The Old Woman and the Conjurors, by Mike Slater

The Old Woman and the Conjurors

THE OLD WOMAN and the

CONJURORS A Journey from Witch Scratching to the Conjurors, and the Southcottian Millenarean Movement of the early 19th Century

by Michael Slater

The Old Woman and the Conjurors © 2017, 2018 by Michael Slater. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Llewellyn Publications, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First North American Edition, 2020 First Printing, 2020 ISBN 978-0-7387-6584-6 Originally published by Troy Books Inc. 2017 ISBN 978-1-909602-30-4 Llewellyn Publications is a registered trademark of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd. Cataloging-in-Publication Programme data is on file with the British National Bibliography.

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Contents Introduction Prologue: Superstition, Witchcraft, and the Courts

12 14

Chapter 1: Scratching the Witch Susannah Bolt Why Were These Women Attacked in This Manner?

Scratching the Witch (above the Breath) The Long Compton Murder – A Late and Fatal Example of Such an Attack The Wise Man of Croughton Water Doctors of Northamptonshire Scratching—A Supposed Theory of Operation

21 21 26 27

Chapter 2: On the Trail of the West Country Conjurors Ann Burges and the Bryants Who Was Old Baker?

Hints of Another Conjuror in the Area Conjuror Perry Esther Peadon Alternatives to Scratching Johnny Hooper – The Ladock Conjuror Polwhele’s Account Foxy Pie Ann Hill (alias Nan Sharp) of Malmesbury The Wiltshire Account The Dorset Account The Petition William Abrahall and the Monkton Combe Ghost Mary Francis of St. Philip’s Mary Boon and John Field of Staverton Dr Slater

46 48 53 62 65 67 70 72 74 78 80 82 85 86 87 91 93 95

Chapter 3: Joanna Southcott and the Visitation Richard Brothers (1757–1824) Arrest and the Asylum America

105 105 106 106

30 32 39 42

Joanna Southcott (1750–1814) Methodists George Turner (1755–1821) Joanna Southcott’s Followers The Panacea Society John Wroe (1782–1863) James Jershom Jezreel (1849–1885)

106 107 108 109 111 111 113

Chapter 4: Mary Bateman, the Leeds Witch Mary Bateman, the Sorceress

115 121

Chapter 5: The Southcottians in the West Country The Revd Dr. Robert Hoadley-Ashe Edmund Baker and the Dowlish Southcottians Joseph Southcott and the Bristol Southcottians Conjuror Perry: Was He a Follower?

126 126 127 128 129

Epilogue Appendix 1 – The Will of Richard Baker of Westleigh Appendix 2 – The Will of Benjamin Baker of Westleigh Appendix 3 – The Family of Richard Baker of Westleigh Appendix 4 – The Family of Henry Perry of Dowlish Wake, Somerset Bibliography Notes Index

131 133 135 138 140 142 144 154

Photoplates

between pages 78 - 79 1. Colston’s House-In Colston’s Days 2. Falmouth Arms Ladock 3. Sign at Perry’s Cider Farm 4. Dowlish Friendly Society box at Perry’s Cider Farm 5. Witch weather vane at Perry’s Cider Farm 6. Kilns at Westleigh 7. Silver Valley Cottage 8. Stocks at Ladock

Acknowledgments I would like to thank my friend Paolo Sammut for the inspiration for this book. In November 2015 I was researching the historical newspapers for Paolo on the subject of Lady Valerie Meux when, in the adjacent column to that which I was reading, I noticed an article entitled “Witchcraft”. It immediately grabbed my attention because the names and places mentioned were familiar to me. The article turned out to be about my ancestor, Susannah Sellick.

This was the beginning of a very interesting trail, which led to the creation of this manuscript.

I would also like to thank my friends at Bristol Open Circle Moot and Omphalos Magickal Moot in Bath for their support and encouragement to write up my research.

Special thanks go to Jessica Vineyard of Red Letter Editing (redletterediting.com) for her expert guidance and professional editing of the first drafts of my work.

The digitising of archived material such as that used in my research has enabled rapid searching and easy access to otherwise obscure local history. Much of this work would not have been possible without my subscriptions to Ancestry.com and The British Newspaper Archive.

(Newspaper transcripts (c) The British Library Board. All rights reserved. With thanks to The British Newspaper Archive, www.BritishNewspaperArchive.co.uk.)

I am also extremely grateful to the staff at the South West Heritage Trust centres for their help and patience in assisting me whilst researching unusual lines of investigation.

I would also like to thank the kind support and advice of Professor Ronald Hutton of Bristol University, gentleman as always, and Professor Emeritus Carlo Ginzburg of UCLA for answering my enquiry. Also Magnús Rafnsson, historian at Galdrasýning Museum of Sorcery and Witchcraft, Iceland, Kris Cary of Ladock, Cornwall for information on Silver Valley Cottage, and Professor Peter W. Edge of the School of Law, Oxford Brookes University, for his information on Manx law.

