Nothing can place the credulity of the English nation on the subject
of witchcraft about this time, in a more striking point of view, than
the history of Matthew Hopkins, who, in a pamphlet published in 1647
in his own vindication, assumes to himself the surname of the
Witch-finder. He fell by accident, in his native county of Suffolk,
into contact with one or two reputed witches, and, being a man of
an observing turn and an ingenious invention, struck out for himself
a trade, which brought him such moderate returns as sufficed to
maintain him, and at the same time gratified his ambition by making
him a terror to many, and the object of admiration and gratitude to
more, who felt themselves indebted to him for ridding them of secret
and intestine enemies, against whom, as long as they proceeded in
ways that left no footsteps behind, they felt they had no possibility
of guarding themselves. Hopkins's career was something like that of
Titus Oates in the following reign, but apparently much safer for
the adventurer, since Oates armed against himself a very formidable
party, while Hopkins seemed to assail a few only here and there, who
were poor, debilitated, impotent and helpless.
After two or three successful experiments, Hopkins engaged in a
regular tour of the counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex and
Huntingdonshire. He united to him two confederates, a man named John
Stern, and a woman whose name has not been handed down to us. They
visited every town in their route that invited them, and secured to
them the moderate remuneration of twenty shillings and their expences,
leaving what was more than this to the spontaneous gratitude of those
who should deem themselves indebted to the exertions of Hopkins and
his party. By this expedient they secured to themselves a favourable
reception; and a set of credulous persons who would listen to their
dictates as so many oracles. Being three of them, they were enabled
to play the game into one another's hands, and were sufficiently
strong to overawe all timid and irresolute opposition. In every town
to which they came, they enquired for reputed witches, and having
taken them into custody, were secure for the most part of a certain
number of zealous abettors, who took care that they should have a
clear stage for their experiments. They overawed their helpless
victims with a certain air of authority, as if they had received a
commission from heaven for the discovery of misdeeds. They assailed
the poor creatures with a multitude of questions constructed in the
most artful manner. They stripped them naked, in search for the
devil's marks in different parts of their bodies, which were
ascertained by running pins to the head into those parts, that, if
they were genuine marks, would prove themselves such by their
insensibility. They swam their victims in rivers and ponds, it being
an undoubted fact, that, if the persons accused were true witches,
the water, which was the symbol of admission into the Christian
church, would not receive them into its bosom. If the persons examined
continued obstinate, they seated them in constrained and uneasy
attitudes, occasionally binding them with cords, and compelling them
to remain so without food or sleep for twenty-four hours. They walked
them up and down the room, two taking them under each arm, till they
dropped down with fatigue. They carefully swept the room in which
the experiment was made, that they might keep away spiders and flies,
which were supposed to be devils or their imps in that disguise.
The most plentiful inquisition of Hopkins and his confederates was
in the years 1644, 1645 and 1646. At length there were so many persons
committed to prison upon suspicion of witchcraft, that the government
was compelled to take in hand the affair. The rural magistrates before
whom Hopkins and his confederates brought their victims, were obliged,
willingly or unwillingly, to commit them for trial. A commission was
granted to the earl of Warwick and others to hold a sessions of
jail-delivery against them for Essex at Chelmsford, Lord Warwick was
at this time the most popular nobleman in England. He was appointed
by the parliament lord high admiral during the civil war. He was much
courted by the independent clergy, was shrewd, penetrating and active,
and exhibited a singular mixture of pious demeanour with a vein of
facetiousness and jocularity. With him was sent Dr. Calamy, the most
eminent divine of the period of the Commonwealth, to see (says Baxter
[224]) that no fraud was committed, or wrong done to the parties
accused. It may well be doubted however whether the presence of this
clergyman did not operate unfavourably to the persons suspected. He
preached before the judges. It may readily be believed, considering
the temper of the times, that he insisted much upon the horrible
nature of the sin of witchcraft, which could expect no pardon, either
in this world or the world to come. He sat on the bench with the
judges, and participated in their deliberations. In the result of
this inquisition sixteen persons were hanged at Yarmouth in Norfolk,
fifteen at Chelmsford, and sixty at various places in the county of
Suffolk.
Whitlocke in his Memorials of English Affairs, under the date of 1649,
speaks of many witches being apprehended about Newcastle, upon the
information of a person whom he calls the Witch-finder, who, as his
experiments were nearly the same, though he is not named, we may
reasonably suppose to be Hopkins; and in the following year about
Boston in Lincolnshire. In 1652 and 1653 the same author speaks of
women in Scotland, who were put to incredible torture to extort from
them a confession of what their adversaries imputed to them.
The fate of Hopkins was such us might be expected in similar cases.
The multitude are at first impressed with horror at the monstrous
charges that are advanced. They are seized, as by contagion, with
terror at the mischiefs which seem to impend over them, and from
which no innocence and no precaution appear to afford them sufficient
protection. They hasten, as with an unanimous effort, to avenge
themselves upon these malignant enemies, whom God and man alike
combine to expel from society. But, after a time, they begin to
reflect, and to apprehend that they have acted with too much
precipitation, that they have been led on with uncertain appearances.
They see one victim led to the gallows after another, without stint
or limitation. They see one dying with the most solemn asseverations
of innocence, and another confessing apparently she knows not what,
what is put into her mouth by her relentless persecutors. They see
these victims, old, crazy and impotent, harassed beyond endurance
by the ingenious cruelties that are practised against them. They were
first urged on by implacable hostility and fury, to be satisfied with
nothing but blood. But humanity and remorse also have their turn.
Dissatisfied with themselves, they are glad to point their resentment
against another. The man that at first they hailed as a public
benefactor, they presently come to regard with jealous eyes, and begin
to consider as a cunning impostor, dealing in cool blood with the
lives of his fellow-creatures for a paltry gain, and, still more
horrible, for the lure of a perishable and short-lived fame. The
multitude, we are told, after a few seasons, rose upon Hopkins, and
resolved to subject him to one of his own criterions. They dragged
him to a pond, and threw him into the water for a witch. It seems
he floated on the surface, as a witch ought to do. They then pursued
him with hootings and revilings, and drove him for ever into that
obscurity and ignominy which he had amply merited.