange manner. The other, the prayer to cure the\nbewitched, was longer:--\n\n  \"Vpon Good Friday, I will fast while I may,\n  Vntill I heare them knell,\n  Our Lord's owne Bell,\n  Lord in his messe\n  With his twelve Apostles good,\n  What hath he in his hand?\n  Ligh in[115] Leath[116] wand:\n  What hath he in his other hand?\n  Heauen's doore key.\n  Open, open, Heauen doore keyes,\n  Steck, steck, hell doore.\n  Let Crizum[117] child\n  Go to it Mother mild.\n  What is yonder that casts a light so farrandly?[118]\n  Mine owne deare Sone that's nail'd to the Tree,\n  He is nail'd sore by the heart and hand,\n  And holy harne Panne.[119]\n  Well is that man\n  That Fryday spell can,\n  His Childe to learne\n  A Crosse of Blewe, and another of Red,\n  As good Lord was to the Roode.\n  Gabriel laid him downe to sleepe\n  Vpon the grounde[120] of holy weepe;\n  Good Lord came walking by,\n  Sleep'st thou, wak'st thou, Gabriel?\n  No, Lord, I am sted with stick and stake,\n  That I can neither sleepe nor wake:\n  Rise vp, Gabriel, and goe with me,\n  The stick nor the stake shall neuer deere[121] thee,\n  Sweete Jesus our Lorde. Amen.\"\n\n\nOn such conclusive testimony as this, and for such fearful crimes, James\nDevice was condemned for \"as dangerous and malicious a witch as ever lived\nin these parts of Lancashire, of his time, and spotted with as much\nInnocent bloud as euer any witch of his yeares.\" Poor lad!\n\n\"O Barbarous and inhumane Monster, beyond example; so farre from sensible\nvnderstanding of thy owne miserie as to bring thy owne naturall children\ninto mischiefe and bondage, and thyselfe to be a witnesse vpone the\ngallowes, to see thy owne children, by thy deuillish instructions, hatcht\nvp in villanie and witchcraft, to suffer with thee, euen in the beginning\nof their time, a shamefull and untimely Death!\" These are the words which\nThomas Potts addresses to Elizabeth Device, widow of John the bewitched,\ndaughter to old Demdike the \"rankest hag that ever troubled daylight,\"\nand mother of Alison and James the confessing witches; mother, also, of\nyoung Jennet of nine, their accuser and hers, by whose testimony she was\nmainly condemned. Elizabeth was charged with having bewitched sundry\npeople to death, by means and aid of her spirit, the brown dog Ball,\nspoken of by James; also she had gone to the Sabbath held at Malking\nTower, where they had assembled to consult how they could get old Mother\nDemdike, their leader, out of prison, by killing her gaoler and blowing up\nthe castle, and where they had beef and bacon and roasted mutton--the\nmutton that same wether of Christopher Swyers' of Barley, which James had\nstolen and killed; with other things as damnable and insignificant. So\nElizabeth Device, \"this odious witch, who was branded with a preposterous\nmarke in Nature even from her Birth, which was her left Eye standing lower\nthan the other, the one looking down the other looking up,\" was condemned\nto die because she was poor and ugly, and had a little lying jade for a\ndaughter, who made up fine stories for the gentlefolks.\n\nAnne Whittle, _alias_ Chattox, was next in influence, power, and age to\nMother Demdike, and she began her confession by saying that old Demdike\nhad originally seduced her by giving her the devil in the shape and\nproportion of a man, who got her, body and soul, and sucked on her left\nribs, and was called Fancie. Afterwards she had another spirit like a\nspotted bitch, called Tibbe, who gave them all to eat and to drink, and\nsaid they should have gold and silver as much as they wanted. But they\nnever got the gold and silver at all, and what they ate and drank did not\nsatisfy them. \"This Anne Whittle, _alias_ Chattox, was a very old\nwithered, spent, decrepid creature, her Sight almost gone; A dangerous\nWitch of very long continuance; always opposite to old Demdike; For whom\nthe one fauoured the other hated deadly: and how they curse and accuse one\nan other in their Examinations may appear. In her Witchcraft always more\nready to doe mischiefe to men's goods than themselves; Her lippes ever\nchattering and talking; but no man knew what. She lived in the Forrest of\nPendle amongst this wicked Company of dangerous Witches. Yet in her\nExamination and Confession she dealt always very plainely and truely; for\nvpon a speciall occasion, being oftentimes examined in open Court, she was\nneuer found to vary, but alwayes to agree in one and the selfe same thing.\nI place her in order next to that wicked Firebrand of mischiefe, old\nDemdike, because from these two sprung all the rest in order; and even the\nChildren and Friendes of these two notorious Witches.\"\n\nNothing special or very graphic was elicited about old Chattox. She had\ncertainly bewitched to death sundry of the neighbourhood, lately deceased;\nbut then they all did that; and her devil, Fancie, came to her in various\nshapes--sometimes like a bear, gaping as though he would worry her, which\nwas not a pleasant manner of fulfilling his contract--but generally as a\nman, in whom she took great delight. She confessed to a charm for blessing\nforespoken drink; which she had chanted for John Moore's wife, she said,\nwhose beer had been spoilt by Mother Demdike or some of her crew:--\n\n  \"Three Biters hast thou bitten,\n    The Hart, ill Eye, ill Tonge;\n  Three Bitter shall be thy boote,\n    Father, Sonne, and Holy Ghost,\n    a God's Name\n  Fiue Paternosters, fiue Auies,\n    and a Creede,\n  For worship of fiue woundes\n    of our Lord.\"\n\nOf course there was no help or hope for old Chattox if she said such\nwicked things as these. The righteous justice of England must be\nsatisfied, and Anne Whittle was hung--one of the twelve who sorrowed the\nsunlight in Lancaster on that bloody assize.\n\nHer daughter, Ann Redfearne, was then taken, accused of making pictures of\nclay and other maleficent arts; and she, too, was hanged; and then\nwell-born, well-bred, but unfortunate Alice Nutter--a gentlewoman of\nfortune living at Rough Lee, whose relatives were anxious for her death\nthat they might come into some property, out of which she kept them while\nliving, and between whom and Mr. Justice Nowell there was a long-standing\ngrudge on the question of a boundary-line between their several\nproperties--Alice Nutter, whom one would have thought far removed from any\nsuch possibility, was accused by young Jennet of complicity and\ncompanionship, and put upon her trial with but a faint chance of escape\nbehind her. For Elizabeth Device swore that she had joined with her and\nold Demdike in bewitching the man Mitton, because of that twopence so\nfatally refused; and young Jennet swore that she was one of the party who\nwent on many-coloured foals to the great witch meeting at Malking Tower;\nand so poor Alice Nutter, of Rough Lee, the well-born, well-bred\ngentlewoman, was hanged with the rest of that ragged crew; and her\nrelations stood in her place, quite satisfied with their dexterity.\n\nThen there was Katherine Hewitt, _alias_ Mouldheels, accused by James\nDevice, who seemed to think that if he had to be hanged for nothing he\nwould be hanged in brave company, and, by sharing with as many as could be\nfound, lessen the obloquy he could not escape; and John Bulcocke, who\nturned the spit, and Jane his mother, for the same crimes and on the same\ntestimony; for the added crime, too, of helping in the bewitching of\nMaster Leslie, about which nefarious deed other hands were also busy; and\nMargaret Pearson, delated by Chattox as entertaining a man spirit\ncloven-footed, with whom she went by a loophole into Dodson's stable, and\nsat all night, on his mare until it died. She was also accused by Jennet\nBooth, who went into her house and begged some milk for her child;\nMargaret good-naturedly gave her some, and boiled it in a pan, but all her\nreward was, that Jennet accused her of witchcraft, for there was, said\nshe, a toad, or something very like a toad, at the bottom of the pan when\nthe milk was boiled, which Margaret took up with a pair of tongs and\ncarried out of the house. Of course the toad was an imp, and Jennet Booth\nwas quite right to repay an act of neighbourly generosity by accusation\nand slander. Margaret got off with standing in the pillory in open market,\nat four market towns on four market days, bearing a paper on her head\nsetting forth her offence written in great letters, about which there\ncould be no mistake; after which she was to confess, and afterwards be\ntaken to prison, where she was to lie for a year, and then be only\nreleased when good and responsible sureties would come forward to answer\nfor her good behaviour.\n\nAnd there was Isabel Roby, who bewitched Peter Chaddock for jilting her,\nand in the spirit pinched and buffeted Jane Williams, so that she fell\nsick with the impression of a thumb and four fingers on her thigh; and\nJennet Preston, she who had the white foal spirit, and who was afterwards\nhung at York for the murder of Master Thomas Lister--for Master Thomas in\nhis last illness had been for ever crying out that Jennet Preston was\nlying on him, and when she was brought to see the body it gushed out fresh\nblood on her, which settled all doubts, if haply there had been any. So\nthe famous trial of the Pendle Witches came to an end; and of the twenty\nwho were accused twelve were hanged while the rest escaped only for the\npresent, many of them meeting with their doom a few years afterwards.\n\n\nGRACE SOWERBUTS AND THE PRIESTS.[122]\n\nAt the same time and place, namely, \"at the Assizes and Generall\nGaole-delivery, holden at Lancaster, before Sir Edward Bromley,\" old\nJennet Bierly, Ellen Bierly her daughter-in-law, and Jane Southworth, were\naccused by Grace Sowerbuts of bewitching her, so that her \"bodie wasted\nand was consumed.\" Grace was fourteen years old--a very ripe time for\nbewitchment and possession--and her evidence ran that for some years past\nshe had been fearfully tormented by these women, for that \"they did\nviolently draw her by the Haire of the Head, and layd her on the toppe of\na Hay-mowe;\" and that Jennet Bierly appeared to her, first under her own\nshape and form, then as a black dog, and that as she was going over a\nstyle \"she picked her off,\" but did not hurt her much, for soon she was\nenabled to rouse herself up, and go on her way without any great damage.\nBut often the women came to her as black dogs, tempting her to cast\nherself into the water, or dragging her into the hay-loft where they\ncovered her with hay on her head and with straw on her body, they, the\nblack dogs, lying on the top of the straw till they took away all sense\nand feeling and she knew not where she was; and oft they \"carried her\nwhere they met black things like men that danced with them and did abuse\ntheir bodies, and they brought her to one Thomas Walsham's House in the\nNight, and there they killed his Child, by putting a Nail into the Navil,\nand after took it forth of the Grave, and did boil it, and eat some of it,\nand made Oyl of the bones; and such like horrid lies,\" says honest\nWebster, indignantly. But fortunately for the three accused, Grace\nSowerbuts was a popish pet, and suspected of decided papistical leanings;\nand it was said that she was put up to all this by one Thomson, a popish\npriest, whose real name was Southworth, and who was a relation of old Sir\nJohn Southworth the great popish lord of the district; to whom also Jane,\none of the accused, was a near relative, but a hated enemy, as is often\nthe case--Sir John having been known to ride miles round to avoid passing\nby her house. Jane Southworth was a Protestant and a convert, therefore\nlikely to receive the protection of public opinion in those parts; likely,\ntoo, to be doubly hated by her relative, first for herself, and secondly\nfor her apostacy. So Grace Sowerbuts, an excitable young maid with but a\nslender regard to truth, was hit upon as the person best fitted to carry\nconfusion into the enemy's camp, and it was resolved to prove her\nbewitched by the devilish arts of the two Bierlys and the popish recusant.\nBut Sir Edward Bromley, who cared nothing for the protestations of the\nPendle witches, and hung every one of them with the most placid belief\nthat he was doing a just and righteous work, gave a very different\ncountenance to these Samesbury witches, all of whom would have been strung\nup like dogs had not the taint of papistry rested on Grace and her\nsupporters. Leading her quietly to a denial of all she had asserted, Sir\nEdward got her to confess that she was an impostor, and that every article\nof her accusation was a lie and a fallacy from beginning to end. She had\nnever known nor seen any devils; she had never been cast upon the henroof\nnor upon the hay-mow, but when she was found there she had gone of her own\naccord, and had covered herself with hay and straw to better prove the\nwitches' despite against her; she knew nothing of any child done to death\nby nails in its body; and all that she had said about the bones, and the\noil, and the tender flesh roasted at the fire, was as false as the rest.\nShe had never been possessed, but had flung herself into these fits by her\nown will and independent power; and what she did in them was a mere trick,\nwhich she could show their worships if they liked. In short, Grace\nSowerbuts was forced to play the losing game in as masterly a manner as\nmight be, and to own herself a cheat and an impostor while yet there was\ntime for pardon. So the three Samesbury witches got off with a stern\nexhortation from the judge, who scarcely seemed to relish the release of\neven Protestant witches delated by papistical accusers.\n\n\nMARY AND HER CATS.[123]\n\nMary Smith of Lynn, wife of Henry Smith, glover, was envious of her\nneighbours for their greater skill in making cheese: in the midst of her\ndiscontents, and while her mind, by its passion and evil thoughts, was in\na fit condition for the devil to enter therein, Satan came to her as a\nblack man, provoking her in a \"lowe murmuring and hissing Voyce,\" to\nforsake God and follow him; to which she \"condescended\" in express terms.\nThe devil then constantly appeared to her--sometimes as a mist; sometimes\nas a ball of fire, with dispersed spangles of black; but chiefly as a\nblack man; and sometimes as a horned man, in which shape he came to her\nwhen in prison. Mary was a good hand at banning. She cursed John Orkton,\nand wished his fingers might rot off, and they did so; she cursed\nElizabeth Hancock, whom she accused of stealing her hen, wishing that the\nbones might stick in her throat, calling her a \"prowde linny, prowde\nflurts, and shaking the hand bade her go in, for she should repent it;\"\nand incontinently Elizabeth Hancock was taken with a pinching at the\nheart, and sudden weakness of all her body, and fainting fits, and racking\npains, and madness, and raving, so that she tore the hair off her head as\nshe tossed about distracted. Her father went to a wise man, who showed him\nMary Smith's face in a glass, and bade him make a cake according to\ncertain directions, which then he was to lay, half on Bessie's head and\nhalf on her back, and which would infallibly cure her, as she was not ill\nbut bewitched. The father did so, and the daughter mended. Soon after\nthis she married one James Scot, who, having a mortal hatred against Mary\nSmith, killed her cat, and threatened that if his wife had any such fits\nas she had before they married, he would hang Mary Smith without mercy. At\nthis Mary clapped her hands, and cried \"They had killed her cat!\" and the\nnext day Elizabeth had the old nipping round her heart. So James went to\nMary and said he would most certainly take her before the magistrates, if\nshe did not amend her ways and heal his wife at once. Fortunately for Mary\nthe woman got better, and the evil day was staved off for a time. To\nCecily Balye, the maid-servant next door, she sent her cat to sit upon her\nbreast when she slept, in revenge at the maid's sweeping a little dust\nawry; and Cicely gave awful evidence how, through the thin partition which\ndivided them, she used to see Mary Smith adoring her imp in a submissive\nmanner--down on her knees, using strange gestures and uttering many\nmurmuring and broken speeches; and if she had listened, and looked more\nattentively, she might have seen and heard more: \"but she was with the\npresent spectacle so affrighted, that she hurried away in much feare and\ndistemper.\"\n\n\"The fourth endammaged by this Hagge,\" says Roberts, was one Edmund\nNewton. He was a cheesemonger, like herself, and she thought he got the\nbest of the trade; so she, or her imp in her likeness, came to him as he\nwas lying in bed, and \"whisked about his face a wet cloath of very\nloathsome savour; after which he did see one clothed in russet, with a\nlittle bush beard, who told him he was sent to looke vpon his sore legge,\nand would heale it.\" When Newton rose to take a fairer look, he saw that\nthe russet man with a little bush beard had cloven feet, so refused his\noffer of chirurgery. After this Mary was constantly sending her imps to\nhim--a toad and crabs--which crawled about the house, \"which was a shoppe\nplanchered with boords, where his seruants (hee being a shoo maker) did\nworke;\" and one of them took the toad and flung it into the fire, during\nwhich time the witch was grievously tormented. So nothing would serve\nEdmund Newton's turn but he must \"scratch her;\" yet when he strove to do\nso his nails turned like feathers, and he had no power over her, not even\nto raise the skin so much as a nine weeks' old babe might have done. At\nanother time a great water-dog ran over his bed--the chamber door being\nshut--and he fell lame in his hand, and did not recover the use of it\nagain. And then the law interfered, and Mary Smith was brought before the\nmagistrates to answer to the charge of witchcraft--by them committed to\nthe assizes--found guilty by judge and jury--and hanged by the neck till\nshe was dead, as a warning to the time and her own kind. This murder was\ndone 1616.\n\n\nRUTTERKIN.[124]\n\nThe Earl and Countess of Rutland had shown much kindness to the widow Joan\nFlower, and her two daughters Philip and Margaret. Joan and Philip were\nemployed at the castle pretty constantly as charwomen, and Margaret was\ntaken into the castle itself, \"looking both to the poultrey abroad and the\nwashhouse within doores,\" and evidently a great favourite with my Lady,\nwho trusted her much. Their good fortune raised them up a host of\nenemies, as is always the case; and backbiters went with tales to the Lord\nand Lady, saying, \"First, that Ioane Flower the Mother was a monstrous\nmalicious woman, full of oathes, curses, and imprecations, irreligious,\nand, for any thing they saw by her, a plaine Atheist; besides of late days\nher very countenance was estranged, her eyes were fiery and hollow, her\nspeech fell and enuious, her demeanour strange and exoticke, and her\nconuersation sequestered; so that the whole course of her life gaue great\nsuspition that she was a notorious witch, yea some of her neighbours dared\nto affirme that she dealt with familiar Spirits, and terrified them all\nwith curses and threatening of reuenge, if there were neuer so little\ncause of displeasure and vnkindnesse. Concerning Margaret, that she often\nresorted from the Castle to her Mother, bringing such Provision as they\nthought was vnbefitting for a seruant to purloyne, and coming at such\nunseasonable houres, that they could not but coniecture some mischeife\nbetween them, and that their extraordinary ryot and expences tended both\nto rob the Lady, and to maintaine certaine deboist and base company which\nfrequented this Ioane Flower's house the mother, and especially her\nyoungest Daughter. Concerning Philip that she was lewdly transported with\nthe loue of one Th. Simpson, who presumed to say, that she had bewitched\nhim: for he had no power to leaue, and was as he supposed maruellously\naltered both in minde and body, since her acquainted company: these\ncomplaints began many yeares before either their conuiction or publique\napprehension: Notwithstanding such was the honour of this Earle and his\nLady; such was the cunning of this monstrous woman in her obseruation\ntowards them; such was the subtilty of the Diuell to bring his purposes\nto passe; such was the pleasure of God to make tryall of his seruants; and\nsuch was the effect of a damnable womans wit and malitious enuy, that all\nthings were carried away in the smooth Channell of liking and good\nentertainment on euery side, untill the Earle by degrees conceiued some\nmislike against; and so peraduenture estranged himself from that\nfamiliarity and accustomed conferences he was wont to haue with her;\nuntill one Peate offered her some wrong; against whom she complained, but\nfound that my Lord did affect her clamours and malicious information,\nvntill one Mr. Vauasor abandoned her company, as either suspicious of her\nlewd life, or distasted with his oun misliking of such base and poore\nCreatures, whom nobody loued but the Earle's household; vntill the\nCountesse misconceiuing of her daughter Margaret and discovering some\nvndecencies both in her life and neglect of her businesse, discharged her\nfrom lying any more in the Castle, yet gave her 40_s._, a bolster, and a\nmattresse of wooll; commanding her to go home vntill the slacknesse of her\nrepayring to the Castle, as she was wont, did turne her loue and liking\ntoward this honourable Earle and his family into hate and rancor;\nwherevpon despighted to bee so neglected, and exprobated by her neighbours\nfor her Daughters casting out of doores, and other conceiued displeasures,\nshe grew past all shame and womanhood, and many times cursed them all that\nwere the cause of this discontentment, and made her so loathsome to her\nformer familiar friends and beneficial acquaintance.\"\n\nThings being come to this pass, it was not difficult to persuade the Earl\nand his Countess that, when their eldest son Henry, Lord Ross, sickened\nvery strangely, and after a while died,--when their second son Francis\nwas also tortured by a strange sickness--and the Lady Katherine their\ndaughter was in danger of her life \"through extreame maladies and vnusuall\nfits\"--it was all done by Joan Flower's witchcraft, and that the quickest\nway out of their troubles was to arrest the widow and her two daughters\nand see what could be done with them, both by their own confessions and\nthe neighbours' relations. They were arrested accordingly, and carried\nbefore the magistrates where witnesses were not awanting. The first\nevidence given was that of Philip Flower, sister to Margaret, and daughter\nof poor old Joan. On the 4th of February she confessed that her mother and\nsister \"maliced\" the Earl of Rutland, his countess, and their children,\nbecause they were put out of the Castle; wherefore her sister Margaret, by\ndesire of her mother, got Lord Henry's right-hand glove which she found on\nthe rushes in the nursery, and delivered it to Joan, who presently rubbed\nit on the back of her spirit Rutterkin, bidding him \"height and goe and\ndoe some hurt to Henry Lord Rosse,\" then put it into boiling water,\npricking it many times with a knife, and burying it in the yard with a\nwish that Lord Henry might never thrive. Whereupon he fell sick and\nshortly after died. She also said that she often saw the spirit Rutterkin\nleap on her sister Margaret's shoulder and suck her neck, and that her\nmother had often cursed the earl and his lady, and boiled feathers and\nblood together, \"vsing many Deuillish speeches and strange gestures.\" On\nthe 22nd of the same month Margaret was examined, and she also gave no\ntrouble. She confessed that truly she had got Lord Henry's glove, and that\nher mother had done with it in all particulars of stroking Rutterkin's\nback, and putting it into boiling water, and pricking, and burying it,\naccording to the words of Philip; also that some two or three years ago\nshe had found a glove of the Lord Francis', which her mother rubbed on\nRutterkin the cat and bade him go upward, and which, by her incantations\nand sorceries, caused a grievous illness to light on the little nobleman.\nAnd she got a piece of Lady Katherine's handkercher, which her mother put\ninto hot water, \"and then taking it out rubbed it on Rutterkin, bidding\nhim 'flye and go;' whereupon Rutterkin whined and cryed 'Mew,'\" and the\nmother said he had no power over Lady Katherine to hurt her. A few days\nlater both sisters were examined again, when Philip confessed that she had\na spirit which sucked her in the form of a white rat, and which she had\nentertained for the space of two or three years, on condition that it\nshould cause Thomas Simpson to love her; and Margaret allowed that she had\ntwo spirits, one white, the other black-spotted, to whom she had given her\nsoul, they covenanting to do all that she commanded them. Then she rambled\noff into a wild statement of how on the thirtieth of January last, she,\nbeing in Lincoln gaol, four devils appeared to her at eleven or twelve\no'clock at night; the one stood at her bed's foot, and had a black head\nlike an ape, and spake unto her; but what she could not well remember; at\nwhich she was very angry that he would not speak plainer and let her\nunderstand his meaning. She said that the other three were Rutterkin,\nLittle Robin, and Spirit, \"but shee never mistrusted them nor suspected\nherselfe till then.\" This closed the examinations of the two younger\nwomen: for poor old Joan had died on her way to gaol \"with a horrible\nexcruciation of soul and body,\" and so an end was come to of her. But if\nthere was nothing more to be got out of the Flower family, their\nneighbours were not backward to help them with a bad word, when handy.\nAnne Baker, evidently mad, Joan Willimot, and Ellen Greene, were brought\nto say their say in the face of the country and before the county\njustices. Joan Willimott gave evidence that Joan Flower had oftentimes\ncomplained to her of the unfriendly conduct of my Lord of Rutland, in\nturning her daughter out of the house, adding that though she could not\nhave her will of my Lord himself, she had spied his son and stricken him\nto the heart--stricken him with a white spirit, which yet could be cured\nif she so willed. Joan Willimott then \"fyled\" herself for a witch, saying\nthat she had a spirit called Pretty, given to her by her master, William\nBerry of Langholme, in Rutlandshire, whom she had served three years. When\nhe gave it to her, he bade her open her mouth and he would blow into her a\nFairy which should do her good; and she did so; and he blew into her\nmouth, and presently after there came out of her mouth a spirit which\nstood upon the ground in the shape and form of a woman, and asked of her\nher soul--which Joan granted--being willed thereto by her master. She did\nnot own to having ever hurt anyone, but said instead that she had helped\ndivers who had been stricken and forespoken, and that the use she made of\nher spirit was to know how those did whom she had undertaken to mend. She\nsaid, too, that her spirit came to her last night, in the form of a woman\nmumbling something, but she could not understand what; and that she was\nnot asleep, but was as waking as at this present. On another occasion she\nfyled two of her neighbours, saying how Cooke's wife had said that John\nPatchet might have had his child alive, if he had asked for it,\ninsinuating that Cooke's wife had forespoken the said child, and that\nPatchet's wife had an evil thing within her, and she knew it by her\ngirdle. Also that Gamaliel Greete, of Waltham, had a spirit like a white\nmouse put into him in his swearing, and that those on whom he looked with\nintent to hurt were hurt; and that he had a mark on his left arm, which\nhad been cut away; and that her own spirit had told her all this. And that\nshe, and Joan, and Margaret Flower, had met in Blackborrow hill, the week\nbefore Joan's apprehension; and that she had seen in Joan's house two\nspirits, the one like a rat, and the other like an owl, and that one of\nthem had sucked under her left ear--as she thought; and that Joan Flower\nsaid her spirits had informed her she should be neither burnt nor hanged.\n\nOn this same day Ellen Green gave in her account, saying that some six\nyears since Joan Willimott had come to her in the wolds, persuading her to\nforsake God and betake her to the devil, and she would give her two\nspirits: which this Examinate consented unto. Whereupon Joan called two\nspirits, one in the likeness of a \"kittin,\" the other of a \"moldiwarp,\"\nthe first of which was called \"pusse,\" and the second \"hiffe hiffe;\" and\nthey leapt on her shoulder, and sucked her. And that she sent the kittin\nto a baker in the town who had offended her, but whose name she had\nforgotten, and bade it bewitch him to death; and the moldiwarp she\ndespatched to Ann Dawse, for the same purpose and the same offence. And of\nother deaths by the like means did Ellen Green accuse herself; adding that\nJoan Willimott's spirit was in the form of a white dog, and that she had\nseen it suck her in Barley harvest last.\n\nAnd then came mad Ann Baker, who started with informing her audience that\nthere are four colours of planets, black, yellow, green, and blue, and\nthat black is always death, and that she saw the blue planet strike\nWilliam Fairbairn's son, but when William Fairbairn did beat her and break\nher head, his said son Thomas did mend. Yet she sent not the blue planet.\nShe said that she saw a hand appear to her, and a voice in the air say,\n\"Anne Baker, save thyself, for to-morrow thou and thy maister must be\nslain;\" and that the next day, as she and her master were together in a\ncart, suddenly she saw a flash of fire, but when she said her prayers the\nfire went away, and then a crow came and pecked her clothes; whereat she\nsaid her prayers again, and bade the crow go to whom it was sent, \"and the\nCrow went vnto her Maister and did beat him to death, and shee with her\nprayers recouered him to life: but he was sick a fortnight after and saith\nthat if shee had not had more knowledge than her Maister, both he and shee\nand all the Cattell had beene slaine.\" The rest of her confessions turned\nupon the histories of the various deaths and bewitchments with which she\nwas charged, and most of which she denied; saying, that she had merely\nlain Ann Stannidge's child on her skirt, but had done it no harm, and that\nwhen the mother had burnt the little one's hair and nail parings, and she,\nAnn Baker, had gone in to the house in great pain and suffering, she knew\nnothing whatever of this burning, but that she was sick and knew not\nwhither she went. Of the Rutland case all she knew was, that when she came\nback from Northamptonshire, whither she had gone three years ago, two good\nwives had told her that my young Lord Henry was dead, and that there was a\nglove of the said Lord buried underground, and that \"as his glove did rot\nand wast, so did the liver of the young Lord rot and wast;\" and that her\nspirit was a good spirit and in the shape of a white dog. The tract does\nnot inform us what was done with these three wretched women. The two\nFlowers were hanged, the old mother having died as I have said: but\nwhether the untimely death of a sickly lad was revenged by more innocent\nblood than this remains unknown. The death-sacrifices of savages, the\nwitches of Africa, and the Red Indian \"Medicine-men,\" are not so very far\nremoved from our own forefathers that we should quite ignore the likeness\nbetween them and the recent past at home.\n\n\nTHE BOY OF BILSTON.[125]\n\nThe war between Papists and Protestants still went on, and the favourite\nweapon with each was the old one of Possession, and its result--exorcism.\nThe patient in the present case was William Perry, a youth of twelve,\ngenerally called the Boy of Bilston, whom Joan Cock bewitched for the\nbetter showing forth the glory of God and the Church, and to the hurt of\nher own soul and body. One day William Perry met old Joan as he returned\nfrom school, and forbore to give her good time of the day, as a well-bred\nyouth should: whereat the old woman was angry, and called him \"a foul\nthing,\" saying \"that it had been better for him if he had saluted her.\" At\nwhich words the boy felt something prick him to his heart, and when he\ncame home fell into fits of the most demoniac kind. The parents seeing his\nextremity went cap and knee to some Catholics in the neighbourhood, and\nthey, after long solicitation, proceeded to the exorcising. They poured\nholy water and holy oil in goodly quantity upon him, and left supplies of\nboth to be used in their absence. The devil was sore afflicted by the\nholy water and the holy oil, and made the boy cast up pins, and wool, and\nknotted thread, and rosemary leaves, and walnut leaves, and feathers, and\n\"thrums.\" For there were three devils inside him, he said, and they had\nuncommon power. On Corpus Christi day he brought up eleven pins, and a\nknitting needle folded in divers folds; all after extreme fits and\nheavings; and then the spirit told him not to listen to the exorcising\npriest--which was a great compliment from the devil--and that the witch\nhad said she would make an end of him. When told to pray for the witch,\nthe boy and the devils were furious; but afterwards calmed down on the\nexorciser getting extra power; and then the boy prayed his prayer and grew\nbetter. Then he demanded that everything about him should be blessed, and\nthat all his family should be Catholics; but when any Puritans came in, he\nsaid the devil assaulted him in the shape of a black bird. So it was a\nvastly pretty little case of witness and conversion, and the Catholics\nmade the most of it. Joan must now be arrested; for the fits continued,\nand the young gentleman was not to be pacified with anything short of the\nwitch's blood. When brought into his presence the boy had extreme fits,\ncrying out: \"'Now she comes, now my Tormentor comes!' writhing and tearing\nand twisting himself into such Shapes as bred at once Amazement and Pity\nin the Spectators:\" so the old woman was sent to Stafford gaol, but,\nbecause this was a Popish matter, acquitted without long delay. Then the\nBishop of Coventry and Lichfield, desirous of testing the matter, and\nunwilling that the Catholics should take any glory to themselves for their\nholy oils and their anointings which were said to have calmed the most\n\"sounding fits,\" took William Perry home to the Castle, and there had him\nwatched: and watched so well that certain dirty tricks not to be spoken of\nhere were found out, and the physiological part of the \"miracle\" set at\nrest. But before this the Bishop tried the devils with Greek. For they\ncould not abide the first verse of the first chapter of St. John, and\nalways fell on the boy with fury when it was read; so, said the Bishop,\nwhose wits sectarian hatred had sharpened--one bigotry driving out\nanother--\"Boy, it is either thou or the Devil that abhorrest those Words\nof the Gospel: and if it be the Devil (he being so ancient a Scholar, as\nof almost six Thousand Years' standing) knows, and understands all\nLanguages; so that he cannot but know when I recite the same sentence out\nof the Greek Text: But if it be thyself then art thou an execrable Wretch,\nwho plays the Devil's part; wherefore look to thyself, for now thou art to\nbe put to Trial, and mark diligently, whether it be that same Scripture\nwhich shall be read.