10

Acknowledgments For the crucial piece of the puzzle regarding the Dowlish Wake chapel, I am grateful to S. Slight of the London Metropolitan Archives for helping me locate the relevant material.

Finally, I thank Susannah Sellick of Colaton Raleigh. Was she really a witch? We will never know.  

11

INTRODUCTION

T

his thesis came about through the accidental discovery of an ancestor of mine, Susannah Sellick, of Colaton Raleigh in Devonshire, a village perhaps more famous for its connection with the family of Sir Walter Raleigh. Susannah was attacked as a suspected witch on two occasions, once in 1852 and again in 1860. Initial shock that attacks on old ladies as suspected witches had continued into the mid nineteenth century was eclipsed by finding that not only was the phenomena widespread, but it even persisted into the twentieth century. My subsequent research into this kind of attack led to an investigation of so-called conjurors—cunning or “wise” men and women, both local and farther afield—which, in turn, led to a rather startling revelation that is hinted at in the title of this document. I eventually produced a talk based on my findings, which later inspired me to produce this companion work.

The intent behind these attacks was to physically scratch the “witch” in order to render her powerless by the drawing of blood. The attackers were usually put up to the job by the local conjuror. (Although I have no direct evidence of this in the particular case of my ancestor, I have found examples where this is most certainly the case.)

My search for these conjurors led me to a better sense of the thought processes that pervaded the agricultural classes of the West of England in the wake of revolutions in France and America. The area has been steeped in rebellion, from Monmouth at the end of the seventeenth century to the Bristol riots of 1793 and 1831 and the turnpike unrest between 1727 and 1749; that feeling of unease with the establishment was never far from the surface. The area was not immune to the “Swing Rebellions” from the 1790s to the 1840s with a rise of machine wrecking in the 1830s.

Atrocities towards religious dissenters in Bristol and its 12

Introduction surrounds during the preceding period added to the tensions in these rapidly evolving and uncertain times.

The potato famine in 1845–55, which was such a disaster in Ireland, also caused severe food shortages in the West Country. The Tambora volcanic eruption in Indonesia in 1815 caused 1816 to be a year without a summer in the British Isles. These years were thought to be the last severe cold period of the little ice age. Environmental factors such as these put pressure on the poor rural communities.

As usual, the people wanted somebody to blame for crop failures, cattle disease, and unexplained illness, and the figure of the witch fitted the bill nicely.

In writing this work, I felt it was important to illustrate the significant connection I discovered that had existed between some conjurors and radical, superstitious, prophesy-based forms of Christianity whilst also bringing to the fore the lives of these people, their beliefs, and risks they ran, operating as they did somewhat outside the law. I have tried to keep a balance between providing academic content and remaining entertaining, introducing to the public some little known, eccentric, and interesting characters, who deserve their place in the history books.

Mike Slater  

13

PROLOGUE Superstition, Witchcraft, & the Courts

D

uring the period from the seventeenth to the midnineteenth century, the governance of the largely superstitious rural class occasionally became difficult and sometimes threatened to break down completely.

The popular unrest derived largely from economic and environmental hardship and was often exacerbated by political upheaval with its associated propaganda. During this time, the media evolved from town crier to the early newspapers and publications aimed at the elite, such as The Gentleman’s Magazine. Then, as now, media was used by various factions to influence the popular mood.

The following cases illustrate the relationship between the media, the mob, and the courts during the century prior to the main period of study of the present work, which extends from the last witch executions to the aftermath of the Jacobite rebellion, and gives some background to the events which were to follow. It becomes apparent that superstition and popular uprising are frequent bedfellows and that draconian methods were occasionally employed to restore the fragile equilibrium.

Bideford Witches – Devon 1682

In the build-up to the now famous trial of the Bideford witches in 1682, Temperance Lloyd, one of the accused, was sent to Exeter gaol on 8 July 1682 and was joined by Mary Trembles and Susanna Edwards on the nineteenth. They languished in custody for more than a month before the Western Circuit magistrates arrived in the city for the assize.

Meanwhile, the rumour-mill took hold, and the entire city became obsessed by the trial. Stories abounded of the deeds of the supposed witches. Any event which was considered slightly out of the ordinary was attributed to the “witches” 14

Prologue in a manner typical of any mob having found a scapegoat.

Roger North, brother of Lord North, one of the judges due to preside over the trial, gave an account of the state of public opinion: The weomen were very old[,] decrepit, and impotent, and were brought to the assizes with as much nois and fury of the rabble against them as could be shewd on any occasion. The storys of their acts were in every ones mouth, and they were not content to bely them in the country, but even in the citty where they were to be tried, miracles were fathered upon them, as that the judges coach was fixd upon the castle bridg, and the like. All which the country beleeved, and accordingly persecuted the wretched old creatures. A less zeal in a citty or kingdome, hath bin the overture of defection or revolution, and if these women had been acquitted, it was thought that the country people would have committed some disorder. The tryall was before Judge Raimond, a mild passive man, who had neither dexterity nor spirit to oppose a popular rage, and so they were convict and dy[e]d. 1 George Lyman Kittredge comments on this case in his book Witchcraft in Old and New England (1929), where he writes: “This was a case in which it seems clear that the judges would have preferred a verdict of ‘not guilty’ if they had been left to themselves”.

