Chapter III: Part 3
[Footnote 41: "The informer was one Edmund Robinson (yet living at the writing hereof, and commonly known by the name of Ned of Roughs) whose Father was by trade a Waller, and but a poor Man, and they finding that they were believed and had incouragement by the adjoyning Magistrates, and the persons being committed to prison or bound over to the next Assizes, the boy, his Father and some others besides did make a practice to go from Church to Church that the Boy might reveal and discover Witches, pretending that there was a great number at the pretended meeting whose faces he could know, and by that means they got a good living, that in a short space the Father bought a Cow or two, when he had none before. And it came to pass that this said Boy was brought into the Church of Kildwick a large parish Church, where I (being then Curate there) was preaching in the afternoon, and was set upon a stall (he being but about ten or eleven years old) to look about him, which moved some little disturbance in the Congregation for a while. And after prayers I inquiring what the matter was, the people told me that it was the Boy that discovered Witches, upon which I went to the house where he was to stay all night, where I found him, and two very unlikely persons that did conduct him, and manage the business; I desired to have some discourse with the Boy in private, but that they utterly refused; then in the presence of a great many people, I took the Boy near me, and said: Good Boy tell me truly, and in earnest, did thou see and hear such strange things of the meeting of Witches, as is reported by many that thou dost relate, or did not some person teach thee to say such things of thy self? But the two men not giving the Boy leave to answer, did pluck him from me, and said he had been examined by two able Justices of the Peace, and they did never ask him such a question, to whom I replied, the persons accused had therefore the more wrong."--Webster's _Displaying of Witchcraft_, p. 276.]
[Footnote 42: This was Richard Shuttleworth of Gawthorp, Esq., who married the daughter and heiress of R. Fleetwood, Esq., of Barton, and died June 1669, aged 82.]
[Footnote 43: John Starkie, Esq., of the family of Starkie of Huntroyd, the same probably who was sheriff of Lancashire 9 Charles I, and one of the seven demoniacs at Cleworth in the year 1595, on whose evidence Hartley was hanged for witchcraft. Having commenced so early, he must by this time have qualified himself, if he only improved the advantages of his Cleworth education, to take the chair and proceed as professor, in all matters appertaining to witchcraft.]
"Who informeth upon oath, (beeinge examined concerninge the greate meetings of the witches) and saith, that upon All-saints day last past, hee, this informer, beeinge with one _Henry Parker_, a neare doore neighbor to him in _Wheatley-lane_,[44] desyred the said _Parker_ to give him leave to get some bulloes,[45] which hee did. In which tyme of gettinge bulloes, hee sawe two greyhounds, viz. a blacke and a browne one, came runninge over the next field towards him, he verily thinkinge the one of them to bee Mr. _Nutters_,[46] and the other to bee Mr. _Robinsons_,[47] the said Mr. _Nutter_ and Mr. _Robinson_ havinge then such like. And the said greyhounds came to him and fawned on him, they havinge about theire necks either of them a coller, and to either of which collers was tyed a stringe, which collers as this informer affirmeth did shine like gould, and hee thinkinge that some either of Mr. _Nutter's_ or Mr. _Robinson's_ family should have followed them: but seeinge noe body to followe them, he tooke the said greyhounds thinkinge to hunt with them, and presently a hare did rise very neare before him, at the sight whereof he cryed, loo, loo, but the dogges would not run. Whereupon beeinge very angry, he tooke them, and with the strings that were at theire collers tyed either of them to a little bush on the next hedge, and with a rod that hee had in his hand, hee bett them. And in stede of the blacke greyhound, one _Dickonson_ wife stoode up (a neighb^r.) whom this informer knoweth, and in steade of the browne greyhound a little boy whom this informer knoweth not. At which sight this informer beeinge affraid indevoured to run away: but beeinge stayed by the woman, viz. by _Dickonson's_ wife, shee put her hand into her pocket, and pulled out a peace of silver much like to a faire shillinge, and offered to give him to hould his tongue, and not to tell, whiche hee refused, sayinge, nay thou art a witch; Whereupon shee put her hand into her pocket againe, and pulled out a stringe like unto a bridle[48] that gingled, which shee put upon the litle boyes heade that stood up in the browne greyhounds steade; whereupon the said boy stood up a white horse. Then immediately the said _Dickonson_ wife tooke this informer before her upon the said horse, and carried him to a new house called _Hoarestones_,[49] beinge about a quarter of a mile off, whither, when they were comme, there were divers persons about the doore, and hee sawe divers others cominge rideinge upon horses of severall colours towards the said house, which tyed theire horses to a hedge neare to the sed house; and which persons went into the sed house, to the number of threescore or thereabouts, as this informer thinketh, where they had a fyer and meate roastinge, and some other meate stirringe in the house, whereof a yonge woman whom hee this informer knoweth not, gave him flesh and breade upon a trencher, and drinke in a glasse, which, after the first taste, hee refused, and would have noe more, and said it was nought. And presently after, seeinge diverse of the company goinge to a barn neare adioyneinge,[50] hee followed after, and there he sawe sixe of them kneelinge, and pullinge at sixe severall roapes which were fastened or tyed to ye toppe of the house; at or with which pullinge came then in this informers sight flesh smoakeinge, butter in lumps, and milke as it were syleinge[51] from the said roapes, all which fell into basons whiche were placed under the saide roapes. And after that these sixe had done, there came other sixe which did likewise, and duringe all the tyme of theire so pullinge, they made such foule faces that feared[52] this informer, soe as hee was glad to steale out and run home, whom, when they wanted, some of theire company came runninge after him neare to a place in a high way, called Boggard-hole,[53] where this informer met two horsemen, at the sight whereof the sed persons left followinge him, and the foremost of which persons yt followed him, hee knoweth to bee one _Loynd_ wife, which said wife, together