\" Then was read the twelfth verse of the first\nchapter, at which William, supposing it to be the abhorred first, fell\ninto his customary fits; but when, immediately after, the first verse was\nread, he, supposing it was another, was not moved at all. By which means\nthis part of the fraud was discovered also; and when, moving his eyes and\nstaring about him wildly, he declared that he saw mice running round the\nbed, no one gave any credit to his words. When the whole thing was blown\nto the winds, and the Greek test had failed, and the dirty tricks had been\nfound out, the boy made a pretended confession, which was evidently no\nmore true than anything else had been. He said that one day as he was\ncoming home, an old man called Thomas, with gray hair and a cradle of\nglasses on his shoulders, met him, and after asking him if he went to\nschool and how he liked it, told him that he could teach him a few tricks\nwhich should prevent his going to school any more, and would instead lead\nall people to pity and lament him, holding him to be bewitched. But it was\nshrewdly suspected that the old man Thomas, with his gray hair and cradle\nof glass, was but a pleasant phantasy of the imagination; and that the\nreal secret had lain with the Catholic priests, who, finding the boy apt\nand handy, thought they could make good capital out of him for their\nChurch, and put him forth as a witness for its divine power and holy\noffice, seeing that it could dispossess the demoniac and drive away evil\nspirits. Fortunately they reckoned without their host--the host of\n\"reformed\" bigotry and hatred: for we need not congratulate ourselves on\nany clearsightedness or common sense in the matter. Had the Boy of Bilston\nbeen a sound Protestant, he would have been held as indubitably Possessed\nby the Devil, and some poor wretch would have been found as a convenient\nsacrifice to the stupidity of that devil.\n\n\nMR. FAIRFAX'S FOLLY.\n\nThe next year saw Mr. Fairfax of Knaresborough--Edward Fairfax, the\nscholar, the gentleman, the classic, our best translator of Tasso,\ngraceful, learned, elegant Edward Fairfax--pursuing with incredible zeal\nsix of his neighbours for supposed witchcraft on his children. The\nchildren had fits and were afflicted with imps, so Edward Fairfax thought\nhis paternal duty consisted in getting the lives of six supposed witches,\nthe hanging of whom would infallibly cure his children, and drive away the\nevil spirits possessing them. But fortunately for the accused the judge\nhad more sense than Mr. Fairfax; and, though the women were sent back\nagain for another assize, suffered them to escape with only the terror of\ndeath twice repeated. It is strange to find ourselves face to face with\nsuch stupid bigotry as this in a man so estimable and so refined as\nFairfax.\n\n\nTHE COUNTESS.[126]\n\nLady Jennings and her young daughter Elizabeth, of thirteen, lived at\nThistlewood in the year 1622. One day an old woman, coming no one knew\nwhence, perhaps from the bowels of the earth, appeared suddenly before the\ngirl, demanding a pin. The child was frightened, and had fits soon\nafter--fits of the usual hysteric character, but quite sufficiently severe\nto alarm Lady Jennings. A doctor was sent for; but also, as well as the\ndoctor, came a clever shrewd woman called Margaret Russill, or \"Countess,\"\na bit of a doctress in her way, perhaps a bit of a white witch too, who\nthought she could do the afflicted child some good, and had beside a love\nof putting her fingers into everybody's pie. At the end of one of her fits\nthe child began to cry out wildly, then mentioned Margaret and three\nothers as the persons who had bewitched her. And then she went on,\nincoherently, \"These have bewitched all my mother's children--east, west,\nnorth, and south all these lie--all these are witches. Set up a great\nsprig of rosemary in the middle of the house--I have sent this child to\nspeak, to show all these witches--Put Countess in prison, this child will\nbe well--If she had been long ago, all together had been alive--Them she\nbewitched with a cat-stick--Till then I shall be in great pain--Till\nthen, by fits, I shall be in great extremity--They died in great misery.\"\nNo mother's heart could resist the appeal contained in these wild words;\npoor Countess was arrested, and taken before Mr. Slingsby, a magistrate.\nWhen there she said, though heaven knows what prompted her to tell such\nfalsehoods, \"Yesterday she went to Mrs. Dromondbye in Black-and-White\nCourt, in the Old Baylye; and told her that the Lady Jennings had a\ndaughter strangely sicke, whereuppon the said Dromondbye wished her to goe\nto inquire at Clerkenwell for a minister's wiffe that cold helpe people\nthat were sicke, but she must not aske for a witch or a cunning woman, but\nfor one that is a phisition woman; and then this examinate found her and a\nwoman sitting with her and told her in what case the child was, and shee\nsaid shee wold come this day, but shee ought her noe service, and said\nshee had bin there before and left receiptes there, but the child did not\ntake them. And she said further that there was two children that her Lady\nJennins had by this husband, that were bewitched and dead, for there was\ncontroversie betweene two howses, and that as long as they dwelt there,\nthey cold not prosper, and that there shold be noe blessing in that howse\nby this man.\" When asked what was this \"difference,\" she answered,\n\"Between the house of God and the house of the world:\" but when told that\nthis was no answer, and that she must explain herself more clearly, she\nsaid that \"she meant the apothecary Higgins and my Lady Jennings.\" \"And\nshee further confessed that above a moneth agoe she went to Mrs. Saxey in\nGunpouder Alley, who was forespoken herself, and that had a boke that cold\nhelpe all those that were forespoken, and that shee wold come and shewe\nher the booke and help her under God. And further said to this examinate,\nthat none but a seminary priest cold cure her.\" So here again we have the\nconstantly recurring element of sectarianism, without which, indeed, we\nshould be at a loss how to understand much that meets us. \"Countess\" was\ncommitted to Newgate, and the bewitched child cried out more and more\nagainst her, making new revelations with each fit, when the pitiful farce\nwas brought to a close by the minister's wife, Mrs. Goodcole, who, when\nconfronted with Countess, denied point blank the more important parts of\nher evidence. And then all this evil--this much ado about nothing--was\nfound to have arisen from a private quarrel; and when Dr. Napier was sent\nfor, he unbewitched the possessed child with some very simple remedies,\nand the great balloon burst and fell to the ground in hopeless collapse.\n\n\nTHE TWO VOICES.[127]\n\nOn the 13th of August, 1626, Edward Bull and Joan Greedie were indicted at\nTaunton for bewitching Edward Dinham. Dinham was a capital ventriloquist,\nand could speak in two different voices beside his own, as well as\ncounterfeit fits and play the possessed to the life. One of his two\nfeigned voices was pleasant and shrill, and belonged to a good spirit; the\nother was deadly and hollow, and belonged to an evil spirit. And when he\nspoke his lips did not move, and he lay as if in a trance, and both he and\nthe voices said that he was bewitched, and all the people believed them.\nAnd the good voice asked who had bewitched him, to which the bad replied,\n\"A woman in greene cloathes and a blacke hatt with long poll, and a man\nin gray srite, with blewe stockings.\" When asked where she was now, the\nbad spirit answered, \"At her own house,\" while he was at a tavern in\n\"Yeohull,\" Ireland. Then after some pressing the bad spirit said that the\nname of one was \"Johan,\" of the other \"Edward;\" and after more pressing\nstill, confessed to the surnames, \"Greedie and Bull.\" So in consequence of\nthis reliable report messengers were sent off to find old Joan, and when\nfound arrest her. Then the good spirit, who played the part of a\nbenevolent Pry, asked how these two became witches, to which the bad\nanswered, \"By descent.\" \"But how by descent?\" says the good spirit,\nanxious not to leave a lock unfastened or a problem unsolved. \"From the\ngrandmother to the mother, and from the mother to the children,\" says the\nbad. \"But howe were they soe?\" says Goody. \"They were bound to us and we\nto them,\" answered the bad, with more words than explanation.\n\nGood Spirit--\"Lett me see the bond.\"\n\nBad Spirit--\"Thou shalt not.\"\n\nGood Spirit--\"Lett me see it, and if I like it I will seale it alsoe.\"\n\nBad Spirit--\"Thou shalt, if thou wilt not reveale the contentes thereof.\"\n\nGood Spirit--\"I will not.\"\n\nAt this point it was pretended that a spectral bond was passed from the\nbad to the good ghost; and then broke out the \"sweet and shrill voice\" of\nthe ventriloquist with \"Alas! oh, pittifull, pittifull, pittifull! What!\neight seales? bloody seales! four dead and four alive; oh, miserable!\"\nThen came in the man's natural voice, addressing the spirit: \"Come, come,\nprithee tell me why did they bewitch me?\" Bad Spirit--\"Because thou\ndidst call Johan Greedie witche.\" Man--\"Why, is shee not a witche?\" Bad\nSpirit--\"Yes, but thou shouldst not have said so,\" which was a fine bit of\nworldly policy in the bad ghost. Good Spirit--\"But why did Bull bewitche\nhim?\" Bad--\"Because Greedie was not strong enough.\"\n\nOn this evidence further messengers were sent off for Edward Bull, but\nwhether to Yeohull or not I cannot say. They were disappointed for the\nmoment, for Bull had run away; and then, in a future interview, and to\nfill up the time until braver sport should be provided, the bad and the\ngood spirits had a wrestle for Dinham's soul, which, judging from what\nevidence we have had left us, was not worth the struggle, and would be no\ngreat gain to either party. In the struggle the good spirit speaks Latin.\n\"Laudes, laudes, laudes,\" says he, being well educated and not ashamed.\nBut the bad was, as befitted his nature, churlish and ill-taught, and did\nnot understand his opponent's talk, but translated it into \"ladies,\" which\nmade a laugh among them all. Then they struggled for the Prayer Book; but\nhere again the bad was discomfited, and the man kept the talisman; after\nwhich the good spirit made \"the sweetest musicke that ever was heard.\"\nWhen they set out to catch Bull again, they found him in bed; and now,\nwhen both the Possessors were safe, Dinham was freed and his voices dumb\nfor ever. Perhaps he had caught cold. I do not know the fate of these poor\nwretches, but I should not think it doubtful.\n\nIn 1627 Mr. Rothnell exorcised an evil spirit out of one John Fox; but\nnotwithstanding this John continued dumb for three years after; which was\nrather an unfortunate comment on the exorcism, but not at all likely to\nopen the eyes of any one willing to be blind.\n\n\nTHE SECOND CURSE OF PENDLE.[128]\n\nWe have seen what Lancashire was in sixteen hundred and twelve: it was not\nmuch better twenty-one years later; for in 1633 we find that Pendle Forest\nwas still of bad repute, and that traditions of old Demdike and her rival\nMother Chattox yet floated round the Malkin Tower, and hid, spectre-like,\nin the rough and desert places of the barren waste. Who ever knew of evil\nexample waiting for its followers? What Mothers Demdike and Chattox had\ndone in their day, their children and grandchildren were ready to do after\nthem. The world will never lose its old women, \"toothless, blear-eyed,\nfoul-tongued, malicious,\" for whom love died out and sin came in long\nyears ago; and Edmund Robinson, son of Ned of Roughs, was one of those\nspecially appointed by Providence to bring such evildoers to their reward.\n\nEdmund, then about eleven years of age (how many of these sad stories come\nfrom children and young creatures!), lived with his father in Pendle\nForest; lived poorly enough, but not without some kind of romance and\ninterest; for on the 10th day of February, 1633, he made the following\ndeposition:--\n\n\"Who upon oath informeth, being examined concerning the great meeting of\nthe Witches of Pendle, saith that upon All Saints' Day last past, he, this\nInformer, being with one Henry Parker, a near-door neighbour to him in\nWheatley-lane, desired the said Parker to give him leave to gather some\nBulloes, which he did. In gathering whereof he saw two Grayhounds, viz., a\nblack and a brown one, come running over the next field towards him, he\nverily thinking the one of them to be Mr. Nutter's, and the other to be\nMr. Robinson's, the said Gentlemen then having such like. And saith, the\nsaid Grayhounds came to him, and fawned on him, they having about their\nnecks either of them a Collar, unto each of which was tied a String; which\nCollars (as this Informer affirmeth) did shine like Gold. And he thinking\nthat some either of Mr. Nutters or Mr. Robinsons Family should have\nfollowed them; yet seeing no body to follow them, he took the same\nGrayhounds, thinking to course with them. And presently a Hare did rise\nvery near before him. At the sight whereof he cried Loo, Loo, Loo: but the\nDoggs would not run. Whereupon he being very angry took them, and with the\nstrings that were about their Collars, tied them to a little bush at the\nnext hedge, and with a switch that he had in his hand he beat them. And in\nstead of the black Grayhound, one Dickensons Wife stood up, a Neighbour,\nwhom this Informer knoweth. And in stead of the brown one a little Boy,\nwhom this Informer knoweth not. At which sight this Informer, being\nafraid, endeavoured to run away; but being stayed by the Woman, (viz.) by\nDickensons Wife, she put her hand into her pocket, and pulled forth a\npiece of Silver much like to a fair shilling, and offered to give him it\nto hold his tongue and not to tell; which he refused, saying, Nay, thou\nart a Witch. Whereupon she put her hand into her pocket again, and pulled\nout a thing like unto a Bridle that gingled, which she put on the little\nBoyes head; which said Boy stood up in the likeness of a white Horse, and\nin the brown Grayhounds stead. Then immediately Dickensons wife took this\nInformer before her upon the said Horse and carried him to a new house\ncalled Hoarstones, being about a quarter of a mile off. Whither when they\nwere come, there were divers persons about the door, and he saw divers\nothers riding on Horses of several colours towards the said House, who\ntied their Horses to a hedge near to the said House. Which persons went\ninto the said House, to the number of three score or thereabouts, as this\nInformer thinketh, where they had a fire, and meat roasting in the said\nHouse, whereof a young Woman (whom this Informer knoweth not) gave him\nFlesh and Bread upon a Trencher, and Drink in a Glass, which after the\nfirst taste he refused, and would have no more, but said it was nought.\n\n\"And presently after, seeing divers of the said company going into a Barn\nnear adjoining, he followed after them, and there he saw six of them\nkneeling, and pulling all six of them six several ropes, which were\nfastened or tied to the top of the Barn. Presently after which pulling,\nthere came into this Informers sight flesh smoaking, butter in lumps, and\nmilk as it were syleing (straining) from the said ropes. All which fell\ninto basons which were placed under the said ropes. And after that these\nsix had done, there came other six which did so likewise. And during all\nthe time of their several pulling, they made such ugly faces as scared\nthis Informer, so that he was glad to run out and steal homewards; who\nimmediately finding they wanted one that was in their company, some of\nthem ran after him near to a place in a Highway called Boggard-hole, where\nhe, this Informer, met two Horsemen. At the sight whereof the said persons\nleft following of him. But the foremost of those persons that followed him\nhe knew to be one Loinds Wife; which said Wife, together with one\nDickensons Wife, and one Jennet Davies, he hath seen since at several\ntimes in a Croft or Close adjoining to his Fathers house, which put him in\ngreat fear. And further this Informer saith, upon Thursday after New\nYears Day last past he saw the said Loinds Wife sitting upon a cross piece\nof wood being within the Chimney of his Fathers dwelling-house; and he,\ncalling to her, said, Come down, thou Loynds Wife. And immediately the\nsaid Loynds Wife went up out of his sight. And further this Informer\nsaith, that after he was come from the company aforesaid to his Fathers\nhouse, being towards evening, his Father bad him go and fetch home two\nkine to seal (tie up). And in the way, in a field called the Ellers, he\nchanced to hap upon a Boy, who began to quarrel with him, and they fought\ntogether, till the Informer had his ears and face made up very bloody by\nfighting, and looking down he saw the Boy had a cloven foot. At which\nsight, he being greatly affrighted, came away from him to seek the kine.\nAnd in the way he saw a light like to a Lanthorn, towards which he made\nhaste, supposing it to be carried by some of Mr. Robinson's people; but\nwhen he came to the place he only found a Woman standing on a Bridge,\nwhom, when he saw, he knew her to be Loinds Wife, and knowing her he\nturned back again; and immediately he met the aforesaid Boy, from whom he\noffered to run, which Boy gave him a blow on the back that made him to\ncry. And further this Informer saith, that when he was in the Barn, he saw\nthree Women take six Pictures from off the beam, in which Pictures were\nmany Thorns or such like things sticked in them, and that Loynds Wife took\none of the Pictures down, but the other two Women that took down the rest\nhe knoweth not. And being further asked what persons were at the aforesaid\nmeeting, he nominated these persons following.\" Here follows a list of\nnames of no interest to the modern reader. At the end of this deposition\nis one from the Father.\n\n\"Edmund Robinson of Pendle, Father of the aforesaid Edmund Robinson,\nMason, informeth,\n\n\"That upon All Saints-day last he sent his Son the aforesaid Informer, to\nfetch home two kine to seal, and saith that his Son, staying longer than\nhe thought he should have done, he went to seek him, and in seeking of him\nheard him cry pitifully, and found him so affrighted and distracted that\nhe neither knew his Father nor did know where he was, and so continued\nvery near a quarter of an hour before he came to himself. And he told this\nInformer his Father all the particular passages that are before declared\nin the said Robinson his Son's Information.\n\n  (Signed) \"RICHARD SHUTTLEWORTH.\n           \"JOHN STARKEY.\"\n\n\nWho would dare to doubt such testimony as this? Here was another child of\nGod grievously mishandled; and what might not be done to the servants of\nthe devil who had so evilly intreated him? And was not Edmund Robinson\nevidently raised up and directed by God to be the scourge of all witches,\nand the great discoverer of their naughty pranks? So the lad was elevated\nto the post of witch-finder, and was taken about from church to\nchurch--accusing any who might strike his fancy or his fears, and sending\nthem off to prison at the impulse of his childish will. Among other places\nhe was brought to the parish church of Kildwick, where Webster was then\ncurate. It was during the afternoon service, and the lad was put upon a\nstall to look the better about him, and discern the witches more clearly.\nAfter service Webster went to him and found him with \"two very unlikely\npersons that did conduct him and manage the business:\" the curate of\nKildwick would have drawn him aside, but the men would not suffer this.\nThen said Webster, \"'Good boy, tell me truly and in earnest, didst thou\nhear and see such strange things of the meeting of witches as is reported\nby many that thou dost relate, or did some person teach thee to say such\nthings of thyself?' But the two men, not giving the boy leave to answer,\ndid pluck him from me, and said he had been examined by two able Justices\nof the Peace, and they did never ask him such a question; to whom I\nreplied, 'The persons accused had therefore the more wrong.'\" So Webster\ngot nothing by this, and the boy was not damaged nor his credit shaken.\nVery many persons were arrested on this young imp's accusations, beside\nthose seventeen whom he had seen \"syleing\" butter and bacon from\nwitch-ropes in the magic barn. And among the rest Jennet Device, (was she\nour old acquaintance of perjured memory?) who was charged with killing\nIsabelle, the wife of William Nutter; and Mary Spencer, who was in\nimminent danger for having \"caused a pale or cellocke to come to her, full\nof water, fourteen yards up a hill from a well;\" and Margaret Johnson,\naccused of killing Henry Heape, and wasting and impairing the body of\nJennet Shackleton--but there was no proof against her, save certain witch\nmarks, which, however, were indisputable, and on the finding of which she\nwas soon brought to confess. She said that, seven or eight years since,\nshe was in a mighty rage against life and the world in general, when there\nappeared to her the devil like a man, dressed all in black tied about with\nsilk points, who offered her all she might wish or want in return for her\nsoul; telling her that she might kill man or beast as she should desire,\nand take her revenge when she would; and that if she did but call\n\"Mamillion\" when she wanted him, he would come on the instant and do as he\nwas bid. So \"after a sollicitacion or two, she contracted and condicioned\nwith the said devill or spiritt for her soul,\" and henceforth became one\nof the most notorious of the Lancashire witches. She confessed that she\nwas at the great witch-meeting held at Harestones, in Pendle, on All\nSaints'-day last past, and again at another the Sunday after; and that all\nthe witches rode there on horses, and went to consult on the killing of\nmen and beasts; and that \"there was one devill or spiritt that was more\ngreate and grand devill than the rest, and yf anie witch desired to have\nsuch an one, they might have such an one to kill or hurt anie body.\" She\nsaid, too, which was a new idea on her part, that the sharp-boned witches\nwere more powerful and malignant than those with \"biggs\" only; and then\nshe wandered off, and accused certain of her neighbours, of whom one,\n\"Pickhamer's wife, was the most greate, grand, and auncyent witch.\" Then\nshe told her audience that if any witch desired to be carried to any\nplace, a cat, or a dog, or a rod would convey them away; but not their\nbodies, only their souls in the likeness of their bodies. The judge was\nnot quite satisfied with either Edmund Robinson's depositions or\nMargaret's confessions, and for all that the jury brought in a verdict of\nguilty, managed to get a reprieve, and to send up some of the accused to\nLondon. He managed also to interest the king, Charles I., who had not his\nfather's craze on the subject; and Charles ordered the bishop to make a\nspecial examination of the case, and send in his report. By this time,\ntoo, Edmund and his father were separated, and the boy fully examined;\nwhen at last he confessed to the entire worthlessness and fraud of all he\nhad said. He had been robbing an orchard of bullees (plums) more than a\nmile off the barn at the day and hour named; and, counselled by his\nfather, had made up those wicked lies to screen himself. And then, finding\nthe game profitable--for in a short time they made so good a thing by it\nthat the father bought a couple of cows--he flew further a-field, and\nattacked every one within reach. Fortunately for his victims, the judge\nwas a man of sense and independent judgment; so the judiciary records of\nEngland are stained with one crime the less, and the neighbours lost the\nexcitement of an execution.\n\n\nTHE WITCH ON A PLANK.[129]\n\n\"Many are in a belief that this silly sex of women can by no means attaine\nto that so vile and damned a practise of Sorcery and Witchcraft, in regard\nof their illiteratenesse and want of learning, which many men have by\ngreat learning done;\" nevertheless the Earl of Essex and his army,\nmarching through Newberry, saw a feat done by a woman which not the most\nlearned man of them all could have accomplished by natural means. Two\nsoldiers were loitering behind the main body, gathering nuts,\nblackberries, and the like, when one climbed up a tree for sport, and the\nother followed him, jesting. From their vantage place, looking on the\nriver, they there espied a \"tall, lean, slender woman treading of the\nwater with her feet with as much ease and firmnesse as if one should walk\nor trample on the earth.\" The soldier called to his companion, and he to\nthe rest; and soon they all--captains, privates, and commanders alike--saw\nthis marvellous lean woman, who now they perceived was standing on a thin\nplank, \"which she pushed this way and that at her pleasure, making it a\npastime to her, little perceiving who was on her tracks.\" Then she crossed\nthe river, and the army after her; but there they lost her for a time, and\nwhen they found her all were too cowardly to seize her. At last one\ndare-devil went up and boldly caught her, demanding what she was. The poor\nwretch was dumb--perhaps with terror--and spoke nothing; so they dragged\nher before the commanders, \"to whom, though she was mightily urged, she\ndid reply as little.\" As they could bethink themselves of nothing better\nto do with her, they set her upright against a mud bank or wall, and two\nof the soldiers, at their captain's command, made ready and fired. \"But\nwith a deriding and loud laughter at them, she caught their bullets in her\nhands and chew'd them, which was a stronger testimony than her treading\nwater that she was the same that their imagination thought her for to be.\"\nThen one of the men set his carbine against her breast and fired; but the\nbullet rebounded like a ball, and narrowly missed the face of the shooter,\nwhich \"so enraged the Gentleman, that one drew out his sword and manfully\nrun at her with all the force his strength had power to make, but it\nprevailed no more than did the shot, the woman though still speechlesse,\nyet in a most contemptible way of Scorn still laughing at them, which did\nthe more exhaust their furie against her life; yet one amongst the rest\nhad heard that piercing or drawing bloud from forth the veines that\ncrosse the temples of the head, it would prevail against the strongest\nsorcery, and quell the force of Witchcraft, which was allowed for Triall:\nthe woman, hearing this, knew then the Devill had left her, and her power\nwas gone; wherefore she began alowd to cry and roare, tearing her haire,\nand making pitious moan, which in these words expressed were: And is it\ncome to passe that I must dye indeed? Why then his Excellency the Earle of\nEssex shall be fortunate and win the field. After which no more words\ncould be got from her; wherewith they immediately discharged a Pistoll\nunderneath her eare, at which she straight sunk down and dyed, leaving her\nlegacy of a detested carcasse to the wormes, her soul we ought not to\niudge of, though the euills of her wicked life and death can scape no\ncensure. Finis. This Book is not Printed according to order.\"\n\n\nTHE WITCH-FINDING OF HOPKINS.\n\nAnd now the reign of Matthew Hopkins, of Mannington, gent., begins--that\nmost infamous follower of an infamous trade--the witch-finder general of\nEngland. It was Hopkins who first reduced the practice of witch-finding to\na science, and established rules as precise as any to be made for\nmathematics or logic. His method of proceeding was to \"walk\" a suspected\nwitch between two inquisitors, who kept her from food and sleep, and\nincessantly walking, for four-and-twenty hours; or if she could not be\nthus walked she was cross-bound--her right toe fastened to her left thumb,\nand her left toe to her right thumb--care being taken to draw the cords as\ntightly as possible, and to keep her as uneasily, and in this state she\nwas placed on a high stool or chair, kept without food or sleep for the\nprescribed four-and-twenty hours, and vigilantly watched. And Hopkins\nrecommended that a hole be made in the door, through which her imps were\nsure to come to be fed, and that her watchers be careful to kill\neverything they saw--fly, spider, lice, mouse, what not; for none knew\nwhen and under what form her familiars might appear; and if by any chance\nthey missed or could not kill them, then they might be sure that they were\nimps, and so another proof be indisputably established. If neither of\nthese ways would do, then, still cross-bound, she was to be \"swum.\" If she\nsank, she was drowned; if she floated--and by putting her carefully on the\nwater she generally would float--then she was a witch, and to be taken out\nand hung. For water, being the sacred element used in baptism, thus\nmanifestly refused to hold such an accursed thing as a witch within its\nbosom; so that, when she swam, it was a proof that this \"sacred element\"\nrejected her for the more potent keeping of the fire. This was the\nexplanation which, it seemed to King James the First, was a rational and\nreligious manner of accounting for a certain physical fact.\n\nThis, then, was the wise and liberal manner in which an impossible sin was\ndiscovered, and judgment executed, in those fatal years when Matthew\nHopkins ruled the mind of England; yet years wherein Harvey was patiently\nat work on his grand physiological discovery, and when Wallis, and\nWilkins, and Boyle were founding the Royal Society of liberal art and free\ndiscussion. It was only a piece of poetical justice that in the future he\nshould be \"swum\" cross-bound in his own manner, and found to float\naccording to the hydrostatics of witches. The shame and fear of this trial\nhastened the consumption to which he was hereditarily predisposed; and\nafter this stringent test we hear no more of this vile impostor and\nimpudent deceiver, this canting hypocrite, who cloaked his cruelty and\ncovetousness under the garb of religion, and professed to be serving God\nand delivering man from the power of the devil when he was pandering to\nthe worst passions of the time, and sacrificing to his own corrupt heart.\nThe blood money, for which he sent so many hapless wretches to the gallows\n(he charged twenty shillings a town for his labours), though not an\nexceeding bribe, as he himself boasts, was money pleasantly earned and\npleasantly spent; for what man would object to travel through a beautiful\ncountry, surrounded by friends, and carrying influence and importance\nwherever he went, and have all his expenses paid into the bargain?\n\nIn 1664[130] we find him at Yarmouth, accusing sixteen women in a batch,\namong whom was an old woman easily got to confess. She said she used to\nwork for Mr. Moulton, a stocking merchant and alderman of the town; but\none day, going for work, she found him from home, and his man refused to\nlet her have any till his return, which would not be for a fortnight. She,\nbeing exasperated against the man, applied to the maid to let her have\nsome knitting to do, but the maid gave her the like answer: upon which she\nwent home sorely discontented with both. In the middle of the night some\none knocked at the door: on her rising to open it she saw a tall black\nman, who told her that she should have as much work from him as she would,\nif she would write her name in his book. He then scratched her hand with a\npenknife, and filled the pen with her blood--guiding her hand while she\nmade her mark. This done, he asked what he could do for her: but when she\ndesired to have her revenge on Mr. Moulton's man, he told her he had no\npower over him, because he went constantly to church to hear Whitfield and\nBrinsley, and said his prayers morning and evening. The same of the maid;\nbut there was a young child in the house more easy to be dealt with, for\nwhom he would make an image of wax which then they must bury in the\nchurchyard, and as the waxen image wasted and consumed, so would the\nchild; which was done, and the child thrown into a languishing condition\nin consequence; so bad, indeed, that they all thought it was dying. But as\nsoon as the witch confessed, the little one lifted up its head and\nlaughed, and from that instant began to recover. The waxen image was found\nwhere she said she and the devil had buried it, and thus the whole of the\ncharm was destroyed, and the child was saved; but the poor old crazy woman\nwith her blackbird imp, and her fifteen compeers with their whole\nmenagerie of imps, were hung at Yarmouth, amid the rejoicings of the\nmultitude.\n\nAt Edmonsbury, that same year, another witch had a little black smooth imp\ndog, which she sent to play with the only child of some people she hated.\nAt first the child refused to play with its questionable companion, but\nsoon got used to its daily appearance, and lost all fear. So the dog-imp,\nwatching its opportunity, got the boy one day to the water, when it\ndragged him underneath and drowned him. The witch was hanged: could they\ndo less in such a clear case as this?\n\nAnother woman was hanged at Oxford for a story as wild as any to be found\nin Grimm or Mother Bunch. There were two sisters, left orphans but well\nprovided for. The eldest, somewhat prodigal, married a man as bad or\nworse than herself, who spent her money and afterwards deserted her,\nleaving her with one child and in extreme poverty. The younger, being very\nserious and religious, waited for two or three years before she settled\nherself, then married a good, honest, sober farmer, with whom she lived\nwell and prosperously; her gear increasing yearly, and herself the happy\nmother of a pretty child. Her sister was moved to envy to see all this\nprosperity and contentment, and in her passion made a compact with the\ndevil, by which she became a witch for the purpose of killing her sister's\nchild as the greatest despite she could do them. For this purpose she used\nto mount a bedstaff, which, by the uttering of certain magical words,\ncarried her to her sister's room; but she could never harm the child,\nbecause it was so well protected by the prayers of its parents. Her own\ndaughter, a little one of about seven, watched her mother in her antics\nwith the bedstaff, and from watching took to imitating--going through the\nair one night after its dame, and in like fashion. However, it chanced\nthat she was left behind in her uncle's house; so presently she fell\na-crying, her powers being apparently limited to going, not including the\nmagic words that insured the return. Her uncle and aunt, hearing a child\ncry where never a child should be, took a candle and discovered the whole\nmatter. Next day the child was taken before the magistrate, to whom it\ntold its tale, and the mother was apprehended. On the trial this little\ncreature of seven years old was admitted as the chief evidence against her\nmother; and after they had made the poor woman mad among them, she\nconfessed, and was hanged quite quietly. These were only two out of the\nhundreds whom that miserable man, Matthew Hopkins, gent., contrived to\nsend to the gallows. Beaumont, in his Treatise on Spirits, mentions that\n\"thirty-six were arraigned at the same time before Judge Coniers, An.