Paying Blackmail to Witches--Breach of Contract with a
Witch--Demon of Tedworth--Mysterious Drum--A
Persecuted Family prayed for--Unaccountable Sounds and
Sights--Satan's Audible Responses--Drummer found
guilty of Sorcery--Raising Storms--A Wizard in
Cromwell's Army--Florence Newton--Aldermen's Children
bewitched to Death--Man kissed to Death in Youghal
Prison--Witch unable to say the Lord's Prayer--Julian
Cox, an old Taunton Witch--Woman in shape of a
Hare--Bewitched Cattle--Mode of discovering a
Witch--Selling a Soul to the Devil--Witch Executed--A
Song of the Seventeenth Century.
In the seventeenth century it was not uncommon for people in England
to secure themselves against witchcraft after the manner Lowland
Scotchmen protected themselves from Highland robbers--by paying
"blackmail." In 1612 John Davice, a Lancashire man, agreed to give a
dangerous witch, residing near him, a quantity of meal annually, on
condition that she would not bewitch him or his. She adhered to her
part of the contract, but Davice, like a foolish fellow, ceased to
implement his part of it. The covenant being broken, he was no longer
safe, and she bewitched him to death.
Many have heard of the Demon of Tedworth, in the county of Wilts, in
the year 1661. Mr. John Mompesson, of Tedworth, hearing a drum beaten
one day, inquired what it meant. The bailiff told him that the people
had for some days been troubled with an idle drummer, who demanded
money from them. On learning this, Mr. Mompesson sent for the man,
and, on his coming, commanded him to lay aside his drum. At the same
time the gentleman directed the constable to carry the disturber of
the peace before a magistrate, in order to have him punished. The
fellow begged earnestly to have his drum, but it was not thought
advisable to let him have it; therefore it was kept in Mr. Mompesson's
house.
About a month after the drummer's apprehension, Mr. Mompesson's family
were sadly annoyed by violent knocking and drumming--at times
apparently in the house, and at other times seemingly on the
house-top. This disturbance continued for weeks without much change,
but then the annoyance became unbearable. An offensive smell pervaded
the house; boards danced through rooms and passages by day; and at
night, drumming was heard for hours together in the apartment where
the drum lay.
To administer comfort, if not to afford protection, to the family, the
minister and divers pious neighbours came to the house to pray. The
clergyman knelt down at a bed-side, but soon rose again, to avoid
being injured by shoes and other missiles thrown at him. Singing was
sometimes heard, blue lights were seen, doors closed and opened with a
bang ten times in as many minutes, although no one could be seen near
them. During the time of a more than ordinary alarm, when many people
were present, a gentleman said, "Satan, if the drummer set thee to
work, give three knocks, and no more." Three knocks immediately
followed. For further trial, the gentleman said, "If the drummer has
instructed thee, Satan, to molest this innocent family, give five
knocks, and no more, to-night." Five knocks were given in response,
which were the last knockings heard before next day.
One morning Mr. Mompesson, seeing a quantity of wood in a corner of
the house, discharged a pistol at the sticks, as he thought a person
lay concealed under them. On their being removed, no one could be
seen, but a pool of blood met the eye. For a whole year the family
suffered by the wicked arts of the vagabond drummer. For his malicious
doings he was tried at the Salisbury assizes. On the evidence of the
parish minister, and of other intelligent witnesses, he was found
guilty of sorcery, and condemned to transportation. It is reported
that, on the voyage to the penal settlements, he alarmed the sailors
and endangered the ship, by raising storms which almost engulphed the
vessel. The drummer told a few confidential companions that he had
served in Cromwell's army with another soldier, a well-known wizard,
who instructed him in the magical art.