with one _Dickonson_ wife, and one _Jenet Davies_[54] he hath seene at severall tymes in a croft or close adioninge to his fathers house, whiche put him in a greate feare. And further, this informer saith, upon Thursday after New Yeares day last past, he sawe the sed _Loynd_ wife sittinge upon a crosse peece of wood, beeinge within the chimney of his father's dwellinge house, and hee callinge to her, said, come downe thou _Loynd_ wife, and immediately the sed _Loynd_ wife went up out of his sight. And further, this informer saith, yt after hee was comme from ye company aforesed to his father's house, beeinge towards eveninge, his father bad him goe fetch home two kyne to seale,[55] and in the way, in a field called the Ollers, hee chanced to hap upon a boy, who began to quarrell with him, and they fought soe together till this informer had his eares made very bloody by fightinge, and lookinge downe, hee sawe the boy had a cloven foote, at which sight hee was affraid, and ran away from him to seeke the kyne. And in the way hee sawe a light like a lanthorne, towards which he made hast, supposinge it to bee carried by some of Mr. _Robinson's_ people: But when hee came to the place, hee onley found a woman standinge on a bridge, whom, when hee sawe her, he knewe to bee _Loynd_ wife, and knowinge her, he turned backe againe, and immediatly hee met with ye aforesed boy, from whom he offered to run, which boy gave him a blow on the back which caus'd him to cry. And hee farther saith, yt when hee was in the barne, he sawe three women take three pictures from off the beame, in the which pictures many thornes, or such like things sticked, and yt _Loynd_ wife tooke one of the said pictures downe, but thother two women yt tooke thother two pictures downe hee knoweth not.[56] And beeinge further asked, what persons were at ye meeteinge aforesed, hee nominated these persons hereafter mentioned, viz. _Dickonson_ wife, _Henry Priestley_ wife and her sone, _Alice Hargreaves_ widdowe, _Jennet Davies_, _Wm. Davies_, uxor. _Hen. Jacks_ and her sone _John_, _James Hargreaves_ of _Marsden_, _Miles_ wife of _Dicks_, _James_ wife, _Saunders_ sicut credit, _Lawrence_ wife of _Saunders_, _Loynd_ wife, _Buys_ wife of _Barrowford_, one _Holgate_ and his wife sicut credit, _Little Robin_ wife of _Leonard's_, of the _West Cloase_.[57]
[Footnote 44: Wheatley-lane is still a place of note in Pendle.]
[Footnote 45: Wild plums.]
[Footnote 46: It would seem as if a case of witchcraft in Pendle, without a Nutter in some way connected with it, could not occur.]
[Footnote 47: What Mr. Robinson is intended does not appear. It was a common name in Pendle. It is, however, a curious fact, that a family of this name, _with the alias of Swyer_, (see Potts, confession of Elizabeth Device,) is even now, or very recently was, to be met with in Pendle, of whom the John Robinson, _alias_ Swyer, one of the supposed victims of Witchcraft, was probably an ancestor. There are few instances of an _alias_ being similarly transmitted in families for upwards of two centuries.]
[Footnote 48: Mother Dickenson, as Sir Walter Scott remarks, brings to mind the magician Queen in the Arabian Tales.]
[Footnote 49: This house is still standing, and though it has undergone some modernizations, has every appearance of having been built about this period.]
[Footnote 50: The old barn, so famous as the scene of these exploits, is no longer extant. A more modern and very substantial one has now been erected on its site.]
[Footnote 51: Syleing, from the verb sile or syle, to strain, to pass through a strainer. See Jamieson, under "sile."]
[Footnote 52: Frightened.]
[Footnote 53: Boggard Hole lies in a hollow, near to Hoarstones, and is still known by that name.]
[Footnote 54: "It is the sport to see the engineer hoist with his own petar." Her old occupation as witness having got into other hands, Janet or Jennet Davies, or Device, for the person spoken of appears to be the same with the grand-daughter of Old Demdike, on whose evidence three members of her family were executed, has now to take her place amongst the witnessed against.]
[Footnote 55: Seale, from sele, _s._ a yoke for binding cattle in the stall. Sal (A.S.) denotes "a collar or bond." Somner. Sile (Isl.) seems to bear the very same sense with our sele, being exp. a ligament of leather by which cattle and other things are bound. Vide Jamieson, under "sele."]
[Footnote 56: Heywood and Broome, in their play, "The late Lancashire Witches," 1634, 4to, follow the terms of this deposition very closely. It is very probable that they had seen and conversed with the boy, to whom, when taken up to London, there was a great resort of company. The Lancashire dialect, as given in this play, and by no means unfaithfully, was perhaps derived from conversations with some of the actors in this drama of real life, a drama quite as extraordinary as any that Heywood's imagination ever bodied forth from the world of fiction.
"_Enter Boy with a switch._
_Boy._ Now I have gathered Bullies, and fild my bellie pretty well, i'le goe see some sport. There are gentlemen coursing in the medow hard by; and 'tis a game that I love better than going to Schoole ten to one.
_Enter an invisible spirit. J. Adson[D] with a brace of greyhounds._
What have we here a brace of Greyhounds broke loose from their masters: it must needs be so, for they have both their Collers and slippes about their neckes. Now I looke better upon them, me thinks I should know them, and so I do: these are Mr. Robinsons dogges, that dwels some two miles off, i'le take them up, and lead them home to their master; it may be something in my way, for he is as liberall a gentleman, as any is in our countrie, Come Hector, come. Now if I c'ud but start a Hare by the way, kill her, and carry her home to my supper, I should thinke I had made a better afternoones worke of it than gathering of bullies. Come poore curres along with me.
_Exit._"
* * * * *
"_Enter Boy with the Greyhounds._
A Hare, a Hare, halloe, halloe, the Divell take these curres, will they not stir, halloe, halloe, there, there, there, what are they growne so lither and so lazie? Are Mr. Robinsons dogges turn'd tykes with a wanion? the Hare is yet in sight, halloe, halloe, mary hang you for a couple of mungrils (if you were worth hanging,) and have you serv'd me thus? nay then ile serve you with the like sauce, you shall to the next bush, there will I tie you, and use you like a couple of curs as you are, and though not lash you, yet lash you whilest my switch will hold, nay since you have left your speed, ile see if I can put spirit into you, and put you in remembrance what halloe, halloe meanes.