\n1645, and fourteen of them hanged, and an hundred more detained in several\nprisons in Suffolk and Essex.\" But the most celebrated and the saddest of\nall the trials in which Hopkins played a part was that of\n\n\nTHE MANNINGTREE WITCHES,\n\nheld before Sir Matthew Hale in 1645--Hopkins's great witch-year.\n\nIn a very scarce tract called 'A true and exact relation of the severall\nInformations, Examinations, and Confessions of the Late Witches Arraigned\nand Executed in the county of Essex, Published by Authoritie, and Printed\nby M. S. for Henry Overton and Benj. Allen, and are to be sold at their\nshops in Popes-head-alley, 1645,' is an account of these Manningtree\nwitches. One John Rivet's wife, living in Manningtree, was taken sick and\nlame and with violent fits, and John swore before Sir Harbottel Grimston,\none of the justices of the peace, that a cunning woman--wife of one Hovye\nat Hadleigh--told him that his wife was cursed by two women, near\nneighbours; of whom one was Elizabeth Clarke, _alias_ Bedingfield.\nElizabeth's mother, and others of her kinsfolk, had been hanged for\nwitchcraft in the bygone years: so it ran in the blood, and it was not to\nbe wondered at if it broke out afresh now. Sir Harbottel Grimston and Sir\nThomas Bowes, the two Justices before whom this deposition was taken, then\nadmitted the evidence of Matthew Hopkins of Manningtree, gentleman and\nwitch-finder, who deposed to having watched Elizabeth Clarke last night,\nbeing the 24th of March, 1645, when he and one Master Sterne, who watched\nwith him, saw some strange things which he would presently tell their\nworships of. Elizabeth told this deponent and his companion that if they\nwould stay and do her no harm, she would call one of her imps, and play\nwith it in her lap; which at first they refused, but afterwards\nconsenting, there appeared to them \"an Impe like to a Dog, which was\nwhite, with some sandy spots, and seemed to be very fat and plump, with\nvery short legges, who forthwith vanished away.\" This was Jarmara. Then\ncame Vinegar Tom, in the shape of a greyhound with very long legs; and\nthen for a moment only came one for Master Sterne, a black imp which\nvanished instantly; then one like a polecat, only bigger.[131] Elizabeth\nnow told them that she had five imps of her own, and two of Beldam West's,\nand that they sucked turn and turn about: now she was sucked by Beldam\nWest's and now Beldam West by hers. She further said that Satan, whom she\nknew very much too well as \"a proper Gentleman with a laced band, having\nthe whole proportion of a Man,\" would never let her have any peace till\nshe slew the hogs of Mr. Edwards of Manningtree, and Mr. Taylor's horse.\nWhen she had slain them Satan let her be quiet. Then of his own accord,\nMr. Hopkins said that going from Mr. Edwards's house to his own, that\nnight at nine or ten, he saw the greyhound which he had with him jump as\nif after a hare; and coming up hurriedly, there was a white thing like a\n\"kitlyn,\" and his greyhound standing aloof from it; but by-and-by the\nwhite kitlyn came dancing round and about the greyhound, \"and by all\nlikelihood bit off a piece of the flesh of the shoulder of the greyhound;\nfor the greyhound came shrieking and crying to this Informant, with a\npiece of fleshe torne from her shoulder.\" To crown all, coming into his\nown yard, Mr. Hopkins saw a thing like a black cat, only three times as\nbig, sitting on the strawberry-bed glaring at him; but when he went\ntowards it, it leaped over the pale, ran right through the yard--his\ngreyhound after it--then flung open a gate which was \"underset with a\npaire of Tumbrell strings,\" and so vanished, leaving the greyhound in a\nstate of extreme terror. Which, if there was any truth at all in these\ndepositions, and they were not merely arbitrary lies, would make one\nsuspect that Master Matthew Hopkins had been drinking, and knew a few of\nthe phenomena of delirium tremens.\n\nJohn Sterne, Matthew's slavey or attendant, then gave information.\nWatching with Matthew Hopkins, he asked Elizabeth Clarke if she were never\nafraid of her imps? to whom she made this notable answer, \"What, doe you\nthinke I am afraid of my children?\" His tale of imps was rather different\nto his patron's: they had consulted hurriedly, or John's memory was bad.\nThe white imp was Hoult; Jarmara had red spots; Vinegar Tom was like a\n\"dumbe Dogge;\" and Sack-and-Sugar was a hard-working imp, which would tear\nMaster John Sterne when it came. And it was well that Master Sterne was so\nquick, else this imp would have \"soon skipped upon his face, and perchance\nhad got into his throate, and then there would have been a feast of toades\nin this Informant's belly.\" Elizabeth had one imp, she said, for which she\nwould fight up to her knees in blood before she would lose it; and when\nasked what the devil was like as a man, said he was a \"proper man,\" a deal\n\"properer\" than Matthew Hopkins.\n\nOther witnesses affirmed that if Elizabeth smacked with her mouth then a\nwhite cat-like imp, would come, and that they saw five more imps, named as\nabove. And furthermore that she confessed that old Beldam, meaning Ann\nWest--which was a very disrespectful way of speaking of her gossip--had\nkilled Robert Oakes' wife and a clothier's child of Dedham, both of whom\nhad died about a week since; and also that \"the said old Beldam Weste had\nthe wife of one William Cole of Mannintree in handling, who deid not long\nsince of a pining and languishing disease,\" and that she had raised the\nwind which sunk the hoy in which was Tom Turner's brother thirty months\nagone. She also said that Beldam West had taught her all she knew; for\nthat one day as she was pitying her for her lameness--she had but one\nleg--and for her poverty, she told her how she might get imps and be rich,\nfor that the imps would help her to a husband who would keep her ever\nafter, so that she need not be put to such miserable shifts as gathering\nsticks for a living. Elizabeth Clarke then accused Elizabeth Gooding of\nbeing one of the tribe: and Robert Taylor came forward to give\ncorroborative evidence against her. He said that nine weeks since,\nElizabeth Gooding came to his shop for half a pound of cheese, on trust;\nthat he denied it to her; whereupon she went away, \"muttering and\nmumbling\" to herself, and soon came back with the money. That very night\nhis horse, which was in the stable, sound and in good condition, fell lame\nand in four days' time died of a strange disease, and Elizabeth Gooding\nwas the cause thereof. Elizabeth Gooding \"is a lewd woman, and to this\nInformant's knowledge, hath kept company with the said Elizabeth Clarke,\nAnne Leech, and Anne West, which Anne West hath been suspected for a Witch\nmany years since, and suffered imprisonment for the same.\" Elizabeth\nGooding contented herself with saying quietly that she was not guilty of\nany one particular charged upon her in the examination of the said Robert\nTaylor. Nevertheless she was executed at Chelmsford.\n\nRichard Edwards said that twelve months since he was driving his cows near\nto the house of Anne Leech, widow, when they both fell down and died in\ntwo days; the next day his white cow fell down within a rod of the same\nplace, and died in a week after. In August last his child was out at nurse\nat goodwife Wyles', who lived near Elizabeth Gooding and Elizabeth Clarke;\nwhich said child was taken very sick, with rolling of the eyes, strange\nfits, extending of the limbs, and in two days it died: and Elizabeth\nGooding and Anne Leech were the cause of its death.\n\nAnd now poor old Anne Leech was brought on the scene, to \"confess,\" as so\nmany wretched victims did. She said that she and Elizabeth Clarke and\nElizabeth Gooding sent their imps to kill Mr. Edwards's black cow, and his\nwhite cow; she sent a grey imp, Elizabeth Clarke a black one, and Gooding\na white; also that thirty years since she sent her grey imp to kill Mr.\nBragge's two horses, because he had called her a naughty woman--and that\nthe imps did their work without fear of failure. When these imps were\nabroad, she said, and after mischief, she had her health, but when they\nwere unemployed and for ever hanging about her, she was sick. They often\nspoke to her in a hollow voice which she easily understood, and told her\nthat she should never feel hell's torments: which it is very sure the poor\nold maniac never did. She and Gooding killed Mr. Edwards's child too; she\nwith her white imp, and Elizabeth with her black one. She had her white\nimp about thirty years since, and a grey and a black as well, from \"one\nAnne, the wife of Robert Pearce of Stoak in Suffolk, being her brother.\"\nThree years since she sent her grey imp to kill Elizabeth Kirk; and\nElizabeth languished for about a year after and then died; the cause of\nher, Anne Leech's, malice being that she had asked of Elizabeth a coif,\nwhich she refused. The grey imp killed the daughter of Widow Rawlyns,\nbecause Widow Rawlyns had put her out of her farm; and she knew that\nGooding had sent her imp to vex and torment Mary Taylor, because Mary\nrefused her some beregood; but when she wanted to warn her, the devil\nwould not let her. Lastly, she said, that about eight weeks ago she had\nmet West and Gooding at Elizabeth Clarke's house \"where there was a book\nread wherein she thinks there was no goodnesse.\"\n\nSo all these wretched creatures were hanged at Chelmsford, and the\ninformants plumed themselves greatly on their evidence. But before their\nexecution, poor Hellen Clark, wife of Thomas Clark, and daughter of Anne\nLeech, was \"fyled.\" On the 4th of April, 1645, Richard Glascock gave\ninformation that he had heard a falling out between Hellen, and Mary wife\nof Edward Parsley, and that he \"heard the said Hellen to say as the said\nHellen passed by this Informant's door in the street, that Mary the\ndaughter of the said Edward and Mary Parsley should rue for all, whereupon\npresently the said Mary, the daughter, fell sick and died within six weeks\nafter.\" When Helen was arrested she made her confession glibly. She said\nthat about six weeks since the devil came to her house in the likeness of\na white dog by name Elimanzer, and that she fed him with milk porridge;\nthat he spoke to her audibly, bidding her deny Christ and she should never\nwant; which she did: but she did not kill Mary Parsley nevertheless. She\nwas executed at Manningtree all the same as if she had spoken sober truth.\n\nOn the 23rd of the same month Prudence Hart came to the magistrates with\nan accusation. About eight weeks since, she said, being at church very\nwell and healthful--some twenty weeks gone with child--she was suddenly\ntaken with pains, and miscarried before she could be got home: and about\ntwo months since, being in bed, something fell upon her right side, but\nbeing dark she could not tell of what shape it was: but presently she was\ntaken lame on that side, and with extraordinary pains and burning, and she\nbelieved that Anne West and Rebecca West, the daughter, were the cause of\nher pains. John Edes also swelled the count of accusations. He said that\nRebecca had confessed to him that seven years since her mother incited her\nto intercourse with the devil, who had since appeared to her at divers\ntimes and in various shapes, but chiefly as a proper young man, desiring\nof her such things as proper young men are wont to desire of women;\npromising her that if she would yield to his wishes she should have what\nshe would, and especially should be avenged of her enemies; and that then\nRebecca had demanded the death of Hart's son of Lawford, who, not long\nafter, was taken sick and died. At which Rebecca had said \"that shee\nconceived hee could do as God.\" And furthermore, that Rebecca said, while\nshe lived at Rivenall her mother Anne came to her and said, \"the Barley\nCorn was picked up,\" meaning one George Francis; and that shortly after\nGeorge's father said his son was bewitched to death; to which Anne\nreplied, \"Be it unto him according to his faith.\" When Rebecca was called\non the 21st of March, to answer to these charges, she confirmed all that\nJohn Edes had said, adding a few unimportant particulars which insured the\nexecution of her mother in the August following; but in spite of her own\nconfession she herself, though found guilty by the grand jury, was\nacquitted for life and death. Matthew Hopkins struck a few dashes of\ncolour over the canvas, telling the judges that Rebecca had told him she\nwas made a witch by her mother; and that when she met the four other\ngoodies in Clarke's house, the devil, or their familiars, had come, now in\nthe shape of a dog, then of two kittyns, then of two dogs--and that they\nfirst did homage to Elizabeth Clarke, skipping up into her lap and kissing\nher, and then to all the rest, kissing each one of them save Rebecca.\nAfterwards, when Satan came as a man, he gave her kisses enough: and not\nquite so innocently as the \"kittyns and the dogges.\"\n\nSusan Sparrow and Mary Greenliefe lived together. Each had a daughter\nthirteen or fourteen years old; and one night Susan Sparrow, being awake,\nheard Mary's child cry out, \"Oh mother, now it comes, it comes! Oh helpe,\nmother, it hurts me, it hurts me!\" So Susan said, \"Goodwife Greenliefe,\nGoodwife Greenliefe, if your childe be asleep awaken it, for if anybody\ncomes by and heare it make such moans (you having an ill name already),\nthey will say you are suckling your Impes upon it.\" To which Mary replied\nthat this was just what she was doing, and that she would \"fee\" with them\n(meaning her Imps), that one night they should suck her daughter, and one\nnight Susan Sparrow's; which fell out as she said. For the very next night\nSusan's child cried out in the same manner as Mary's had done, and clasped\nher mother round the neck, much affrighted and shrieking pitifully. She\ncomplained of being pinched and nipped on her thigh; and in the morning\nthere was a black and blue spot as broad and long as her hand. Susan\nSparrow also said that the house where they lived was haunted by a\nleveret, which came and sat before the door; and knowing that Anthony\nSharlock had a capital courser, she went and asked him to banish it for\nher. Whether the dog killed it or not she did not know; all that she did\nknow was, that Goodman Merrill's dog coursed it but a short time before,\nbut the leveret never stirred, and \"just when the dog came at it he\nskipped over it, and turned about and stood still, and looked on it, and\nshortly after that dog languished and dyed. But whether this was an Impe\nin the shape of a Leveret, or had any relation to the said Mary, this\nInformant knows not, but does confesse shee wondered very much to see a\nLeveret, wilde by nature, to come so frequently and sit openly before the\ndore in such a familiar way.\" Mary was searched, and found marked with\nwitch marks, but contented herself with quietly denying all knowledge of\nfamiliars, witchcraft, \"bigges,\" and the like.\n\nMary Johnson was accused of having a familiar, in shape like a rat\n\"without tayl or eares,\" which she used to carry about in her pocket, and\nset to rock the cradle. She kissed Elizabeth Otley's child, and gave it an\napple, and the child sickened and died of fits; and Elizabeth herself had\nextraordinary pains, which left her when she had scuffled with Mary\nJohnson and gotten her blood. And she killed Annabell Durant's child by\ncommending it as a pretty thing, stroking its face, and giving it a piece\nof bread and butter; and Annabell knew that she had been the death of the\nchild, because, \"setting up of broome in the outhouse after the little one\nhad been taken, she saw the perfect representation of a shape just like\nMary Johnson, and was struck with such a lamenesse in her Arms that she\nwas not able to bow her arms, and so continued speechless all that day and\nnight following. Mary came also as the noise of a Hornet, to the room\nwhere Annabell's husband lay sick, for he cried out, 'It comes, it comes!\nNow Goodwife Johnson's Impe is come! Now she hath my life!'\" And\nimmediately a great part of the wall fell down. So was not Mary Johnson an\nundoubted witch with all this testimony against her?\n\nAnne Cooper was executed at Manningtree because she had three black imps,\nby name Wynow, Jeso, and Panu; because she gave her daughter Sarah a grey\nimp like a kite, and called Tomboy, telling her there was a cat for her to\nplay with; because she cursed a colt and it broke its neck directly after;\nand because she sent one of her imps to kill little Mary Rous--which it\ndid. Elizabeth Hare was condemned, but afterwards reprieved, for giving\ntwo imps to Mary Smith. The poor old woman \"praying to God with her hands\nupward, that if she was guilty of any such thing, He would show some\nexample on her, presently after she shaked and quivered, and fell to the\nground backward, and tumbled up and down the ground, and hath continued\nsick ever since.\"\n\nOld Margaret Moone had twelve imps, but her informants could only remember\nthe names of \"Jesus, Jockey, Sandy, Mrs. Elizabeth, and Collyn.\" Her imps\nkilled cows and babes; spoiled brewings; broke horses' necks; bewitched\n\"aples\" so that the eaters thereof died; sent Rawbodd's wife such a plague\nof lice that they might have been swept off her clothes with a stick; and\ndid other maleficent things, proper to imps and witches. When searched she\nwas found to have \"bigges\" where the imps sucked; and confessed the same,\nsaying that \"if she might have some bread and beere she would call her\nsaid Impes; which being given unto her, she put the bread into the beere\nand set it against a hole in the wall, and made a circle round about the\npot, and then cried, Come Christ, come Christ, come Mounsier, come\nMounsier.\" No imps appearing, she said her daughters had carried them off\nin a white bag, and demanded that the said daughters might be \"searched,\"\n\"for they were naught.\" They were searched, and were found witch-marked.\nMargaret denied all the charges against herself, but was condemned\nnevertheless; and only escaped the executioner's hands by dying on her way\nto the gallows.\n\nJudith Moone helped her mother a step gallowsward by a rambling, pointless\nconfession about some wood, and how her mother threatened her, and how\nsomething seemed to come about her legs that night; but when she searched\nshe found nothing; so Judith Moone probably died because she did not know\nhow to distinguish a false sensation from a true one.\n\nElizabeth Harvey, widow, Sarah Hating, wife, Marian Hocket, widow, were\n\"searched:\" the first two were marked, the last not, but yet was the worst\nwitch of all, for she had made Elizabeth Harvey as bad as herself by\nbringing her three things the bigness of mouses, which she said were\n\"pretty things,\" and to be made use of. As for Sarah Hating, she had sent\nFrancis Stock's wife a snake, which the said wife espied lying on a shelf,\nand strove to kill with a spade, but the snake was too quick for her and\nvanished away; so Francis Stock's wife was taken sick, and within one week\ndied. A daughter was taken ill immediately after her mother, and she also\ndied, and then another child; all because Francis Stock had impressed\nSarah Hating's husband for a soldier, and Sarah Hating was angered. Marian\nHocket was told on by her own sister, Sarah Barton, who said that she had\ngiven her three imps, \"Littleman, Prettyman, and Dainty.\" They were all\nexecuted, Sarah and Marian denying their guilt, but Elizabeth Harvey\nsticking to her tale of the three mouses which Marian had brought her, and\nwhich sucked her.\n\nRose Hallybread bewitched Robert Turner's servant so that he crowed like a\ncock, barked like a dog; groaned beyond the ordinary course of nature,\nand, though but a youth, struggled with such strength that four or five\nmen could not hold him. Says Rose, fifteen or sixteen years ago, Goodwife\nHagtree brought an imp to her house which she nourished on oatmeal, and\nsuckled according to the manner of witches, for the space of a year and a\nhalf--when she lost it; then Joyce Boanes brought her another, as a small\ngrey bird, which she carried to Thomas Toakley's house in St. Osyth,\nputting it into a cranny of the door, so that his son should die, as he\ndid--crying out all the time that Rose Hallybread had killed him. She then\naccused Susan Cocks and Margaret Landish, and died in prison, cheating the\nhangman.\n\nOld Joyce Boanes now took up the tale. She had two imps like mouses she\nsaid, and they killed the lambs at the farm-house called Cocket-wick, and\none of these imps called \"Rug\" she took to Rose Hallybread, that they\nmight torment Turner's servant. Wherefore her imp made him bark like a\ndog; Rose Hallybread's \"inforced him to sing sundry tunes in his great\nextremity of paines;\" Susan Cock's compelled him to crow like a cock; and\nMargaret Landish's made him groan. Poor old Joyce Boanes was hanged in\nreturn for her drivelling ravings.\n\nSo was Susan Cock; who confirmed all that had gone before, adding only\nthat the night her mother died she gave her two imps, one like a mouse\n\"Susan,\" the other yellow and like a cat \"Besse,\" with which she did\nsundry acts of spite and damage. Wherefore Susan was put out of the way of\nfurther harm. Margaret Landish knew not much about the matter, but was\nexecuted nevertheless, for having bewitched Thomas Hart's child--incited\nthereto by the girl's pointing at her and crying \"There goes Pegg the\nwitch!\" upon which Peg turned back and clapped her hands in a threatening\nmanner, saying \"she should smart for it,\" and that very night the child\nfell sick in a raving manner, and died within three weeks after; often in\nits fits crying out that \"Pegg the witch was by the bedside making strange\nmouths at her.\"\n\nRebecca Jones owned to knowing the devil as a handsome young man, who\npricked her wrist and made her his in soul and body. This was about four\nor five and twenty years ago, when living with John Bishop as his servant.\nAbout three months since too, going to St. Osyth to sell her master's\nbutter, she met a man in a ragged suit and with such great eyes that she\nwas afraid of him, and he gave her three things like \"moules,\" having four\nfeet apiece but no tails, and black, which he told her to nurse carefully\nand feed on milk. Their names were Margaret, Anie, and Susan, and they\nkilled cows and sheep and hogs, and revenged her on her enemies. So\nRebecca was hanged as befitted.\n\nJohan Cooper, widow, had three imps, two like mouses and one like a frog;\ntheir names were \"Prickeare, Robyn, and Frog,\" and they killed men and\nbeasts. Wherefore she too was hanged like the rest.\n\nAnne Cate had four, given her by her mother twenty years ago, \"James,\nPrickeare, Robyn, and Sparrow:\" the first three like mouses, and the\nfourth like a sparrow; and they did evil and mischief and killed all whom\nshe would. She was hanged too.\n\nAt the end of the tract is a very curious bit of evidence, given by an\nhonest man of Manningtree, one Goff, a glover, concerning old Anne West,\nthen on her trial. He said that one moonlight morning, about four o'clock,\nas he was passing Anne West's house, the door being open, he looked in and\nsaw three or four little things like black rabbits which came skipping\ntowards him. He struck at them, but missed; when, by better luck, he\ncaught one in his hand and tried to wring its head off; but \"as he wrung\nand stretched the neck of it, it came out betweene his hands like a lock\nof wooll,\" so he went to drown it at a spring not far off. But still as he\nwent he could not hinder himself from falling down, so that at last he\nwas obliged to creep on his hands and knees, till he came to the water,\nwhen he held the imp for a long space underneath, till he conceived it was\ndrowned, but, \"letting goe his hand, it sprang out of the water up into\nthe aire, and so vanished away.\" Coming back to Anne West's, he found her\nstanding at her door in terrible undress, and to his complaint of why did\nshe send her imps to molest him? she answered \"that they were not sent out\nto trouble him, but as Scouts upon another designe.\"\n\nBut one of the most painful murders of the Hopkins Session was that of old\nMr. Lewis,[132] the \"Reading Parson\" of Franlingham; a fine old man of\ngood character, but generally regarded as a Malignant, because he\npreferred to read Queen Elizabeth's Homilies instead of composing nasal\ndiscourses of his own, of the kind so dear to the Puritan party: wherefore\nthe authorities and Matthew Hopkins--who was a devout Puritan--had their\neyes upon him, and were not disposed to be lenient. He was swum in\nHopkins's manner, cross-bound; set on a table cross-legged; kept several\nnights without sleep, and twenty-four hours without food; run backwards\nand forwards in the room, two men holding him, until he was out of breath;\n\"pricked\" and searched for marks; after all which barbarity it is not\nsurprising to find that the poor old Reading Parson of eighty-five\n\"confessed.\" Yes, he had made a compact with the devil and sealed it with\nhis blood; and he had two imps that sucked him, one of which, the yellow\ndun imp, was always urging him to do some mischief, but the other was more\namiable. Accordingly, to please the yellow dun he had one day sent it to\nsink an Ipswich ship, which he spied out in the offing: a commission\nwhich the imp executed with zeal and precision before the eyes of a whole\nbeach full of spectators. This Ipswich ship was one of many that rode\nsafely enough in the calm sea, but the imp troubled the waters immediately\nabout her, and down she went like a stone, as all present could testify.\nAsked if he had not grieved to make so many--they were fourteen--widows in\na few moments he said \"No, he was glad to have pleased his imp.\" This\nconfession and various witch \"bigges\" found on him were held proofs\nconclusive; and Mr. Lewis was condemned to be hanged; his eighty years,\nand his gown, protecting him nowise. As soon as he was a little refreshed\nhe denied all the ravings he had been induced to utter, read the burial\nservice for himself with cheerfulness and courage, and met his death\ncalmly and composedly; perhaps not sorry to resign into God's keeping a\nlife which Matthew Hopkins and the Puritans were rendering intolerable.\n\nA Penitent Woman[133] of the same time confessed that when her mother lay\nsick a thing like a mole ran into bed to her. She, the Penitent Woman,\nstarted, but her mother told her not to fear, but to take the mole and\nkeep it, saying, \"Keep this in a pot by the fire, and thou shalt never\nwant.\" The daughter did as she was bid, and made the mole comfortable in\nits pot. And after she had done this, a seemingly poor boy came in and\nasked leave to warm himself by the fire. When he went away she found some\nmoney under the stool whereon he had sat. This happened many times, and so\nher mother's promise and her imp brought the poor penitent romancer\nBarmecidal good luck. It could not have been much, for Hopkins, or at\nleast his friend and comrade John Sterne, says in the examination of Joan\nRuccalver, of Powstead, Suffolk, that \"six shillings was the largest\namount he had ever known given by an imp to its dame.\"\n\nThat all this seemed right and rational in the eyes of sane men is one of\nthe most marvellous things connected with the delusion: that well-educated\nEnglishmen should send such a wretch as Matthew Hopkins with legal\nauthorisation to prick witches, associating with him Mr. Calamy \"to see\nthat there was no fraud:\" that they should arraign miserable old women by\nscores, and hang them by dozens: and that Baxter should gravely argue for\nthe validity of ghosts and spectres on the plea that \"various Creatures\nmust have a various Situation, Reception, and Operation: the Fishes must\nnot dwell in our cities nor be acquainted with our affairs\"--strikes me\nchiefly with amazement at the marvellous imbecility of superstition. It is\nwell for the leaders of sects to bid us cast down our reason before blind\nfaith; for, assuredly, our reason, which is the greatest gift of God,\npleads loudly against the follies of belief and the vital absurdities into\nwhich religionists fall when unchecked by common sense. It was only the\n\"Atheists\" and \"Sadducees,\" as they were called, who at last managed to\nput a stop to this hideous delusion: all the pious believers upheld the\nholy need of searching for witches, and of not suffering them to live\nwherever they might be found. All sects and denominations of Christians\njoined in this, and found a meeting-place of brotherly love and concord\nbeneath the witches' gallows. And though one's soul revolts most at the\nso-called \"Reformed Party,\" because of the greater unctuousness of their\npiety, and their mighty professions, yet they were all equally guilty, one\nwith the other; all equally steeped to the lips in insanest superstition.\nThe temper of the times has so far changed now that men and women are no\nlonger hung because they have mesmeric powers, or because hysterical and\nepileptic patients utter wild ravings: but the thing remains the same;\nthere is the same amount of superstition still afloat, if somewhat altered\nin its direction; and modern Spiritualism, which has come to supersede\nWitchcraft, is, when it is true at all and not mere legerdemain, as little\nunderstood and as falsely catalogued as was ever the art of magic and\nsorcery.\n\n\nTHE HUNTINGDON IMPS.\n\nIn another very scarce tract by \"J. D.\" (John Davenport) \"present at the\ntrial,\" we come to a strange and mournful group of judicial murders that\ntook place in Huntingdon, 1646. First, there was Elizabeth Weed, of Great\nCatworth, who confessed that twenty-one years ago, as she was saying her\nprayers, three spirits came suddenly to her, one of which was like a man\nor youth, and the other two like puppies, of which one was white and the\nother black. The young man asked her if she would renounce God and Christ:\nto which she assented, her faith being weak; and then the devil promised\nthat she should do all the mischief she would, if she would covenant to\ngive him her soul at the end of twenty-one years. She assented to this\ntoo; and sealed the bargain with her blood. He drew the blood from under\nher left arm, and \"a great lump of flesh did rise there, and has increased\never since;\" and the devil scribbled with her blood, and the covenant was\nsigned and sealed. The name of her white imp, like a puppy, was \"Lilly,\"\nof the black \"Priscille;\" and the office of the white was to hurt man,\nwoman, and child, but of the black to hurt cattle. The man spirit's\nfunction was that of her husband, in which relation she lived with him to\nher great satisfaction. Lilly killed Mr. Henry Bedell's child, and\nPriscille sundry cattle; but she had not had much good of the bargain, for\nthe twenty-one years were to be out next Low Sunday, when her soul would\nbe required of her and the devil would take her away; and she desired to\nbe rid of the burden of her life before then. The judges acquiesced in her\ndesire: which a little good food and careful watching would have proved to\nthem was but the phantasy of disease; and the hangman had her body, though\nno devil took her soul, and her sufferings and her sins vexed the universe\nno more.\n\nJohn Winnick's confession is one of the most graphic and extraordinary of\nany in the tract. I give it word for word as I found it.\n\n\"The examination of John Winnick, of Molseworth in the said County,\nLabourer, taken upon the 11th day of Aprill, 1646, before Robert Bernard,\nEsquire, one of His Majesties Justices of the Peace for this County. Hee\nsaith, that about 29 yeares since, the 29th yeare ending about Midsommer\nlast past, he being a Batchellour, lived at Thropston with one Buteman,\nwho then kept the Inne at the George, and withall kept Husbandry: this\nExaminate being a servant to him in his Husbandry, did then loose a purse\nwith 7_s._ in it, for which he suspected one in the Family. He saith that\non a Friday being in the barne, making hay-bottles for his horses about\nnoon, swearing, cursing, raging, and wishing to himselfe that some wise\nbody (or Wizzard) would helpe him to his purse and money again: there\nappeared unto him a Spirit, blacke and shaggy, and having pawes like a\nBeare, but in bulk not fully so big as a Coney. The Spirit asked him what\nhe ailed to be so sorrowfull, this Examinate answered that he had lost a\npurse and money, and knew not how to come by it again. The Spirit replied,\nif you will forsake God and Christ and fall down and worship me for your\nGod, I will help you to your purse and money again. This Examinate said he\nwould, and thereupon fell down upon his knees and held up his hands. Then\nthe Spirit said, to-morrow about this time of the day, you shall find your\npurse upon the floor where you are now making bottles, I will send it to\nyou, and will also come my selfe. Whereupon this Examinate told the Spirit\nhe would meete him there, and receive it, and worship him. Whereupon at\nthe time prefixed, this Examinate went unto the place, and found his purse\nupon the floore, and tooke it up, and looking afterwards into it, he found\nthere all the money that was formerly lost: but before he had looked into\nit, the same Spirit appears unto him and said, there is your purse and\nyour money in it: and then this Examinate fell downe upon his knees and\nsaid, My Lord and God I thanke you. The said Spirit at that time brought\nwith him two other Spirits for shape, bignesse, and colour, the one like a\nwhite Cat, the other like a grey Coney; and while this Examinate was upon\nhis knees, the Beare Spirit spake to him, saying, you must worship these\ntwo Spirits as you worship me, and take them for your Gods also: then this\nExaminate directed his bodie towards them, and called them his Lords and\nGods. Then the Beare Spirit told him that when he dyed he must have his\nsoule, whereunto this Examinate yielded. Hee told him then also that they\nmust suck of his body, to which this Examinate also yielded; but they did\nnot sucke at that time. The Beare Spirit promised him that he should never\nwant victuals. The Cat Spirit that it would hurt Cattel when he would\ndesire it. And the Coney-like Spirit that it would hurt men when he\ndesired. The Bear Spirit told him that it must have some of his blood\nwherewith to seale the Covenant, whereunto this Examinate yielded, and\nthen the beare Spirit leapt upon his shoulder, and prickt him on the head,\nand from thence tooke blood; and after thus doing, the said three spirits\nvanisht away. The next day about noone, the said Spirits came to him while\nhee was in the field, and told him they were come to suck of his body, to\nwhich he yielded, and they suckt his body at the places where the marks\nare found, and from that time to this, they have come constantly to him\nonce every 24 hours, sometimes by day, and most commonly by night. And\nbeing demanded what mischiefe he caused any of the said spirits to do, he\nanswered never any, onely hee sent his beare Spirit to provoke the\nmaid-servant of Mr. Say of Molmesworth, to steale victualls for him out of\nher Master's house, which she did, and this Examinate received the same.