George Giffard, "minister of God's word in Maldon," put forth a little
book in 1603, containing a number of witch stories and anecdotes, without
names, dates, or places, yet written in a manner and style evidently
proving their reliability, and all seeming to have come within his own
personal knowledge as believed in by others. One, whom he knew, under the
assumed name of one of his characters was constantly troubled by a hare,
which his conscience accused him was a witch "she stared at him so;" and
sometimes an ugly weasel would run through his yard; and sometimes a foul
big cat sit upon his barn, for which he had no manner of liking; and an
old woman of the place, whom he had been as careful to please as if she
had been his mother, still frowned upon him to his exceeding discomfort;
and a hog which overnight had eaten his meat with his fellows, quite
hearty and well, in the morning was stark dead; and five or six hens died
too, in a manner no one could understand, save by the power of witchcraft.
And once another of his friends went to a cunning man who lived twenty
miles off, complaining of his farm-yard losses: so the cunning man took a
glass, and bidding him look in it, showed him a certain suspected witch
therein, telling him that she had three or four imps, "some call them
puckrels," one of which was like a gray cat, another like a weasel, a
third like a mouse. There was also another cunning person--a woman--to
whom a father took a child that had long been lame and pained. The woman
told the man he had an ill neighbour, and that the child was forespoken.
"Marie, if he would go home and bring her some of the clothes which the
child lay in all night, she would tell him certainely." The father went
home and did as he was bid, when the wise woman informed him that the girl
was bewitched, counselled him what to do, and the "girle is well at this
day, and a pretie quicke girle," says George Giffard, with a sneer at his
neighbour's easy faith. Another had his wife much troubled; so he, too,
went off to a wise woman, who told him that his wife was haunted by a
fairy. As a counter-charm she was bidden to wear a part of St. John's
Gospel ever about her, against which the fairies could not stand, so fled.
Another good wife could not make her butter come: it was bewitched, and
for a whole week obstinately disregarded the laws of butter nature:
wherefore they heated a spit, red hot, and thrust it into the cream--and
it came at once. The next morning the good wife met the suspected
witch--"the old filth," she calls her with more emphasis than euphony.
"Lord, how sowerly she looked upon me, and mumbled as she went! Ah, quoth
she, you have an honest man to your husband. I hear how he doth use me!"
The wife longed to scratch the witch, her stomach rose so against her, but
she was afraid she would prove the stronger, for she was "a lustie old
quean," and let her pass unmolested.
In a certain village a wealthy man was suddenly reduced to comparative
poverty by extraordinary losses in his farm; he himself fell ill, and his
child of seven years of age sickened and died. He sent to the same wise
woman at R. H., who told him that he was bewitched, and moreover, that
there were three witches and one wizard in the town where he lived. The
forespoken farmer caused the one whom he most suspected to be seized and
examined, who at last confessed, after making "much ado," and taking up
the time of the worshipful justice to no good. She said that she had three
imps, a cat Lightfoot, a toad Lunch, a weasel Makeshift. Lightfoot had
been given to her sixteen years ago, by one Mother Barlie of W. in return
for an oven cake; the toad and the weasel came of their own accord and
offered their services gratuitously. The cat killed kine, the weasel
killed horses, and the toad plagued men; so the poor old creature was sent
to the county gaol, where she died before the assizes. Another woman, old
Mother W. of Great T., had an imp like a weasel. "She was offended highly
with one H. M.; home she went, and called forth her spirit, which lay in a
pot of woole under her bed: she willed him to go plague the man: he
inquired what she would give him, and he would kill H. M. She said she
would give him a cocke, which she did, and he went, and the man fell sicke
with a greate paine in his belly, languished and died; the witch was
arraigned, condemned, and hanged, and did confesse all this."