_As he beats them, there appeared before him Gooddy_ Dickison, _and the Boy upon the dogs, going in._
Now blesse me heaven, one of the Greyhounds turn'd into a woman, the other into a boy! The lad I never saw before, but her I know well; it is my gammer _Dickison_.
_G. Dick._ Sirah, you have serv'd me well to swindge me thus. You yong rogue, you have vs'd me like a dog.
_Boy._ When you had put your self into a dogs skin, I pray how c'ud I help it; but gammer are not you a Witch? if you bee, I beg upon my knees you will not hurt me.
_Dickis._ Stand up my boie, for thou shalt have no harme, Be silent, speake of nothing thou hast seene. And here's a shilling for thee.
_Boy._ Ile have none of your money, gammer, because you are a Witch; and now she is out of her foure leg'd shape, ile see if with my two legs I can out-run her.
_Dickis._ Nay sirra, though you be yong, and I old, you are not so nimble, nor I so lame, but I can overtake you.
_Boy._ But Gammer what do you meane to do with me Now you have me?
_Dickis._ To hugge thee, stroke thee, and embrace thee thus, And teach thee twentie thousand prety things, So thou tell no tales; and boy this night Thou must along with me to a brave feast.
_Boy._ Not I gammer indeed la, I dare not stay out late, My father is a fell man, and if I bee out long, will both chide and beat me.
_Dickis._ Not sirra, then perforce thou shalt along, This bridle helps me still at need, And shall provide us of a steed. Now sirra, take your shape and be Prepar'd to hurrie him and me.
_Exit._
Now looke and tell mee wher's the lad become.
_Boy._ The boy is vanisht, and I can see nothing in his stead But a white horse readie sadled and bridled.
_Dickis._ And thats the horse we must bestride, On which both thou and I must ride, Thou boy before and I behinde, The earth we tread not, but the winde, For we must progresse through the aire, And I will bring thee to such fare As thou ne're saw'st, up and away, For now no longer we can stay.
_She catches him up, and turning round._
_Boy._ Help, help.
_Exit._"
* * * * *
"_Rob._ What place is this? it looks like an old barne: ile peep in at some cranny or other, and try if I can see what they are doing. Such a bevy of beldames did I never behold; and cramming like so many Cormorants: Marry choke you with a mischiefe.
_Gooddy Dickison._ Whoope, whurre, heres a sturre, Never a cat, never a curre, But that we must have this demurre.
_Mal._ A second course.
_Mrs. Gen._ Pull, and pull hard For all that hath lately him prepar'd For the great wedding feast.
_Mall._ As chiefe Of Doughtyes Surloine of rost Beefe.
_All._ Ha, ha, ha.
_Meg._ 'Tis come, 'tis come.
_Mawd._ Where hath it all this while beene?
_Meg._ Some Delay hath kept it, now 'tis here, For bottles next of wine and beere, The Merchants cellers they shall pay for't.
_Mrs. Gener._ Well, What sod or rost meat more, pray tell.
_Good. Dick._ Pul for the Poultry, Foule, and Fish, For emptie shall not be a dish.
_Robin._ A pox take them, must only they feed upon hot meat, and I upon nothing but cold sallads.
_Mrs. Gener._ This meat is tedious, now some Farie, Fetch what belongs unto the Dairie,
_Mal._ Thats Butter, Milk, Whey, Curds and Cheese, Wee nothing by the bargaine leese.
_All._ Ha, ha, ha.
_Goody Dickison._ Boy, theres meat for you.
_Boy._ Thanke you.
_Gooddy Dickis._ And drinke too.
_Meg._ What Beast was by thee hither rid?
_Mawd._ A Badger nab.
_Meg._ And I bestrid A Porcupine that never prickt.
_Mal._ The dull sides of a Beare I kickt. I know how you rid, Lady Nan.
_Mrs. Gen._ Ha, ha, ha, upon the knave my man.
_Rob._ A murrein take you, I am sure my hoofes payd for't.
_Boy._ Meat lie there, for thou hast no taste, and drinke there, for thou hast no relish, for in neither of them is there either salt or savour.
_All._ Pull for the posset, pull.
_Robin._ The brides posset on my life, nay if they come to their spoone meat once, I hope theil breake up their feast presently.
_Mrs. Gen._ So those that are our waiters nere, Take hence this Wedding cheere. We will be lively all, And make this barn our hall.
_Gooddy Dick._ You our Familiers, come. In speech let all be dumbe, And to close up our Feast, To welcome every gest A merry round let's daunce.
_Meg._ Some Musicke then ith aire Whilest thus by paire and paire, We nimbly foot it; strike.
_Musick._
_Mal._ We are obeyd.
_Sprite._ And we hels ministers shall lend our aid.
_Dance and Song together. In the time of which the Boy speakes._
_Boy._ Now whilest they are in their jollitie, and do not mind me, ile steale away, and shift for my selfe, though I lose my life for't.
_Exit._"
* * * * *
"_Dought._ He came to thee like a Boy thou sayest, about thine own bignesse?
_Boy._ Yes Sir, and he asked me where I dwelt, and what my name was.
_Dough._ Ah Rogue!
_Boy._ But it was in a quarrelsome way; Whereupon I was as stout, and ask'd him who made him an examiner?
_Dough._ Ah good Boy.
_Mil._ In that he was my Sonne.
_Boy._ He told me he would know or beat it out of me, And I told him he should not, and bid him doe his worst; And to't we went.
_Dough._ In that he was my sonne againe, ha boy; I see him at it now.
_Boy._ We fought a quarter of an houre, till his sharpe nailes made my eares bleed.
_Dough._ O the grand Divell pare 'em.