\n\n  The marke of\n  John Winnicke\n          Rob. Bernard.\n\nHe was hanged, 1646.\n\nEight years before this--namely, in 1638--Frances Moore had a black puppy\nimp of Margaret Simson of Great Catworth, which she called Pretty, and\nwhose office was to harm cattle. Then Goodwife Weed gave her a thing like\na white cat, called Tissy, saying, if she would deny God and affirm the\nsame by her blood, to whomsoever she sent this cat, and cursed, would die.\nSo she cursed William Foster, who, sixteen years ago would have hanged two\nof her children because they offered to take a piece of bread; and he\ndied: but she could not remember what the cat imp did to him. Poor old\ncreature! such naive little bits of truth and scientific direction come\nout in the midst of all the wildness and raving of the \"examined!\"--such\nlittle quiet bits of unconscious common sense, to redeem the whole account\nfrom the mere maunderings of lunacy! Frances Moore did not remember what\nher imp did to William Foster, yet she went on to say that she got tired\nof having them about her, and killed them both a year since; but they\nhaunted her still, and when she was apprehended crept up her clothes and\ntortured her so that she could not speak.\n\nElizabeth Chandler, widow, had something that came to her in a \"puffing\nand roaring manner,\" and that now hurt her sorely. She denied that she\never spoiled Goodwife Darnell's furmety, but Goodwife Darnell, by causing\nher to be ducked, she did heartily desire to be revenged on. She had been\ntroubled with these roaring things for a quarter of a year, and had two\nimps besides, one called \"Beelzebub,\" and the other \"Trullibub.\" This she\ndenied when asked, while sane and awake, saying that \"Beelzebub was a logg\nof wood and Trullibub a stick.\" But the neighbours testified against her,\nso her denial went for naught.\n\nEllen Shepheard had four iron-grey rat imps that sucked her; and Anne\nDesborough had two--mouses--Tib and Jone, one brown and the other white.\nShe had been told to forsake God and Christ, and that she would then have\nher will on men and cattle; as she did, and got her mouse imps in\nconsequence.\n\nJane Wallis saw a man in black clothes, about six weeks since, as she was\nmaking her bed. She bid him civilly good morning, and asked him his name.\nHe told her it was \"Blackeman,\" and, in turn, asked her if she was poor.\nYes, she said \"she was.\" Then he would send her two imps said he, Grissel\nand Greedigut, that should do anything for her she would. At this moment,\nJane, looking up, saw he had ugly feet, and was fearful; still more\nfearful when he became at one moment bigger and at another less, and then\nsuddenly vanished. Grissel and Greedigut came in the shape of \"dogges,\nwith great brisles of hogges hair upon their backs.\" They said they came\nfrom Blackeman to do whatever she might command: and sometimes all three\nof them--the two dogs and the man--brought her two or three shillings at a\ntime; and once they robbed a man and pulled him from his horse.\n\nOn September 25, 1645,[134] Joan Walliford confessed before the major and\nother jurates, \"that the divell, about seven yeares agoe did appeare to\nher in the shape of a little dog, and bid her to forsake God and leane to\nhim; who replied, that she was loath to forsake him.\" Still, she wished to\nbe revenged on Thomas Letherland and Mary Woodrufe, now his wife; and as\n\"Bunne,\" the devil, promised she should not lack, and did actually send\nher money, she knew not whence--sometimes a shilling and sometimes\neightpence, \"never more\"--devil-worship did not seem such a bad trade\nafter all. She further said that her retainer, Bunne, once carried Thomas\nGardler out of a window; and that twenty years ago she promised her soul\nto the devil, and that he wrote the covenant between them in her blood,\npromising to be her servant for that space of time, which time was now\nalmost expired; that Jane Hot, Elizabeth Harris, and Joan Argoll, were her\nfellows; that Elizabeth Harris curst the boat of one John Woodcott, \"and\nso it came to passe;\" that Goodwife Argoll, curst Mr. Major and John\nMannington, and so it came to pass in these cases too; and that Bunne had\ncome to her twice since in prison, and sucked her \"in the forme of a\nmuce.\" So poor Joan Walliford was hanged, and at the place of execution\nexhorted all good people to take warning by her, and not to suffer\nthemselves to be deceived by the divell, neither for love of money,\nmalice, or anything else, as she had done, but to sticke fast to God; for\nif she had not first forsaken God, God would not have forsaken her.\n\nJoan Cariden, widow, said that about three quarters of a year since, \"as\nshe was in the bed about twelve or one of the clocke in the night, there\nlay a 'rugged soft thing' upon her bosome which was very soft, and she\nthrust it off with her hand; and she saith that when she had thrust it\naway she thought God forsooke her, and she could never pray so well since\nas she could before; and further saith that shee verily thinks it was\nalive.\" On a second examination she said that the divell came to her in\nthe shape of a \"black rugged Dog in the night time, and crept into the bed\nto her, and spake to her in a mumbling tongue.\" Two days after she made\nfurther revelations of how \"within these two daies,\" she had gone to\nGoodwife Pantery's house, where were other good wives, and where the\ndivell sat at the upper end of the table.\n\nJane Hot said that a thing like a \"hedg-hog\" had usually visited her for\nthese twenty years. It sucked her in her sleep, and pained her, so that\nshe awoke: and lay on her breast, when she would strike it off. It was as\nsoft as a cat. On coming into the gaol she was very urgent on the others\nto confess, but stood out sturdily for her own innocence; saying, \"that\nshe would lay twenty shillings that if she was swum she would sink.\" She\nwas swum and she floated; whereat a gentleman asked her \"how it was\npossible that she could be so impudent as not to confesse herselfe?\" to\nwhom she answered, \"That the Divell went with her all the way, and told\nher that she should sinke; but when she was in the Water he sat upon a\nCrosse beame, and laughed at her.\" \"_These three were executed on Munday\nlast_,\" says the tract in emphatic italics.\n\nIt now came to the turn of Elizabeth Harris. She said that nineteen years\nago the devil came to her in the form of a muse (mouse) and told her she\nshould be revenged. And she was revenged on all who offended her; on\nGoodman Chilman, who said she had stolen a pigge, and who therefore she\nwished might die--and her Impe destroyed him; on Goodman Woodcot, in whose\nHigh (hoy?) her son had been drowned, when \"she wished that God might be\nher revenger, which was her watchword to the Divell\"--and the hoy was cast\naway, as she conceived, in consequence of her wish. And did not Joan\nWilliford's imp tell her that \"though the Boate went chearfully oute it\nshould not come so chearfully home?\" She said further that sundry good\nwives, named, had \"ill tongues;\" and that she had made a covenant with the\ndevil, written in the blood which she had scratched with her nails from\nout her breast.\n\nAlexander Sussums of Melford, Sussex, said he had things which drew his\nmarks, and that he could not help being a witch, for all his kindred were\nnaught--his mother and aunt hanged, his grandmother burnt, and ten others\nquestioned and hanged. At Faversham about this time, three witches were\nhanged, one of whom had an imp-dog, Bun; and on the 9th of September[135]\nJane Lakeland was burnt at Ipswich for having bewitched to death her\nhusband, and Mrs. Jennings' maid, who once refused her a needle and dunned\nher for a shilling. Jane Lakeland had contracted with the devil twenty\nyears ago. He came to her when between sleeping and waking, speaking to\nher in a hollow voice, and offering her her will if she would covenant\nwith him. To which she, assenting, he then stroke his claw into her hand\nand with her blood wrote out the covenant. She had bewitched men and women\nand cows and corn, and sunk ships, and played all the devilries of her\nart, but remained ever unsuspected, holding the character of a pious\nwoman, and going regularly to church and sacrament. She had three\nimps--two little dogs and a mole--and Hopkins burnt her as the best way of\nsettling the question of her sanity or disease.\n\nIt would have been well for all these poor people if their respective\njudges--Sir Matthew Hale included--had had only as much liberality and\ncommon sense as Mr. Gaule, the minister of Stoughton in Huntingdonshire;\nfor though Gaule was no wise minded to give up his belief either in the\ndevil or in witches, he utterly repudiated Matthew Hopkins and his tribe\nand his ways, and condemned his whole manner of proceeding, from first to\nlast. He preached against him, and when he heard a rumour of his visiting\nStoughton he strongly opposed him, whereupon Matthew wrote this insolent\nletter, which Mr. Gaule printed as a kind of preface to his book of\n\"Select Cases,\" put out soon after.\n\n\"My Service to your Worship presented. I have this Day received a letter,\n&c., to come to a Town called Great Stoughton, to search for evil disposed\nPersons, called Witches (though I heare your Minister is farre against us\nthrough Ignorance:) I intend to come the sooner to heare his singular\nJudgement in the Behalfe of such Parties; I have known a Minister in\nSuffolk preach as much against this Discovery in a Pulpit, and forced to\nrecant it, (by the Committee) in the same place. I much marvaile such evil\nMembers should have any (much more any of the Clergy) who should dayly\npreach Terrour to convince such Offenders, stand up to take their Parts,\nagainst such as are Complainants for the King and Sufferers themselves,\nwith their Families and Estates. I intend to give your Towne a visite\nsuddenly. I am to come to Kimbolton this Week, and it shall be tenne to\none, but I will come to your Town first, but I would certainly know afore,\nwhether your Town affords many Sticklers for such Cattell, or willing to\ngive and afford as good Welcome and Entertainment, as other where I have\nbeene, else I shall wave your Shire, (not as yet beginning in any Part of\nit myself) and betake me to such Places, where I doe, and may persist\nwithout Controle, but with Thanks and Recompense. So I humbly take my\nleave and rest, Your Servant to be Commanded,\n\n\"MATTHEW HOPKINS.\"\n\n\nI have not been able to find what was the result of this letter, but I do\nnot suppose that Hopkins, who was a great coward like all tyrants, cared\nto brave even the small danger of one minister's opposition, not knowing\nhow many \"sticklers for such cattle\" might be at his back. In his Apology,\nor \"Certaine Queries Answered, which have been and are likely to be\nobjected against Matthew Hopkins, in his way of finding out Witches,\" he\nsays that \"he never went to any towne or place, but they rode, writ, or\nsent often for him, and were (for ought he knew) glad of him;\" and if this\nwas true, Mr. Gaule most likely was rid of him at Great Stoughton, and\none rood of English land left undefiled. Besides, his hands were full\nelsewhere; for when we think that at Bury St. Edmunds eighteen persons\nwere hanged on one day alone, and a hundred and twenty more left lying in\nprison, all through his instrumentality, we must imagine that he had\nenough to do in places where he was caressed and desired, not to forbear\ntroubling those where he was abhorred and might run some danger.\n\n\nMR. CLARK'S EXAMPLES.\n\nA few other men, too, were about as sane as Mr. Gaule on this maddest of\nall mad subjects. Mr. Clark, a minister--and the ministers were generally\nthe worst--had a marvellous allowance of common sense, remembering the\ntimes. A certain parishioner of his cried out that she was grievously\nbeset by a neighbour who came in the spirit, that is, as an apparition, to\nteaze and torment her. Mr. Clark, the minister, knew the accused woman,\nand believed in her innocency; but it happened one day, by one of those\ncurious coincidences which, by-the-bye, are so often exaggerated into far\nmore significance than they deserve, that the suspected woman while\nmilking her cow was struck by it on the forehead, and naturally fell\na-bleeding. At that moment, or said to be at that moment, her \"spectre\"\nappeared to the afflicted person, and she, pointing out the place where it\nstood, desired some of those who were with her to strike at it. They did\nso, and she said they fetched blood. Hereupon a posse of them went to the\nsupposed witch, and found her with her forehead bleeding, just as the\nafflicted had said. There was no question now of doubt, and they rushed\noff to Mr. Clark to tell them what they had seen, and demand that she be\nput to the proof. Mr. Clark went to the woman and asked what had made her\nforehead bleed? She told him, a blow from her cow's horn; \"whereby he was\nsatisfy'd that it was a Design of Satan to render an innocent person\nsuspected.\" Another instance of the same kind of thing happened at\nCambridge. A man believed that a certain widow sent her imps, as cats, to\nbewitch and torment him. One night as he lay in bed one of these imps came\nwithin reach, and he struck it on the back: when it vanished away, as was\nto be expected. The next day the man sent to inquire of his old enemy, and\nfound that she had a sore back; at which he rejoiced exceedingly, having\nnow in his hands the clew which would guide him to revenge and her to\njustice and the scaffold. But Mr. Day, her surgeon, stopped his triumph\nbefore it was ripe, and cut the clew before it had spun out; telling him\nthat the sore back was nothing but a boil, which had gathered, headed, and\nhealed, like any other boil, and that it could have had no connexion\nwhatever with the blow which he had so valiantly given the cat-imp when in\nbed. So this bit of cruelty was put a stop to, and the poor old creature,\nwith a boil on her back, slept her last sleep unhastened by the hangman.\nAnother wretched being who had been kept without sleep or food for\ntwenty-four hours, pricked, tried, and tortured into a state of temporary\nimbecility, at last confessed to her imp Nan; but a gentleman in the\nneighbourhood, very indignant at the folly and barbarity of the whole\nthing, rescued the poor victim, and made her eat some meat and go to\nsleep. When she woke up she said she knew nothing of what she had\nconfessed, but that she had a pullet which she sometimes called Nan, and\nwhich of a surety was no imp, but an honest little hen that had to lay\ngood eggs some day, and be eaten at table when her work was done.\n\n\nTHE NEWCASTLE PRICKERS.\n\nHopkins was not the only one of his trade in England, for Ralph Gardner,\nin his \"England's Grievance Discovered\" (1655), speaks of two prickers,\nThomas Shovel and Cuthbert Nicholson, who, in 1649 and 1650, were sent by\nthe Newcastle magistrates into Scotland, there to confer with a very able\nman in that line, and bring him back to Newcastle. They were to have\ntwenty shillings, but the Scotchman three pounds, per head of all they\ncould convict, and a free passage there and back. When these wretches got\nto any town--for they tried all the chief market towns of the\ndistrict--the crier used to go round with his bell, desiring \"all people\nthat would bring in any complaint against any woman for a witch, they\nshould be sent for and tryed by the person appointed.\" As many as thirty\nwomen were brought at once into the Newcastle town-hall, stript, pricked,\nand twenty-seven set aside as guilty. This said witch-finder told\nLieut.-Colonel Hobson that \"he knew women, whether they were witches or\nno, by their looks; and when the said person was searching of a personable\nand good-like woman, the said Colonel replyed and said, Surely this woman\nis none, and need not be tried; but the Scotchman said she was, for all\nthe Town said she was, and therefore he would try her: and presently, in\nsight of all the people, laid her body naked to the Waste, with her\ncloaths over her head, by which Fright and Shame all her bloud contracted\ninto one part of her body, and then he ran a Pin into her Thigh, and then\nsuddenly let her Coats fall, and then demanded whether she had nothing of\nhis in her body, but did not bleed, but she, being amazed, replied little,\nand then he put his hand up her coats and pulled out the pin and set her\naside as a guilty person and child of the Devil, and fell to try others,\nwhom he made guilty. Lieut.-Colonel Hobson, perceiving the alteration of\nthe foresaid woman by her blood settling in her right parts, caused that\nwoman to be brought again, and her cloaths pulled up to her Thigh, and\nrequired the Scot to run the pin in the same place, and then it gushed out\nof blood, and the said Scot cleared her, and said she was not a child of\nthe Devil.\"\n\nIf this Scotch witch-finder had not been stopped he would have found half\nthe women in the north country witches; at last Henry Ogle got hold of\nhim, and \"required Bond of him to answer the Sessions;\" but he got away to\nScotland, and so escaped for the time. Fifteen women lay in prison,\ncharged by him, and were executed--all protesting their innocence; and\n\"one of them, by name Margaret Brown, beseeched God that some remarkable\nsign might be seen at the time of their execution, to evidence their\ninnocency; and as soon as ever she was turned off the Ladder her blood\ngushed out upon the people to the admiration of the beholders.\" Which\ntouching little history we must relegate to the realms of fable and\ndelusion, like others just as sad and supernatural. This precious wretch\n(was it John Kincaid?) was hung in Scotland, when the magistrates and\npeople had got tired of him and his cruelty, and at \"the gallows he\nconfessed that he had been the death of two hundred and twenty men and\nwomen in England and Scotland, simply for the sake of the twenty\nshillings a head blood-money.\" Truly it was time for brave Ralph Gardner\nto write his bold and scorching \"England's Grievance Discovered,\" when\nsuch monstrous crimes as these might be done without even the colour of a\nmonstrous law.\n\nIn \"Sykes's Local Records\" mention is made of a curious little entry in\nthe parish books of Gateshead, near Newcastle: \"Paid as M{ris} Watson's\nwhen the Justices call to examine witches, 3{s} 4{d}; for a graue for a\nwitch, 6{d}; for trying the witches, L1. 5.\" This was in 1649, in which\nyear Jean Martin, \"the myller's wyfe of Chattim,\" was executed for a\nwitch, and the authorities of Berwick sent for the witch-finder to come\nand try witches there, promising that no violence should be done him by\nthe townspeople. In the parish register of Hart, under the date of July\n28, 1582, the office of Master Chancellor against Allison Lawe, of Hart,\nwas brought into requisition. Allison was \"a notourious sorcerer and\nenchanter,\" but was pulled up in the midst of her evil career, and\nsentenced to a milder punishment than she would have had a century later.\nNotorious witch and enchanter as she was, all she had to suffer was open\npenance once in the market-place at Durham, with a paper on her head\nsetting forth her offences, once in Hart church, and once in Norton\nchurch; but what was the award to Janet Bainbridge and Jannet Allinson, of\nStockton, \"for asking counsell of witches, and resorting to Allison Lawe\nfor the cure of the sicke,\" we are not told. The madness which possessed\nall men's minds in the next century had not then begun to rage: the storm\nthat was to burst over the world was then giving forth only its warning\nmutterings, and it was reserved for a later age, with all its progress in\nart and science and freedom of thought and religious knowledge, to lay\nthe coping-stone to the most monstrous temple of iniquity which fear has\never raised to ignorance. It is a humiliating thought; humiliating, too,\nthe milder phases of this same fury which have so often possessed society;\nbut it must be remembered that, though each wave of the tide recedes, each\nsucceeding wave dashes farther over the reach, and the long lines of\nsea-wrack mark the point of progress as well as the point of declension.\n\n\nTHE WITCH IN THE BRAKE.[136]\n\nAt Droitwich, in Worcestershire, a boy, looking for his mother's cow, saw\na bush in a brake move as if something was there. Thinking it to be his\nmother's cow he went to the place, but found no cow, only an old woman who\ncried \"Ooh!\" and so frightened the lad that he could not speak\nintelligibly. But no one knew what he meant by his strange mouthings and\nmutterings, until one day, seeing the old woman eating porridge before Sir\nEdward Barret's door, he rushed up to her, and flung her porridge in her\nface, and otherwise behaved violently and ill. The neighbours, thinking\nthere was something in it, apprehended her as a witch, and took her to the\nChecker Prison. At night, the mother of the boy, hearing a great noise\noverhead, ran up stairs and found her son with the leg of a form in his\nhand, fighting furiously with something in the window; but what it was she\ncould not see. He then put on his clothes and ran to the prison, midway\nrecovering his speech. When he got there he found that the gaoler had kept\nthe witch without food or sleep till she would say the Lord's Prayer and\n\"God bless the boy:\" which pious exercise she had completed at the very\nmoment when his speech was restored. When the boy complained to the gaoler\nof his negligence in letting her out to hurt and annoy him, the gaoler\nanswered that he had kept her very safe. \"Nay,\" says the boy, \"for she\ncame and sat in my chamber window, and grinned at me; whereupon I took up\na form and banged her:\" the gaoler looked and they found the marks. She\nwas a Lancashire woman, who, when Duke Hamilton was defeated, and there\nwas a scarcity in those parts, \"wandred abroad to get victuals.\" She was\nhanged, poor half-starved vagrant!\n\n\nTHE TEWKESBURY WITCH THAT SUCKED THE SOW.\n\nAbout the same time a Tewkesbury man had a sow and a litter of pigs: the\nsow with abundance of milk, but the pigs lean and miserable. He concluded\nthat something which had no right to it came and robbed his piglings of\ntheir milk; so he watched; and sure enough a \"black four-footed Creature\nlike a Pole-Cat\" came and beat away the pigs and sucked the sow; but the\nfarmer got a pitchfork and ran it into the thigh of the pole-cat, which\nstruggled so mightily that, though it was nailed to the ground, it got\naway and made off. When he asked some neighbours, standing near, what they\nhad seen, they said they had only seen a wench go by, with blood falling\nfrom her as she went. They caught the wench and searched her, and, sure\nenough, found her wounded as the man said he had wounded the thing sucking\nhis sow. She was apprehended, tried, and hanged, because she made herself\ninto a creature like a black pole-cat, and went and sucked the farmers'\nsows. \"These two Relations, I received from a Person of Quality, of good\nAbility and of unquestionable Credit, who was present at both the Tryals,\nand wrote them in his Presence, and afterwards read them to him; and he\nassured me they were very true in all the Particulars, as they were given\nin Evidence,\" says the author of the \"Collection of Modern Relations\"\ncomplacently.\n\n\nTHE DEVIL'S DELUSION.[137]\n\nThat same year, in the month of July, a man and woman, John Palmer and\nElizabeth Knott, were hanged at St. Albans for curing folks of disease\nwithout the leave and license of the authorities, and by the aid of the\ndevil. John made some curious revelations. He said, first of all, that\nMarsh of Dunstable was the head of the whole college of witches, and that\nhe could do more than all the rest. Then he went on to say that he, John\nPalmer, had held a blood covenant with the devil for sixty years, and that\nhe bore his brand; also that he had two imps, \"George,\" a dog, and\n\"Jezabell,\" a woman, who did what he would. He had seduced to himself and\nhis arts Elizabeth Knott, his kinswoman; and both together they made a\nclay picture of goodwife Pearls of Norton, which they put under some\nembers, and as the picture consumed away, so did goodwife\nPearls--miserably and fatally. This was out of revenge for hanging a lock\non his door because he did not pay his rent. Then he sent \"George\" to kill\nCleaver's horses; and Elizabeth killed John Laman's cow by sending her\nimp, which was a cat. The cat had promised that she should have all she\nwanted, save money; but poor Elizabeth Knott did not add that puss had\npromised to give them a halter and the gallows at the end of their\nrevenge: which would have been the only truth in the whole relation. She\nkilled Laman's cow, she said, because she had been teazed for money due to\nhim, or rather to his wife. When she was swum, her cat imp came up to her\nand sucked upon her breast; so she said, poor raving creature: but when\nshe was taken out of the water she never saw it more. Palmer also\nconfessed that once he lay as a toad in the way of a young man he hated,\nto get himself hurt. The young man kicked the toad, and Palmer had a sore\nshin; but he bewitched the youth, so that he languished for years in woe\nand torment. Then is given the list of all the people bedevilled and\nbewitched by these two persons, and the account is signed, \"Yours,\nMisodaimon.\" Misodaimon would have done better if he could have called\nhimself Philalethes.\n\n\nTHE WITCH OF WAPPING.\n\nIn April, 1652, Joan Peterson, the witch of Wapping, was hanged at Tyburn\nin just retribution of her sins. Joan had long had an ugly name in that\nmean house of hers on the small island near Shadwell; for she was known to\nheal the sick in a manner more suggestive than satisfactory, and she had a\nblack beast that used to suck her: which every one knew was the art and\nfunction of an imp. That this was true of her who could doubt, for a man\nsaid he had seen it, and it took even less direct testimony than this to\nprove a woman a witch. Let the sceptical read the \"Country Justice\" to see\nwhat subtle threads were strong enough for a witch-halter! One evening a\nneighbour woman was watching by the cradle of a child who was strangely\ndistempered. In jumped a black cat, coming no one knew whence, and stopped\nher cradling. This woman, and another watching with her, flung the\nfire-fork at the cat, when it vanished as quickly as it had come. In an\nhour's time it came again from the other side: one of the women raised her\nfoot and kicked it; and immediately her foot and leg swelled, and were\nvery sore and painful. Then, terrified, they called the master of the\nhouse, told him that they could not watch in a place so beset with evil\nspirits, and left him and the child to get on as they could. On their way\nhome they lighted on a baker, who told them that he had just met a big\nblack cat which had affrighted him so that his hair stood all on end; and\nwhen the women told their tale, he said \"on his conscience he thought it\nwas Mother Peterson, for he had met her going towards the island a little\nwhile before.\" When on his oath, under examination, this valiant baker\ndeclared that he had never been afraid of any cat before in his life; and\nto a further question answered, \"No, he had never seen such a cat before,\nand he hoped in God he should never see the like again.\" But what\nconnection old Joan Peterson was assumed to have with this mysterious\nblack cat remains a mystery to this day: it was none to the judge and\njury, who condemned her to be hanged with safe and tranquil minds.\n\n\nTHE GEOLOGICAL BEWITCHMENT.[138]\n\nIn April, 1652, Mary Ellins, aged nine years, daughter of Edward Ellins,\nof Evesham in the county of Worcester, was playing in the fields with some\nneighbours' children. They were gathering cowslips in a pretty innocent\nway, in which it would have been well if they had been contented to\nremain; but on passing by a ditch they saw crouching therein one Catherine\nHuxley, an old woman of no very good repute, generally supposed to be a\nwitch of the worst kind, and quick at casting an evil eye when offended.\nThe children seeing her, took up stones to throw at her, calling her\n\"witch\" and other opprobrious names; whereat old Catherine cursed them,\nand especially Mary Ellins, who made herself conspicuous as the chief\ntormentor. Her curses had the desired effect. Mary went home, bewitched,\nand who but Catherine had done it? For ever from that day she had strange\nand troublesome passages with stones, so that it seemed as if the child\nhad fed upon stones, and nothing but stones, of all kinds of geological\nformation. Scores of people went to see them: they were handled, and\nlooked at, and reasoned about, and discussed, and yet so many as ever\nmight come away, more still remained behind, and the supply was never\nfailing. When Mary's extraordinary power of elaborating flint and granite\nand boulder and pebble in her young body had become troublesome and\nexpensive, and the parents wanted to get rid of the whole concern, they\nundertook the prosecution of old Catherine, and _on this evidence alone,\nthat she had cursed their daughter, and that their daughter had since\nthen had extraordinary discharges of stones_, the old woman was condemned\nand executed--hung up as a public show at Worcester in the bonny summer\nmonths of 1652. As soon as she was hanged Mary had instant and complete\nrelief; and hid no more pebbles in her pockets to delude good, credulous,\nprayerful Mr. Baxter into the profound belief that she was bewitched.\n\n\nTHE BURNING BEWITCHMENT.[139]\n\nBrightling of Sussex, too, where now we have our sea-side London, was\nunder a cloud, with the devil in actual human form possessing the place\nand haunting good folk out of their proper wits; for Joseph Cruttenden's\nhouse was bewitched, and they were sore holden how to restore the spirit\nof grace within it, and exorcise the spirit of evil. Joseph Cruttenden had\na young servant girl, to whom one day came an old woman, unknown, saying\nto her that sad calamities were coming on her master's family by-and-bye,\nbut that she was not to speak of them to any one; for he and his dame\nshould be haunted, and their house fired and bewitched. She was to be\nparticularly careful not to give warning of this to any, for if she did,\nthe devil would tear her in pieces. The girl kept her own counsel; of\ncourse she did; there would have been no sport else: and that very night\nthe troubles began. As Joseph and his wife lay in bed, dirt and dust and\nrubbish of all kinds were thrown at them, so that there was no way of\nescaping the handfuls of filth flung fast and furiously, and all the doors\nand windows shook as with a storm, though the air was still outside. On\nanother night the house was set on fire in many places at once, flashing\nout like gunpowder; and as fast as one corner was extinguished another\nbegan; for they had no sooner trodden out the ashes and gone to another\npart, than they flamed up afresh, and they had all their work to do over\nagain. Some said that a thing like a black bull was seen tumbling about in\nthe flames; but Mr. Baxter halts at this, and declines to endorse it. At\nanother time the furniture was all flung about, and a wooden \"tut\" came\nflying through the air, and a horseshoe struck the man on the breast, and\nthere was no peace night or day for the black bull, the fire, and all the\nother things besetting. And then the man confessed that he had been a\nthief long time agone, whereby Satan had this extraordinary power over\nhim; and the girl, despising the threat of the devil's tearing her to\npieces, confessed to her mistress what the old woman had said. So the\ncountry was searched for an old woman answering the maid's description,\nand a poor old wretch was pitched upon as being most like. She was sent\nfor and examined--watched for twenty-four hours; but nothing seems to have\ncome of it this time. The girl \"thought\" she was \"like\" the same woman as\nhad spoken to her, yet declined to swear positively. But the old woman had\na bad name. She had been suspected as a witch before, \"and been had to\nMaidstone to clear herself,\" which it seems she had done, for she got off,\nand had been living near Brightling ever since. She had a narrow escape\nnow, for the country people were much excited against her, and naturally\ndid not wish the presence of one who could haunt their houses with fire\nand dirt, and a big black bull tumbling about at his will. Had the maid\nhad one grain less of conscience, this nameless wretch would have closed\nher earthly career a few years too soon; as it was she got off, and\n\"lived miserably about Burwast ever since.\" It was a small sign of grace\nin that young jade that she would not swear away the life of an innocent\nwoman to conceal her own childish tricks. It was not often that the\naccusing witnesses showed even this scant mercy to their victims, for the\nexcitement of the game seemed to be in the largest amount of cruelty that\ncould be perpetrated within the rules.\n\n\nTHE STRINGY MEAT.[140]\n\n\"Kent, the first Christian, last conquered, and one of the most\nflourishing and fruitful Provinces of England, is the Scene, and the\nbeautiful Town of Maidstone, the Stage, whereon this Tragicall Story was\npublicly acted at Maidstone Assizes, last past.\"\n\nIn this Christian province and most beautiful country, Anne Ashby, Anne\nMartyn, Mary Browne, Mildred Wright, and Anne Wilson, all of Cranbrooke,\nand Mary Reade, of Lenham, were brought before Sir Peter Warburton,\ncharged with \"the Execrable and Diabolicall crime of Witchcraft.