The busy period of the great Civil War was one in which the character
and genius of different parties were most brilliantly displayed, and,
accordingly, the incidents which took place on either side were of a
striking and extraordinary character, and afforded ample foundation for
fictitious composition. The author had in some measure attempted such
in Peveril of the Peak; but the scene was in a remote part of the
kingdom, and mingled with other national differences, which left him
still at liberty to glean another harvest out of so ample a store.
In these circumstances, some wonderful adventures which happened at
Woodstock in the year 1649, occurred to him as something he had long
ago read of, although he was unable to tell where, and of which the
hint appeared sufficient, although, doubtless, it might have been much
better handled if the author had not, in the lapse of time, lost every
thing like an accurate recollection of the real story.
It was not until about this period, namely, 1831, that the author,
being called upon to write this Introduction, obtained a general
account of what really happened upon the marvellous occasion in
question, in a work termed “The Every-day Book,” published by Mr. Hone,
and full of curious antiquarian research, the object being to give a
variety of original information concerning manners, illustrated by
curious instances, rarely to be found elsewhere. Among other matter,
Mr. Hone quotes an article from the British Magazine for 1747, in the
following words, and which is probably the document which the author of
Woodstock had formerly perused, although he was unable to refer to the
source of his information. The tract is entitled, “The Genuine History
of the good Devil of Woodstock, famous in the world, in the year 1649,
and never accounted for, or at all understood to this time.”
The teller of this “genuine history” proceeds verbatim as follows:
“Some original papers having lately fallen into my hands, under the
name of ‘Authentic Memoirs of the Memorable Joseph Collins of Oxford,
commonly known by the name of Funny Joe, and now intended for the
press,’ I was extremely delighted to find in them a circumstantial and
unquestionable account of the most famous of all invisible agents, so
well known in the year 1649, under the name of the Good Devil of
Woodstock, and even adored by the people of that place, for the
vexation and distress it occasioned some people they were not much
pleased with. As this famous story, though related by a thousand
people, and attested in all its circumstances, beyond all possibility
of doubt, by people of rank, learning, and reputation, of Oxford and
the adjacent towns, has never yet been generally accounted for, or at
all understood, and is perfectly explained, in a manner that can admit
of no doubt, in these papers, I could not refuse my readers the
pleasure it gave me in reading.”
There is, therefore, no doubt that, in the year 1649, a number of
incidents, supposed to be supernatural, took place at the King’s palace
of Woodstock, which the Commissioners of Parliament were then and there
endeavouring to dilapidate and destroy. The account of this by the
Commissioners themselves, or under their authority, was repeatedly
published, and, in particular, is inserted as relation sixth of Satan’s
Invisible World Discovered, by George Sinclair, Professor of Philosophy
in Glasgow, an approved collector of such tales.
It was the object of neither of the great political parties of that day
to discredit this narrative, which gave great satisfaction both to the
cavaliers and roundheads; the former conceiving that the license given
to the demons, was in consequence of the impious desecration of the
King’s furniture and apartments, so that the citizens of Woodstock
almost adored the supposed spirits, as avengers of the cause of
royalty; while the friends of the Parliament, on the other hand,
imputed to the malice of the fiend the obstruction of the pious work,
as they judged that which they had in hand.
At the risk of prolonging a curious quotation, I include a page or two
from Mr. Hone’s Every-day Book.
“The honourable the Commissioners arrived at Woodstock manor-house,
October 13th, and took up their residence in the King’s own rooms. His
Majesty’s bedchamber they made their kitchen, the council-hall their
pantry, and the presence-chamber was the place where they sat for
despatch of business. His Majesty’s dining-room they made their
wood-yard, and stowed it with no other wood but that of the famous
Royal Oak from the High Park, which, that nothing might be left with
the name of the King about it, they had dug up by the roots, and
bundled up into fagots for their firing.
“October 16. This day they first sat for the despatch of business. In
the midst of their first debate there entered a large black dog (as
they thought), which made a terrible howling, overturned two or three
of their chairs, and doing some other damage, went under the bed, and
there gnawed the cords. The door this while continued constantly shut,
when, after some two or three hours, Giles Sharp, their secretary,
looking under the bed, perceived that the creature was vanished, and
that a plate of meat that the servants had hid there was untouched, and
showing them to their honours, they were all convinced there could be
no real dog concerned in the case; the said Giles also deposed on oath,
that, to his certain knowledge, there was not.