_Boy._ I wondred to finde him so strong in my hands, seeming but of mine owne age and bignesse, till I looking downe, perceived he had clubb'd cloven feet like Oxe feet; but his face was as young as mine.
_Dought._ A pox, but by his feet, he may be the Club-footed Horse-coursers father, for all his young lookes.
_Boy._ But I was afraid of his feet, and ran from him towards a light that I saw, and when I came to it, it was one of the Witches in white upon a Bridge, that scar'd me backe againe, and then met me the Boy againe, and he strucke me and layd mee for dead.
_Mil._ Till I wondring at his stay, went out and found him in the Trance; since which time, he has beene haunted and frighted with Goblins, 40 times; and never durst tell any thing (as I sayd) because the Hags had so threatned him till in his sicknes he revealed it to his mother.
_Dough._ And she told no body but folkes on't. Well Gossip Gretty, as thou art a Miller, and a close thiefe, now let us keepe it as close as we may till we take 'hem, and see them handsomly hanged o'the way: Ha my little Cuffe-divell, thou art a made man. Come, away with me.
_Exeunt._"
Heywood and Broome's _Late Lancashire Witches_, Acts 2 and 3.]
[Footnote D: _Sic in orig._]
[Footnote 57: These names are thus given in Baines's Transcript:--
"Dickensons Henrie Priestleyes wife and his ladd Alice Hargrave, widdowe Jane Davies (als. Jennet Device) William Davies The wife of Henrie Offep and her sonnes John and Myles The wife of Duckers James Hargrave of Maresden Loyards wife James wife Sanders wife, And as hee beleeveth Lawnes wife Sander Pynes wife of Baraford One Foolegate and his wife And Leonards of the West Close."
And thus in Webster:--
"Dickensons Wife, Henry Priestleys Wife, and his Lad, Alice Hargreene Widow, Jane Davies, William Davies, and the Wife of Henry Fackes, and her Sons John and Miles, the Wife of ---- Denneries, James Hargreene of Marsdead, Loynd's Wife, one James his Wife, Saunders his Wife, and Saunders himself _sicut credit_, one Laurence his Wife, one Saunder Pyn's Wife of Barraford, one Holgate and his Wife of Leonards of the West close."]
"_Edmund Robinson_ of _Pendle_, father of ye sd _Edmunde Robinson_, the aforesaid informer, upon oath saith, that upon _All Saints' Day_, he sent his sone, the aforesed informer, to fetch home two kyne to seale, and saith yt hee thought his sone stayed longer than he should have done, went to seeke him, and in seekinge him, heard him cry very pittifully, and found him soe afraid and distracted, yt hee neither knew his father, nor did know where he was, and so continued very neare a quarter of an hower before he came to himselfe,[58] and he tould this informer, his father, all the particular passages yt are before declared in the said _Edmund Robinson_, his sone's information."
[Footnote 58: The learned "practitioner in physick," Mr. William Drage, in his "Treatise of Diseases from Witchcraft," published Lond. 1668, 4to. p. 22, recommends "birch" in such cases, "as a specifical medicine, antipathetical to demons." One can only lament that this valuable remedy was not vigorously applied in the present instance, as well as in most others in which these juvenile sufferers appear. I doubt whether, in the whole Materia Medica, a more powerful _Lamia-fuge_ could have been discovered, or one which would have been more universally successful, if applied perseveringly, whenever the suspicious symptoms recurred. The following is, however, Drage's great panacea in these cases, a mode of treatment which must have been vastly popular, judging from its extensive adoption in all parts of the country: "_Punish the witch, threaten to hang her if she helps not the sick, scratch her and fetch blood. When she is cast into prison the sick are some time delivered, some time he or she (they are most females, most old women, and most poor,) must transfer the disease to other persons, sometimes to a dog, or horse, or cow, &c. Threaten her and beat her to remove it._"--Drage, p. 23.]
The name of Margaret Johnson does not appear in Edmund Robinson's examination. Whether accused or not, the opportunity was too alluring to be lost by a personage full of matter, being like old Mause Headrigg, "as a bottle that lacketh vent," and too desirous of notoriety, to let slip such an occasion. She made, on the 2nd of March following, before the same justices who had taken Robinson's examination, the following confession, which must have been considered a most instructive one by those who were in search of some short _vade mecum_ of the statistics of witchcraft in Pendle:--
"THE CONFESSION OF MARGARET JOHNSON.