\" Anne\nAshby, \"who was the chiefe Actresse, and who had the greatest part in this\nTragedy,\" and Anne Martyn were \"confessing\" witches; but their confessions\ndid not amount to much, compared with the more highly spiced accounts of\nother witches. That they had both known the devil as a man, and in\ndishonesty and sin, was of course one of the chief items of their\nconfession, as it was of most witches; but Anne Ashby further informed the\nBench that the devil had given them each a piece of flesh, which,\nwhensoever they should touch, would give them their desires; and that this\npiece of flesh was hid somewhere among the grass. As was proved: for upon\nsearch it was found. Of a sinewy substance and scorched was this\nredoubtable talisman, for it was both seen and felt by this Observator,\nE. G., and reserved for public view at the sign of the Swan in Maidstone.\nAnne Ashby had an imp too, called \"Rug,\" which sometimes came out of her\nmouth like a mouse, and was of so malicious and venificall a nature that a\ncertain groom belonging to Colonel Humfrey's regiment, for sport, said,\n\"Come Rug into my mouth,\" and the said groom was dead in a fortnight\nafter: \"as it is reported,\" adds E. G. with saving grace. Anne was\nhysterical, poor soul: and \"in view of this Observation, fell into an\nextasie before the Bench, and swell'd into a monstrous and vast bigness,\nscreeching and crying out dolefully.\" When she recovered they asked her if\nshe had been possessed by the devil at that time, to which she made answer\n\"that she did not know that, but that her Spirit Rug had come out of her\nmouth like a mouse.\" After they were \"cast\" and judgment had been\npronounced against them she and Anne Martyn pleaded that they were with\nchild: but, being pressed on this point, they confessed that it was by no\nman of honest flesh and blood, but by the devil, their customary spouse.\nThe plea was not suffered to stand. For proof against the rest, all that\nis recorded by E. G. is, that when pricked neither Mary Browne, nor Anne\nWilson, nor yet Mildred Wright felt pain, or lost blood; and that Mary\nRead had a visible teat under her tongue which she did show to this\nObservator as well as to many others. But they were all hanged, at the\ncommon place of execution; though some there were who wished that they\nmight be burnt instead, for burning had such virtue, that it prevented the\nblood of a witch \"becomming hereditary to her Progeny in the same evill,\nwhich by hanging is not.\" The hangers, however, carried the day, and the\nblood of the progeny was left to take its chance of hereditary evil. It\nwas supposed that these six witches, to whom were added five other\npersons, had bewitched nine children, one man, and one woman, lost five\nhundred pounds' worth of cattle, and wrecked much corn at sea.\n\n\nTHE LOST WIFE.[141]\n\nThat same month and year saw a strange matter of witchcraft at Warwick.\n\"In Warwick Town one Mrs. Katherine Atkins, a Mercer's Wife, standing at\nher Door on Saturday night, the 24 July 1652. A certain unknown Woman came\nto her and sayd, Mistris, pray give me two-pence, she answered, two-pences\nare not so plentifull, and that she would give her no Mony. Pray Mistress,\nsayd she, then give me that Pin, so she took the Pin off her sleeve and\ngave her, for which she was very thankfull, and was going away. Mistress\nAtkins seeing her so thankfull for a Pin, called her again, and told her\nif she would stay, she would fetch some victuals for her, or give her\nsome thread, or something out of the shop. She answered, she would have\nnothing else, and bid a pox of her victuals, and swore (by God) saying,\nYou shall be an hundred miles off within this week, when you shall want\ntwo-pence as much as I, and so she went grumbling away.\n\n\"Hereupon the sayd Mistress Atkins was much troubled in mind, and did\nadvise with some Friends what were best to be done in such a case, but\nreceiving no resolution from any one what to do, she attended the Event\nwhat might befall within such a time, and upon the 29 of July she exprest\nto a kinsman, Mr. Nicholas Bikar, that she was much troubled about the\nforsayd businesse, but hoped the time was so much expired, that it would\ncome to nothing.\n\n\"But the sayd Thursday night, betwixt the hours of 8 and 9, She, going\ninto the Shop, and returning thence in the Entry adjoyning to the sayd\nShop, she was immediately gone, by what means and whither we do not know,\nnor can we hear of upon enquiry made to this present.\n\n\"The desire of her Husband and Friends is of all the Inhabitants of this\nNation, That if they hear of any such Party in such a lost condition as is\nbefore expressed, That there may be speedy Notice given thereof to her\nHusband in Warwick, and that all convenient Provisions, both of Horse and\nMony may be made for the conveying of her to the place aforesayd, and such\nas shall take pains, or be at expences herein shall be sufficiently\nrecompenced for the same, with many thanks.\n\n\"It's likewise desired that Ministers in London, and elsewhere, when the\nnotice of these presents shall come, would be pleased to present her sad\ncondition to God in their severall Congregations. The truth hereof we\ntestifie, whose names are subscribed.\n\n                  { Richard Vennour.\n  John Halleford. { Hen. Butler, Ministers of Warwick.\n                  { Joseph Fisher, Minister.\n\n\nDR. LAMB AND HIS DARLING.[142]\n\nDr. Lamb, Buckingham's domestic physician in times past, and his maid Anne\nBodenham, both met with a tragical fate, though not in the same year, for\nDr. Lamb was brutally murdered for a conjuror and wizard by a mob in 1640,\nwhile Anne Bodenham was not executed until 1653. That Lamb was a terrible\nnecromancer is testified by Richard Baxter, in his 'World of Spirits,' a\nbook \"written for the conviction of Sadducees and Infidels,\" but which now\nwould convince none but the weak or half crazed of anything beyond Richard\nBaxter's own exceeding credulity and want of critical faculty. His story\nof Dr. Lamb's necromancy is so curious, it had better be given verbatim,\nfor to translate would be to ruin it.\n\n\"Dr. Lamb, who was killed by the Mob for a Conjuror about 1640, met one\nMorning Sir Miles Sands and Mr. Barbor in the Street, and invited them to\ngo and drink their Mornings Draught at his House: Discoursing about his\nArt, he told them that if they would hold their Tongues, and their Hands\nfrom medling with any thing, he would shew them some Sport. So falling to\nhis Practice in the middle of the Room springs up a Tree; sone after\nappeared three little Fellows, with Axes on their Shoulders, and Baskets\nin their Hands, who presently fell to work, cut down the Tree, and carried\nall away. But Mr. Barbor observing one Chip to fall on his Velvet Coat, he\nslips it into his Pocket, That Night when he and his Family were in Bed,\nand asleep, all the Doors and Windows in the House opened and clattered,\nso as to awaken and affright them all. His Wife said, _Husband, you told\nme you was at Dr. Lamb's this Day, and I fear you medled with something_.\nHe replied, _I put a Chip into my Pocket_. _I pray you_, said she, _fling\nit out, or we shall have no Quiet_. He did so, and all the Windows and\nDoors were presently shut, and all quiet, so they went to sleep.\"\n\nWith such powers of conjuration and sorcery as these, it is not surprising\nif Dr. Lamb's character tainted that of Anne Bodenham his maid; for the\nvery fact of their living together under the same roof was inimical enough\nto Anne's reputation. We hear nothing of her for some years, beyond that\nshe lived near New Sarum, was married to one Edward Bodenham, \"clothyer,\"\nand that she was eighty years of age at the time of her trial. So at least\nsays Edmund Bower, in his \"Doctor Lamb revived.\" But her getting into\ntrouble at all proves that she had long lived under the suspicion of\ncommonly practising witchcraft and sorcery; for Anne Styles, the accuser,\nhad been backwards and forwards to her on her own account scores of times,\nand thought nothing of it; neither was it considered wonderful when Mr.\nMason, son-in-law of Richard Goddard, Anne Styles's master, sent her to\nAnne Bodenham to learn now their lawsuit would turn. Bodenham, who had a\nknack of \"foretelling things to come, and helping men to their stolen\ngoods, and other such like feats,\" expressed no surprise, but at once\nbegan her conjurations. \"She took her staff, and there drew it about the\nhouse, making a kinde of a Circle, and then took a book, and carrying it\nover the Circle with her hands, and taking a green glasse, did lay it upon\nthe book, and placed in the Circle an earthern Pan of Coals, wherein she\nthrew something, which burning caused a very noisome stink, and told the\nMaid she should not be afraid of what she should then see, for now they\nwould come (they are the words she used), and so calling Belzebub,\nTormentor, Satan, and Lucifer appear, there suddenly arose a very high\nwind, which made the house shake, and presently the back door of the house\nflying open, there came five Spirits, as the Maid supposed, in the\nlikenesse of ragged Boyes, some bigger than others, and ran about the\nHouse, where she had drawn the staff: and the witch threw down upon the\nground crums of bread, which the Spirits picked up, and leapt over the Pan\nof Coals oftentimes, which she set in the midst of the Circle, and a Dog\nand a Cat of the witches danced with them; and after some time the witch\nlooked again in her book, and threw some great white Seeds upon the\nground, which the said Spirits picked up, and so in a short time the wind\nwas laid and the witch going forth at the back door the Spirits vanished.\"\nAfter which Anne told the girl that Mr. Mason should demand fifteen\nhundred pounds, and one hundred and fifty pounds per annum of Mr. Goddard,\nand if it was denied he was to take the law and prosecute. For all which\nAnne Bodenham received the sum of three shillings: little enough too,\nconsidering the charges she must have been at for noisome roots and magic\nlanthorns, not to speak of the chance of being haled off to prison\nwhenever the maid Anne Styles might choose to accuse her.\n\nAnother time Anne Styles was sent to her by Mrs. Goddard, to find where\nwas hidden the poison which she said her two young step-daughters were\ndesigning to give her, but which Anne Styles herself had bought, as she\nsaid, by the witch's request. This Anne Bodenham denied. The witch took\nher stick as before, going through the same forms of conjuration; when on\nher adjuring \"Belzebub, Tormentor, Lucifer, Satan,\" to appear, there came\nout of the mist first a little boy, who then turned into a snake, and then\ninto \"a shagged dog with great eyes, which went about in the Circle.\" And\nafter she had burnt her noisome herbs again, and looked in her Magic\nbook--her Book of Charms as she called it--she took a glass and showed in\nthat \"Mistress Sarah Goddard's Chamber, the colour of the Curtains, and\nthe bed turned up the wrong way, and under that part of the bed where the\nBolster laye she shewed the poison in a white paper.\" It was no discredit\nto maid or witch that this poisoning matter was found a mere suspicion and\ndelusion, and that the young ladies never designed to poison their\nmother-in-law; though she, on the other hand, sent to Bodenham for charms\nand poisons against them. This time Anne got vervain and dill, which the\nlittle ragged boys (spectres, or spirits, or imps) gathered for her, in\nreturn for which she threw them bread which they ate, dancing about, then\nvanished on their mistress reading in her book. The witch gave the maid\nthe leaves powdered, and dried--one packet of each--while, in a third\npacket, she put the parings of her nails; all of which the maid was to\ngive to her mistress. The powder was to be put into Mistresses Sarah and\nAnne Goddard's drink or broth, to give them hideous indigestion rather too\ncoarsely expressed for modern reading; the leaves were to rub about the\nrim of the pot, to make their teeth fall out of their heads; and the\nparing of the nails to make them drunk and mad. But Mrs. Goddard only\nlaughed when she got these charms, and said \"they were brave things:\" she\ndid not use them, luckily for her; though the young ladies would not have\nbeen much the worse, save for the white poison before mentioned.\n\nAnne Bodenham had taken a great fancy to this servant girl, and wanted her\nto live with her, telling her that she would teach her all she knew, and\nenable her to do as she did; asking her, too, whether she would go to\nLondon high or low: for if high she should be carried through the air and\nbe there in two hours, if low she should be taken at Sutton's town end,\nand before, \"unless she had help.\" When she thus sought to seduce the\ngirl, Anne Styles asked what she could do, whereupon Bodenham\nincontinently appeared in the form of a great black cat, and lay along by\nthe chimney; but the girl being much frightened, she appeared in her own\nshape again, and tempted her no more. But first, before she would let her\ngo, she made her swear to seal with her body and blood a vow that she\nwould never discover what she had seen; so she took her forefinger and\npricked it, and filled a pen with the blood, and made her write in a book,\none of the imps--like \"great boys with long shagged black hair,\" this\ntime--having his hand or claw on the witch's, while Anne Styles wrote. And\nwhen she had done writing, the witch said \"Amen,\" and the maid said\n\"Amen,\" and the spirits said \"Amen\" each: and the spirit gave the witch a\nbit of silver for the maid, which he first bit. The maid's hand touched\nhis, and she found that his was cold. Then Bodenham stuck two pins in her\nhead-dress, which she bid her keep, and be gone; saying, \"I will vex the\nGentlewoman well enough, as I did the man in Clarington Park; which I made\nwalk about with a bundle of Pales on his back all night in a pond of\nwater, and could not lay them down till the next morning.\" The piece of\nsilver, and the hole in her forefinger, the maid showed the judge and jury\nin the trial; and both were held to be conclusive evidence against Dr.\nLamb's unfortunate \"Darling.\" How far Anne Styles may be believed is not\ndifficult to determine; for as to the conjurations about poisoning Mrs.\nGoddard, it came out that she, the maid, had gone to the apothecary's for\nan ounce of arsenic; and then set abroad the report that the two young\nladies had bought it for the purpose of poisoning their step-mother. As\nthe young ladies were not disposed to sit down quietly under this\nsuspicion, they had the report sifted to the bottom, and Anne Styles fled\nin fear; which was the meaning of the witch's demanding how she would like\nto go to London--high or low--by witch's art, or justice's power. Mr.\nChandler, Mr. Goddard's son-in-law, pursued her, and overtook her at\nSutton-town end; when, to save herself from the unpleasant consequences of\nher various misdeeds, beginning with stealing a silver spoon and ending\nwith buying arsenic, she made this \"confession,\" which was safety to her\nbut death to old Anne. Anne earnestly and passionately denied every word\nthe girl said: whereupon Anne Styles, to give greater colour to her story,\nfell into fits, so strong that six men could not hold her. She was drawn\nup high into the air--so at least runs the report--her feet as high as the\nspectators' breasts; and she had scuffles with a black man with no head,\nwho came and tumbled her about, as a little boy deposed. The little boy\nwas sleeping in the same room with her, and he said that the black spirit\ncame to her, and wanted her soul, but the maid answered her soul was none\nof hers to give; that he had got her blood already, but should never have\nher soul; and after a tumbling and throwing of her about rarely, he\nvanished away. At another time the witch was brought to the maid suddenly,\nwhen she instantly closed her eyes and fell back in so deep a sleep that\nthey could not by any means awaken her; but so soon as the witch had gone,\nshe woke up of herself, and was quite well. Anne Bodenham was condemned to\ndie, and there was no help for her; but when sentence was passed, Anne\nStyles fell to bitter weeping and wailing, lamenting her own wickedness,\nand willing that the witch should be reprieved, if possible to the law.\nThis was taken as a sign of her sweet and loving Christian spirit of\nforgiveness; we, who read such signs more clearly by the light of a better\nknowledge, know that it meant simply the weak pity of a selfish\nconscience, grieving for its sin, yet afraid to retract and make amends.\nBeside all this evidence, and its lies, Anne Bodenham had a tame toad\nwhich she wore in a green bag round her neck; and she had a great deal of\nnatural clairvoyance and mesmeric power; and she was evidently a highly\nsuperstitious woman, who believed in her own powers, and was not unwilling\nto aid them by a little extra supernaturalism and good mechanical tricks.\nBut she would confess to no witchcraft; knew nothing of a Red Book half\nwritten over in blood, which red book with its bloody writing contained a\ncatalogue of those who had sold themselves to the devil; though she\nacknowledged that she had a Book of Charms, much as a servant maid of\nto-day might have a Book of Dreams: and that she could say the Creed\nbackwards as well as forwards; and that she sometimes prayed to the\nplanet Jupiter. The time-honoured belief in astrology and the power of the\nplanets might well linger in the brain of an old country woman, who had a\nsmattering of knowledge far beyond her station, and who had dabbled in\nmechanics and the art of conjuring; who could not, moreover, understand\nher own sensitive condition; and who had the alternative, as one of the\nwitnesses said, of passing for a witch or a woman of God. The judge and\njury had a very distinct idea as to which category she ought to be placed\nin; and fully believed what James Bower reports, that she could turn\nherself into a \"mastive Dog, a black Lyon, a white Bear, a Woolf, a\nMonkey, a Horse, a Bull, and a Calf.\" Such a woman as this had no business\nhere on this solid earth, so she was hanged at Salisbury, 1653, dying very\nhard and completely crazed. Before the hour came she wrote a letter to her\nhusband desiring him never to live in his own house again; and she asked\nthe woman who was to \"shroud\" her, to root up all her garden herbs and\nflowers when she should be dead; and she clamoured for a knife to stick\ninto her heart; and she wanted to die drunk, calling for beer on her way\nto execution, and giving her gaolers much trouble to hold her in at all;\nand she would have no psalm sung, and no prayer read, and would forgive\nnone of them, but cursed them all fiercely as she stood on the rungs of\nthe ladder despairing and defying. So miserably she died, poor old wretch!\nand Anne Styles never looked up again into the fair face of heaven without\nthe stain of blood across her hand, and the brand of Cain on her brow.\n\n\nTHE SPRIGHTLY LAD OF SOMERSETSHIRE.[143]\n\nOne certain Sunday afternoon, in November 1657, Richard Jones, \"a\nsprightly youth of twelve,\" living at Shepton Mallet, in Somersetshire,\nbeing left at home alone, and looking abroad as sprightly youth will, saw\nan old woman of the place, by name Jane Brooks, look in at the window. He\nwent to the door to see what she wanted, when she asked him to give her a\npiece of \"close bread,\" and she would give him an apple. He did so, and\nshe thanked him, stroked him down the right side, shook him by the hand,\nand bade him good night. When the father and our coz. Gibson came back,\nthey found the sprightly youth ill, and complaining of pain in the right\nside. He continued in the same state through the night, and on the\nfollowing day became much worse, falling into fits of speechlessness, &c.,\nimmediately after having roasted and eaten the apple which Jane Brooks had\ngiven him. He then told the father that an old woman of the place, name\nunknown but person remembered, had stroked his right side, and thus had\ncaused his illness; whereupon his father decided that all the women of\nShepton Mallet should come to see him, and that in case he was in his fit,\nand not able to speak when the true witch came, he should give a \"jogg,\"\nwhich would be sufficiently expressive. All the women of Shepton Mallet\nwere brought in by turns; but the boy remained quiet until Jane Brooks\nappeared, when he fell into a fit, and was for some time unable to see or\nspeak. Recovering himself, \"he gave his father the Item,\" and drew towards\nJane. She was standing behind her two sisters, but the boy singled her\nout and put his hand upon her; which the father seeing, he flew on the\npoor creature, scratched her face \"above her breath,\" and drew blood.\nAfter this rather rough manner of exorcism, Master Richard Jones cried out\nthat he was well, and condescended to remain well for seven or eight days.\nBut at the end of this time, Alice Coward, sister to Jane, happening to\nmeet him and to say, \"How do you do, my Honey?\" he fell ill again, and\n\"cried out\" on them without intermission. One Sunday he was in his fits,\nhis father and cousin Gibson with him as usual, when he suddenly exclaimed\nthat he \"saw Jane Brooks there\"--pointing to the wall. Cousin Gibson at\nonce struck a knife into the spot; whereupon the sprightly youth cried, \"O\nfather, couz Gibson hath cut Jane Brooks's hand, and 'tis Bloody.\" The\nfather and Gibson on this went to the constable, \"a discreet Person,\" and\ntelling him what had happened, took him with them to Jane's house, where\nthey found her sitting on a stool, with one hand over the other. After a\nfew questions they drew her hand away, and found that which was underneath\nall bloody; which appearance she explained away as well as she could, by\nsaying that it was scratched with a great pin. This kind of thing going on\nfor some time, the pitiful plot grew ripe for execution, and on the 8th of\nDecember Jane Brooks and her sister, Alice Coward, were taken to Castle\nCary to be examined by the justices, Mr. Hunt and Mr. Cary. Here Richard\nperformed all the usual tricks of the bewitched, lying speechless and\nmotionless while the suspected women were in the room; springing up into\ntetanic fits if they laid their hands upon him, or so much as looked\ntowards him; bringing on himself, by his own will, convulsive fits and\ncatalepsy, and many of the more violent symptoms of hysteria, and\ninsisting that the two women came constantly to see him--as\napparitions--\"their Hands cold, their Eyes staring, and their Lips and\nCheeks looking pale.\" \"In this manner on a Thursday about Noon, the Boy\nbeing newly laid in his Bed, Jane Brooks and Alice Coward appeared to him,\nand told him that what they had begun they could not perform. But if he\nwould say no more of it, they would give him Money, and so put a Twopence\ninto his Pocket. After which they took him out of his Bed and laid him on\nthe ground and vanished, and the Boy was found by those that came next\ninto the Room lying on the Floor as if he had been dead.\" This twopence\nhad odd properties. When put upon the fire and made hot, the boy fell ill;\nwhen taken out and cooled, he was all right again. The trick was tried in\nthe presence of many, and was found to answer admirably. Between the 8th\nof December and the 17th of February, he practised another variation of\nthe same air. \"Divers persons at sundry times\" heard a croaking, as of a\ntoad, proceed from the boy, and though they held a candle to his face they\ncould not discern any movement of tongue, teeth, or lips. And this\ncroaking as of a toad repeated incessantly, \"Jane Brooks, Alice Coward,\nJane Brooks, Alice Coward.\" On the 25th of February he performed his\ngreatest feat of all; or was reported to have done so--which did quite as\nwell in those days; for Richard Isles's wife said she saw him raised up\nfrom the ground, mounting gradually higher and higher till he was carried\nfull thirty yards over the garden wall, when, falling at last at one\nJordan's door, he was there found as if dead. Coming to himself, he\ndeclared that Jane Brooks had taken him by the arm, and carried him up, as\nIsles's wife had seen; which fact was told and believed in as a fearful\ninstance of her malicious and wicked sorcery against the sprightly youth.\nAt another time, as many as nine people at once saw him hanging from a\nbeam, his hands placed flat against the wood, and his whole body raised\ntwo or three feet from the ground. He continued to play these\nextraordinary tricks from the 15th of November to the 10th of March; when,\nbeing much wasted and worn, it was deemed advisable to save his life if\nyet there might be time. Jane Brooks was sent to gaol, condemned, and\nhanged at Charde assizes, March 26th, 1658; and Richard Jones, having no\nlonger any inducement to act the possessed, consented to remain with his\nfeet on the ground and his head in the air, according to the laws of\nnature and Newton, and took no more fits, real or simulated, to extort\ncompassion or obtain revenge.\n\n\nTHE WITCHES OF THE RESTORATION.\n\nThe poor witches were always seeing troublous times. At about the time of\nthe Lord Protector's death one was hanged in Norwich and several in\nCornwall. In 1659 two suffered at Lancaster, for crimes which I cannot\ndiscover; while in 1660, on the 14th of May, the Restoration had its\nvictims in the persons of a widow, her two daughters, and a man, who were\ncarried to Worcester gaol on the double charge of witchcraft and high\ntreason. For the eldest daughter had been heard to say that if they had\nnot been taken the king would never have come to England: which was enough\nto frighten all the court into fits. And when they were taken, and tried,\nand condemned, she said further that \"though he now doth come, yet he\nshall not live long but shall die as ill a death as they\" adding that had\nthey not been taken \"they would have made corn like pepper:\" that is, they\nwould have blighted it. As there were many other charges against them,\nthey were swum: when they floated like ducks--or witches; and then they\nwere searched: when the man was found to have five \"bigges,\" two of the\nwomen three, but the eldest daughter only one. When first searched, none\nof these marks were visible on any of the women, whereat the inquisitors\nwere advised to put them flat on their backs and keep their mouths open,\nuntil they should appear; which advice was taken, with the happiest and\nmost palpable results.\n\n\nTHE WITCH-FINDER FOUND\n\nSometimes knavery defeated itself, though unhappily not often, as in the\ncase of the famous witch-finder Mother Baker[144] and the young maid\nStuppeny, of New Romsey in Kent. The young maid Stuppeny was sick, and as\nsickness in those days never meant the natural consequence of filthy\nhabits, filthy food, and filthy habitations, but was by the supernatural\ndevilry of witches and wizards, the parents concluded that their young\nmaid must be bewitched, so set off to old Mother Baker to learn who was\nthe guilty person. Old Mother Baker asked whom they suspected? and they\nmentioned a near neighbour of theirs--particulars not given. \"Yes,\" says\nthe hag, \"it is she, and she has made a heart of wax, which she daily\npricks with pins and knitting-needles, and which is now concealed in the\nhouse, for the destruction of the young maid your daughter.\" So the\nparents Stuppeny searched their house, but found no heart of wax;\nwhereupon old Mother Baker, with big pockets to her sides, said she\nherself must search. And she did search, and turned out the charm from the\nvery spot where she said it was. But certain prying neighbours, whose eyes\nwere sharp and wits clear, had watched old Baker and her pockets; and as\nshe laid the image in a corner that had been most diligently searched and\nlooked into, her cheat was discovered, and the anonymous wretch living\nnext door escaped, while Mother Baker suffered the penalties awarded in\nScot's time to cozenage and deceit with intent to defraud or do ill.\n\n\nDOLL BILBY AND HER COMPEER.[145]\n\nBurton Agnes, in the county of York, was troubled; for Faith Corbet, the\nyoung daughter of Henry Corbet, was taken violently ill, and Alice Huson\nand Doll Bilby had bewitched her. Good Mrs. Corbet--beyond her age in\ngenerous unbelief--refused to entertain her daughter's suspicions; indeed\nshe had chidden her some years ago for calling old Alice a witch, for she\nhad a liking to the poor widow, and kept her about the house, looking\nafter her young turkeys, &c., and was kind and liberal to her, and sought\nto make her wasting life pass as easily as might be. But Miss Faith hated\nthe old woman, and cried out against her as a witch; and when she lost her\ngloves, swore that Alice had taken them to play cantrips with, and that\nshe should never be well again. Then she began to fall into fits, when she\nwould be so terribly tormented that it took two or three to hold her; and\nshe would screech and cry out vehemently, and bite and scratch anything\nshe could lay hold of, all the while exclaiming, \"Ah, Alice, old witch,\nhave I gotten thee!\" And sometimes she would lie down, all drawn together\nin a round, and be speechless and half swooning for days together; and\nthen she would be wildly merry, and as full of antics as a monkey.\nPhysicians were consulted, but none came near to her disorder; and though\nher father carried her about hither and thither, for change of air,\nnothing would cure her, she said, so long as Alice Huson and Doll Bilby\nremained at liberty. Still the father and mother held out, until, one day,\nbefore a whole concourse of people come to look at her in her fits, she\ncried out, \"Oh Faithless and incredulous People! shall I never be believed\ntill it be past Time? For I am as near Death as possibly may be, and when\nthey have got my Life you will repent when it is past Time.\" On hearing\nthis the father went to the minister of Burton Agnes, Mr. Wellfet, and he,\nSir Fr. Boynton--a justice of the peace--and Mr. Corbet himself at last\ndragged the old woman Huson into Faith's chamber. At which Miss Faith gave\na great screech, but presently called for toast and beer; then for\ncordials; and having taken a somewhat large quantity of both, she got up,\ndressed herself, and came down stairs. This, too, after she had been so\nweak that she could not turn herself in bed: which proved that Mother\nHuson had some extraordinary influence over the girl--an influence more\npotent than holy said the bystanders. This happy state did not continue.\nFaith said she should never be well while the two women were at liberty;\nand so it proved; for when they were at last arrested, and held in strict\nsecurity and durance, the young lady pronounced herself healed, and gave\nno one any more trouble. Then Alice Huson was got to make confession to\nMr. Wellfet, the minister, and thus sealed her own doom, and saved the\nprosecution the pain of conviction.\n\nShe said that for three years she had had intercourse with the devil, who,\none day as she was on the moor, appeared to her in the form of a black man\nriding on horseback. He told her she should never want if she would follow\nhis ways and give herself up to him: which Alice promised to do. Then he\nsealed the bargain by giving her five shillings; at another time he gave\nher seven; and often--indeed six or seven times--repeating his gifts to\nthe like munificent extent. He was like a black man with cloven feet,\nriding on a black horse, and Alice fell down and worshipped him, as she\nhad covenanted. And she had hurt Faith Corbet by her evil spirit, for she\ndid, in her apprehension, ride her; and when Mr. Wellfet examined her once\nbefore, the devil stood by, and gave her answers; and she was under the\nCorbets' window as a cat when Mrs. Corbet said she was--for even her\nkindly faith was shaken at last; and Doll Bilby had a hand in all this\nevil too; for Doll wanted to kill Faith outright, but old Alice\ninterposed, thinking they had done enough harm already. She confessed to\nkilling Dick Warmers \"by my wicked heart and wicked eyes;\" and to having\nlent Lancelot Harrison eight shillings of the ten which the devil had\ngiven her at Baxter's door, a fortnight ago, \"about twilight or daygate;\"\nand she had a bigge, or witch mark, where the devil sucked from\nsupper-time till after cockcrowing, twitching at her heart as if it was\ndrawn with pincers the while; and she meant to practise witchcraft four\nyears ago, when she begged old clothes of Mrs. Corbet, and the children\nrefused her; and the devil told her not to tell of Doll Bilby. And to all\nthis raving Timothy Wellfet, minister of Burton Agnes, set his name, and\nso hanged Alice Huson and Doll Bilby at the next York assizes: after which\nMiss Faith Corbet was for ever rid of her fits and fancies.\n\n\nTHE ASTRAL SPIRIT'S ASSAULT.\n\nCan we wonder at anything which it might please those servants of the\ndevil, the witches, to do, when even a spirit--a disembodied ghost--a mere\nappearance--a spectre--an apparition--could audibly box a lad's ears\nbefore a whole room full of spectators, and at last box them so soundly as\nto break his neck, and kill him? Baxter's \"World of Spirits\" gives this\nstory as happening to a barber's apprentice in Cambridge, in the year\n1662. The spectre who killed the boy was in the garb and appearance of a\ngentlewoman; and at about the same hour, as near as they could guess, when\nit boxed the boy's ears and broke his neck at Cambridge, while the father\nwas sitting at dinner with the boy's master at Ely, \"the appearance of a\nGentlewoman comes in, looking very angrily, taking a Turn or two,\ndisappeared.\" It seems that the spectre had that night been endeavouring\nto persuade the boy to leave his apprenticeship and return home to Ely,\nwhere she and he were very free and had long been wont to disport\ntogether, even while company was in the room, and while the father, a\nminister named Franklin, was sitting there. After some treaty the boy\nresolutely said he would not go home, whereupon the spirit gave him a\nsounding box on the ear, which made him very ill; but he rose as usual\nwhen the morning came, though unfit for work or even play. When the master\nheard the story, he rode over to Ely to see Mr. Franklin, and confer with\nhim respecting the uncomfortable and inconvenient desires of the spirit;\nand in the forenoon of the day, the boy sitting by the kitchen fire, his\nmistress being by, suddenly cried out, \"O, mistress, look: there's the\ngentlewoman!\" The mistress looked, but saw nothing, yet soon after heard a\nnoise as of a great box on the ears, and turning round saw the boy bending\ndown his neck: and presently he died. This is the story gravely told by\nBaxter, in the fullest faith that all was as he narrated, and that there\nwas no natural explanation possible to a circumstance which derived its\nonly importance from its supernaturalism.