Part 1

DEVONSHIRE WITCHES.

BY PAUL Q. KARKEEK.

(Read at Teignmouth, July, 1874.)

Reprinted from the Transactions of the Devonshire Association for the Advancement of Science, Literature, and Art. 1874.

DEVONSHIRE WITCHES.

BY PAUL Q. KARKEEK.

(Read at Teignmouth, July, 1874.)

Devonshire bears powerful evidence to the theory of Mr. Buckle, that the climate and scenery of a country tend to influence the creed of the people. Our miles of broad and almost deserted moorland, the deep valleys, the dark combes, and our stormy iron-bound coasts, may to a certain extent have inclined the Devonians of the past to a firmer belief in the miraculous, than would be found in a more populous and less rugged county. Traces of this are present even now. Although ages have passed away since unhappy men and women were tried for witchcraft, there may still be found in the western shires scores who believe in charms, and who are habitual consultants of the "wise man;" and sufferers from the evil-eye, or people who have been ill-wished, are constantly heard of.

Prior to the arrival of James I. our statute-book looked but mildly on witchcraft. Laws were passed in 1551 and 1562 against this offence, but it remained for James the Demonologist to bring matters to a climax. In proportion as the Puritans and their doctrines spread, so increased the belief in, and prosecution for, witchcraft. This belief partook of the nature of an epidemic. Suddenly prisoners were seized, tried in various ways, taken before the magistrates, and sent to the assizes, where they were but seldom acquitted. Popular opinion having been satisfied, things resumed their usual course. There was no doubt about the crime; the same village contained the victims and the person of ill-repute. The inhabitants could see for themselves the patient whom no physician could cure, and who pronounced the complaint to be witchcraft; and the confession of the accused only too plainly confirmed all suspicions. Next to murder, nothing could be more palpable; and yet, when once the foundations of this fearful creed were disturbed by rationalism, the whole fabric was speedily swept away, leaving but few traces to show how great it had been, and these only in the minds of the most ignorant classes. Strange to say, there are but few records of the conviction of witches which were not fully supported by the confessions of the accused. It is indeed true that these confessions were only too frequently extorted by gross cruelty, but in scores of cases this was not needed. The prisoners rejoiced in their crimes, and seemed proud of their evil reputations. In that awful moment, when, with one foot on the gallows ladder, and preparing to pay the penalty of their fancied crimes, they even then would relate, and in glowing colours, their evil deeds, there could be but small reason for idle boastings then; but so it was. The witches themselves as firmly believed in their evil powers as did their accusers and judges. The trials by law were conducted with all order and fairness. There was no unusual mode of procedure. In those days justice leaned towards the accuser, and inclined to punishment; but witchcraft was not an exception, or was treated worse than murder or theft, and not nearly so badly as heresy. As I said before, these trials of witches would come in spasms, and with all the fury of an epidemic. The history of one such epidemic I propose to relate.

In the year 1682 there lived in the town of Bideford three old women, poor, ugly, and discontented. One, Temperance Lloyd, pursued the lucrative occupation of an apple-woman, when she could find any good citizen rash enough to deal with her. No good housewife would allow her children to go near her; for she was a witch, and the children might get under the influence of the evil-eye. Once she had been sent to the assizes, but was acquitted, much to the disgust of the Bideford folk. On another occasion she had been dragged before the magistrates and examined, but let off. It was no light matter to be tried for witchcraft; but then there was one consolation, nothing could be done to a witch until she had been forsaken by the devil, her master; so it was only necessary to try her often enough. She had two companions in her evil ways; one was Susanna Edwards, who was a witch of a higher class than old Temperance Lloyd, for she had a pupil, one Mary Trembles, who had come to an understanding with Susanna Edwards to learn the art and mystery of witchcraft in all its branches. Things had been going on very quietly in Bideford for some time. People had died in unusual ways, and many had suffered without making much ado about it; but there is an end to all things, and one day the storm broke. This came about in the following manner:

A certain gentleman, named Thomas Eastchurch, lived in Bideford with Elizabeth his wife, and Grace Thomas, her maiden sister. Mistress Grace had been ailing for some time, and had consulted several physicians, but to no purpose. Her brother did not attach much importance to the case, and considered she was suffering from natural causes. Doctors in those days called nervous attacks witchcraft. Some months previous to the date of our story, Mistress Grace Thomas had recovered sufficiently well as to be able to go out a little to take the air. While out she came across Temperance Lloyd, who, to her astonishment, fell on her knees, and thanked heaven that she was well and out again. Now, people do not usually go on their knees in the open streets to return thanks for the recovery of sick folk, even if they are doating old beggar women. This was suspicious, and coupled with the fact that it was Temperance Lloyd, the notorious witch, who was so surprisingly grateful, it caused Mistress Thomas to form a little theory about the origin of her ailments. That night she became much worse, and lay so for some months, sometimes better and sometimes worse. At length, on July 2nd, as she lay a groaning and complaining of her pains, and particularly of one knee, her sister looked at it, and on close inspection of the painful joint, discovered nine places like unto the pricks of a thorn. It needed no great amount of reasoning power to see that if people have nine prick holes on their knee, they must be bewitched. Then they recollected the fervent delight exhibited last September by Temperance Lloyd, and forthwith Dame Eastchurch procured an interview with that worthy. When asked if she had made any images of wax or clay for the bewitching of her sister, Temperance replied in the negative, but owned that she had used a piece of leather for that purpose. This distinction without a difference was not likely to avail her anything, and she was at once arrested. The next day, Sunday, July 3rd, a court of inquisition was opened at the Town-hall, and his worship the mayor, Mr. Thomas Gist, Alderman John Davies, and the town clerk, Mr. John Hill, formed the bench before which the case was tried.

Mistress Thomas described very fully the history of her complaint. She gave all the symptoms; she told about the prickings, and pinchings, and swoonings in a style that would have satisfied any one; and what was more, she had lost every pain and ache ever since that Temperance Lloyd had been locked up.

Then Dame Eastchurch related the discovery of the nine prick-holes, and of the acknowledgment by the prisoner of using the piece of leather to bewitch her sister.

The next witness, Ann Wakely, who had been sick nurse to Mistress Thomas, confirmed the foregoing evidence, even to the magical disappearance of the pains at the moment of the prisoner's arrest. Furthermore, she had been commissioned by the mayor to examine the body of the prisoner, which she had done in company with Honor Hooper and other matrons, and they had discovered marks of diabolic familiarity about her. The prisoner, too, had admitted to her that a certain magpie, which came and fluttered at the window of Mistress Thomas on Thursday morning last, was the devil himself. Honor Hooper confirmed all this.

Then Mr. Thomas Eastchurch gave his evidence, which consisted in retailing a long conversation he had had with the prisoner yesterday, in which she had confessed to having met the devil in Higher Gunstone Lane, and that he had tempted her to exercise her craft on Grace Thomas. The description of the devil is simply that of a hobgoblin. He was the length of her arm, and wore black clothes; he had broad eyes, and a mouth like a toad.

Then Temperance Lloyd was called on for her confession, which was given ad libitum. All that the preceding witnesses had said was true, and in addition she related that on her visits to Mr. Eastchurch's house she was accompanied by a "braget cat" (the devil in disguise), and that when she had pricked and pinched her victim, though the room was full of people, no one had seen her.

Here was enough to hang a dozen witches; but now that she was in a mood to confess--an evident proof of her desertion by the devil--the magistrates went into all her other witcheries, and truly they make a goodly list.

She had been acquitted, though guilty, in 1670 of bewitching William Herbert to death; and in 1679 she had done to death the daughter of Mr. Edward Fellow, a gentleman of Bideford.

When finished with by the magistrates, the prisoner was taken to church, and in the presence of all the witnesses against her was examined by the rector, Mr. Michael Ogilby. This appears to be a relic of the old ecclesiastical courts. Here the prisoner adds other trifling items to her already long list of crimes. She had done to death Jane Dallyn, and also Lydia Burman. There was some excuse for this last, inasmuch as the said Lydia Burman had given evidence at the assizes in 1670 that the prisoner had appeared to her in the shape of a red pig, while she was at work, brewing in the house of Humphrey Ackland, of Bideford. Then Mr. Ogilby put her to the test of reciting the Lord's Prayer and the creed, but the prisoner failing to do this to his satisfaction, "he gave her many good exhortations, and so departed from her." Such was the evidence against, and the confession of, Temperance Lloyd. People believed it in those days, but now, alas! Cuilibet in sua arte credendum est.