It is worth noting that this trial pre-dated the unsuccessful Monmouth Rebellion and the retribution which followed by only three years, so the fear of the authorities was perhaps not without good cause, and Monmouth was able to capitalise on the disaffected rural population to raise an army.

Hertfordshire – 1712

Outside of the West Country, the trial of suspected witch Jane Wenham of Walkern, Hertfordshire, who was condemned to death for witchcraft in 1712, is another striking example. Wenham’s trial is notable for its recent date. By that time, educated members 15

The Old Woman and the Conjurors of society were adopting a more enlightened attitude towards superstitious beliefs, but in contrast to this attitude, Wenham’s case was one of the last in England where spectral evidence was admitted. The definition of “spectral evidence” was the belief by the supposed victim that an apparition of the accused had appeared to them and caused harm of some kind. (The said apparition was not visible to the court.) This form of evidence was the mainstay for securing convictions during the Salem witch trials in America but had been discredited there by the end of those trials. Chief Justice Powell, who presided over the Walkern case, made open fun of the evidence, at one point suggesting that there was no law against flying, which was one of the things of which Wenham was accused. He summed up strongly in the defendant’s favour, but he struggled against a jury comprising the highly superstitious Hertfordshire populace. He was obliged by the law, as it then stood, to sentence Wenham to death and to apply for a royal pardon later. Fortunately, the pardon was forthcoming, and Wenham found support in the figure of William Cowper, First Earl Cowper, who moved her onto his own property for her upkeep and safety.

Interestingly, it was the Second Earl Cowper who preserved documents relating to the following case.

Tring Witches – 1751

Fear of strangers, foreigners, non-conformists, and Catholics in particular was at a height during this period due to the political turmoil. The Scots and the French were invading, and the population were volatile, under perceived attack both physically and spiritually. As will be seen in later cases in this study, the practise of begging from farm to farm and subsequent refusal of alms could easily lead to accusations of witchcraft. If ill luck befell the farmers after such a refusal, then suspicion of curses or of being “overlooked” by the evil eye would often arise.

16

Prologue John and Ruth Osborne, an elderly couple from Long Marston, were begging at a Gubblecote farm, Tring, Hertfordshire.2 John had been unable to find work because he was suspected locally of being a wizard.3 When a farmer named Butterfield refused them, he interpreted Ruth’s response as a curse. Sometime later, when the farmer suffered some ill, the couple’s curse was deemed the cause of the ill, and they were accused of being a wizard and witch. The locals proceeded to take the law into their own hands to deal with the suspected malefactors. This led to the town crier of Hemel Hempstead market being paid to announce on 14 April 1751: This is to give notice that on Munday next there is to be at Long Marcon in the Parish of Tring two Hill desposed persons to be ducked by the neighbours consent.4 This same notice was also cried at Winslow and Leighton Buzzard. In the days of limited affordable entertainment it didn’t take much to raise a substantial crowd, and news of this event naturally excited the rural populace and raised concern in official circles.

The couple were taken by the authorities into the Tring workhouse for their safety. On 21 April, fears for their lives increased, and they were moved to the vestry of Tring Church.

The next day, matters got out of hand, and a huge crowd descended upon the workhouse, breaking it open and doing considerable damage. The Tring constable bravely demanded “that the peace be kept”, but the crowd warned him to keep out of it. The court statement from John Tomkins, the master of the workhouse, shows that the mob demolished part of the workhouse and threatened to kill Tomkins, so he had little choice but to reveal the couple’s whereabouts.5 Some reports also claim that the mob threatened to set fire to the town. The size of the mob was estimated at over five thousand people by 17

The Old Woman and the Conjurors most sources, with the largest estimate of ten thousand appearing in the Salisbury and Winchester Journal.6 Once the mob had got hold of the Osbornes, they took the couple to the Black Horse at Gubblecote, afterwards moving them to the Half Moon at Wilstone. According to the landlord of the Half Moon, Ruth Osborne was brought to his house and kept there for some three quarters of an hour. The couple, thumbs tied to opposite toes, were then tried by ducking. Separately, they were wrapped in a sheet, tied to a rope, and dragged across a pond about five feet deep. Thomas Colley, a Tring chimney sweep, was seen to turn and prod Ruth with a stick, and two other men, William Humbles and Charles Young, alias “Red Beard”, both from Leighton Buzzard, were also involved. One of the men finally dragged Ruth to the bank. After the men had finished with her, they then turned to John and hauled him across the pond. Eventually, three or four men carried Ruth to the Half Moon, where they placed her body, tied to her husband, in a bed. The landlord said that he went to see Ruth fifteen minutes later, after the men had left, and she was dead. John survived but died soon afterwards.