\n\nAnother spirit, a few years later--in 1667--took to haunting a man's house\nat Kinton, six miles from Worcester; and boxed his ears as he sat by the\nfire over against the maid. At which the man cried out, and went away to\nhis son's in the town, not caring to continue where a ghost could make\nitself equal to a living body with bones and muscles, and give him\nundeniable proofs of the same. A minister of the place, Charles Hatt, went\nto the house to exorcise the ghost by prayer, and had not been there long\nbefore \"there was a great noise in the said room, of groaning, or rather\ngruntling, like a Hog, and then a lowd Shriek.\" Mr. Charles Hatt prayed\non; and after the spectre had done its best to frighten him with noises,\nbut finding that the louder it gruntled the louder he prayed, it died\naway, and the man was troubled no more to the day of his death, which\nhappened about two years after.\n\nIf this was a book on spirits instead of on witchcraft many stories from\nBaxter could be given bearing on the question; but, fascinating as they\nare, they are somewhat foreign to my design; so I must pass them by, and\ngo on to the more material, and more guilty, records of the witchcraft\nsuperstition. All the mere spectre or ghost stories are both tame and\ninnocent compared to the witch delusions. At least they caused no\nbloodshed; and if they broke hearts it was not through shame and despair\nand ruin.\n\n\nJULIAN'S TOADS.[146]\n\nAt the Taunton assizes, in 1663, Julian Cox, about seventy years old, was\nindicted before Judge Archer for practising her arts of witchcraft upon a\n\"young Maid, whereby her Body languished, and was impaired of Health.\" And\nfirst were taken proofs of her witchcraft. One witness, a huntsman, swore\nthat one day, as he was hunting not far from Julian's house, he started a\nhare, which the dogs ran very close till it came to a bush; when, going\nround to the other side to keep it from the dogs, he perceived Julian Cox\ngrovelling on the ground, panting and out of breath. She was the hare, and\nhad had just time enough to say the magic stave which changed her back to\nwoman's form again, ere the dogs had caught her. Another man swore that\none day, passing her house as \"she was taking a Pipe of Tobacco upon the\nThreshold of the Door,\" she invited him to come in and join her; which he\ndid; when presently she cried out, \"Neighbour, look what a pretty thing\nthere is!\" and there was \"a monstrous great Toad betwixt his Legs, staring\nhim in the Face.\" He tried to hit it, but could not, whereupon Julian told\nhim to desist striking it and it would do him no hurt; but he was\nfrightened, and went off to his family, telling them that he had seen one\nof Julian Cox her devils. Yet even when he was at home this same toad\nappeared again betwixt his legs, and though he took it out, and cut it in\nseveral pieces, still, when he returned to his pipe, there was the toad.\nHe tried to burn it, but could not; then to beat it with a switch, but the\ntoad ran about the room to escape him; presently it gave a cry and\nvanished, and he was never after troubled with it. A third witness swore\nthat one day, when milking, Julian Cox passed by the yard where he was,\nand \"stooping down scored upon the ground for some small time, during\nwhich time his Cattle ran Mad, and some of them ran their Heads against\nthe Trees, and most of them died speedily.\" Concluding by which signs that\nthey were bewitched, he cut off their ears to burn them, and, while they\nwere on the fire, Julian Cox came in a great heat and rage, crying out\nthat they abused her without cause; but, going slily up to the fire, she\ntook off the ears, and then was quiet. By the laws of witchcraft it was\nshe who was burning, not the beasts' ears. A fourth, as veracious as the\nformer, swore to having seen her \"fly into her own Chamber-window in her\nfull proportion;\" all of which testimony gave weight and substance to the\nmaid's charge.\n\nThe maid was servant at a certain house, where Julian came one day to ask\nfor alms; but the maid gave her a cross answer, and said she should have\nnone; so Julian told the maid she should repent her incivility before\nnight. And she did; for she was taken with convulsions, and cried out to\nthe people of the house to save her from Julian, for she saw her following\nher. In the night she became worse, saying that she saw Julian Cox and the\nblack man by her bedside, and that they tempted her to drink, but \"she\ndefy'd the Devil's Drenches.\" The next night, expecting the same kind of\nconflict, she took up a knife and laid it at the head of her bed. In the\nmiddle of the night came the spiritual Julian and the black man, as\nbefore, so the maid took the knife, and stabbed at Julian, whom she said\nshe had wounded in the leg. The people, riding out to see, found Julian in\nher own house with a fresh wound on her leg, and blood was also on the\nmaid's bed. The next day Julian appeared to the maid and forced her to eat\npins. Her apparition was on the house wall; and \"all the Day the Maid was\nobserv'd to convey her Hand to the House wall, and from the Wall to her\nMouth, and she seem'd by the motion of her Mouth as if she did eat\nsomething.\" So towards night, still crying out on Julian, she was\nundressed, and all over her body were seen great swellings and bunches in\nwhich were huge pins--as many as thirty or more--which she said Julian\nCox, when in the house wall, had forced her to eat. Was not all this\nenough to hang a dozen Julian Coxes? Judge Archer thought so; especially\nwhen was added to this testimony Julian's own enforced confession, of how\nshe had been often tempted by the devil to become a witch, but would never\nconsent; yet how one evening, walking about a mile from her house, she met\nthree persons riding on broom-staves, borne up about a yard and a half\nfrom the ground, two of whom she knew--a witch and a wizard, hanged for\nwitchcraft several years ago--but the third, a black man, she did not then\nknow. He however tempted her to give up her soul, which she did by\npricking her finger and signing her name with her blood. So that, by her\nown showing, as well as by the unimpeachable testimony of reputable\nwitnesses, she was a witch and one coming under the provisions of the\nAwful Verse. And further, as she could not repeat the Lord's Prayer, but\nstumbled over the clause \"And lead us not into Temptation,\" which she made\ninto \"And lead us into temptation,\" or \"And lead us not into no\ntemptation,\" but could in no manner repeat correctly, the judge and jury\nhad but one conclusion to come to, which was that she be hanged four days\nafter her trial. But some of the less blind and besotted spoke harsh words\nof Judge Archer for his zeal and precipitancy, and openly declared poor\nJulian's innocence when advocacy could do her strangled corpse no good.\n\n\nTHE YOUGHAL WITCH.\n\nAbout this time, too, or rather two years before old Julian Cox had been\nseen flying in at her window in full proportion, one Florence Newton, of\nYoughal, was overhauled for her misdeeds towards Mary Longdon. Mary was\nJohn Pyne's servant, and deposed that one day Florence came to where she\nlived and asked her for a bit of beef out of the powdering tub, to which\nMary would not consent (these witnessing servants were always so moral and\nhonest!), saying she had no right to give away her master's beef. The\nwitch, being angry, muttered, \"Thou had'st as good have given it me,\" and\nwent away grumbling. A few days after, meeting with Mary going to the\nwater with a pail of cloth on her head, she came full against her, and\nviolently kissed her, and said, \"Mary, I pray thee let thee and I be\nfriends, for I bear thee no ill will, and I pray thee do thou bear me\nnone.\" Mary does not give her reply, but says that she went home, and in a\nfew days after \"saw a Woman with a Vail over her Face stand by her\nbedside, and one standing by her like a little old Man in silk Cloaths,\nand that this Man, whom she took to be a Spirit, drew the Vail from off\nthe Woman's Face, and then she knew it to be Goody Newton; and that the\nSpirit spake to the Deponent, and would have had her promise him to follow\nhis Advice, and she should have all things after her own Heart; to which\nshe says she answered 'That she would have nothing to say to him, for her\nTrust was in the Lord.'\" After this Mary Longdon was taken very ill,\nvomiting pins and needles and horse-nails and stubbs and wool and straw,\nwhile small stones followed her about the room, and from place to place,\nstriking her sharply on her head and shoulders and arms, then vanishing\naway. She was also strangely put upon by beds, and other such assailants.\nSometimes she was forcibly carried from one bed to another; sometimes\ntaken to the top of the house, or laid on a board betwixt two sollar\nbeams, or put into a chest, or laid under a parcel of wool, or betwixt two\nfeather beds, or (in the day time) between the bed and the mat in her\nmaster's room. All of these pranks done by Florence Newton's Astral\nSpirit, by which Mary maid was bewitched. Florence Newton also bewitched\nto his death David Jones, who had constituted himself one of her watchers\nwhile she was in \"bolts\" in prison. David took great pains to teach her\nthe Lord's Prayer, but Florence, being a witch, could not repeat it\ncorrectly; at last she called out to him, \"David! David! come hither; I\ncan say the Lord's Prayer now.\" Not that she could, for when she came to\nthe clause \"Forgive us our Trespasses,\" she skipped over it, or boggled at\nit, or got round it in some way or other that was not holy; then seizing\nDavid's hand between the bars of the grate she kissed it thankfully; and\nthus and there possessed him, so that he died fourteen days after of that\nstrange languishing disease known to all the world as a bewitchment.\n\n\nTHE WITCHES OF STYLES'S KNOT.[147]\n\nElizabeth Hill, aged thirteen, had strange fits. She was much convulsed\nand contorted; she writhed, foamed, and could with difficulty be held or\nmastered; she had moreover swellings and holes in her flesh, which were\nmade she said by thorns, and whence the bystanders averred they saw the\nchild hook out thorns. Even the clergyman of the parish, William Parsons\nrector of Stoke Trister, added his testimony to the rest: and on the 26th\nof January, 1664, in an examination taken before Robert Hunt, vouched for\nthe truth of the fits, and the swellings, and the black thorns in the\nmidst of the swellings; but he did not add to this testimony the further\nassertion that it was Elizabeth Styles who had bewitched the child, though\nshe herself \"cried out\" on her, and said that she tormented her in her\nfits. Elizabeth Styles was further accused of causing Richard Hill's horse\nto sit down and paw with his fore feet when attempted to be crossed, and\nof having bewitched Agnes Vining by means of a rosy-cheeked apple, which\nwas no sooner eaten than it caused a grievous pricking in Agnes' thigh,\nwho forthwith languished and died, \"her hip rotted, and one of her eyes\nswelled out.\" These are signs of a worse bewitchment than poor old Mother\nStyles's rosy-cheeked apple--signs of the deadly sorcery of scrofula\ninduced by the poverty, dirt, bad food and worse lodging of the times; for\nthe effects of which many a poor wretch lost her life who yet had done no\nmore harm than the nursling at the breast. Robert Hunt the Justice, and\none of our fine old English gentlemen, did not take this materialistic\nview of the matter. When told of Agnes Vining's illness and manner of\ndisease, and seeing Elizabeth Styles looking appalled and concerned, he\nsaid to her: \"You have been an old sinner, you deserve little mercy.\" To\nwhich the poor soul answered, humbly, \"I have asked God for it.\" She then\nsaid that the devil had seduced her, and so began her confession on the\n26th of January--three days after the first accusation by the Hills. She\nsaid that about ten years ago the devil appeared to her as a handsome man\nchanging afterwards to the shape of a black dog; \"that he promised her\nmoney, and that she should live gallantly, and have the Pleasures of the\nWorld for twelve years,\" if only she would sign a certain bond with her\nblood, give him her soul, obey his laws, and let him suck her blood. To\nall of which she consented after four solicitations, whereupon he pricked\nher finger--the mark thereof to be seen at this time--and she, with her\nown blood signed the paper with an O, when the devil gave her sixpence and\nvanished with the bond. Since then he appeared to her constantly, under\nthe forms of a man, a cat, a dog, or a \"fly like a millar\" (a large white\nmoth), as which last he usually sucked her poll about four in the morning;\nand hurt her terribly in doing so. She also said that when she wanted him\nto do anything for her, she called him by the name of \"Robin,\" adding, \"O\nSatan give me my purpose!\" which he never failed to do. It was he who\nstuck the thorns into Elizabeth Hill; but then she implicated three other\nwomen, Alice Duke, Ann Bishop, and Mary Penny, saying that they too had\nstuck thorns into an enchanted picture meant for Elizabeth Hill, one\nnight when they had all met the devil on the common, he, as a man in black\nclothes with a little band, first anointing its forehead with oil, saying,\n\"I baptize thee with this oyl.\" After which they had a supper of wine,\ncakes, and roast meat, all brought by the man in black, and they ate and\ndrank and danced and were merry. This they did always, whenever they would\ndestroy any one obnoxious; and so had a merry time of it upon the whole.\nWhen they wanted to go to their meetings \"they would anoint their wrists\nand foreheads with an oyl the spirit brings them, which smells raw,\" after\nwhich they were carried off, saying: \"Thout, tout, a tout, tout,\nthroughout and about:\" on their return changing the stave to \"Rentum\nTormentum,\" which was the shibboleth to bring them back. But before they\nleft they used to make obeisance to the man in black, who usually played\nto their dancing, saying, \"A Boy! merry meet, merry part;\" on which he\nvanished, and the conclave was broken up. She then told the \"several grave\nand orthodox divines\" who assisted Robert Hunt to take her examination,\nthat Alice Duke's familiar was a cat, and Ann Bishop's a rat. Her own was\na millar; concerning which Nicholas Lambert made some strange revelations.\nHe said that as he and two others, hired to watch Elizabeth Styles in\nprison, were sitting near her as she crouched by the fire--he, Nicholas\nLambert, reading in \"The Practise of Piety\"--about three in the morning\nthey saw a \"glistering bright fly,\" about an inch in length, come from her\nhead and pitch on the chimney: then instantly vanish. In less than a\nquarter of an hour after, in came two other flies and seemed to strike at\nhis hand, but which dodged him cleverly when he struck at them with his\nbook. At this, Styles's countenance became very black and ghastly, and\nthe fire also changed its colour; so the watchers, conceiving that her\nfamiliar was about her, and seeing also her hair shake very strangely,\nwent to examine her poll, when out flew a great millar, which pitched on a\ntable board and then vanished away. Her poll was red like raw beef, but\npresently regained its natural colour. Upon which Elizabeth confessed that\nit was her familiar, and that she had felt it tickle her poll. She was\ncondemned, after having inculpated thirteen other persons, but \"prevented\nexecution by dying in gaol, a little before the expiring of the term her\nconfederate daemon had set for her enjoyment of Diabolical Pleasures.\"\n\nAlice Duke, \"another witch of Styles's Knot,\" a widow living in\nWincaunton, county of Somerset, was then apprehended and examined. She\nseems to have given no trouble, but to have come frankly to the point, and\nto have admitted whatever they liked to demand. She said that, eleven or\ntwelve years ago, Ann Bishop persuaded her to go one night to the\nchurchyard, and \"being come thither to go backward round the church, which\nthey did three times.\" In their first round they met a man in black\nclothes who accompanied them: in their second a thing like a great black\ntoad, which leaped up against Duke's apron: in the third, \"somewhat in the\nshape of a rat\" which vanished away. After which they both went home, but\nbefore they went the man in black said something softly to Ann Bishop, yet\nwhat it was Alice did not hear. Soon after this she signed herself away in\nthe same manner and for the same purposes as Elizabeth Styles had done;\nand the devil gave her sixpence as he had given Styles, and vanished away\nwith the fatal paper. She confirmed all that Styles had said concerning\nthe meetings on the common, the enchanted pictures and the greenish oil,\nthe devil, the wine, and cakes, and music; she gave information, though,\nof many more such pictures which were to doom the unfortunate likenesses\nto death; and she said farther that Ann Bishop was the devil's favourite,\nand that she sat next him, and wore \"a green Apron, a French Waistcoat,\nand a red Petticoat.\" She gave the same phrase that Elizabeth Styles had\ngiven, as the magic password which took them to and from the devil's\nmeetings; and she confessed that her familiar came to her each night,\nabout seven o'clock, \"in the shape of a little Cat of a dunnish colour,\nwhich is as smooth as a Want, and when she is suck'd she is in a kind of\nTrance.\" She had hurt several people; specially Thomas Hanway's daughter\nby giving her a pewter dish for a \"good handsel\" in the time of her lying\nin. This pewter dish was of such a malicious and venefical nature that\nwhen Thomas Hanway's daughter used it to heat some deer suet and rose\nwater for her breasts, she was put to extreme pain; which pain she had not\nwhen she heated the same deer suet and the same rose water in a common\nspoon. So, suspecting harm in the dish, she put it into the fire, \"which\nthen presently vanished, and nothing of it was afterwards to be found.\"\nAlice Duke also said that she called the devil \"Robin,\" and demanded of\nhim aid and help in her undertakings. Like Styles and many others, she\nsaid that when the devil vanished he left an ill smell behind him; which\nis explained as, \"Those ascititious Particles he held together in his\nvisible vehicle, being loosened at his vanishing, and so offending the\nNostrils by their floating and diffusing themselves in the open air.\"\n\n\nROBIN AND HIS SERVANTS[148]\n\nSomersetshire was sorely afflicted at this time. On the 2nd of March still\nin the year of grace, 1664, Christian Green, aged about thirty-three, and\nwife of Robert Green of Brewham, was taken before Robert Hunt, Esq., to be\nexamined and induced to confess. She did confess, without torture as it\nwould appear; at all events without more than the ordinary torture of\n\"pricking\" and sleeplessness always applied to witches. She said that\nabout a year and a half ago, she being in great poverty, was induced by\none Catherine Green (her husband's sister?) to give her body and soul to\nthe devil on condition that he would give her clothes, victuals, and\nmoney, as she might desire. She was to keep his secrets, and suffer him to\nsuck her once in the twenty-four hours; to which at last she consented,\nthe devil giving her fourpence-halfpenny as earnest money wherewith to buy\nbread in Brewham. Since this time he came to her ever at five o'clock in\nthe morning, much in the likeness of a hedgehog bending, and sucked her\nleft breast: a painful process, though she was generally in a kind of\ntrance at the time. Christian Green gave no new particulars relative to\nthe devil and his works. He was always as a man in black clothes; and he\ncharmed pictures to the undoing of those for whom they were designed; and\nwhen he vanished he left an ill smell behind him; and he spake them very\nlow when they arrived; and they did three horses to death by saying\nsimply, \"A Murrain on them Horses to death;\" and they bewitched unlikely\nsinners by mere word or look: all of which processes we have read of\ntwenty times before. Nor was there much more to be got out of \"the\nvillainous Feats of that rampant hag Margaret Agar,\" of Brewham, tried\nalso in 1664, whom poor hysterical Christian Green had delated, for she\ndid nothing beyond curse her enemies and those who offended her, whereupon\nthey died \"as if stabbed with daggers,\" or were \"consumed and pined away;\"\nsome with one disease, some with another; but all dying without reprieve\nbecause of her curse. She also, in company with many others, was proved to\nhave met \"a little man in black clothes,\" whom they called \"Robin,\" and to\nwhom they all made obeisance, the little man putting his hand to his head,\nsaying, \"How do ye?\" speaking low, but big. And they made \"pictures\" of\nwax into which the little black man stuck thorns, one in the crown,\nanother in the breast, and a third in the side, which then Margaret would\nfling down saying, \"This is Cornish's figure with a murrain to it,\" and\nElizabeth Cornish would languish and die; or \"This is Bess Hill's;\" or any\nother person's whom it was desired to \"forespeak\" and destroy; who of\ncourse were forespoken and destroyed from that hour. Margaret Agar was a\n\"rampant hag\" indeed in one sense, being evidently an ill-conditioned old\nwoman, quick at a curse, and passionately eager to avenge herself, but her\nmagical arts appear to have been of the lowest possible order, and pale\nand lifeless compared with the more highly-coloured doings of others.\nAnything, however, was sufficient for the worshipful Master Robert Hunt\nand his fellow justices, and curses did as well as the rest; so poor old\nMargaret Agar was taken to the tree whereon grew the fatal fruit of death,\nto meditate there on Christian charity and the wise compassionateness of\nmen, before learning by what steps the weary soul passes from earth to\nimmortality. She was probably no great loss to the community, but her\ndeath placed her among the martyrs to superstition, and left her for ever\nas an object of historic pity.\n\n\nSIR MATTHEW HALE'S JUDGMENT.[149]\n\nAt Bury St. Edmonds, in the county of Suffolk, a remarkable \"Tryal of\nwitches\" was held on the tenth day of March, 1664, before Sir Matthew\nHale, Lord Chief Baron of the Court of Exchequer. Rose Cullender and Amy\nDuny, both widows and both of Leystoff, were indicted for bewitching\nElizabeth and Ann Durent, Jane Bocking, Susan Chandler, William Durent,\nand Elizabeth and Deborah Pacy. William Durent, being an infant, was sworn\nby grace of his mother Dorothy, and she deposed that some little time ago,\nhaving occasion to go from home, she desired Amy, who was her neighbour,\nto look after her child, but expressly forbade her to suckle it in her\nabsence. When asked by the court why she gave this caution to an old woman\nfar past the age of performing such an office, Dorothy answered that Amy\nhad long had the character of a witch who might suckle the devil himself\nor any of his imps; and that moreover old women were apt to give the\nbreast to a crying child, to please it during its mother's absence; a\nhabit that made the children ill. But it seems that Amy disobeyed her, for\nwhen she came home the old woman told her that she had given the breast to\nher infant, which made Dorothy very cross, and a high quarrel ensued. And\nthat very night her child was taken with \"strange fits of swounding,\" and\nwas held in such a terrible manner that she expected to lose it every\nmoment. Not knowing what to do or where to get it relief, she went to a\ncertain Doctor Jacob, well known through the country for skill in helping\nchildren that were bewitched, and this Dr. Jacob advised her to hang up\nthe child's blanket in the chimney corner all the day, and to put the\nchild into it at night, and not be afraid at anything she might see, but\nto throw it at once into the fire. Dorothy did as she was bid, and when\nshe took the blanket from the chimney-corner, down fell a great toad,\n\"which ran up and down the hearth, and she having a young youth only with\nher in the House, desired him to catch the Toad and throw it into the\nFire; which the youth did accordingly, and held it there with the Tongs;\nand as soon as it was in the Fire it made a great and horrible noise, and\nafter a space there was a flashing in the Fire like Gunpowder, making a\nnoise like the discharge of a Pistol, and thereupon the Toad was no more\nseen nor heard.\" But Amy Duny sat by her fireside all smirched and\nscorched, and in revenge bewitched the little daughter Elizabeth to death,\nand further afflicted Dorothy herself with a lameness in both her legs, so\nthat she was forced to go upon crutches. About which the strangest thing\nwas, that though she had gone on them for three years now, no sooner was\nAmy Duny condemned than she cast them away and went home without them, \"to\nthe great admiration of all persons.\" This was the first count completed.\n\nThe second was made by Samuel Pacy, \"a Merchant of Leystoff aforesaid (a\nMan who carried himself with so much soberness during the Tryal, from whom\nproceeded no words either of Passion or Malice, though his Children were\nso greatly Afflicted),\" on behalf of his daughters, Elizabeth and\nDeborah; the one aged about eleven, the other nine. Elizabeth had fits.\nShe remained as one wholly senseless or in a deep sleep, the only sign of\nlife being that, as she lay on cushions in the court, her stomach was\nraised to a great height on the drawing of her breath. After she had\nremained there for some time she came somewhat to herself, and then \"laid\nher Head on the Bar of the Court with a Cushion under it, and her hand and\nher Apron upon that;\" when Amy Duny was brought privately to touch her.\nShe had no sooner done so than the child, although not seeing her,\nsuddenly leaped up and caught her by the hand and face, and scratched her\ntill the blood came: after which she was easier. Samuel deposed that his\nyounger daughter, Deborah, was suddenly taken with a lameness in her legs,\nwhich continued from the 10th to the 17th of October; when the day, being\nfair and sunshiny, she desired to be carried to the east part of the\nhouse, and then set upon a bank which looks towards the sea. While sitting\nthere, came Amy Duny to buy some herrings; but being denied she went away\ngrumbling, and on the instant \"the Child was taken with the most violent\nFits, feeling most extream Pain in her Stomach, like the pricking of Pins,\nand shreeking out in a most dreadful manner, like unto a Whelp, and not\nlike unto a sensible Creature.\" The doctor, not understanding this\ndisorder, and Amy Duny being under ill fame for a witch, Samuel Pacy\ncaused her to be set in the stocks, as the most powerful remedy he knew of\nfor his child's disorder. Being in the stocks, a neighbour told her that\nshe was suspected of being the cause of Mr. Pacy's trouble: whereupon Amy\nanswered, \"Mr. Pacy keeps a great stir about his Child; let him stay until\nhe has done as much by his Children as I have by mine.\" And being further\nexamined what she had done to her children, she answered, \"That she had\nbeen fain to open her Child's Mouth with a Tap to give it victuals.\" When,\ntherefore, Elizabeth, the elder girl, fell ill within two days after this,\nand could by no means be made to open her mouth without a good-sized tap\nbeing put into it, the thing was certain, and might no longer be\ngainsayed. And when they both vomited crooked pins, and as many as forty\nbroad-headed nails, and were deprived of sight and hearing, and cried out\nperpetually against Amy Duny and Rose Cullender, and could not be got to\nsay the names \"Jesus,\" \"Lord,\" or \"Christ,\" but when they came to \"Satan\"\nor \"Devil,\" would clap their fingers on the book (the New Testament),\ncrying out, \"This bites, but makes me speak right well,\" what sane person\ncould doubt the truth? Other strange things beside happened to them. They\nused to see creatures of the appearance of mice run up and down the house,\nand one of them \"suddainly snapt one with the Tongs, and threw it into the\nFire, and it screeched out like a Rat.\" At another time a thing like a bee\nflew into Deborah's face, and would have got into her mouth, had she not\ngone shrieking into the house; when, with much apparent pain and effort,\nshe brought up a twopenny nail with a broad head, which she said the bee\nhad forced into her mouth. Again, another time, Elizabeth cried out that\nshe saw a mouse under the table, which she caught up in her apron and\nflung into the fire. Deponent, her aunt, confessed that she saw nothing in\nthe child's hand, nevertheless the fire flashed as if gunpowder had been\nflung in; also \"at another time, the said Child being speechless, but\notherwise of perfect understanding, ran round about the House, holding\nher Apron, crying 'Hush, hush,' as if there had been Poultry in the House;\nbut this Deponent could perceive nothing; but at last she saw the Child\nstoop as if she had catch't at something, and put it into her Apron, and\nafterwards made as if she had thrown it into the Fire; but this Deponent\ncould not discover any thing; but the Child afterwards being restored to\nher speech, she, this Deponent, demanded of her what she saw at the time\nshe used such a posture? who answered, That she saw a Duck.\"\n\nOthers deposed to the same kind of things: as Edmund Durent, father to the\ngirl Ann, whom Rose Cullender had bewitched--also because denied the right\nof buying herrings; and Diana Bocking, mother to Jane likewise afflicted\nwith crooked pins and tenpenny nails; and Mary Chandler, mother of Susan,\nwho was stricken blind and dumb, and had the plague of pins upon her too,\nand who cried out \"in a miserable manner, 'Burn her, burn her,'\" which\nwere all the words she could speak, and which meant that poor old Rose was\nto be burnt that Susan Chandler might be dispossessed. And there was Dr.\nBrown, of Norwich, a person of great knowledge, who gave it as his\ndeliberate opinion that the girls were bewitched, every one of them, and\nthat \"the Devil in such cases did work upon the Bodies of Men and Women\nupon a Natural Foundation, (that is) to stir up and excite such Humours\nsuperabounding in their Bodies to a great Excess, whereby he did in an\nExtraordinary Manner Afflict them with such Distempers as their Bodies\nwere most subject to, as particularly appeared in these Children; for he\nconsidered that these swooning Fits were Natural, and nothing else but\nthat they call the Mother, but only heightened to a great excess by the\nsubtilty of the Devil co-operating with the Malice of these which we term\nWitches, at whose instance he doth these Villanies.\" Such an argument as\nthis was then held quite as pertinent and irresistible as would now be the\nevidence of the microscope and the test of chemical experiment. It is\nrefreshing, in the midst of all this wild nonsense, to find that some\ngentlemen--Lord Cornwallis, Sir Edmund Bacon, and Mr. Serjeant Keeling,\nwho had been directed by the Lord Chief Justice to make an experiment with\nthese girls--openly protested against the whole thing, affirming it to be\nan imposture from first to last; and that when the children covered up\ntheir heads in their aprons, and shrieked and writhed when Rose Cullender\nor Amy Duny touched them, they did it in full possession of their senses,\nand perfectly understanding what they were about. For when they tried them\nwith other women whom they made believe were the two, cried out on, and\ntook care that their eyes were held, so that they should not see, the\nchildren shrieked and howled, and went off into their fits all the same;\nwhich double experiment satisfied the gentlemen of the fraudulent\ncharacter of it all. But this little nucleus of rationality was not strong\nenough to disperse the thick darkness gathered round the minds of all\npresent--gathered round the mind of even Sir Thomas Brown and the \"good\"\nSir Matthew Hale; and when one witness had deposed that his cart had stuck\nfast between some posts, and that the haymakers could not unload the hay\nuntil the next morning, because Rose Cullender had threatened him; and\nanother that his pigs and cattle died in a most extraordinary manner, and\nhe himself swarmed with vermin which he could not get rid of, because he\nalso had been threatened by her; and a third that she had lost her geese\nbecause Amy Duny had said she should; and that a chimney had fallen down\nbecause Amy Duny had said it would--when all these things had been sworn\nto and proved, then the minds of the judge and jury admitted of no further\ndoubt. Amy Duny and Rose Cullender were brought in guilty, and hanged at\nCambridge on Monday, March 17, confessing nothing.\n\n\"The next morning the children came with their Parents to the Lodgings of\nthe Lord Chief Justice, and were in as good Health as ever they were in\ntheir lives, being restored within half an hour after the witches were\nconvicted.\" A fact then sufficiently conclusive, but which now is the\nstrongest proof that could be offered of the wicked deception of the whole\nmatter.\n\n\nTHE WAITING-MAID AND THE PIN.[150]\n\nIn 1665 Elizabeth Brooker, servant to Mrs. Hieron, of Honiton, in\nDevonshire, waiting at table one Lord's day, suddenly felt a pricking as\nof a pin in her thigh, and, on looking, found indeed a pin there, but\ninside her skin, drawing no blood nor breaking the skin, and thrust in so\nfar that she could scarce feel the head of it with her finger. By Tuesday\nit had worked so far inwards that she could no longer feel it at all; and\nthe day after she went to Mr. Anthony Smith, a surgeon of great repute,\nwho was obliged to have recourse to incisions and cataplasms, and all the\nappliances of the surgery, in order to extract this obstinate and\nmalevolent pin. For it was a bewitched pin; and either Agnes Richardson,\nwho had been angry with Elizabeth \"about miscarriage in an errand that she\nsent her on,\" or an unknown woman who had lately been near her, was\nsuspected of the crime of sticking it into her. Mrs. Hieron was a widow,\nand kept a draper's shop in Honiton, and Elizabeth Brooker, her servant,\nsold small wares in a stall before her mistress's door. On market day,\nwhich was Saturday, came a certain woman and asked Elizabeth for a pin.\nShe took one from her sleeve readily enough; but the woman was\ndissatisfied, and demanded one of a bigger sort hung up in a paper to\nsell. The maid said they were not hers to give; they were her mistress's:\nif she would ask her mistress for one, and get her leave to have it, she,\nElizabeth, would then give her one willingly. This woman went away in a\ngreat fume, saying \"she should hear farther from her, and that she would\nwish e'er long she had given the pin as desired.