"That betwixt seaven and eight yeares since, shee beeinge in her owne house in _Marsden_, in a greate passion of anger and discontent, and withall pressed with some want, there appeared unto her a spirit or devill in ye proportion or similitude of a man, apparrelled in a suite of blacke, tyed about with silk points, who offered yt if shee would give him her soule hee would supply all her wants, and bringe to her whatsoever shee did neede. And at her appointment would in revenge either kill or hurt whom or what shee desyred, weare it man or beast. And saith, yt after a solicitation or two shee contracted and covenanted with ye said devill for her soule. And yt ye said devill or spirit badde her call him by the name of _Mamilian_. And when shee would have him to doe any thinge for her, call in _Mamilian_, and hee would bee ready to doe her will. And saith, yt in all her talke or conference shee calleth her said devill, _Mamil_ my God. Shee further saith, yt ye said _Mamilian_, her devill, (by her consent) did abuse and defile her body by comittinge wicked uncleannesse together. And saith, yt shee was not at the greate meetings at _Hoarestones_, at the forest of _Pendle_, upon All-Saints Day, where ----. But saith yt shee was at a second meetinge ye Sunday next after All-Saints Day, at the place aforesaid; where there was at yt tyme between 30 and 40 witches, who did all ride to the said meetinge, and the end of theire said meeting was to consult for the killinge and hurtinge of men and beasts. And yt besides theire particular familiars or spirits, there was one greate or grand devill or spirit more eminent than the rest. And if any desyre to have a greate and more wonderfull devill, whereby they may have more power to hurt, they may have one such. And sayth, yt such witches as have sharp bones given them by the devill to pricke them, have no pappes or dugges whereon theire devill may sucke, but theire devill receiveth bloud from the place, pricked with the bone. And they are more grand witches than any yt have marks. Shee allsoe saith, yt if a witch have but one marke, shee hath but one spirit, if two then two spirits, if three yet but two spirits. And saith, yt theire spirits usually have knowledge of theire bodies. And being desyred to name such as shee knewe to be witches, shee named, &c.[59] And if they would torment a man, they bid theire spirit goe and tormt. him in any particular place. And yt Good-Friday is one constant day for a yearely generall meetinge of witches. And yt on Good-Friday last, they had a meetinge neare _Pendle_ water syde. Shee alsoe saith, that men witches usually have women spirits, and women witches men spirits. And theire devill or spirit gives them notice of theire meetinge, and tells them the place where it must bee. And saith, if they desyre to be in any place upon a sodaine, theire devill or spirit will upon a rodde, dogge, or any thinge els, presently convey them thither: yea, into any roome of a man's house. But shee saith it is not the substance of theire bodies, but theire spirit assumeth such form and shape as goe into such roomes. Shee alsoe saith, yt ye devill (after he begins to sucke) will make a pappe or dugge in a short tyme, and the matter which hee sucks is blood. And saith yt theire devills can cause foule weather and storms, and soe did at theire meetings. Shee alsoe saith yt when her devill did come to sucke her pappe, hee usually came to her in ye liknes of a cat, sometymes of one colour and sometymes of an other. And yt since this trouble befell her, her spirit hath left her, and shee never sawe him since."
[Footnote 59: The omission here is thus supplied in Baines's Transcript; but the actual names are scarcely to be recognised, from the clerical errors of the copy:--
"One Pickerne and his wife both of Wyndwall, Rawson of Clore and his wife Duffice wife of Clore by the water side Cartmell the wife of Clore And Jane of the hedgend in Maresden."]
On the evidence contained in these examinations several persons were committed for trial at Lancaster, and seventeen, on being tried at the ensuing assizes, were found guilty by the jury. The judge before whom the trial took place was, however, more sagacious and enlightened than his predecessors, Bromley and Altham. He respited the execution of the prisoners; and on the case being reported to the king in council, the Bishop of Chester, Dr. Bridgman, was required to investigate the circumstances. The inquiry was instituted at Chester, and four of the convicted witches, namely, Margaret Johnson, Frances Dickonson, Mary Spencer, and the wife of one of the Hargreaves's, were sent to London, and examined, first by the king's physicians and surgeons, and afterwards by Charles the first in person.
"A stranger scene" to quote Dr. Whitaker's concluding paragraph "can scarcely be conceived; and it is not easy to imagine whether the untaught manners, rude dialect, and uncouth appearance of these poor foresters, would more astonish the king; or his dignity of person and manners, together with the splendid scene with which they were surrounded, would overwhelm them. The end, however, of the business was, that strong presumptions appeared of the boy having been suborned to accuse them falsely, and they were accordingly dismissed. The boy afterwards confessed that he was suborned."[60]
[Footnote 60: Webster gives the sequel of this curious case of imposture:--"Four of them, to wit Margaret Johnson, Francis Dicconson, Mary Spenser, and Hargraves Wife, were sent for up to London, and were viewed and examined by his Majesties Physicians and Chirurgeons, and after by his Majesty and the Council, and no cause of guilt appearing but great presumptions of the boys being suborned to accuse them falsely. Therefore it was resolved to separate the boy from his Father, they having both followed the women up to London, they were both taken and put into several prisons asunder. Whereupon shortly after the Boy confessed that he was taught and suborned to devise, and feign those things against them, and had persevered in that wickedness by the counsel of his Father, and some others, whom envy, revenge and hope of gain had prompted on to that devillish design and villany; and he also confessed, that upon that day when he said that they met at the aforesaid house or barn, he was that very day a mile off, getting Plums in his Neighbours Orchard. And that this is a most certain truth, there are many persons yet living, of sufficient reputation and integrity, that can avouch and testifie the same; and besides, what I write is the most of it true, upon my own knowledge, and the whole I have had from his own mouth."--_Displaying of Witchcraft_, p. 277.]
In Dr. Whitaker's astonishment that Margaret Johnson should make the confession she appears to have done, in a clear case of imposture, few of his readers will be disposed to participate, who are at all conversant with the trials of reputed witches in this country. Confessions were so common on those occasions, that there is, I believe, not a single instance of any great number of persons being convicted of witchcraft at one time, some of whom did not make a confession of guilt. Nor is there anything extraordinary in that circumstance, when it is remembered that many of them sincerely believed in the existence of the powers attributed to them; and others, aged and of weak understanding, were, in a measure, coerced by the strong persuasion of their guilt, which all around them manifested, into an acquiescence in the truth of the accusation. In many cases the confessions were made in the hope, and no doubt with the promise, seldom performed, that a respite from punishment would be eventually granted. In other instances, there is as little doubt, that they were the final results of irritation, agony, and despair.[61] The confessions are generally composed of "such stuff as dreams are made of," and what they report to have occurred, might either proceed, when there was no intention to fabricate, from intertwining the fantastic threads which sometimes stream upon the waking senses from the land of shadows, or be caused by those ocular hallucinations of which medical science has supplied full and satisfactory solution. There is no argument which so long maintained its ground in support of witchcraft as that which was founded on the confessions referred to. It was the last plank clung to by many a witch-believing lawyer and divine. And yet there is none which will less bear critical scrutiny and examination, or the fallacy of which can more easily be shown, if any particular reported confession is taken as a test and subjected to a searching analysis and inquiry.
[Footnote 61: The confession in the "Amber Witch" is a true picture, drawn from the life. What is there, indeed, unlike truth in that wonderful fiction?]