Meanwhile, Colley was collecting money from the crowd “for the pains he had taken in shewing them sport.”

Although the accomplices in this gross act were either acquitted or disappeared into the woodwork despite warrants being issued for their apprehension, according to the reports, it was only Colley who was convicted and suffered execution for his crime. He was hanged at Gubblecote Cross, 24 August 1751, and afterwards hanged in chains from the same gibbet, the inhabitants of Marston Meere having petitioned for him not to be hanged near their houses. The mob were in attendance at some distance, with most being of the opinion that it was a ‘hard case to hang a man who had destroyed such an old wicked woman that had done so much mischief by her witchcraft.’7 A military escort of 108 horsemen, officers, and two trumpeters was provided to the gallows because the unruly mob had caused 18

Prologue concern among the authorities at the first attempt to execute Colley.

It appears that during this case there was a news embargo in place in the Home Counties until after Colley’s trial and execution. Reports appear in Newcastle and Scotland, Ipswich, and in the West Country, but the silence in the London papers is remarkable; it serves to illustrate the nervous state of the nation during these troubled times and the power of superstition to motivate the masses.

A convenient “confession” was extracted and signed by Colley, to be read at and published after his execution, to act as another warning of the folly of superstition:8 Good People I beseech you all to take Warning, by an Unhappy Man’s Suffering, that you be not deluded into so absurd & wicked a Conceit, as to believe that there are any such Beings upon Earth as Witches.

It was that Foolish and vain Imagination, heightened and inflamed by the strength of Liquor, which prompted me to be instrumental (with others as mad-brained as myself) in the horrid & barbarous Murther of Ruth Osborn, the supposed Witch; for which I am now so deservedly to suffer Death.

I am fully convinced of my former Error and with the sincerity of a dying Man declare that I do not believe there is such a Thing in Being as a Witch: and I pray God that none of you thro’ a contrary Persuasion, may hereafter be induced to think that you have a Right in any shape to persecute, much less endanger the Life of a FellowCreature.

I beg of you all to pray to God to forgive me & to wash clean my polluted Soul in the Blood of Jesus Christ my Saviour & Redeemer.

So Exhorteth you all the Dying

Thomas Colley

Signed at Hertford August the 23rd 1751

19

Fig 1: The grave of Susannah and Henry Sellick, Colaton Raleigh churchyard

20

SCRATCHING the WITCH

T

his chapter examines the case of the author’s ancestor, Susannah Sellick née Bolt, and her attackers. It also looks at belief in the efficacy of scratching a witch as portrayed in historic literature, from the United Kingdom, as far back as the sixteenth century, and endeavours to seek an understanding as to why the belief persisted.

Susannah Bolt

Susannah Bolt was born in Colaton Raleigh in 1782 and baptised there on 8 March 1783. Susannah married Henry Sellick (1786–1838) on 28 December 1808 in Colaton Raleigh. The couple had a son, Simon, in 1808, and a daughter, Caroline, in 1812. Susannah’s mother, Elizabeth, died in 1814 and was buried on 18 March in Colaton Raleigh. Caroline died towards the end of 1816.

Susannah was widowed in 1838, and Henry was buried at Colaton Raleigh.9 Susannah Sellick, by this time an elderly widow, was attacked at least twice under the belief by the attackers that she was a witch. It is clear from the following reports that the attackers were very sure in their own minds that this was the case and had put considerable effort into achieving their desired results. Fortunately for Susannah, the magistrates took a dim view of such attacks and were somewhat experienced in dealing with similar assaults in the area. By now, in the mid-nineteenth century, witchcraft was deemed to be a ridiculous superstition, largely persisting among the agricultural classes. In the previous century, Susannah perhaps would not have found the magistrates quite so supportive.

The attacks on Susannah Sellick were reported when the two cases came to trial, and the story was covered in several local newspapers with varying level of detail, examples of 21

The Old Woman and the Conjurors which are presented here. The first attack occurred on the evening of Tuesday 20 April 1852 and was brought before the magistrates the following day. The summary of the case appeared in the Exeter and Plymouth Gazette on the following Saturday.