\" The next day a pin was\nthrust into her thigh as she was waiting at table, and no Christian person\ncould doubt whence it came or why it was sent. Mr. Anthony Smith, the\n\"Chirurgeon of great Reputation,\" who could not extract a pin without a\nfortnight's illness supervening, wrote a detailed account of the whole\nmatter; but whether the unknown woman was traced and found, or whether\nAgnes Richardson got any mishandling for the suspicion cast on her, or\nwhether, again, the trick passed off without result, and no one was the\nworse because a maid-servant chose to run a pin into her thigh, I can find\nno record to inform me. As not much harm was done, perhaps the devil was\nlet off easy this time, and the hags, his mistresses, suffered to extend\ntheir trade a little longer.\n\n\nJANE STRETTON AND THE CUNNING WOMAN.[151]\n\nJane Stretton and her parents lived at Ware in the year 1669, Jane being\nthen a young maid of about twenty, generally out at service. It chanced\nthat Thomas, her father, lost a Bible, and must needs go to a cunning man\nto ask where it was, and who had it--a thing which, as a good Christian,\nhe should have been ashamed of: to which the cunning man replied darkly,\n\"he could tell him if he would.\" Whereupon Stretton, not in the least\ngrateful for such a doubtful reply, broke out with, \"Then thou must be\neither a witch or a devil, seeing thou canst neither read nor write.\" This\nwas all that passed, and it seems but scant substance for a deadly\nquarrel; but a few days afterwards this cunning man's wife went slily to\nStretton's, and asked daughter Jane for a pot of drink. This was to\nestablish direct communication. \"Innocency dreads no danger: the child\nwill play with the Bee for his gaudy Coat, and mistrusts not his sting,\"\nsays this flowery tract; but soon after Jane had thus committed herself to\ntransfers and communication with the witch, the \"devil, who is a sly\nthief, and though he keeps his servants poor, yet indues them, with a\nplentifull stock of malice, revenge, and dissimulation,\" suffered this bad\nwoman, or this cunning man, to afflict Jane, but not so grievously as they\nwere suffered to do hereafter. In about a week's time the cunning man's\nwife went and desired a pin of her, which Jane, granting, became suddenly\nbeset with fits, most terrible to behold. \"But her misery ends not here:\nthe squib is not run out to the end of the rope. When the Devil has an\ninch given to him he will take an ell;\" so poor Jane was not only troubled\nwith fits, but must needs have her mouth stopped so that she ate nothing\nfor weeks and months, and was forced to live like a chameleon, on air.\nBesides this, she was made to perpetually vomit flax and hair and\nthread-ends and crooked pins; while blue, white, and red flames came in\nthe intervals out of her mouth, and her body was continually slashed and\ncut with a knife, and imps in the shape of frogs, and toads, and mice, and\nthe like, for ever haunted her; and the wise man's wife was the cause of\nall. Then the neighbours took some of the foam which Jane had always\nhanging round her mouth, and burnt it for a counter charm, and to hurt the\nbesetting witch; and chancing to light on the woman, they told her they\nwould take her to the maid to be scratched. To which she made answer,\n\"That if they had not come she could not have stayed any longer from her:\"\nso great was the potency of the burnt foam. For nine months did this girl\nbefool her world, and then--the cunning man and his wife being probably\nput to death--she managed to get well of all her ailments, and to find\nmeat and milk more sustaining diet than crooked pins, hair, or wool;\nthough, indeed, the meat and milk had never been wanting in the dark hours\nundiscovered, for Jane had taken care to live as usual when the night had\nblinded prying eyes, and there was no one to count off the tale of slices\ncut and devoured.\n\nFortunately for the sanity of society, every one did not believe these\nmonstrous stories. Webster's book, published about this time, was one of\nthose brave few which openly discredited the truth of the witch stories\nafloat in the world, and made as great a sensation, or even greater, than\nthe grand old work of Reginald Scot. Like him, Webster doubted the truth\nof the witch of Endor's enchantments, which the upholders of the faith\nrested on as the very keystone of their position. The witch herself he\ncalls \"a cozening quean,\" \"a crafty subtile quean,\" \"an idolatrous,\nwicked, and couzening witch:\" for they understood the value of forcible\nlanguage in those days: Saul is \"a drowned puppet\"--to Glanvil's intense\nwrath at this rude mishandling of a \"noble prince;\" Samuel but \"a\nconfederate knave,\" or \"but a lying phantasie;\" in the conjurations the\nwitch, \"casting herself into a feigned Trance, lay grovelling upon the\nEarth with her face downwards, and so changing her voice did mutter, and\nmurmur, and peep, and chirp, like a bird coming forth of the shell;\" with\nother knockdown assertions of common sense not afraid, by which the curate\nof Kildwick demolished the whole argument of supernaturalism, and left the\npoor witch of Endor and Saul himself not an inch of ground to stand on. So\nwith all the other stories that came into his hands; so with the special\npoints of faith, peculiar to the creed of witchcraft, such as communion\nand covenant with the devil, transportation through the air on sticks,\nstraws, or bedstaves; transformation into the shapes of cat, dog, wolf,\nraven, &c.; intercourse with imps and familiars; witches' sabbaths;\ncharms; conjurations; weeping the prescribed three tears with the left eye\nonly, or not weeping at all; swimming on the surface of the water, because\nof the Christian character of that element, which refused to admit a\ndevil-devoted soul within its bosom; apparitions, or spectres of witches\ntroubling the afflicted--souls quitting their bodies, but taking with them\nthe spiritual substance even of woven garments; with the whole course of\nlies and delusions belonging to the subject, from the devil's baptism to\nthe imps' bigges. All this seemed but so much delusion to plain John\nWebster, with his unidealising common sense and kindly heart; yet a\ndelusion so fraught with sin and danger as to make it a Christian man's\nfirst duty to combat and destroy it. Wherefore was he most barbarously and\nevilly entreated by Glanvil in his \"Saducismus Triumphatus\"--the answer to\nthe \"Displaying of Supposed Witchcraft\"--and a mighty pretty quarrel, full\nof the choicest amenities, was the result. But as Glanvil had error and\ncredulity, and Webster reason and right judgment on his side, it mattered\nlittle who was assumed to have the best of it for the moment. Time and\neducation gradually settled the question, and buried it for a time out of\nsight; yet it has sprung up anew of late, and now needs settling again.\n\n\nTHE BIDEFORD TROUBLES.[152]\n\nIn the July of 1682, Temperance Lloyd, of Bideford, or \"Bytheford,\" was\naccused of bewitching Mrs. Grace Thomas. Temperance, being a little crazy,\nhad cried one day on meeting Mrs. Grace, who had been for long months but\na poor, \"dunt,\" feckless body; and when asked why she wept had made\nanswer, \"For joy to see her who had been so ill, walk abroad again without\ndisaster.\" But that very same night Mrs. Grace was taken with fresh pains,\n\"sticking and pricking Pains, as if Pins and Awls had been thrust into her\nBody, from the Crown of her Head to the Soles of her Feet, and she lay as\nif she had been upon a rack;\" and none but Temperance Lloyd the cause\nthereof, despite all her hypocritical tears. And did not Elizabeth\nEastcheap see her knee, which looked as if it had been pricked in nine\nplaces with a thorn? And when Temperance was asked if she had any clay or\nwax wherewith to torment Mrs. Grace, did she not confess to a bit of\nleather which she had pricked nine times, and which was as full of venom\nand sorcery as any wax or clay in the world? Besides, it came out\nafterwards, that she had gone to Thomas Eastcheap's shop in the form of a\ngray or \"braget cat,\" and thence taken out a \"puppit or picture, commonly\ncalled a child's baby,\" which she stuck full of pins, whereby to prick\nGrace to death. When asked in what part of the house the said puppet or\npicture was hidden, she refused to tell, saying the devil would tear her\nin pieces if she confessed. Anne Wakely, too, the neighbour who went to\nnurse poor Grace, had her word to say; for one morning--it was on a bonny\nday in June--she saw \"something in the shape of a magpye come at the\nchamber window;\" and when Temperance was questioned as to what she knew of\nthis fluttering thing, she made answer that it was the Black Man in the\nshape of a bird which she had sent to trouble poor rheumatic pain-racked\nGrace. For Temperance was not stiff. She was easily brought to confess how\nshe had given herself over to the service of a black man, who made her do\nall manner of hurt to her neighbours--made her pinch Grace Thomas, and\nbewitch William Herbert to his death twelve years ago, and destroy Anne\nFellows three years since--for both of which crimes she had been arraigned\nand questioned at the time, but had managed to get clear. Now, however,\nshe confessed that she had been guilty of them. The dread and evil fame\nand poverty under which she had lived so long had done their appointed\nwork on her poor old brain; and she was ready to confess to anything\nwhich it was desired she should allow. Yes, she had bewitched the eyes of\nJane Dalbin, but so secretly that no one had suspected her: and she had\ndestroyed one woman by kissing her, holding her so tight that she squeezed\nher to death--the blood gushing out of her mouth and nose: and she hunted\nwith the devil, he going before her in the shape of a hound; \"doubtless he\nhunted for souls,\" says a very odd tract which gives this additional trait\nof diabolical management and the economy of time. Being asked of what\nstature was her black man, she said \"he was above the Length of her Arm;\nand that his Eyes were very big; and that he hopped, or leaped in the way\nbefore her;\" but when asked if she had made any contract with him she said\n\"No; neither had she gone through the keyhole when she went to harm Grace\nThomas, but through the door, the devil leading her, and both invisible;\nand that she had been made to pinch and torment Grace; and that the devil\nbeat her about the head grievously because she would not kill her.\" She\nhad never bewitched any ships or boats, nor done a child to death; for the\nchild who stole her apple died of the small-pox, and she was guiltless of\nits decease; nor had she ever ridden over an arm of the sea on a cow--\"No,\nmaster, never; it was she,\" meaning another delated witch, Susanna\nEdwards, who did this. The worst thing she had ever done was to Grace\nThomas, and then the devil made her do it, beating her about the head and\nback in shape and form, \"black like a bullock.\" Temperance Lloyd was\nexecuted; and died penitent and crazy.\n\nMary Trembles was another delated witch. She bewitched Agnes Whitefield\nwith all manner of pains; and Grace Barnes deposed to pricks and pains\nlike awls and pins thrust into her, which evil Mary Trembles and Susanna\nEdwards had done together; for they were comrades and cronies, and would\ngo hand-in-hand about the world, invisible to all save themselves and\ntheir master the devil. It was Susanna Edwards who had seduced Mary and\ngot her to accept the service of the devil, who came to her as a lion; at\nwhich she was much frightened, though not hurt; and made her bewitch Grace\nBarnes, because said Grace would give her no meat. She was also executed,\nvery penitent and quite resigned.\n\nSusanna Edwards was active and powerful in forespeaking. She sent pains to\nDorcas Coleman--tormenting pains, and very grievous--so that Dr. George\nBear could do her no good, but openly proclaimed her beyond his power for\nthat she was bewitched; and she held Anthony Jones pretty hardly, as Joane\nhis wife deposed. For when Susan was apprehended, Anthony \"observing her\nto gripe and twinkle her Hands upon her own Body, said to her, 'Thou\nDevil, thou art now tormenting some Person or other.'\" Upon which the said\nSusanna was displeased with him, and said, \"Well enough I will fit thee.\"\nAnd fit him she did, for on his making one of the rabble that dragged her\nbefore the magistrates, Susanna turned round and looked at him, \"so that\nhe cried out, 'I am now bewitched with this Devil, wife,' meaning Susanna\nEdwards, and presently leaped and capered like a madman, and fell\na-shaking, quivering, and foaming, and for the space of half an Hour like\na dying or dead Man.\" Susan knew the devil as a gentleman dressed in black\nclothes, and also as a little boy; but could not be induced to confess to\nany of the more striking monstrosities beyond what might have well\nbelonged to an ordinary case of hallucination. She was executed as the\nother two; but we are not told if Grace Thomas, or Dorcas Coleman, or\nGrace Barnes, or Anthony Jones recovered their health now that the witches\nwere dead, or if hysteria and rheumatism and neuralgia and scrofula were\nfound more troublesome enemies to conquer than three crazy old women. It\nwould be curious as well as interesting to know the condition of the\nhonestly deceived and actually diseased after the death of the possessing\nwitch. In those instances where crutches were thrown away, and fits\nsuddenly brought to a close, the instant the law had laid its gripe on the\nneck of the unfortunate accused, we have no choice but to refer the whole\nproceedings to imposture quickened by enmity or the desire of notoriety;\nbut there were cases where a strange and sudden disease did really appear\nas bewitchment to the afflicted, and of these one would be glad to know\nthe after mental condition when the obsessing witch was killed, yet the\nobsessing sickness unconquered. Did experience ever open their eyes or\nshake their faith? or did they die in their belief that the stake and the\ngallows were the finest remedies known for disordered functions or organic\nmischief? No one of the time was sufficiently accurate, or sufficiently\nunprejudiced, to be able to give us reliable information, and thus we have\nlost a most valuable indication of the absolute power exercised by the\nmind over the body.\n\n\nSIR JOHN HOLT'S JUDGMENTS.[153]\n\nMr. May Hill, minister of Beckington, in Somersetshire (near Frome), had a\nservant, one Mary Hill, whom Satan and the malice of his servants had\ngrievously bewitched. Mr. Baxter had brought to him a bag of iron, nails,\nand brass which the girl had vomited, and he kept some of them to show his\nfriends. \"Nails about three or four inches long, doubled, crooked at the\nend, and pieces of old Brass doubled, about an Inch broad and two Inches\nlong, with crooked edges,\" all of which Mary had brought up, together with\nabout two hundred crooked pins. Elizabeth Carrier was first committed on\nthe charge of having bewitched her; but a fortnight after, Mary, whom this\nsacrifice had temporarily appeased, went back to her old ways, and began\nto vomit nails and pieces of nails, brass, and handles of spoons, and so\ncontinued to do for six months and more; all the while crying out against\nMargery Coombes and Ann More, who, she said, appeared to her and tormented\nher. These two poor creatures were immediately apprehended and committed\nto the county gaol; but Margery died as soon as she was imprisoned: and\nwhen my Lord Chief Justice Holt came to try old Ann, he said there was not\nsufficient evidence against her, so directed the jury to acquit her. But\nthe maid was worse than ever after this acquittal, and took to vomiting\npieces of glass, and several pieces of bread and butter besmeared with a\npoisonous matter, adjudged to be white mercury, and a great board nail,\nand, in short, Mr. May Hill and the neighbours did not know what she might\nnot throw up at last, her mouth was so capacious, and the space against\nher gums so flexible. But as it was observed that she never vomited these\nthings save in the morning, and that in the afternoon she was quiet; and\nwhen, upon inquiry, it was found that she always slept with her mouth wide\nopen, and slept so soundly, that she could not be awakened by pulling, or\njogging, or calling; then Mr. Hill commanded that some one should sit up\nwith her, and keep her mouth rigidly and pertinaciously shut. And when\nthey did this she vomited nothing, for the witches had not been able to\nconvey their trash into her mouth. This experiment was satisfactorily\ntried for thirteen nights; but as soon as she was left to sleep by\nherself, and with her mouth open, the wicked witches were sure to come to\nher and force all kinds of trash into it. But at last she wearied of her\nwork; and, Sir John Holt not holding out much inducement to ill-tempered\nyoung women to declare themselves possessed because they had a\ndisagreeable neighbour or two, she owned herself quite cured, and no more\nwas heard of her fits or her nails.\n\nPoor old Widow Chambers,[154] of Upaston, in Suffolk, \"a diligent,\nindustrious, poor woman,\" was accused of witchcraft, upon what grounds\ndoes not appear. \"After she had been walk'd betwixt two,\" and, we may\nnaturally suppose, pressed and plied with questions, she became confused\nand overwrought, and began to confess a great many things of herself. She\nsaid that she had killed both her husband and Lady Blois, though the last\nhad died a fair and evident death, \"without any Hurt from that poor\nWoman:\" and then some, to make trial of her wits, asked her if she had not\nkilled such and such persons then living? to which old Widow Chambers\nmaundered out yes, she had killed them sure enough. She was committed to\nBeccles Gaol, even after this; but died before her trial, happily for her.\n\nThis was in 1693. The following year was a busy one for the witch-finders,\nbut fortunate for such of the witches as came before Lord Chief Justice\nHolt, a man of clear, well-balanced mind, evidently not given to\nsuperstitious beliefs, or to much veneration for the Black Art. Mother\nMunnings, of Hartis, in Suffolk, was one of those brought before him at\nBury St. Edmunds. She came with a bad character enough, accused of\nbewitching men to their death, spoiling brewings and churnings, and\nhurting cattle and corn--of being, in fact, a terrible pest to the whole\nneighbourhood. She killed Thomas Pannel her landlord, who had offended her\nby a rather summary method of ejectment, namely, taking her door off the\nhinges, since he could not get her out of his house any other way. Mother\nMunnings was angry: who would not have been? \"Go thy way,\" she cried to\nhim passionately; \"thy Nose shall lie upward in the Churchyard before\nSaturday next.\" This was enough. Thomas Pannel sickened on Monday and died\non Tuesday, and was buried within the week according to her word. That\nthis was true was attested by a certain witness, a doctor, who said also\nthat Mother Munnings \"was a dangerous woman: she could touch the Line of\nLife.\" Mother Munnings had an imp, a thing like a polecat; and a man swore\nthat one night, coming from the alehouse--a rather important\ncircumstance--he saw her lift out of her basket two imps, a black one and\na white; and it was well known that Sarah Wager was taken both dumb and\nlame after a quarrel with her, and was in that condition even at the time\nof trial. But in the face of all these tremendous accusations the Lord\nChief Justice Holt directed the jury to bring her in Not Guilty, and poor\nold Mother Munnings lived in peace and quietness for about two years\nlonger, doing no harm to anybody, and when dying declaring her innocence.\nDr. Hutchinson gives a very rational, but somewhat quaint, explanation of\ntwo of the charges against her. On the death of her landlord, he says,\nthat he, Thomas Pannel, \"was a consumptive spent Man, and the Words not\nexactly as they swore them, and the whole Thing 17 years before;\" and as\nto the imps--\"the White Imp is believed to have been a Lock of Wool taken\nout of her Basket to spin; and its Shadow, it is supposed, was the Black\none.\" Not an impossibility with an ignorant country clown, reeling home\nhalf drunk from the alehouse, and disposed to make a miracle out of the\nplainest matter before him seen through a witch's window.\n\nAt the Ipswich assizes of that same year the Lord Chief Justice had to\nhold the sword of judgment unsheathed between Margaret Elnore and her\naccusers. Margaret belonged to a family of witches, her grandmother and\nher aunt having been both hanged for that rational offence; and now, when\nMrs. Rudge had been for three years in a languishing condition--ever since\nher husband had refused to take Elnore for his tenant--what so likely as\nthat she was bewitched, and that the enraged witch and relative of witches\nhad done it? Besides, women who had quarrelled with Margaret had found\nthemselves suddenly covered with vermin, not at all due to their own\nuncleanly habits, but to the diabolical power of old Elnore, who would\nsend lice or locusts, disease or death, just as it suited her. For she had\neight or nine imps, and she was plainly branded with the witch marks. Lord\nChief Justice Holt pooh-poohed the imps and the vermin, and directed again\na verdict of Not Guilty. So Margaret Elnore was suffered to live out the\nnatural term of her life, and Mrs. Rudge recovered her health for a\ncertain time; but--some years after Margaret was peaceably laid in her\ngrave--\"fell again into the same Kind of Pains (supposed from the Salt\nHumour), and died of the same Distemper.\"\n\nThe next year Mary Guy was tried at Launceston for bewitching Philadelphia\nRow, who swore to her apparition perpetually troubling her, and who had\nthe uncomfortable habit of vomiting pins, straws, and feathers. But the\nLord Chief Justice turned a deaf ear to Philadelphia Row also, and Mary\nGuy was acquitted. So was Elizabeth Horner, who, in 1696, was brought\nbefore him at Exeter, charged with having bewitched three children\nbelonging to William Bovet, whereof one was dead: \"another had her Legs\ntwisted, and yet from her Hands and Knees she would spring Five Foot\nhigh.\" The children brought up crooked pins, and were grievously bitten,\nand pinched, and pricked, and bruised--the marks of all this ill usage\nappearing plainly on the flesh; and they swore that Bess Horner's head\nwould go off her shoulders and walk quietly into their stomachs: and the\nmother deposed \"that one of them walked up a smooth plastered Wall, till\nher Feet were nine Foot high, her Head standing off from it.\" This she did\nfive or six times, laughing and saying that Bess Horner held her up. Old\nBess had a kind of wart or excrescence on her shoulder, which William\nBovet's children said was her witch-mark, and where her imp--a\ntoad--sucked; but the Lord Chief Justice shook his head, and Bess Horner\nwas let to live on in her own way, taking off her head at will, and\nsending it into children's bodies, and nourishing a devil in shape of a\ntoad on her shoulder--the law and judgment not interposing. The Lord Chief\nJustice had very many cases of witchcraft brought before him--about eleven\nplaces in all being supposed to be so infected--but he brought in every\none \"not guilty.\"\n\nOne of the most celebrated cases tried by him was that of Richard\nHathaway, who came before him at the Guildford Assize of 1701 with a\npitiful tale of possession and bewitchment, all owing to Sarah Morduck, of\nSouthwark, in which parish he too was living as apprentice to Thomas\nWellyn, blacksmith. Richard had fits and convulsions, in all probability\nreal enough, for he was sent to the hospital, where he lay for seven weeks\nin a pitiable condition, sometimes bent double, and at all times strangely\nand fearfully contorted. This began in September, 1690,[155] he said, when\nthe first appearances of being bewitched manifested themselves. For then\nhe vomited crooked pins in great numbers, and lumps of tin, and loose\nnails, and nut-shells, and stones; and he foamed at the mouth; and bowed\nhimself into an arch; and lay as if dead; and barked like a dog; and burnt\nas if with fire; and in the midst of all signed that Sarah Morduck had\nbewitched him, and that he should never be well till he had \"scratched\"\nher. So she was brought to him to be scratched; after which he ate and\ndrank and had his sight and was perfectly well for six weeks together.\nThen he fell ill again, and must needs scratch her for this attack; and\nthis time with more unction, for Sarah \"was assaulted in her own House,\nand grievously abused; her Hair and Face torn; she was kicked, thrown to\nthe Ground, stamped on, and threatened to be put into a Horse Pond, to be\ntried by Swimming, and very hardly escaped with her Life.\" To avoid being\nabsolutely murdered, she left Southwark and went into London; but still\nwas not safe, for she was constantly being followed in the streets, and\nwas often in danger of being pulled to pieces by a mob which credited all\nthat Richard Hathaway said and did. In 1701 she was taken before one Sir\nThomas Lane, who ordered her to be stript and searched, and let Hathaway\nloose again on her to scratch her. After which he was well as before; and\nthen Sarah Morduck was committed, and prayers were offered up in the\nchurches for Hathaway, and collections made for him in the congregations,\nand six or seven pounds at a time got for him, besides various other sums,\nto bear his charges at the Assizes, and indemnify him for the evil the\nwitch had inflicted. At the Assizes (Guildford, July, 1701) Sarah Morduck\nwas brought out of prison to be tried for her life by the Lord Chief\nJustice: with the usual result in his trials of witches: she was released,\nbut Hathaway took her place, and was committed to the Marshalsea as a\ncheat and impostor, lying, for the first part of the time, well and\nhearty, but afterwards falling into his fits again as if bewitched. He was\nthen experimented with; given another woman to scratch, under the idea\nthat it was Sarah; whom he scratched quite contentedly, and as well after\nhe had done so. When he found out his mistake he was blind and dumb again.\nBut now, it being specially desired to know the truth, when he brought up\nhis crooked pins, his hands were kept carefully out of his pockets, which\nthen were searched, and found plentifully supplied; and all the strange\nnoises which had been heard to issue out of his bed were discovered to\nhave been made by his own feet scratching the bedposts; and his miraculous\nfasting was proved a cheat, for Mrs. Kensy's maid, who had got into his\nconfidence by a stratagem, brought him meat and drink privately, and Mr.\nKensy and his friends peeping through a private hole saw him eat it quite\ncomposedly. So one by one his pretences were destroyed, and he was openly\nconvicted of cozening and imposture. The Lord Chief Justice thought this a\nmore cognizable crime than witchcraft, and condemned Richard Hathaway to\nbe imprisoned for a year, and to stand in the pillory thrice during the\nperiod. Thus he was made a warning to all hysterical youths and maidens\nwho took to possession as a good trade, and who liked the prayers of the\nfaithful, and the money of the credulous, and the luxury of ill-treating\nany one specially spited, and the attentions of the gentry, and the pity\nof the commonalty, and all manner of petting and cossiting better than\ncoarse hard fare and the scanty pleasures wrung from horny-handed labour.\nThis Lord Chief Justice, Sir John Holt, may be taken as one of the\ngreatest, if of the less noisy and notorious, benefactors of England\nknown; setting himself so firmly as he did against this cruel and debasing\nsuperstition, and so manfully upholding the claims of humanity and common\nsense against all the \"possibilities\" of idealism, and the wild errings of\ncredulity. From his time the witch madness sensibly declined, and folks\nwoke gradually to the possession of their ordinary faculties.\n\n\nTHE SURREY DEMONIAC.[156]\n\n\"What, Satan! is this the Dancing that Richard gave himself to thee for?\nCan'st thou Dance no better? Ransack the old Records of all past Times and\nPlaces in thy Memory: Can'st thou not there find out some better way of\nTrampling? Pump thine Invention dry: Cannot that universal Seed-plot of\nsubtile Wiles and Stratagems spring up one new Method of Cutting Capers?\nIs this the top of Skill and Pride, to shuffle Feet, and brandish Knees\nthus, and to trip like a Doe, and skip like a Squirrel? And wherein\ndiffers thy Leapings from the Hoppings of a Frog, or Bouncings of a Goat,\nor Friskings of a Dog, or Gesticulations of a Monkey? And cannot a Palsy\nshake such a loose Leg as that? Dost thou not twirl like a Calf that hath\nthe Turn, and twitch up thy Houghs just like a Spring-hault Tit?\" This was\none of the conversations, or rather exhortations, which the dissenting\nministers had with the devil inhabiting Richard Dugdale--he who was called\nby some the Surrey demoniac,[157] by others the impostor, as faith or\nreason was the stronger. Richard drew largely upon the faith of his\ngeneration, largely even for the credulous generation flourishing in the\nyear of our Lord 1695: for Richard the \"possessed\" vomited gold, silver,\nand brass rings, hair buttons, blue stones like flints, and once a big\nstone bloody at the edges; and he was transformed sometimes to the manner\nof a horse, when he would gallop round the barn on all fours, quite as\nquickly as any cob ever foaled, and whinny like a cob, and eat provender\nlike a cob; and sometimes he was like a dog, \"harring\" and snarling and\ngrowling and barking so like a mastiff, that once a dog, a real mastiff\nand no counterfeit, set upon him, and would have given him rather an\nundesirable taste of canine fraternity had he not been prevented. Then he\nwould be heavy or light in the same fit--now so heavy that six men could\nnot lift him, now so light that he did not weigh six pounds: \"sometimes\nlight as a Feather-Boulster, but before he came out heavier than a Load of\nCorn,\" says a husbandman; \"as light as a Chip, and as heavy as a horse,\"\nsays a carpenter: and he had fits of leaping, as fast as a man could\ncount; and he would dance on his toes and his knees, with marvellous\nagility--dance more quickly than ordinary men, not possessed, could do on\ntheir honest feet; then he would lie as if dead; or he would gape and\nsnatch with his mouth, catching at flies; and he had noises in his mouth\nand breast, as if a family of young whelps were lapping, snarling, or\nsucking in his inside; and he rolled up his tongue into a lump and turned\nhis eyes inward; and talked gibberish, which some one said was Latin; and\nplayed with rushes as if they had been dice and bowls. \"And when he had\nthrown the 'Jack,' he said, 'I must now throw my Gill;' then running a\ngood way, as if he had been running after a bowl, swearing, 'Run, Run,\nFlee, Flee, Hold a Biass;' and sometimes he catched up rushes, as if they\nhad been bowls, swearing, 'Sirrah, stand out of the Way, or I'll knock out\nyour Brains,' adding, 'I never was a Bowler, But don't Gentlemen do\nthus?'\" which is scarcely evidence to us that he was possessed, or in any\nabnormal condition whatsoever. Neither was his habit of swearing and\ncursing, \"so that he would have affrighted ordinary men,\" any very\ndistinct sign of supernaturalism; nor yet his insolence in saying to Mr.\nCarrington, who had adjured the devil in him mightily, \"Thou shalt be\nPorter of Hell-Gates, Thou'st have Brewis and Toad Broath.\" Any bold-faced\nlad of eighteen might have said the same under cover of what he chose to\ncall a fit. And as for the strange swelling, as big as a turkey's egg,\nwhich ran like a mouse about his body, whatever in that account was\nnaturally impossible was either trick on his part, or self-deception on\nthe part of those who gave their testimony. Besides, they were all\ninclined to believe. Why, John Fletcher, who slept one night with\nRichard, and felt something come up towards his knees, creeping higher and\nhigher till it got to his heart--something about the bigness of a little\ncat or dog, which when he thought to catch \"slipped through his hands like\na Snig\"--even that most unterrifying occurrence was transformed into a\ndemoniacal visitant, and the thing that slipped through John Fletcher's\nhands like a snig was no other than Richard Dugdale's devil come to pay\nhim a midnight visit. Then Richard laid stones like hens' eggs, and in the\nmanner of hens; and he flung them to incredible distances when newly laid,\nand they felt warm as milk; and he showed a slight amount of power in the\nmatter of clairvoyance; but, oh faithless, feeble devil! when Drs. Chew\nand Crabtree got hold of him, and bled him well, and gave him physic, the\ndevil, who hates blue pill and black draught worse than holy water, flew\naway, and what all the prayers and fastings and exhortations of the\nministry could not do, the lancet and a good dose of calomel and aloes\neffected without trouble. And then Richard Dugdale confessed that he had\nnever been possessed, but only ill, in consequence of a fight he had had\nwith a man at a rush-bearing at Whalley, while he, Master Richard, was in\ndrink. The next day he was heavy and troubled in his mind, and drank a\nquantity of cold water while in the hay field making hay; but being\nadvised to go up to the hall and get a drink of something more nourishing,\nhe took the advice, and went into the house, where the cook maid gave him\nsome drink; and then he went into his own room and lay down. While thus on\nthe bed the chamber door seemed to him to open of itself, and there came a\nthick smoke or mist, which on vanishing left him in extreme fear and\nhorror; then appeared one Hindle, a fellow servant, with his hair cropped\nclose to his ears, and he lay very heavy on his breast, but soon turned\nhimself into the likeness of a naked child, which he caught by the knee;\nbut the child became a \"filmet\" (foumart, pole-cat?), and went away with a\nshrill shriek. After this he raved, and was delirious; but when Dr. Chew\nphysicked him, and Dr. Crabtree bled him, and Dr. Chew physicked him\nagain, he had no more \"fits,\" no more \"obsessions\" or \"possessions,\" was\nno longer the demoniac of Surrey, half maniac, half impostor, but went\nquietly back to ordinary life, and the whole tribe of exorcising ministers\nwere for once discomfited. It was a singular mercy to his friends and\nacquaintances that Master Richard did not take it into his head to delate\nany of them as witches, for assuredly he might have hanged half Lancashire\non the strength of the whelps inside his body, and his galloping on all\nfours like a horse. He would not have been the first to shed innocent\nblood for the sake of keeping up a notoriety which, originally begun in\nvery ordinary and natural disease, was afterwards continued in deception,\nfraud, and lies.\n\n\nTHE GROCER'S YOUNG MAN.