It is said that we owe to the grave and saturnine Monarch, who extended his pardon to the seventeen convicted in 1633, that happy generalisation of the term, which appropriates honourably to the sex in Lancashire the designation denoting the fancied crime of a few miserable victims of superstition. That gentle sex will never repudiate a title bestowed by one, little given to the playful sports of fancy, whose sorrows and unhappy fate have never wanted their commiseration, and who distinguished himself on this memorable occasion, at a period when
"'twas the time's plague
That madmen led the blind,"
--in days when philosophy stumbled and murder arrayed itself in the robes of justice--by an enlightened exercise of the kingly prerogative of mercy. Proceeding from such a fountain of honour, and purified by such an appropriation, the title of witch has long lost its original opprobrium in the County Palatine, and survives only to call forth the gayest and most delightful associations. In process of time even the term _witchfinder_ may lose the stains which have adhered to it from the atrocities of Hopkins, and may be adopted by general usage, as a sort of companion phrase, to signify the fortunate individual, who, by an union with a Lancashire witch, has just asserted his indefeasible title to be considered as the happiest of men.
J.C.
THE WONDERFVLL DISCOVERIE OF WITCHES, &c.
THE WONDERFVLL DISCOVERIE OF WITCHES IN THE COVNTIE OF LANCASTER.
With the Arraignement and Triall of Nineteene notorious WITCHES, at the Assizes and generall Gaole deliuerie, holden at the Castle of LANCASTER, _vpon Munday, the seuenteenth_ _of August last_, 1612.
Before Sir IAMES ALTHAM, and Sir EDWARD BROMLEY, Knights; BARONS of his Maiesties Court of EXCHEQVER: And Iustices _of Assize_, Oyer _and_ Terminor, _and generall_ Gaole deliuerie in the circuit of the _North Parts._
Together with the Arraignement and Triall of IENNET PRESTON, _at the Assizes holden at the Castle of Yorke_, _the seuen and twentieth day of Iulie last past_, with her Execution for the murther of Master LISTER _by Witchcraft._
Published and set forth by commandement of his Maiesties Iustices of Assize in the North Parts.
_By_ THOMAS POTTS _Esquier._
* * * * *
LONDON, Printed by _W. Stansby_ for _John Barnes_, dwelling neare Holborne Conduit. 1613.
TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE, _THOMAS_, LORD KNYVET, BARON OF ESCRICK[A1] in the Countie of Yorke, my very honorable _good Lord and Master._
AND TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE _AND VERTVOVS LADIE, THE_ _Ladie_ ELIZABETH KNYVET _his Wife, my_ honorable good Ladie and MISTRIS.
* * * * *
RIGHT HONORABLE,
_Let it stand (I beseech you) with your fauours whom profession of the same true Religion towards God, and so great loue hath vnited together in one, Jointly to accept the Protection and Patronage of these my labours, which not their owne worth hath encouraged, but your Worthinesse hath enforced me to consecrate vnto your Honours._
_To you (Right Honourable my very good Lord) of Right doe they belong: for to whom shall I rather present their first fruits of my learning then to your Lordship: who nourished then both mee and them, when there was scarce any being to mee or them? And whose iust and vpright carriage of causes, whose zeale to Justice and Honourable curtesie to all men, have purchased you a Reuerend and worthie Respect of all men in all partes of this Kingdome, where you are knowne. And to your good Ladiship they doe of great right belong likewise; Whose Religion, Iustice, and Honourable admittance of my Vnworthie Seruice to your Ladiship do challenge at my handes the vttermost of what euer I may bee able to performe._
_Here is nothing of my own act worthie to bee commended to your Honours, it is the worke, of those Reuerend Magistrates, His Maiesties Iustices of Assizes in the North partes, and no more then a Particular Declaration of the proceedings of Iustice in those partes. Here shall you behold the Iustice of this Land, truely administred_, PROEMIUM & POENAM, _Mercie and Iudgement, freely and indifferently bestowed and inflicted; And aboue all thinges to bee remembred, the excellent care of these Iudges in the Triall of offendors._
_It hath pleased them out of their respect to mee to impose this worke vpon mee, and according to my vnderstanding, I haue taken paines to finish, and now confirmed by their Iudgement to publish the same, for the benefit of my Countrie. That the example of these conuicted vpon their owne Examinations, Confessions, and Euidence at the Barre, may worke good in others, Rather by with-holding them from, then imboldening them to, the Atchieuing such desperate actes as these or the like._
_These are some part of the fruits of my time spent in the Seruice of my Countrie, Since by your Graue and Reuerend Counsell (my Good Lord) I reduced my wauering and wandring thoughts to a more quiet harbour of repose._
_If it please your Honours to giue them your Honourable respect, the world may iudge them the more worthie of acceptance, to whose various censures they are now exposed._
_God of Heauen whose eies are on them that feare him, to bee their Protector and guide, behold your Honours with the eye of fauor, be euermore your strong hold, and your great reward, and blesse you with blessings in this life, Externall and Internall, Temporall and Spirituall, and with Eternall happines in the World to come: to which I commend your Honours; And rest both now and euer, From my Lodging in Chancerie Lane, the sixteenth of Nouember 1612._
Your Honours
humbly deuoted
Seruant,
_Thomas Potts._
* * * * *
Vpon the Arraignement and triall of these Witches at the last Assizes and Generall Gaole-deliuerie, holden at Lancaster, wee found such apparent matters against them, that we thought it necessarie to publish them to the World, and thereupon imposed the labour of this Worke vpon this Gentleman, by reason of his place, being a Clerke at that time in Court, imploied in the Arraignement and triall of them.
_Ja. Altham._
_Edw. Bromley._[A2]
* * * * *
_After he had taken great paines to finish it, I tooke vpon mee to reuise and correct it, that nothing might passe but matter of Fact, apparant against them by record. It is very little he hath inserted, and that necessarie, to shew what their offences were, what people, and of what condition they were: The whole proceedings and Euidence against them, I finde vpon examination carefully set forth, and truely reported, and iudge the worke fit and worthie to be published._
Edward Bromley.[A3]
* * * * *
Gentle Reader, although the care of this Gentleman the
Author, was great to examine and publish this his worke
perfect according to the Honorable testimonie of the Iudges,
yet some faults are committed by me in the Printing, and yet
not many, being a worke done in such great haste, at the end
of a Tearme, which I pray you, with your fauour to excuse.