“October 17. As they were this day sitting at dinner in a lower room,
they heard plainly the noise of persons walking over head, though they
well knew the doors were all locked, and there could be none there.
Presently after they heard also all the wood of the King’s Oak brought
by parcels from the dining-room, and thrown with great violence into
the presence-chamber, as also the chairs, stools, tables, and other
furniture, forcibly hurled about the room, their own papers of the
minutes of their transactions torn, and the ink-glass broken. When all
this had some time ceased, the said Giles proposed to enter first into
these rooms, and, in presence of the Commissioners, of whom he received
the key, he opened the door and entered the room, their honours
following him. He there found the wood strewed about the room, the
chairs tossed about and broken, the papers torn, and the ink-glass
broken over them all as they had heard, yet no footsteps appeared of
any person whatever being there, nor had the doors ever been opened to
admit or let out any person since their honours were last there. It was
therefore voted, _nem. con_., that the person who did this mischief
could have entered no other way than at the key-hole of the said doors.
“In the night following this same day, the said Giles, and two other of
the Commissioners’ servants, as they were in bed in the same room with
their honours, had their bed’s feet lifted up so much higher than their
heads, that they expected to have their necks broken, and then they
were let fall at once with such violence as shook them up from the bed
to a good distance; and this was repeated many times, their honours
being amazed spectators of it. In the morning the bedsteads were found
cracked and broken, and the said Giles and his fellows, declared they
were sore to the bones with the tossing and jolting of the beds.
“October 19. As they were all in bed together, the candles were all
blown out together with a sulphurous smell, and instantly many
trenchers of wood were hurled about the room; and one of them putting
his head above the clothes, had not less than six thrown at him, which
wounded him very grievously. In the morning the trenchers were all
found lying about the room, and were observed to be the same they had
eaten on the day before, none being found remaining in the pantry.
“October 20. This night the candles were put out as before; the
curtains of the bed in which their honours lay, were drawn to and fro
many times with great violence: their honours received many cruel
blows, and were much bruised beside, with eight great pewter dishes,
and three dozen wooden trenchers, which were thrown on the bed, and
afterwards heard rolling about the room.
“Many times also this night they heard the forcible falling of many
fagots by their bedside, but in the morning no fagots were found there,
no dishes or trenchers were there seen either; and the aforesaid Giles
attests, that by their different arranging in the pantry, they had
assuredly been taken thence, and after put there again.
“October 21. The keeper of their ordinary and his bitch lay with them:
This night they had no disturbance.
“October 22. Candles put out as before. They had the said bitch with
them again, but were not by that protected; the bitch set up a very
piteous cry; the clothes of their beds were all pulled off, and the
bricks, without any wind, were thrown off the chimney tops into the
midst.
“October 24. The candles put out as before. They thought all the wood
of the King’s Oak was violently thrown down by their bedsides; they
counted sixty-four fagots that fell with great violence, and some hit
and shook the bed,—but in the morning none were found there, nor the
door of the room opened in which the said fagots were.
“October 25. The candles put out as before. The curtains of the bed in
the drawing-room were many times forcibly drawn; the wood thrown out as
before; a terrible crack like thunder was heard; and one of the
servants, running to see if his master was not killed, found at his
return, three dozen trenchers laid smoothly upon his bed under the
quilt.
“October 26. The beds were shaken as before; the windows seemed all
broken to pieces, and glass fell in vast quantities all about the room.
In the morning they found the windows all whole, but the floor strewed
with broken glass, which they gathered and laid by.
“October 29. At midnight candles went out as before, something walked
majestically through the room and opened and shut the window; great
stones were thrown violently into the room, some whereof fell on the
beds, others on the floor; and about a quarter after one, a noise was
heard as of forty cannon discharged together, and again repeated at
about eight minutes’ distance. This alarmed and raised all the
neighbourhood, who, coming into their honours’ room, gathered up the
great stones, fourscore in number, many of them like common pebbles and
boulters, and laid them by, where they are to be seen to this day, at a
corner of the adjoining field. This noise, like the discharge of
cannon, was heard throughout the country for sixteen miles round.