Now, when Temperance was locked up in gaol, she evidently found it lonely, and so made sufficient observations to her attendants as to necessitate the arrest of her old cronies, Susanna Edwards and Mary Trembles. One remark was to the effect that if she was to be hanged, that Susanna should join her, and at the same time dropping hints about riding on a red cow, and so on.

On July 18th the same magistrates set to work on Susanna Edwards and Mary Trembles. A certain Grace Barnes had been taken ill in a mysterious manner, and to the alarm of her husband and friends. Whilst the attack lasted, one Agnes Whitfield, who was present, heard some one at the door, which opening, she found Mary Trembles pretending to be going to the bakehouse with a white pot in her hands. Grace Barnes being told who was at the door, cried out that Mary Trembles was one of them who did torment her; the other was Susanna Edwards, because she was always coming to her house on some foolish pretence or other. Then a blacksmith called William Edwards reports a conversation of Susanna Edwards, showing that she and Mary Trembles had been trying their art on Grace Barnes. One of the informants was Joane Jones, who was probably the female watcher at the prison, because she gives evidence of conversations overheard between Mary Trembles and Susanna Edwards while in prison.

A curious scene took place before the magistrates on this occasion. Anthony Jones, husband of the last witness, was standing by the side of Susanna Edwards, and seeing her to twist her fingers about, said, "Thou devil, thou art tormenting some person or other!" This enraged the old woman, who looked at him and said, "Well enough I'll fit thee." The evidence of Grace Barnes being required, a constable and the man Jones are sent to fetch her; and as they are bringing her with much ado into the court, Susanna catches the eye of the officious Mr. Jones, who forthwith falls down in a fit, and is described as having "leapt and capered like a madman, and fell a shaking, quivering, and groaning, and lay for the space of half an hour like a dying or dead man." Then follows the examination of Mary Trembles, who pleads guilty to everything and anything. She had been enlisted to the cause of witchcraft by Susanna Edwards, and had been promised by her "never to want for money, drink, or clothes;" that the devil had appeared to her like a Lyon, and that she and Susanna had bewitched Grace Barnes because the latter had refused them some bread.

Susanna Edwards, in her confession, said that she had made the acquaintance of the devil two years ago in Parsonage Close, and that he was like a gentleman. She met him again the same day in Stambridge Lane, and that he again persuaded her to kill Grace Barnes. She had bewitched one Dorcas Coleman, and finally owned that "she gave herself to the devil when she did meet him in Stambridge Lane, and that the said Mary Trembles was a servant to her, in like manner as she, this examinant, was a servant to the devil (whom she called by the appellation of a gentleman)."

Another case was gone into against Susanna Edwards on July 26th, but it merely confirmed her confession, which was hardly necessary.

These miserable old women were, on this evidence and these confessions, sent to Exeter, where they, on August 18th, were tried, found guilty, and condemned to be hanged; and which sentence was carried out on the 25th of the same month at Heavitree, as we are informed in Jenkin's History of Exeter.

Even at the foot of the gallows they stuck to their story, altering it but little, though they were much questioned by a meddlesome Mr. Hann, "who was a minister in those parts." In a curious tract published in London this same year (1682), which I have appended to this, with a copy of the deposition taken at the magistrates' enquiry, there is a statement that Mary Trembles was very loath to be hanged, and in order to get her to the place of execution was strapped on a horse.

It is commonly supposed that this was the last execution for witchcraft in England; but such is not the case. In 1716 a woman and her daughter were hanged at Huntingdon for selling their souls to the devil. Twenty years after, in 1736, the penal act of James I. was erased from the statute-book. The judges of the land were among the first to set their faces against these judicial murders; one of the earliest being Mr. Chief Justice Holt, who on all occasions endeavoured to procure an acquittal.

There is a letter among the State papers from Lord Keeper North, who was at Exeter on circuit at these assizes, to Sir Leoline Jenkins, which gives an excellent view of the question as then considered. It is dated Exeter, August 19th, 1682. "Here have been three old women condemned for witchcraft; your curiosity will make you enquire of the circumstances. I shall only tell you that what I had from my brother Raymond, before whom they were tried, that they were the most old, decrepid, despicable, miserable creatures that he ever saw. A painter would have chosen them out of the whole country for figures of that kind to have drawn by.