* * * * *
A particular Declaration of the most barberous and damnable Practises, Murthers, wicked and diuelish Conspiracies, practized _and executed by the most dangerous and malitious_ Witch _Elizabeth Sowthernes_ alias _Demdike_, of the Forrest of _Pendle_ in the Countie of _Lancaster_ Widdow, who died in the Castle at _Lancaster_ before she came to receiue her tryall.
Though publique iustice hath passed at these Assises vpon the Capitall offendours, and after the Arraignement & tryall of them, Iudgement being giuen, due and timely Execution succeeded; which doth import and giue the greatest satisfaction that can be, to all men; yet because vpon the caryage, and euent of this businesse, the Eyes of all the partes of _Lancashire_, and other Counties in the North partes thereunto adioyning were bent: And so infinite a multitude came to the Arraignement & tryall of these Witches at _Lancaster_, the number of them being knowen to exceed all others at any time heretofore, at one time to be indicted, arraigned, and receiue their tryall,[B_a_] especially for so many Murders, Conspiracies, Charmes, Meetinges, hellish and damnable practises, so apparant vpon their owne examinations & confessions. These my honourable & worthy Lords, the Iudges of Assise, vpon great consideration, thought it necessarie & profitable, to publish to the whole world, their most barbarous and damnable practises, with the direct proceedinges of the Court against them, aswell for that there doe passe diuers vncertaine reportes and relations of such Euidences, as was publiquely giuen against them at their Arraignement. As for that diuers came to prosecute against many of them that were not found guiltie, and so rest very discontented, and not satisfied. As also for that it is necessary for men to know and vnderstande the meanes whereby they worke their mischiefe, the hidden misteries of their diuelish and wicked Inchauntmentes, Charmes, and Sorceries, the better to preuent and auoyde the danger that may ensue. And lastly, who were the principall authors and actors in this late woefull and lamentable _Tragedie_, wherein so much Blood was spilt.
Therefore I pray you giue me leaue, (with your patience and fauour,) before I proceed to the Indictment, Arraignement, and Tryall of such as were prisoners in the Castle, to lay open the life and death of this damnable and malicious Witch, of so long continuance (old _Demdike_) of whom our whole businesse hath such dependence, that without the particular Declaration and Record of her Euidence, with the circumstaunces, wee shall neuer bring any thing to good perfection: for from this Sincke of villanie and mischiefe, haue all the rest proceeded; as you shall haue them in order.
She was a very old woman, about the age of Fourescore[B_b_] yeares, and had been a Witch for fiftie yeares. Shee dwelt in the Forrest of _Pendle_, a vaste place, fitte for her profession: What shee committed in her time, no man knowes.
Thus liued shee securely for many yeares, brought vp her owne Children, instructed her Graund-children, and tooke great care and paines to bring them to be Witches. Shee was a generall agent for the Deuill in all these partes: no man escaped her, or her Furies, that euer gaue them any occasion of offence, or denyed them any thing they stood need of: And certaine it is, no man neere them, was secure or free from danger.
But God, who had in his diuine prouidence prouided to cut them off, and roote them out of the Commonwealth, so disposed aboue, that the Iustices of those partes, vnderstanding by a generall charme and muttering, the great and vniuersall resort to _Maulking Tower_, the common opinion, with the report of these suspected people, the complaint of the Kinges subiectes for the losse of their Children, Friendes, Goodes, and Cattle, (as there could not be so great Fire without some Smoake,) sent for some of the Countrey, and tooke great paynes to enquire after their proceedinges, and courses of life.
In the end, _Roger Nowell_ Esquire,[B2_a_] one of his Maiesties Iustices in these partes, a very religious honest Gentleman, painefull in the seruice of his Countrey: whose fame for this great seruice to his Countrey, shall liue after him, tooke vpon him to enter into the particular examination of these suspected persons: And to the honour of God, and the great comfort of all his Countrey, made such a discouery of them in order, as the like hath not been heard of: which for your better satisfaction, I haue heere placed in order against her, as they are vpon Record, amongst the Recordes of the _Crowne_ at _Lancaster_, certified by M. _Nowell_, and others.
The voluntarie Confession and Examination of _Elizabeth Sowtherns_ alias _Demdike_, taken at the Fence in the Forrest of _Pendle_ in the Countie of _Lancaster._
The second day of Aprill, _Annoq; Regni Regis Iacobi Anggliæ, &c. Decimo, et Scotiæ, Quadragesimo quinto;_ Before _Roger Nowell_ of _Reade_ Esquire, one of his Maiesties Iustices of the peace within the sayd Countie, _Viz._
The said _Elizabeth Sowtherns_ confesseth, and sayth; That about twentie yeares past, as she was comming homeward from begging, there met her this Examinate neere vnto a Stonepit in _Gouldshey_,[B2_b_1] in the sayd Forrest of _Pendle_, a Spirit or Deuill in the shape of a Boy, the one halfe of his Coate blacke, and the other browne, who bade this Examinate stay, saying to her, that if she would giue him her Soule, she should haue any thing that she would request. Wherevpon this Examinat demaunded his name? and the Spirit answered, his name was _Tibb_:[B2_b_2] and so this Examinate in hope of such gaine as was promised by the sayd Deuill or _Tibb_, was contented to giue her Soule to the said Spirit: And for the space of fiue or sixe yeares next after, the sayd Spirit or Deuill appeared at sundry times vnto her this Examinate about _Day-light_ Gate,[B2_b_3] alwayes bidding her stay, and asking her this Examinate what she would haue or doe? To whom this Examinate replyed, Nay nothing: for she this Examinate said, she wanted nothing yet. And so about the end of the said sixe yeares, vpon a Sabboth day in the morning, this Examinate hauing a litle Child vpon her knee, and she being in a slumber, the sayd Spirit appeared vnto her in the likenes of a browne Dogg, forcing himselfe to her knee, to get blood vnder her left Arme: and she being without any apparrell sauing her Smocke, the said Deuill did get blood vnder her left arme.[B3_a_1] And this Examinate awaking, sayd, _Iesus saue my Child_; but had no power, nor could not say, _Iesus saue her selfe_: wherevpon the Browne Dogge vanished out of this Examinats sight: after which, this Examinate was almost starke madd for the space of eight weekes.