Witchcraft – On Wednesday last week Mary Pile and Walter Gooding were brought before the Magistrates for assaulting Susannah Sellick, a poor widow woman of 70 years of age, of the parish of Colaton Raleigh. The complainant stated that on the evening before, as she was walking on the Queen’s highway, she observed the two defendants walking together under the hedge; the woman, Pile, came up to her and said, “Why have you hurted my daughter?” and then fell at her and scratched her face all over, while the man kneeled on the ground with his hands under her clothes; a man, William Schute, then came up, and the parties went away. Sellick added that she did not know Pile’s daughter, and was never in her house in her life. The witness, Shute, described the state Sellick was in, with her face covered with blood and unable to speak. Pile, in her defence, said she was justified in what she had done; Sellick had injured her daughter by witchcraft, and it was necessary that she should “fetch her blood”; it took five men to hold her daughter just before it happened, and directly after, she was herself again. The defendant, Gooding, husband of the young woman, said he had kneeled down and driven a long nail, “which he had forged himself ”, into the ground where the old woman stood, while his mother-in-law was scratching her face to draw the blood, and he was quite right in what he had done. The daughter, the supposed victim of the evil-eye, said that for two years she had often been very ill, and that during the same time Susan Sellick was continually in her house; about a fortnight ago she wore a string round her neck, and when in bed she found she had lost it, and could find it nowhere; that very day fortnight she was in bed, it was about twelve o’clock, she heard a very loud knock at the door, and then at the foot of the bed, and then against the foot-board, and she could not move she had such a weight upon her breast, and in the morning the string was round her neck again! After that Susan Sellick was continually with her, and they could not keep a candle lighted in the house; and 22

Scratching the Witch not only did her husband’s candle go out, but on one occasion the candle was found the next day down stairs in a clothes basket. The young woman looked very ill, and suffered, apparently, from epileptic fits.

The Magistrates endeavoured to reason with the parties, but it was utterly useless. The woman, Pile, was fined £1 13s., including costs; and the son-in-law £1 3s., including costs, the whole of which were immediately paid. The Magistrates suggested to the deluded people that they should wait upon a Clergyman of the parish, and listen to any observations he might make to them on the subject; they likewise told the woman Sellick, that if she suffered any further annoyance, she was welcome to come to them immediately, one of the Magistrates saying that this was the third case within three months in which he had fined people for assaulting poor old women for supposed witchcraft.10 William Schute, the rescuer in this situation, was actually a member of Susan’s family. His grandmother was Hannah Bolt, and his mother was Ann Ebdon11 (see the following newspaper report).

Walter Gooding was from the village of East Budleigh. The 1851 census shows him as a labourer living in East Budleigh with his wife, Amy, and daughter, Ann.12 As a child, Walter had lived with his mother, Mary, a lace maker, in Colaton Raleigh, alongside the Sellick and Bolt families.13 Amy Pile was from the village of East Budleigh, and the couple married in 1849. It is likely that the families were connected.

The Gooding family moved to Abergavenny, Wales, after the court case, where their daughter died in 1853.14 Walter and Amy ended up in Stockton-on-Tees, Durham.

Walter and Amy’s mother, Mary, had travelled from East Budleigh to Colaton Raleigh for the specific purpose of carrying out the attack. The forging of the nail was premeditated, and this is precisely the sort of thing a conjuror would recommend. Walter and Amy are buried in Oxbridge Cemetery, Stockton-on-Tees.15 Some eight years later, Susannah was attacked yet again under a similar suspicion. This time the perpetrator was a young woman called Virginia Ebdon (spelling varies), 23

The Old Woman and the Conjurors possibly encouraged by her grandfather. The Western Times of 14 July 1860 reported the attack: Assault – Virginia Ebden was summoned by Susannah Sellick, for an assault. The old woman is 78 years of age, and resides in Colaton Rawleigh. She went to turn her cow into a brake when defendant came up behind her. Complainant turned and said how you frightened me, to which the defendant replied that she wanted to be frightened for what she “had done to she”. Complainant said she hadn’t “done” anything to her, when defendant scratched her face and hands, and made them bleed. Mr. Toby, on the part of the defendant, contended that the old woman assaulted the girl, and that the scratches were inflicted by brambles in the brake. The Bench disbelieved this, and fined her 5s and 9s expenses. The complainant had been looked upon as a witch, and there is little doubt this assault was committed to draw “blood”, by which, according to the popular theory, the witches’ power is destroyed.16 Another report elaborated on the statement for the defence as follows, “Virginia Ebden had been looking after her grandfather’s donkey; Sellick called her names and chased her with a stick until they reached where her grandfather was waiting, a version of events supported by Ebden and the grandfather himself.”17 Virginia was a lace maker living with her grandfather at the time of the attack. The report continued: “John Hebden (sic), the grandfather, aged 75, said he saw the old woman running after his daughter with a stick, of which his daughter had hold; neither made any complaint to him.”

Virginia Alford Ebdon was born in Colaton Raleigh in 1842 to parents John and Elizabeth. She grew up next door to members of the Gooding, Schute, and Sellick families.18 After Virginia’s father died, her mother, Elizabeth, married a man called Simon Vinnicombe but continued to live next door to Virginia and her grandfather.

Susannah Sellick lived to the ripe old age of ninety-six in Colaton Raleigh. She was interred with her late husband in the churchyard on 23 March 1879.