During these noises, which were heard in both rooms together, both the
Commissioners and their servants gave one another over for lost, and
cried out for help; and Giles Sharp, snatching up a sword, had
well-nigh killed one of their honours, taking him for the spirit as he
came in his shirt into the room. While they were together, the noise
was continued, and part of the tiling of the house, and all the windows
of an upper room, were taken away with it.
“October 30. Something walked into the chamber, treading like a bear;
it walked many times about, then threw the warming-pan violently upon
the floor, and so bruised it, that it was spoiled. Vast quantities of
glass were now thrown about the room, and vast numbers of great stones
and horses’ bones were thrown in; these were all found in the morning,
and the floors, beds, and walls were all much damaged by the violence
they were thrown in.
“November 1. Candles were placed in all parts of the room, and a great
fire made. At midnight, the candles all yet burning, a noise like the
burst of a cannon was heard in the room, and the burning billets were
tossed all over the room and about the beds; and had not their honours
called in Giles and his fellows, the house had assuredly been burnt. An
hour after the candles went out, as usual, the clack of many cannon was
heard, and many pailfuls of green stinking water were thrown on their
honours in bed; great stones were also thrown in as before, the
bed-curtains and bedsteads torn and broken: the windows were now all
really broken, and the whole neighbourhood alarmed with the noises;
nay, the very rabbit-stealers that were abroad that night in the
warren, were so frightened at the dismal thundering, that they fled for
fear and left their ferrets behind them.
“One of their honours this night spoke, and in the name of God asked
what it was, and why it disturbed them so? No answer was given to this;
but the noise ceased for a while, when the spirit came again, and as
they all agreed, brought with it seven devils worse than itself. One of
the servants now lighted a large candle, and set it in the doorway
between the two chambers, to see what passed; and as he[1] watched it,
he plainly saw a hoof striking the candle and candlestick into the
middle of the room, and afterwards, making three scrapes over the snuff
of the candle, to scrape it out. Upon this, the same person was so bold
as to draw a sword; but he had scarce got it out, when he perceived
another invisible hand had hold of it too, and pulled with him for it,
and at last prevailing, struck him so violently on the head with the
pommel, that he fell down for dead with the blow. At this instant was
heard another burst like the discharge of the broadside of a ship of
war, and at about a minute or two’s distance each, no less than
nineteen more such: these shook the house so violently that they
expected every moment it would fall upon their heads. The neighbours on
this were all alarmed, and, running to the house, they all joined in
prayer and psalm-singing, during which the noise continued in the other
rooms, and the discharge of cannon without, though nobody was there.”
[1] Probably this part was also played by Sharp, who was the regular
ghost-seer of the party.
Dr. Plot concludes his relation of this memorable event[2] with
observing, that, though tricks have often been played in affairs of
this kind, many of these things are not reconcilable with juggling;
such as, 1st, The loud noises beyond the power of man to make, without
instruments which were not there; 2d, The tearing and breaking of the
beds; 3d, The throwing about the fire; 4th, The hoof treading out the
candle; and, 5th, The striving for the sword, and the blow the man
received from the pommel of it.
[2] In his Natural History of Oxfordshire.
To shew how great men are sometimes deceived, we may recur to a tract,
entitled “_The Secret History of the Good Devil of Woodstock_,” in
which we find it, under the author’s own hand, that he, Joseph Collins,
commonly called Funny Joe, was himself this very devil;—that, under the
feigned name of Giles Sharp, he hired himself as a servant to the
Commissioners;—that by the help of two friends—an unknown trapdoor in
the ceiling of the bedchamber, and a pound of common gunpowder—he
played all these extraordinary tricks by himself;—that his
fellow-servants, whom he had introduced on purpose to assist him, had
lifted up their own beds; and that the candles were contrived, by a
common trick of gunpowder, to be extinguished at a certain time.
The dog who began the farce was, as Joe swore, no dog at all, but truly
a bitch, who had shortly before whelped in that room, and made all this
disturbance in seeking for her puppies; and which, when she had served
his purpose, he (Joe Sharp, or Collins) let out, and then looked for.