And vpon her examination, she further confesseth, and saith. That a little before Christmas last, this Examinates Daughter hauing been to helpe _Richard Baldwyns_ Folkes at the Mill: This Examinates Daughter did bid her this Examinate goe to the sayd _Baldwyns_ house, and aske him some thing for her helping of his Folkes at the Mill, (as aforesaid:) and in this Examinates going to the said _Baldwyns_ house, and neere to the sayd house, she mette with the said _Richard Baldwyn_; Which _Baldwyn_ sayd to this Examinate, and the said _Alizon Deuice_[B3_a_3] (who at that time ledde this Examinate, being blinde) get out of my ground Whores and Witches, I will burne the one of you, and hang the other.[B3_a_2] To whom this Examinate answered: I care not for thee, hang thy selfe: Presently wherevpon, at this Examinates going ouer the next hedge, the said Spirit or Diuell called _Tibb_, appeared vnto this Examinat, and sayd, _Reuenge thee of him_. To whom, this Examinate sayd againe to the said Spirit. _Revenge thee eyther of him, or his._ And so the said Spirit vanished out of her sight, and she neuer saw him since.
And further this Examinate confesseth, and sayth, that the speediest way to take a mans life away by Witchcraft, is to make a Picture of Clay,[B3_b_] like vnto the shape of the person whom they meane to kill, & dry it thorowly: and when they would haue them to be ill in any one place more then an other; then take a Thorne or Pinne, and pricke it in that part of the Picture you would so haue to be ill: and when you would haue any part of the Body to consume away, then take that part of the Picture, and burne it. And when they would haue the whole body to consume away, then take the remnant of the sayd Picture, and burne it: and so therevpon by that meanes, the body shall die.
* * * * *
The Confession and Examination of Anne Whittle _alias_ Chattox, being Prisoner at _Lancaster_; taken the 19 day of May, _Annoq; Regni Regis Iacobi Angliæ, Decimo: ac Scotie Quadragesimo quinto_; Before _William Sandes_ Maior of the Borrough towne of _Lancaster._
_Iames Anderton_ of _Clayton_, one of his Maiesties Iustices of Peace within the same County, and _Thomas Cowell_ one of his Maiesties Coroners in the sayd Countie of Lancaster, _Viz._
First, the sayd _Anne Whittle_, alias _Chattox_, sayth, that about foureteene yeares past she entered, through the wicked perswasions and counsell of _Elizabeth Southerns_, alias _Demdike_, and was seduced to condescend & agree to become subiect vnto that diuelish abhominable profession of Witchcraft: Soone after which, the Deuill appeared vnto her in the liknes of a Man, about midnight, at the house of the sayd _Demdike_: and therevpon the sayd _Demdike_ and shee, went foorth of the said house vnto him; wherevpon the said wicked Spirit mooued this Examinate, that she would become his Subiect, and giue her Soule vnto him: the which at first, she refused to assent vnto; but after, by the great perswasions made by the sayd _Demdike_, shee yeelded to be at his commaundement and appoyntment: wherevpon the sayd wicked Spirit then sayd vnto her, that hee must haue one part of her body for him to sucke vpon; the which shee denyed then to graunt vnto him; and withall asked him, what part of her body hee would haue for that vse; who said, hee would haue a place of her right side neere to her ribbes, for him to sucke vpon: whereunto shee assented.
And she further sayth, that at the same time, there was a thing in the likenes of a spotted Bitch, that came with the sayd Spirit vnto the sayd _Demdike_, which then did speake vnto her in this Examinates hearing, and sayd, that she should haue Gould, Siluer, and worldly Wealth, at her will.[B4_b_1] And at the same time she saith, there was victuals, _viz._ Flesh, Butter, Cheese, Bread, and Drinke, and bidde them eate enough. And after their eating, the Deuill called _Fancie_, and the other Spirit calling himselfe _Tibbe_, carried the remnant away: And she sayeth, that although they did eate, they were neuer the fuller, nor better for the same; and that at their said Banquet, the said Spirits gaue them light to see what they did, although they neyther had fire nor Candle light; and that they were both shee Spirites, and Diuels.
And being further examined how many sundry Person haue been bewitched to death, and by whom they were so bewitched: She sayth, that one _Robert Nuter_, late of the _Greene-head_ in _Pendle_, was bewitched by this Examinate, the said _Demdike_, and Widdow _Lomshawe_, (late of _Burneley_) now deceased.
And she further sayth, that the said _Demdike_ shewed her, that she had bewitched to death, _Richard Ashton_, Sonne of _Richard Ashton_ of _Downeham_ Esquire.[B4_b_2]
* * * * *
The Examination of Alizon Deuice, of the Forrest of Pendle, in the County of _Lancaster_ Spinster, taken at _Reade_ in the said Countie of _Lancaster_, the xiij. day of March, _Anno Regni Jacobi Angliæ, &c._ _Nono: et Scotiæ xlv._
Before _Roger Nowell_ of _Reade_ aforesayd Esquire, one of his Maiesties Iustices of the Peace within the sayd Countie, against _Elizabeth Sowtherns_, alias _Demdike_ her Graund-mother. _Viz._
Comments
Log in to leave a comment.
Discovery of WitchesChapter III: Part 3
0%37 min left in chapter