Florence Newton was committed to Youghal prison the same year (1661)
for witchcraft. The mayor of Youghal, in giving evidence against her,
said there were three aldermen, whose children had been bewitched to
death by the accused kissing the little ones. The indictment also
contain a charge against her for bewitching David Jones to death, by
kissing his hand through the prison grating. It appears that Jones and
Francis Besely were watching Newton one night in the prison, to see if
she had any familiars resorting to her. David Jones told the prisoner
that he had heard she could not say the Lord's Prayer, to which she
replied that she could. They found, however, that she could not repeat
it. David tried to instruct her; but, all he could do, she would not
utter the words, "Forgive us our trespasses." Seemingly grateful for
his assistance, she asked him to come near her, that she might kiss
his hand. He stretched out his hand, and she kissed it through a
window protected with iron bars. Subsequently Jones told deponent that
ever since the old hag kissed his hand he felt ill. At times he
imagined she was pulling his arm. The court found Newton guilty of
witchcraft, and she fell a victim to the popular superstition of her
time.
Julian Cox, aged seventy years, was indicted at Taunton summer assizes
in the year 1663, before Judge Archer, for witchcraft practised upon a
young maid. The evidence against her was divided into two heads:
first, to prove her habit and repute a witch; secondly, to prove her
guilty of the witchcraft mentioned in the indictment.
The first witness, a huntsman, swore that, while out with a pack of
hounds to hunt a hare, not far from Julian Cox's house, he started
one. The dogs chased the creature very close, so that it was fain to
take shelter in a bush. He ran to protect the hare from being torn;
and great was his surprise to find that, in place of a quadruped,
there lay Julian Cox, panting for want of breath.
A farmer said she had caused his cattle to run mad. Some of the
animals killed themselves by striking their heads against trees; and
that nearly every one of his herd died, either through their own
violence, or by a disease evidently brought on by witchcraft. To
discover the witch, he cut off the bewitched animals' ears and burned
them, an infallible process for bringing the offender to light. While
those animal organs were consuming in the fire, Julian Cox came raging
into the house, asserting she was being abused without cause. He once
saw her flying through a window of her house in her own proper
likeness.
In her declaration before a justice of the peace, Cox admitted that
the devil often tempted her to be a witch. One evening there came
riding on broom-sticks three persons--a witch, a wizard who had been
hanged years before, and a black man. The last-mentioned tempted her
to give him her soul; but, though he offered great rewards, she did
not yield--no, not for a moment.
Judge Archer told the jury he had heard a witch could not repeat that
petition in the Lord's Prayer, "Lead us not into temptation;" and
having this opportunity, he would try whether any reliance could be
placed in the report. He then asked the prisoner whether she could say
the Lord's Prayer. She declared she could, and went over it readily
enough, except the part thereof just quoted. Several chances were
given her to complete the prayer, but she could not finish it without
mistakes. The jury found her guilty of witchcraft, and she was
executed a few days afterwards without confessing her sins.
As an example of how the people's minds were filled with superstition,
even in their merry moments, we give the following popular English
song of the seventeenth century, as sung by Robin Goodfellow to the
fairies:
"Round about, little ones, quicke and nimble;
In and out, wheele about, run, hope, and amble;
Joyne your hands louingly; well done, muisition:
Mirth keepeth one in health like a physicion.
Elues, vrchins, goblins all, and little fairyes
That doe filch, blacke, and pinch maydes of the dairyes,
Make a ring in this grasse with your quick measures:
Tom shall play and I'le sing for all your pleasures.
Pinch and Patch, Gill and Grim,
Gae you together;
For you change your shapes
Like to the weather:
Sib and Tib, Licks and Lull,
You all have trickes too:
Little Tom Thumb that pipes,
Shall goe betwixt you;
Tom, tickle up thy pipes
Till they be weary;
I will laugh ho, ho, hoh,
And make me merry.
Make a ring on this grasse
With your quicke measures:
Tom shall play and I will sing
For all your pleasures.
The moone shines faire and bright,
And the owle hollows:
Mortals now take their rests
Upon their pillows:
The bats around likewise,
And the night rauen,
Which doth use for to call
Men to death's hauen.
Now the mice peep abroad,
And the cats take them;
Now doe young wenches sleepe,
Till their dreams wake them.
Make a ring on the grasse
With your quicke measures:
Tom shall play, I will sing,
For all your pleasures."