[158]\n\nA few years after (1704) Sarah Griffiths lay suspected for a witch, and a\nbad one, for all the children in her neighbourhood were afflicted with\nstrange distempers, and had visions of cats and the like, so that no one\ncoveted poor Sarah's company, and many removed because of her. Her guilt\nwas discovered at last by a jolly young grocer's lad, who was one day\nweighing her out some soap, but the scales would not hang right, whereat\nhe laughed and cried out they were bewitched. Sarah Griffiths did not\nunderstand joking. She got very angry, and ran out of the shop threatening\nrevenge; and the next night all the goods in the shop were turned\ntopsy-turvy, and the day after the jolly young fellow was troubled with a\nstrange disease--but by prayer released. Meeting her by chance some time\nafter, as he and some friends were walking up to New River Head, they\nresolved to swim her. They tossed her in, and she swam like a cork. They\nkept her there for some time, but at last she got out, and struck the\nyoung man on the arm, telling him he should pay dearly for what he had\ndone. He looked at his arm and found it black as a coal, with the exact\nmark of her hand and fingers on it. He went home much tormented, vomiting\nold nails, pins, and the like, afflicted with fits and strange\ncontortions, and for ever calling out against Mother Griffiths as he lay\nsickening and disabled. And then his arm gangrened and rotted off: whereby\nhe died. Mother Griffith was taken by the constable, who, on her\nattempting to escape, knocked her down. She was secured more firmly, taken\nbefore the judge, and committed to Bridewell, whence--though I find no\nsequel to this strange little page--there is very little doubt that she\nwas haled forth at the assizes only to be convicted and hanged.\n\nWe are coming now (1712) to the last authentic trial for witchcraft where\nthe accused was condemned to death for an impossible crime by a jury of\nsane, decent, respectable Englishmen. Jane Wenham was this latest offshoot\nof the old tree of judicial bigotry; not the latest fruit, but the last\ninstance of the law and judgment. There is a report current in most witch\nbooks of a case at a later period--but I can find no _authentic_ account\nof it--that, in 1716, of a Mrs. Hicks and her little daughter of nine,\nhanged at Huntingdon for selling their souls to the devil, bewitching\ntheir neighbours to death and their crops to ruin, and, as a climax to\nall, taking off their stockings to raise a storm. It may well be so, but I\nhave not met with it in any reliable shape, so meanwhile we must accept\nJane Wenham as the last officially condemned.\n\n\nTHE WITCH OF WALKERNE.[159]\n\nJane Wenham was the witch of Walkerne, a little village in the north of\nHertford. She had long lived under ill fame, and her neighbours were\nresolved to get rid of her at the earliest opportunity. That opportunity\npresented itself in the person of John Chapman's man, one Matthew Gilson,\nwhom Jane sent into a daft state by asking him for a pennyworth of straw,\nwhich he refused to give her. The old woman went away, muttering and\ncomplaining, whereupon Matthew, impelled by he knew not what impulse, ran\nout of the barn for a distance of three miles, asking as he went for\npennyworths of straw. Not getting any, he went on to some dirt heaps, and\ngathered up straw from them, which he put in his shirt and brought home. A\nwitness testified that he had seen Gilson come back with his shirt stuffed\nfull of straw, that he moved along quickly, and walked straight through\nthe water, instead of passing over the bridge like any other decent man.\nFor this odd behaviour of his servant, John Chapman, who had all along\nsuspected Jane of more cunning than was good for him or her--called her a\nwitch the next time he saw her; and Jane took him before the magistrate,\nSir Herbert Chauncey, to answer to the charge of defamation. But the\nmagistrate recommended them to go to Mr. Gardiner the minister, and a\ngreat believer in witchcraft, and get their matter settled without more\ntrouble or vexation. Mr. Gardiner was too zealous to be just. He scolded\npoor old Jane roundly, and advised her to live more peaceably with her\nneighbours--which was just what she wanted to do--and gave as his award\nthat Chapman do pay the fine of one shilling. While this bit of one-sided\njustice was going on, Anne Thorne, Mr. Gardiner's servant, was sitting by\nthe fire with a dislocated knee. Jane, not able to compass her wicked will\non Chapman, and angry that Mr. Gardiner had spoken so harshly to her,\nturned her malice on the girl, and bewitched her, so that as soon as they\nall left the kitchen Anne felt a strange \"Roaming in her Head, and she\nthought she must of Necessity run somewhere.\" In spite then of her\ndislocated knee, she started off and ran up the close, and away over a\nfive-barred gate \"as nimbly as a greyhound,\" along the highway and up a\nhill. And there she met two of John Chapman's men, who wanted her to go\nhome with them; and one took her hand; but she was forced away from them,\nspeechless, and not of her own volition, and so was driven on, on, towards\nCromer, where the great sea would have either stopped or received her. But\nwhen she came to Hockney Lane, she met there a \"little Old Woman muffled\nup in a Riding-Hood,\" who asked her whither she was going. \"To Cromer,\"\nsays Anne, \"for sticks to make me a fire.\" \"There be no sticks at Cromer,\"\nsays the little old woman in the riding hood: \"here be sticks enow; go to\nthat oak tree and pluck them there.\" Which Anne did, laying them on the\nground as they were gathered. Then the old woman bade her pull off her\ngown and apron, and wrap the sticks in them; asking her if she had ne'er a\npin about her; but finding that she had not, she gave her a large crooked\npin, with which she bade her pin her bundle, then vanished away. So Anne\nThorne ran home half naked, with her bundle of leaves and sticks in her\nhand, and sat down in the kitchen, crying out \"I am ruined and undone!\"\n\nWhen Mrs. Gardiner had opened the bundle, and seen all the twigs and\nleaves, she said they would burn the witch, and not wait long about it; so\nthey flung the twigs and leaves into the fire; and while they were burning\nin came Jane Wenham, asking for Anne's mother, for she had, she said, a\nmessage to her, how that she was to go and wash next day at Ardley Bury,\nSir Herbert Chauncey's place: which on inquiry turned out to be a\nfalsehood: consequently Jane Wenham was set down doubly as a witch, the\ncharm of burning her in the sticks having proved so effectual. John\nChapman and his men then told their tale. Mr. Gardiner was not slow in\nfanning the flame into a fire, and poor old Jane was examined, searched\nfor marks but none found, and committed to gaol, there to wait her trial\nat the next assizes. She earnestly entreated not to go to prison;\nprotested her innocence, and appealed to Mrs. Gardiner to help her,\nwoman-like, and not to swear against her; offering to submit to be\nswum--anything they would--so that she might be kept free of jail. But Sir\nHerbert Chauncey was just manly and rational enough not to allow of this\ntest, though the Vicar of Ardeley tried her with the Lord's Prayer, which\nshe could not repeat: and terrified and tortured her into a kind of\nconfession, wherein she implicated three other women, who were\nimmediately put under arrest, though they came to no harm in the end. When\nshe was brought to trial, sixteen witnesses, including three clergymen,\nwere standing there ready to testify against her, how that she had\nbewitched this one's cattle, and that one's sheep; and taken all the power\nfrom this one's body, and all the good from that one's gear; and\nslaughtered this child, and that man, by her evil eye and her curses; and\nin fact how that she had done all the mischief that had happened in the\nneighbourhood for years past. And there was Matthew Gilson, who had been\nsent mad, and forced to wander about the country with his shirt stuffed\nfull of straw like a scarecrow; and Anne Thorne, who had had fits ever\nsince her marvellous journey with the dislocated knee; and another Anne,\nvery nearly as hardly holden as the first; and others beside, whom her\nmalice had rendered sick and lame, and unfit for decent life: moreover,\ntwo veracious witnesses deposed positively to her taking the form of a cat\nwhen she would, and to hearing her converse with the devil when under the\nform of a cat, he also as a cat; together with Anne Thorne's distinct\naccusation that she was beset with cats--tormented exceedingly--and that\nall the cats had the face and the voice of Jane Wenham.\n\nThe lawyers, who believed little in the devil and less in witchcraft,\nrefused to draw up the indictment on any other charge save that of\n\"conversing familiarly with the devil in the form of a cat.\" But in spite\nof Mr. Bragge's earnest appeals against such profanation, and the ridicule\nwhich it threw over the whole matter, the jury found the poor old creature\nguilty, and the judge passed sentence of death against her. The evidence\nwas too strong. Even one of the Mr. Chaunceys deposed that a cat came\nknocking at his door, and that he killed it--when it vanished away, for it\nwas no other than one of Jane Wenham's imps; and all Mr. Gardiner's house\nwent mad, some in one way and some in another: and credible witnesses\ndeposed that they had seen pins come jumping through the air into Anne\nThorne's mouth, and when George Chapman clapped his hand before her mouth\nto prevent them skipping in, he felt one stick against his hand, as sharp\nas might be; and every night Anne's pincushion was left full, and every\nmorning found empty, and who but Jane could have conveyed them all from\nthe pincushion into her mouth, where they were to be found all crooked and\nbent? But though the jury could not resist the tremendous weight of all\nthis evidence, and the judge could not resist the jury, he managed to get\na reprieve which left the people time to cool and reflect, and then he got\na pardon for her--quietly and kindly done. And Colonel Plummer, of\nGilston, took her under his protection, and gave her a small cottage near\nhis house, where she lived, poor soul, in peace and safety for the end of\nher days, doing harm to no one and feared by none. As for Anne Thorne, the\ndoctor, who had ordered her, as part of his remedy, to wash her hands and\nface twice a day in fair water, and who, as another part, had her watched\nand sat with by a \"lusty young fellow\" who asked nothing better, managed\nmatters so well, that in a short time Anne and her brisk bachelor were\nmarried; and from that time we hear no more of her vomiting crooked pins,\nor being tormented with visions of cats wearing Jane Wenham's face, and\nspeaking with Jane Wenham's voice. But though all the rest got well off\nwith their frights and follies, no public compensation was given to poor\nold Jane for the brutal attacks of the mob upon her, for the hauling and\nmaiming and scratching and tearing, by which they proved to their own\nsatisfaction that she was a witch, and deserved only the treatment\naccorded to witches.\n\n\nOUR LATEST.\n\nBut if the last officially condemned, Jane was not the last actually\ndestroyed, for a curious MS. letter to be found in the British Museum\n\"From Mr. Manning, Dissenting Teacher, at Halstead, in Essex, to John\nMorley, Esq., Halstead,\" gives us a strange garbled account of a reputed\nsacrifice; and the sadder and more brutal story of Ruth Osborne follows a\nfew years after.\n\n\"Halstead, August 2, 1732.\n\n\"SIR--The narrative which I gave you in relation to witchcraft, and which\nyou are pleased to lay your commands upon me to repeat, is as\nfollows:--There was one Master Collett, a smith by trade, of Haveningham,\nin the county of Suffolk, who, as 'twas customary with him, assisting the\nmaide to churne, and not being able (as the phrase is) to make the butter\ncome, threw a hot iron into the churn, under the notion of witchcraft in\nthe case, upon which a poore labourer, then employed in carrying of dung\nin the yard, cried out in a terrible manner, 'They have killed me, they\nhave killed me;' still keeping his hand upon his back, intimating where\nthe pain was, and died upon the spot.\n\n\"Mr. Collett, with the rest of the servants then present, took off the\npoor man's clothes, and found to their great surprise, the mark of the\niron that was heated and thrown into the churn, deeply impressed upon his\nback. This account I had from Mr. Collett's own mouth, who being a man of\nunblemished character, I verily believe to be matter of fact.\n\n\"I am, Sir, your obliged humble Servant,\n\n\"SAM. MANNING.\"\n\n\nThe only falsehood, probably, in the history is the manner of the poor\nfellow's death, for either he was foully murdered on a wild suspicion of\nbeing concerned in the witching of a dirty milk vessel, or he died\nsuddenly of some ordinary organic complaint, and the circumstances of the\nhorse-shoe and the scarred back were purely imaginary. But again in 1751\nwas witch blood actually poured out on English soil, and the cry of the\ninnocent murdered sent up to heaven in vain for mercy. At Tring, in\nHertfordshire, lived an old man, one Osborne, and his wife; poor as\nwitches always were; old--past seventy both of them--and obliged to beg\nfrom door to door for what, if the popular superstition was true, the\ndevil had given them power to possess at any moment for themselves. But\nthis was a point of view no one ever took. In the rebellion of '45, just\nsix years ago, old Mother Osborne had gone to one Butterfield, a dairyman\nliving at Gubblecot, to beg for buttermilk. Butterfield was a churlish\nfellow, and told her roughly that he had not enough for his hogs, still\nless for her. Says old Mother Osborne, grumbling, \"The Pretender will soon\nhave thee and thy hogs too.\" Now the Pretender and the devil were in\nleague together, according to the belief of many, and old Mother Osborne\nmight just as well have told the dairyman at once that he was going to the\ndevil, or that she would send her imps to bewitch him; for soon\nButterfield's calves became distempered, and soon his cows died, and his\naffairs went so far to the bad that he left his dairy and took a public\nhouse, in hopes that the imps which could bewitch the one might be\npowerless against the other. But he reckoned without his host, for in 1751\nhe himself was bewitched; he had fits--bad fits--and sent for a white\nwitch all the way from Northamptonshire to tell him what ailed him. The\nwhite witch told him he was bewitched, and bade six men, with staves and\npitchforks hanging round their necks as counter charms for their own\nsafety, watch his house night and day. Doubtless they discovered all they\nwere set there to seek.\n\nSuddenly there appeared a notice that certain and various witches were to\nbe ducked at Longmarston the 22nd day of April. A crowd assembled at Tring\nto watch the sport; and but one thought went through that crowd--the\nOsbornes were to be the ducked witches, and the sport they would have\nwould be rare. The parish officers had taken the old couple into the\nworkhouse for safety, but the mob broke through the gates, and crushed\ndown the doors, and searched the whole place through, from end to end,\neven to the salt box, \"lest the witch should have made herself little,\"\nand have hidden in the corners. But they could not find her, not even\nthere; so, in a rage, they broke the windows, smashed the furniture, and\nthen heaped up straw high against the house, threatening to burn it down,\nand every living soul within it, if the Osbornes were not given up them.\nThe master was frightened; he had never faced such a scene before, and his\nnerve forsook him--not unreasonably. He brought the old people from their\nhiding place, and gave them up to that wild, tossing, furious mob. In a\nmoment they were stripped stark naked, then cross-bound in the prescribed\nmanner, wrapped loosely in a sheet, and dragged two miles along the road\nto a small pond or river, where with many a curse and many a kick they\nwere thrown in, to prove whether they were witches or not. A chimney\nsweeper, called Colley, was the most active of the crew. Seeing that\nMother Osborne did not sink, he waded into the water and turned her over\nwith his stick. She slipped out of the sheet, and thus lay exposed, naked,\nand half choked with mud, before the brutal crowd, who saw nothing\npitiful, and nothing shameful, in her state. After a time they dragged her\nout, flung her on the bank, and kicked and beat her till she died. Her\nhusband died also, but not on the spot. The man who had arranged this rare\ndiversion then went round among the crowd collecting money in return for\nhis amusement. But government took the matter up. A coroner's inquest was\nheld, and a verdict of wilful murder returned against Colley, the chimney\nsweep, who, much to his own surprise and the indignation of the\npeople--many ranking him as a martyr--was hanged by the neck till he was\ndead, for the murder of the witch of Tring, poor old Ruth Osborne. The act\nagainst witchcraft, under colour and favour of which all the judicial\nmurders had been done, had been repealed a few years before, namely, in\n1736, and Colley's comrades bewailed piteously the degenerate times that\nwere at hand, when a witch was no longer held fit sport for the public,\nbut was protected and defended like ordinary folk, and let to live on to\nwork her wicked will unchecked.\n\nBut the snake is scotched, not killed. So far are we in advance of the men\nof the ruder past, inasmuch as our superstitions, though quite as silly,\nare less cruel than theirs, and hurt no one but ourselves. Yet still we\nhave our wizards and witches lurking round area gates and prowling through\nthe lanes and yards of the remoter country districts; still we have our\nnecromancers, who call up the dead from their graves to talk to us more\ntrivial nonsense than ever they talked while living, and who reconcile us\nwith earth and humanity by showing us how infinitely inferior are heaven\nand spirituality; still we have the unknown mapped out in clear lines\nsharp and firm; and still the impossible is asserted as existing, and men\nare ready to give their lives in attestation of what contravenes every law\nof reason and of nature; still we are not content to watch and wait and\ncollect and fathom before deciding, but for every new group of facts or\nappearances must at once draw up a code of laws and reasons, and prove, to\na mathematical certainty, the properties of a chimera, and the divine life\nand beauty--of a lie. Even the mere vulgar belief in witchcraft remains\namong the lower classes; as witness the old gentleman who died at Polstead\nnot so long ago, and who, when a boy, had seen a witch swum in Polstead\nPonds, \"and she went over the water like a cork;\" who had also watched\nanother witch feeding her three imps like blackbirds; and who only wanted\nfive pounds to have seen all the witches in the parish dance on a knoll\ntogether: as witness also the strange letter of the magistrate, in the\n'Times' of April 7, 1857; and the stranger trial at Stafford, concerning\nthe bewitched condition of the Charlesworths, small farmers living at\nRugely, which trial is to be found in the 'Times' of March 28, 1857; the\ncase reported by the clergyman of East Thorpe, Essex, who had actually to\nmount guard against the door of an old Trot accused of witchcraft; while\nthe instances of silly servant maids, and fortune tellers whose hands are\nto be crossed with silver, and the stars propitiated with cast off dresses\nand broken meat, are as numerous as ever. And, indeed, so long as\nconviction without examination, and belief without proof, pass as the\nrighteous operations of faith, so long will superstition and credulity\nreign supreme over the mind, and the functions of critical reason be\nabandoned and foresworn. And as it seems to me that credulity is even a\nless desirable frame of mind than scepticism, I have set forth this\ncollection of witch stories as landmarks of the excesses to which a blind\nbelief may hurry and impel humanity, and perhaps as some slight aids to\nthat much misused common sense which the holders of impossible theories\ngenerally consider \"enthusiastic,\" and of \"a nobler life\" to tread under\nfoot, and loftily ignore.\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\nLONDON: PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] Pitcairn's 'Scottish Criminal Trials.'\n\n[2] Pitcairn's 'Scottish Criminal Trials.'\n\n[3] Pitcairn.\n\n[4] Pitcairn.\n\n[5] Pitcairn.\n\n[6] Pitcairn.\n\n[7] An iron instrument so constructed, that by means of a hoop which\npassed over the head, a piece of iron having four prongs or points, was\nforcibly thrust into the mouth, two of these being directed to the tongue\nand palate, the others pointing outwards to each cheek. This infernal\nmachine was secured by a padlock. At the back of the collar was fixed a\nring, by which to attach to a staple in the wall of her cell.--_Pitcairn's\n'Scottish Criminal Trials.'_\n\n[8] Fountainhall says that she was convict and burnt; but is this not a\nmistake? Pitcairn gives the actual trial, and King James's angry letter\nagainst the contumacious assisa.\n\n[9] Pitcairn.\n\n[10] Dr. Jamieson conjectures the word to signify \"warm hose.\" After\nencircling the leg with an iron framework, it was put into a moveable\nfurnace or chauffer, and during the progress of heating the iron, the\nintended questions were successively put.--_Note in Pitcairn's 'Scottish\nCriminal Trials.'_\n\n[11] Pitcairn's 'Scottish Criminal Trials.'\n\n[12] Chambers' 'Domestic Annals of Scotland.'\n\n[13] 'Antiquarian Researches of Aberdeen, by Gavin Turriff: Spalding Club\nMiscellany. Chambers' 'Domestic Annals,' to the end of the Aberdeen\ntrials.\n\n[14] Apparently untranslateable.\n\n[15] Patrick Anderson's MS. history of Scotland, quoted by Robert\nChambers, in his 'Domestic Annals of Scotland.'\n\n[16] Pitcairn.\n\n[17] Pitcairn and Chambers.\n\n[18] Pitcairn.\n\n[19] Pitcairn.\n\n[20] Dalyell's 'Darker Superstitions of Scotland.'\n\n[21] Scott's 'Demonology and Witchcraft.'\n\n[22] Pitcairn.\n\n[23] Pitcairn and Chambers.\n\n[24] Star-grass, queries Pitcairn; but is it not rather\nfox-tree--fox-glove?\n\n[25] Chambers, Dalyell, Pitcairn.\n\n[26] Dalyell, quoting the judiciary records of Orkney.\n\n[27] Hibbert, quoting the Orkney Records.\n\n[28] Pitcairn. Sharpe's Introduction to Law's 'Memorials.'\n\n[29] Dalyell.\n\n[30] Law's 'Memorials,' (Sharpe's Introduction,) and Dalyell.\n\n[31] Chambers, Sinclair, Dalyell.\n\n[32] Dalyell's 'Darker Superstitions.'\n\n[33] Pitcairn. Law's 'Memorials.' Chambers.\n\n[34] Dalyell.\n\n[35] Chambers.\n\n[36] Chambers.\n\n[37] Dalyell.\n\n[38] Chambers and Law; Sharpe's Introduction.\n\n[39] Hibbert's 'Description of the Shetland Islands.'\n\n[40] Dalyell. Evidently the same thing with a different reading:--_red_,\nrode; _sool-soot_, stirrup; _sled_, slipped; _shinew_, sinew.\n\n[41] Hibbert, &c.\n\n[42] Sinclair's 'Invisible World Discovered.'\n\n[43] Pitcairn.\n\n[44] Sinclair.\n\n[45] To the outer room.\n\n[46] To the inner room.\n\n[47] Chambers.\n\n[48] Chambers.\n\n[49] Pitcairn and Sinclair.\n\n[50] Chambers' 'Domestic Annals.'\n\n[51] Law--Sharp's Introduction.\n\n[52] Dalyell.\n\n[53] Chambers.\n\n[54] Law's 'Memorials'--Sharp's Introductory Notice.\n\n[55] Pitcairn.\n\n[56] On life: alive.\n\n[57] Chambers. Sinclair. Various tracts.\n\n[58] Chambers. Dickie. Tracts.\n\n[59] Law's 'Memorials.'\n\n[60] Chambers.\n\n[61] Law's 'Memorials.'\n\n[62] Scots' Magazine.\n\n[63] Sinclair's 'Invisible World.'\n\n[64] Sinclair.\n\n[65] Hibbert's 'Shetland Islands.'\n\n[66] Hibbert and Sinclair.\n\n[67] Fountainhall.\n\n[68] Hibbert.\n\n[69] Chambers.\n\n[70] Watson's Tract, printed 1698. Chambers, Dickie, and various other\nsources.\n\n[71] Chambers.\n\n[72] Chambers.\n\n[73] Chambers; Sinclair; and an anonymous tract.\n\n[74] Chambers.\n\n[75] Hibbert.\n\n[76] Law's 'Memorials;' and Chambers.\n\n[77] A crazy old Illuminatus, who had a \"call,\" and wrote the Tinkler's\nTestament.\n\n[78] Scott. Dickie. Chambers, &c.\n\n[79] Dickie's 'Philosophy of Magic.'\n\n[80] 'Select Cases of Conscience.'\n\n[81] 'Discoverie of Witchcraft.'\n\n[82] 'Discoverie of Witchcraft,' 1584.\n\n[83] 'Dialogue concerning Witches,' 1603.\n\n[84] 'Select Cases of Conscience touching Witches and Witchcraft,' 1646.\n\n[85] 'Advertisement to the Jurymen of England,' 1653.\n\n[86] 'A Candle in the Dark,' 1656.\n\n[87] 'Question of Witchcraft debated,' 1669. \"Wagstaffe was a little\ncrooked man, of a despicable presence. He was laughed at by the boys of\nOxford because they said he himself looked like a wizard.\"\n\n[88] 'Displaying of Witchcraft,' 1677.\n\n[89] 'Historical Essay concerning Witchcraft,' 1720.\n\n[90] Introduction to Potts's 'Discovery of Witches,' edited by James\nCrossley, Esq. Chetham Society. 1845.\n\n[91] Conjuration or invocation of any evil spirit was felony without\nbenefit of clergy; so also to consult, covenant with, entertain, feed, or\nreward any evil spirit, or to take up any dead body for charms or spells;\nto use or practise witchcrafts, enchantment, charm, or sorcery, so that\nany one was lamed, killed, or pined, was felony without benefit of clergy,\nto be followed up by burning. Then 'The Country Justice' goes on to give\nthe legal signs of a witch, and those on which a magistrate might safely\nact, as legal \"discoveries.\" She was to be found and proved by insensible\nmarks; by teats; by imps in various shapes, such as toads, mice, flies,\nspiders, cats, dogs, &c.; by pictures of wax or clay; by the accusations\nof the afflicted; by her apparition seen by the afflicted as coming to\ntorment them; by her own sudden or frequent inquiries at the house of the\nsick; by common report; by the accusations of the dying; and the bleeding\nof the corpse at her touch; by the testimony of children; by the afflicted\nvomiting pins, needles, straw, &c.; in short, by all the foolery, gravely\nformularized, to be found in the lies and deceptions hereafter related.\n\n[92] Thomas Wright's 'Narrative of Sorcery and Magic.' Southey's Ballad.\n\n[93] Thomas Wright's 'Narrative of Sorcery and Magic,' and 'Trial of Dame\nAlice Kyteler.'\n\n[94] Idem.\n\n[95] 'Introduction to the Narrative of the Proceedings against Dame Alice\nKyteler.' By Thomas Wright. 1843.\n\n[96] Wright's 'Narrative of Sorcery and Magic.' 1851.\n\n[97] Reginald Scot.\n\n[98] Reginald Scot. Dr. Hutchinson.\n\n[99] Stow.\n\n[100] Scot, quoting a little pamphlet, without a title, which I cannot\nfind.\n\n[101] From an extremely rare black-letter book, entitled 'A Detection of\ndamnable driftes, practized by three Witches arraigned at Chelmsforde, in\nEssex, at the laste Assizes there holden, whiche were executed in Aprill\n1579. Set forthe to discouer the Ambushementes of Sathan, whereby he would\nsurprise us lulled in securitie, and hardened with contempte of God's\nvengeance threatened for our offences. Imprinted at London, for Edward\nWhite, at the little North-dore of Paules.'\n\n[102] Scot.\n\n[103] 'A true and just Recorde of the Information, Examination, and\nConfession of all the Witches, taken at S. Osees in the countie of Essex;\nwhereof some were executed, and other some entreated according to the\ndetermination of lawe. Wherein all men may see what a pestilent people\nWitches are, and how vnworthy to lyve in a Christian Commonwealth. Written\norderly, as the cases were tryed by euidence by W. W. Imprinted in London\nat the three Cranes, in the Vinetree, by Thomas Dawson. 1582.'\n\n[104] This was his manner of dealing with the accused, and its falsehood,\niniquity, and injustice need no comment.\n\n[105] The names of the imps which haunted various persons was curious. A\nDutch boy had Pretty Betty, Cuckow, Longtail; and Bernard gives us his\nlist:--\"Mephistophiles, Lucifer, Little Lord, Fimodes, David, Jude, Little\nRobin, Smack, Litefoote, Nonesuch, Lunch, Makeshift, Swash, Pluck, Blue,\nCatch, White, Collins, Hardname, Tibb, Hiff, Ball, Puss, Rutterkin,\nDickie, Prettie, Grissel, and Jacke;\" together with \"Pippin, Philpot,\nModu, Soforce, Hilco, Smolkin, Hillio, Hiaclito, Lustie, Huffe, Cap,\nKillico, Hob, Fratello, Fliberdigibbet, Hoberdidance, Tocobatto, and\nLustie Jollie Jenkin.\" We have seen some of these already, and those who\nread farther will find a few more, and some quite as quaint and odd not\nset down in this list.\n\n[106] 'A true and most dreadfull discourse of a Woman possessed with the\nDeuill; who, in the likenesse of a headlesse Beare, fetched her oute of\nher Bedde, in the presence of seven persons, most straungely roulled her\nthorow three Chambers, and downe a high paire of stairres on the fower and\ntwentie of May last, 1584. At Ditchet, in Somersetshire. A matter as\nmiraculous as ever was seen in our time. Imprinted at London for Thomas\nNelson.'\n\n[107] 'A compleat History of Magick, Sorcery, and Witchcraft.' By Richard\nBoulton. 1715.\n\n[108] Hutchinson's 'Historical Essay concerning Witchcraft.' Boulton's\n'History of Magic.' Harsent's 'Discovery of the Fravdvlent Practises of J.\nDarrel.' 'A True Relation of the Strange and Grevovs Vexation by the Devil\nof 7 Persons in Lancashire, and William Somers of Nottingham.' By John\nDarrel. 1600.\n\n[109] 'A Dialogue concerning Witches and Witchcrafts.' 1603.\n\n[110] This is an old story, found in all books on witchcraft.\n\n[111] George Sinclair's 'Satan's Invisible World Displayed.'\n\n[112] Hutchinson's 'Essay on Witchcraft.'\n\n[113] 'The Witches of Northamptonshire.'\n\n      Agnes Browne, } Arthur Bill,     }\n                    }                  } Witches.\n      Ioane Vaughan,} Hellen Ienkinson,}\n\n                Mary Barber.\n\nWho were all executed at Northampton the 22 of Iuly last, 1612.\n\n'London. Printed by Tho. Purfoot for Arthur Iohnson. 1612.' A rare and\nvaluable little black-letter tract.\n\n[114] 'The Wonderful Discoverie of Witches in the County of Lancaster.' By\nThomas Potts. 1613. Thomas Wright's 'Narrative of Sorcery and Magic.'\n1851.\n\n[115] \"Ligh in,\" perhaps lykinge, lusty, or craske.\n\n[116] \"Leath,\" flexible.\n\n[117] The chrism was the white cloth placed over the brow of a\nnewly-baptized child in the Roman Catholic service. When children died\nwithin the month they were called chrisoms.\n\n[118] \"Farrandly,\" fair, handsome.\n\n[119] \"Harne panne,\" brain case, cranium.\n\n[120] Gethsemane.\n\n[121] \"Deere,\" hurt.\n\n[122] Potts's 'Discovery.' Webster's 'Displaying.'\n\n[123] A 'Treatise of Witchcraft.' By Alexander Roberts, B.D., and Preacher\nof God's word at King's Linne in Norfolk. 1616.\n\n[124] Tract. Printed at London by G. Eld for I. Barnes, dwelling in the\nlong Walke, neare Christ-Church. 1619.\n\n[125] Wright and Hutchinson.\n\n[126] Wright, quoting Lord Londesborough's MSS.\n\n[127] Wright.\n\n[128] Webster. Wright. Harleian MSS.\n\n[129] 'A most Certain Strange and true Discovery of a witch, being taken\nby some Parliamentary Forces as she was standing on a small planck-board\nand sayling on it over the River of Newberry. 1643.' Evidently a political\nmatter, and perhaps with no substratum of truth in the story at all.\n\n[130] A collection of Modern Relations. 1693.\n\n[131] Matthew's own account of them in a little tract called 'Certaine\nQueries Answered, which have been and are likely to be objected against\nMatthew Hopkins, in his way of finding out witches,' was slightly\ndifferent.--1. Holt, like a white kitling.--2. Jarmara, a fat spaniel\nwithout any legs at all, which she said she kept fat, for he sucked good\nblood from her body.--3. Vinegar Tom, a long-legged greyhound with an head\nlike an ox, a long tail and broad eyes, who, when Hopkins spoke to, and\nbade him go to the place provided for him and his angels, transformed\nhimself into the shape of a child of foure years without a head, and gave\nhalf a dozen turns about the house and vanished at the door.--4.\nSack-and-sugar, like a black rabbit; and 5. Newes, like a polecat. Also he\nsaid that no mortal could invent such names as Elemauzer, Pyewacket, Peck\nin the Crown, Griezel Greedigut, &c., which, however, one of our great\nword-masters, Charles Dickens, would find no difficulty in doing, and\nwhich certainly have no very infernal sound in them.\n\n[132] Baxter, Hutchinson, &c.\n\n[133] Baxter.\n\n[134] Tract.\n\n[135] 'The Laws against Witches.' Published by Authority, 1645.\n\n[136] 'Collection of Modern Relations.'\n\n[137] 'The Devil's Delusion.' 1649.\n\n[138] Baxter.\n\n[139] Baxter's 'Certainty of the World of Spirits.'\n\n[140] 'A Prodigious and Tragicall History of the Arraignment, Tryall,\nConfession, and Condemnation of six Witches at Maidstone, in Kent, at the\nAssizes held there in July, Fryday 30, this present year 1652. Before the\nRight Honourable Peter Warburton, one of the Justices of the Common Pleas.\nCollected from the Observations of E. G. Gent, a learned Person, present\nat their Conviction and Condemnation, and digested by H. F. Gent.' London:\nPrinted for Richard Harper in Smithfield, 1652.\n\n[141] A true Relation of one Mrs. Atkins, a Mercer's Wife in Warwick, who\nwas strangely carried away from her house in July last, and hath not since\nbeen heard of.\n\n[142] Dr. George More's 'Antidote to Atheism.' Dr. Lamb's 'Darling.' By\nJames Bower. 1653.\n\n[143] Glanvil's 'Saducismus Triumphatus.'\n\n[144] Reginald Scot.\n\n[145] 'Collection of Modern Relations.'\n\n[146] Glanvil\n\n[147] Glanvil.\n\n[148] Glanvil.\n\n[149] Tract; Published 1682.\n\n[150] Baxter's 'World of Spirits.'\n\n[151] 'Hartfordshire Wonder; or, Strange News from Ware.' London. Printed\nfor John Clark, at the Bible and Harp, in West-Smith-Field, near the\nHospital Gate. 1669.\n\n[152] Boulton's 'Compleat History of Magick.'\n\n[153] Baxter, Hutchinson.\n\n[154] Dr. Hutchinson.\n\n[155] That date seems wrong: ought it not to be 1699?\n\n[156] Boulton's 'Compleat History of Magick.' Dr. Hutchinson's 'Historical\nEssay.'\n\n[157] Surrey in Lancashire.\n\n[158] A Tract of one leaf in a collection of trials.\n\n[159] Various Tracts--and 'Thomas Wright's Narrative.'\n\n[160] Thomas Wright.\n\n\n\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\nText in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).\n\nSuperscripted letters are enclosed within brackets (example:\ny{e} indicates the \"e\" is superscripted).\n\nAdditional spacing after some of the quotes is intentional to\nindicate both the end of a quotation and the beginning of a new\nparagraph as presented in the original text.\n\nSome quotation marks are not paired in the original. Obvious\nerrors have been corrected without comment, while those requiring\ninterpretation have been left as they were.\n\nFootnote 160 (page 424) has no in-text marker in the original.\n\nThe following misprints have been corrected:\n  \"withcraft\" corrected to \"witchcraft\" (page 163)\n  \"hat\" corrected to \"that\" (page 218)\n  \"cying\" corrected to \"crying\" (page 242)\n  \"expeperience\" corrected to \"experience\" (page 404)\n  \"sen\" corrected to \"sent\" (page 418)\n\nOther than the corrections listed above, inconsistencies in spelling\nand hyphenation have been retained from the original text.","title":"Witch Stories","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":132974}