The story of the hoof and sword he himself bore witness to, and was
never suspected as to the truth of them, though mere fictions. By the
trapdoor his friends let down stones, fagots, glass, water, etc., which
they either left there, or drew up again, as best suited his purpose;
and by this way let themselves in and out, without opening the doors,
or going through the keyholes, and all the noises, described, he
declares he made by placing quantities of white gunpowder over pieces
of burning charcoal, on plates of tin, which, as they melted, exploded
with a violent noise.
I am very happy in having an opportunity of setting history right about
these remarkable events, and would not have the reader disbelieve my
author’s account of them, from his naming either white gunpowder
exploding when melted, or his making the earth about the pot take fire
of its own accord; since, however improbable these accounts may appear
to some readers, and whatever secrets they might be in Joe’s time, they
are now well known in chemistry. As to the last, there needs only to
mix an equal quantity of iron filings, finely powdered, and powder of
pure brimstone, and make them into a paste with fair water. This paste,
when it hath lain together about twenty-six hours, will of itself take
fire, and burn all the sulphur away with a blue flame and a bad smell.
For the others, what he calls white gunpowder, is plainly the
thundering powder called by our chemists _pulvis fulminans_. It is
composed of three parts of saltpetre, two parts of pearl ashes or salt
of tartar, and one part of flower of brimstone, mixed together and beat
to a fine powder; a small quantity of this held on the point of a knife
over a candle, will not go off till it melt, and then it gives a report
like that of a pistol; and this he might easily dispose of in larger
quantities, so as to make it explode of itself, while he, the said Joe,
was with his masters.
Such is the explanation of the ghostly adventures of Woodstock, as
transferred by Mr. Hone from the pages of the old tract, termed the
Authentic Memoirs of the memorable Joseph Collins of Oxford, whose
courage and loyalty were the only wizards which conjured up those
strange and surprising apparitions and works of spirits, which passed
as so unquestionable in the eyes of the Parliamentary Commissioners, of
Dr. Plot, and other authors of credit. The _pulvis fulminans_, the
secret principle he made use of, is now known to every apothecary’s
apprentice.
If my memory be not treacherous, the actor of these wonders made use of
his skill in fireworks upon the following remarkable occasion. The
Commissioners had not, in their zeal for the public service, overlooked
their own private interests, and a deed was drawn up upon parchment,
recording the share and nature of the advantages which they privately
agreed to concede to each other; at the same time they were, it seems,
loath to intrust to any one of their number the keeping of a document
in which all were equally concerned.
They hid the written agreement within a flower-pot, in which a shrub
concealed it from the eyes of any chance spectator. But the rumour of
the apparitions having gone abroad, curiosity drew many of the
neighbours to Woodstock, and some in particular, to whom the knowledge
of this agreement would have afforded matter of scandel; as the
Commissioners received these guests in the saloon where the flower-pot
was placed, a match was suddenly set to some fireworks placed there by
Sharp the secretary. The flower-pot burst to pieces with the
concussion, or was prepared so as to explode of itself, and the
contract of the Commissioners, bearing testimony to their private
roguery, was thrown into the midst of the visiters assembled. If I have
recollected this incident accurately, for it is more than forty years
since I perused the tract, it is probable, that in omitting it from the
novel, I may also have passed over, from want of memory, other matters
which might have made an essential addition to the story. Nothing,
indeed, is more certain, than that incidents which are real, preserve
an infinite advantage in works of this nature over such as are
fictitious. The tree, however, must remain where it has fallen.
Having occasion to be in London in October 1831, I made some researches
in the British Museum, and in that rich collection, with the kind
assistance of the Keepers, who manage it with so much credit to
themselves and advantage to the public, I recovered two original
pamphlets, which contain a full account of the phenomena at Woodstock
in 1649.[3] The first is a satirical poem, published in that year,
which plainly shews that the legend was current among the people in the
very shape in which it was afterwards made public. I have not found the
explanation of Joe Collins, which, as mentioned by Mr. Hone, resolves
the whole into confederacy. It might, however, be recovered by a
stricter search than I had leisure for. In the meantime, it may be
observed, that neither the name of Joe Collins, nor Sharp, occurs among
the _dramatis personæ_ given in these tracts, published when he might
have been endangered by any thing which directed suspicion towards him,
at least in 1649, and perhaps might have exposed him to danger even in
1660, from the malice of a powerful though defeated faction.
[3] See Appendix.
1_st August_, 1832.
[Illustration]