Seven miles hence, at W. B., a man in good health suddenly fell sick,
pined for half a year, and then died. His wife, suspecting evil doings,
went to a cunning woman, who showed her in a glass the likeness of the
witch who had destroyed him, wearing an old red cap with corners, such as
women were used to wear. The old red-capped woman was taken, tried, soon
brought to confess to the bewitching of the man, and executed. But before
she died she told them all, how that she had a spirit in the likeness of a
yellow dun cat, which came to her one night as she sat by the fire nursing
angry thoughts against a neighbour with whom she had fallen out. She was
frightened, she said, but the cat bid her not be afraid, for it had served
an old dame, that was now dead, for five years down in Kent, and would
serve her now, an she would. The woman took the cat at its word, and by it
killed many a cow and hog of those who angered her: at last she sent it to
this man, and the cat killed him. She was hanged, and the yellow dun imp
was never more seen.
Mr. Giffard knew a church which had been robbed of its communion service:
a wise man told the churchwardens what to do and the thief would surely
ride in all haste to confess. As it proved. Another case was that of a
child taken piteously ill. Under the cunning man's advice the father burnt
its clothes, and while they were burning, the witch came running in,
grievously pained. The child was well within two days. A butcher had a
son, John, terribly afflicted with sores. Salves and plasters would not
heal him; but when a cunning man showed him in a glass the form of the
witch who had laid this harmful thing upon him, and they had cut off some
of the boy's hair and burnt it, the old woman came to the house in all
speed, crying, "John, John, scratch me!" So John scratched her till the
blood came, and his sores all healed of themselves, without salve or
plaster helping. A woman had blear eyes that were watery; a knave lodging
at the house wrote a charm which she was always to wear about her neck,
and never lose or look at. She wore her charm, and her eyes got quite
well; but one day, prompted by Eve's sin, she opened the packet, and found
a piece of paper on which was written, in the German tongue, "The devil
plucke out thine eyes and fill their holes with dirt." Terrified at the
unholy nature of her cure, the woman flung the charm away, and her eyes
immediately became bleared and watery as before.[110] A woman suspected of
witchcraft was taken in hand by a gentleman, who undertook to induce her
to confess. She was very stiff about the matter, and denied all dealings
with the devil in any way. Suddenly, at some distance from them, appeared
a weasel or a lobster, looking straight at them. "Look!" said the
gentleman, "yonder same is thy spirit!" "Oh, master," said she, "that is a
vermine. There be many of them everywhere." But as they went towards it,
the weasel or lobster vanished clean out of sight. "Surely," said the
gentleman, "it is thy spirit." But still she denied, "and with that her
mouth was drawn all awrie." When a little further pressed she allowed all,
and the gentleman, being no justice, sent her home, exhorting her to go to
a magistrate and ease her soul by confession. As she got home she was met
by another witch who came violently enraged against her. "Ah, thou beast!
what hast thou done? thou hast bewrayed us all!" she said. "What remedy
now?" said she. "What remedy?" saith the other, "send thy spirit and touch
him." At that moment the gentleman felt, as it were, a flash of fire about
him; but he lifted his hat and prayed, and the spirit came back and said
it could do him no hurt, because he had faith. So then they sent it
against his child, and the child was taken ill with great pain and died.
The witches confessed and were hanged. Another witch had her spirit hidden
in the boll of a tree; and there she held long conversations with this
ghastly Ariel, he answering in a hollow ghoustie voice, as might be
expected. When any offended her, she would go to the tree and release her
imp to do them harm. She had killed many hogs, horses, and the like by
this spirit; but at last justice got hold of her with its mailed hand and
killed her. Another friend of Giffard's, also under the disguise of one of
his characters, was twice on a jury, when certain old women were charged
with harming their neighbours' goods and lives. There was no proof in
either case, and the old women protested their innocence passionately; but
the jury brought them in guilty, which was perfectly logical and right
according to their notions of the law of that God who suffers the devil to
torment the sons of men, and to delude old women into the possession of
unholy powers. What, indeed, could be done with them when, by a look or a
word, they could afflict even unto death the most beautiful of God's
creatures, and send the devil to inhabit the purest of souls? The mischief
lay in the fundamental creed, not so much in the application of it,
terrible and bloody as it was; and it is against this creed, that I would
most earnestly insist. It must be remembered, too, that Giffard writes
ironically, and brings together all these cases as evidence of the
foolishness and wickedness of the faith.