24

Scratching the Witch

A Contemporary Attack in Crewkerne, Somerset

An attack on an old woman had occurred in the same year as the first attack on Susannah Sellick. This particular attack has also been studied by historian Owen Davies.19 It illustrates the widespread, popular, and deeply held superstitious mindset and furnishes the reader with more information about the circumstances under which these attacks occur. The suspected witch in this case was a woman called Charity Furzer, who lived in Crewkerne. Charity was born around 1786 and never married. She was accused of witchcraft by her own sister and her niece, Grace Webb, who at the time was aged about twenty-four. Webb believed that Furzer, besides bewitching her, had also caused the death of her two brothers.20 The Exeter and Plymouth Gazette reported the case: An elderly spinster named Charity Furzer, of Crewkerne, charged Grace Webb, of the same place, with an assault there on the 21st ult. The details of the case excited the risibility even of the Bench, and developed such gross superstition as could scarcely have been expected in the nineteenth century.

The old lady, who was in her 67th year, stated that on the day in question the defendant came to her and violently scratched her and made her bleed, charging her with being a witch and a hag-rider, and with having been the death of several persons by her evil practices and witchery.

In answer to questions from the Bench, the defendant admitted the “drawing of blood,� and solemnly declared she did so to get cured of a debilitating complaint, which had almost incapacitated her from walking to church; that the complainant, who it transpired was her own aunt, was reputed to be a witch, and went about hag-riding, and wishing evil wishes; that she had been disturbed in her sleep by her coming hag-riding her; and had felt her on her chest, and had on many occasions seen her on awaking, sometimes on one side of her bed, and sometimes on the other; that she had on one occasion felt her, and found her as soft as velvet; that she had heard and believed that her evil wishes had killed several persons, and seriously, 25

The Old Woman and the Conjurors and on her oath, averred, that she believed she could have died if she had not—as she had been advised by the “bettermost” folk to do—drawn her aunt’s blood; and having done so, she immediately got better; and from not being able to walk to church, was now able to walk a distance of eight miles to Chard; that her aunt had wished her mother evil wishes, but they took no effect.

The defendant’s mother, who is also the complainant’s sister, was present, and avowed her belief in her sister’s power to do evil by wishing, and corroborated her daughter in most of her statements, except that, although she had heard her daughter cry out dreadfully when the hag was on her, she had never herself really seen the hag in the act.

It was almost as laughable to witness the poor old “hag” crying and wringing her hands, and calling God to witness that she was “no witch,” and that if she were to die that blessed moment, and was taking the sacrament, she never hurted the hair of any body’s head, and never went hag-riding in her life, nor never left her bed in the night time for any such purpose, and this she called upon a woman, with whom she lodged, and the constable, to corroborate her in.

The Bench endeavoured to undeceive the wretchedly superstitious niece and her mother as to their belief in such witchery by the old woman, but they were not easily shaken in their opinions, and the matter ended by the defendant being discharged on payment of the expenses, and advised to shake hands with their aunt.21 As with the case of Susannah Sellick, the notion of “hag-riding” was a feature of this case, where the so called witch appeared to the victim at night, and tormented them by pinning them to their bed. This notion and particular descriptive term was widespread in the West Country, and is an apparition that is still common in cases of sleep paralysis today. It was often a basis of accusations of witchcraft.

Why Were These Women Attacked in This Manner?

To get a clearer picture of the nature of these scratching attacks, the author undertook a search for others. One was found which demonstrated a sequence of events that became 26

Scratching the Witch typical of the stories that were collected for this document, in that the attacking party had resorted to a local conjuror in order to pinpoint the source of their ill fortune, this case of Ann Burgess and the Bryants is described in chapter two of this work. These conjurors generally told the attackers exactly how to deal with the supposed witches, and such was the faith in these cunning men and women that people would have been prepared to travel great distances for their advice. Even when such a conjuror had died, moved on, or even been arrested, the memories of their charms and remedies lingered in the folk beliefs of the community.

The belief in the ability of scratching to rid a witch of his or her power can easily be traced back to at least the sixteenth century. It became particularly widespread after the “Warboys” trial, described in the next section. Historian Stephen L. Kaplan claims that evidence for the practise can be found as far back as the thirteenth century in England.22

Scratching the Witch (Above the Breath)

Following are examples of “scratching the witch” from literature. Some are from well-known books, and some are from more obscure pamphlets and chapbooks. The tradition refers to scratching “above the breath”, meaning generally the upper parts of the body, usually the arms and face. In Scotland this seemed to mean specifically upon the forehead and perhaps palms of the hands.23 Literature: 1. Shakespeare, King Henry VI, part 1, act 1, scene 5 Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury enters and exclaims: “Where is my strength, my valour, our English troops retire, I cannot stay them.

A woman clad in armour chaseth them.”

The next to enter is Joan La Pucelle (Joan of Arc).

Meanwhile, Lord Talbot continues: “Here, here she comes. I’ll have a bout with thee; Devil or devil’s dam, I’ll conjure thee: 27

The Old Woman and the Conjurors Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch, And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest.”

Joan La Pucelle replies: “Come, come, ‘tis only I that must disgrace thee.”

2. Butler’s Hudibras (1663–1678) “Till drawing blood o’ the Dames like Witches, They’re forthwith cur’d of their capriches.”

3. John Cleveland’s The Rebel Scot c. 1640s “Scots are like Witches, do but whet your Pen, Scratch till the blood come, they’ll not hurt you then.”

Pamphlets and Chapbooks: Short forms of publications called pamphlets and chapbooks contained tales of events of some notoriety, often highly graphic, and sometimes of political or religious motivation. It was not uncommon for people who had participated in or witnessed these events to sell such publications to bolster otherwise meagre incomes.

1. Warboys Pamphlet, 1593: The most strange and admirable discoverie of the three Witches of Warboys.

This pamphlet, which describes the case of the trial and executions of suspected witches in Huntingdonshire for the murder by witchcraft of Lady Cromwell, Oliver’s grandmother, goes into quite a lot of detail about scratching.

The trial was very influential, even possibly influencing the Witchcraft Act of 1604, and although the practise of scratching was already deeply rooted in folklore, the trial brought it to the attention of the ruling classes in a particularly public way. The admission in court of testimony regarding scratching gave it credibility.

This credibility in later centuries was played down with the suggestion that its practise was the Devil’s sneaky method of leading people, by its use, into the practise of witchcraft.

Even at the end of the sixteenth century this notion had currency.

At the height of this credibility, however, scratching was instigated even by clergy, such as The Revd M. Smith, 28

Scratching the Witch Parson of Pinner, Middlesex, and Master Burbridge, a gentleman of Pinner Park. The story of this event was recorded in the pamphlet “A Most Wicked work of a wretched witch” (1592). The scratching occurred under these gentlemen’s supervision: “[H]e never cesed til he had scratched and drawne bloud on hir, perswading himselfe that was a remedy sufficient under God, that would make him well: neither was it or is it any Capital error, experience testifies: for since that, he hath mended reasonablie, and nowe goeth to Churche.”

The following extract contains a tale from the counties of Staffordshire and Derbyshire. This text demonstrates that the commentator was one who believed scratching was itself a type of witchcraft. (The pamphlet, as was common for this type of literature, has a long title.)

2. The Most wonderfull and true storie, of a certaine witch named Alice Gooderige of Stapenhill, who was arraigned and convicted at Darbie at the Assises there. As also a true report of the strange torments of Thomas Darling, a boy of thirteene years of age, that was possessed of the Devil, with his horrible fittes and terrible Apparitions by him uttered at Burton upon Trent in the County of Stafford, and of his marvellous deliverance [thought to be authored by John Darrell, 1597].

Some of the standers-by persuaded the boy to scratch her: which he did upon the face and the back of the hands, so that the blood came out apace. She stroked the back of her hand upon the child, saying, take blood enough child, God help thee. To whom the boy answered, pray for thyself, thy prayer can do me no good. Here by the way, touching this use of scratching the witch: though it be commonly received as an approved means to descry the witch, and procure ease to the bewitched; yet seeing that neither by any natural cause, or supernatural warrant of God’s word it hath any such virtue given unto it; it is to be received among the witchcrafts, whereof there be great store used in our land, to the great dishonour of God. 29

The Old Woman and the Conjurors A century later, at the trial of Richard Hathaway in 1702, who was indicted for fraudulently accusing Sarah Morduck of bewitching him, it was attested that the London magistrate Sir Thomas Lanes ordered the scratching of a woman, and later had to justify his decision to the trial judges. Being well aware that it was now illegal and an assault, he claimed the victim’s consent for his action.24 3. Waverly Anecdotes, Sir Walter Scott.25 These poor creatures had the misfortune to be strongly suspected in the neighbourhood of using the black art; which probably arose from the circumstance of one of them being very crabbed in her temper, and the other very crazed in her head. They ruled the new neighbours for a season most despotically, for none dared to quarrel with them; till at length the old weaver plucked up courage, held a council of the other cronies, and forthwith went to the landlord, and declared, in their name and his own, that unless the witches were put away next term, or else “scored aboon the breath”, all the other cotters would leave the place. [To draw blood above the breath of a reputed witch is to render all her spells impotent.] *

The Long Compton Murder: A Late and Fatal Example of Such an Attack

As late as 1875, the power of the belief in the efficacy of drawing blood led James Haywood, a forty-five-yearold farm labourer of Long Compton in Warwickshire, to murder eighty-year-old Ann Tennant. The case was reported * Other references include Marks of an Absolute Witch: Evidentiary Dilemmas in Early Modern England by Dr. Orna Alyagon Darr, which has a whole chapter on scratching, and A Most Wicked Worke of a Wretched Witch, B. G. (ed. Kirsten C Uszkalo, 2011), through Witches in Early Modern England: A Digital Humanities Project for Unveiling Witchcraft Narratives. Available at: www.witching.org/content/mostwicked-worke-wretched-witch.

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Scratching the Witch in the Worcester Journal of Saturday, 18 December 1875.

According to her husband, John, Ann had gone out to get some bread for tea. When she was returning, she met with Haywood, whose father and mother believed he was tormented by at least fifteen witches in the village. He too believed he was tormented by these suspected witches, of whom he believed Tennant was one.† Haywood suffered mentally after a head injury and would become delusional after excessive drinking, which it seems he had been doing on this occasion. He stabbed Tennant three times in the legs and left temple with a pitchfork, severing several varicose veins in her legs, which led to the woman’s death three hours later. Haywood claimed at the time of the murder that he intended to kill Tennant as well as at least two others in the village whom he suspected, Elizabeth Hughes and Elizabeth Ford. Hughes was Ann Tennant’s daughter. Haywood became somewhat excitable when Ford appeared to testify in court.

It is stated in some reports, although not widely acknowledged by later commentators, that Haywood had resorted to a “wise man” in the village of Croughton named Manning, who had told him he had been bewitched. This is a significant factor with regard to this present study.

Heywood claimed in his defence that he did not directly kill the woman and would not have done so had he not been “in beer”. He also cited as his justification several passages of the Bible, including the well-known and often quoted passage from Leviticus 20:27 (KJV): “A man also or woman that hath a familiar spirit, or that is a wizard, shall surely be put to death: they shall stone them with stones: their blood shall be upon them.” He did believe that the drawing † This murder was later linked by some to a second killing, that of Charles Walton of nearby Lower Quinton on 14 February 1945. In both cases a pitchfork was involved and there were suggestions of witchcraft as the motive for the second crime although the lens of time has distorted many accounts of events.

31

The Old Woman and the Conjurors of her blood would release him from his bewitchment; he claimed in court that “he would not hurt anyone willingly; he only wanted to draw her blood; and was sorry he had killed her, but did not think he had done any great harm”.26 Haywood was found not guilty of murder on account of an unsound mind. For this reason he escaped hanging but died in June 1890 in Broadmoor asylum to which he had been committed.

The Wise Man of Croughton

A cunning man named Manning, who worked with water, or was a “water doctor”, was the person referred to as “wise man of Coughton or Croton”. A report of the Haywood trial in the Warwick and Warwickshire Advertiser of Saturday, 18 December 1875, related more on Manning. This is the only article that the author has found which actually names him in connection with this incident. The article states Manning lived near the Aynho station on the Great Western Railway at Croughton, Northamptonshire, some few miles southwest of Banbury. Other articles had confused this location with Coughton, Warwickshire. It was claimed that Manning had taught Haywood the practise of scrying using bubbles in a container of water in order to detect which women were tormenting him.

Manning was mentioned in the newspapers as early as 1830 as being a water doctor at Croughton.27 In 1855, a woman named Fanny Young describes visiting a Manning some twenty-five years previously.28 This was possibly Edward Manning, a gentleman farmer, of Yew Tree Farm, Croughton, who was born in 1791 in Halford, Warwickshire, and died in Croughton on 17 January 1876. Edward was already a widower when he married his second wife, Elizabeth King, on 30 June 1817 at Lower Heyford, Oxfordshire. Edward’s sole executor was his son, William Manning, of Greatworth, Northamptonshire. The magistrates in the Haywood trial regretted that Manning had not been in court to face the charge in place of Haywood. This, as will be seen in another 32

Scratching the Witch case, is not an isolated example of the frustration of the court in such a case.

Manning’s history was printed The Globe and the Leeds Mercury of December 1875, shortly before his death. This was typical of the defamatory articles against superstition written in previous decades, well written, but drawing upon just about every possible source of vilification that the writer could muster. This article referred to Manning as “Dr. Merlin” the “Midland Warlock” rather than actually naming him, probably due to the potentially libellous content: A MIDLAND WARLOCK During the recent trial of a half-witted yokel who murdered an unfortunate old woman because he imagined she had bewitched him, evidence was given proving the existence of an almost incredible depth of ignorance and superstition in the Midland districts. A respectable witness stated that the inhabitants of Long Compton and its neighbourhood believe in witches and wizards to the present day.

As a rule, these reputed magicians are of course “poor old women.”

The mother of the murdered woman deposed to a similar effect, and Dr. Hutchinson bore testimony to the general prevalence of this superstition in South Warwickshire. When a belief of this sort once becomes thoroughly established, it is pretty certain to be turned to profit by those who batten on human delusions. Accordingly we hear of a certain “wise man,” a water doctor, living at a village some miles distant of Banbury. To this worthy go all folks troubled by evil spirits, and among others, James Haywood, the murderer, found himself at the sage’s door. The advice of the learned necromancer was simple and to the point. He declares James to be “possessed” by Anne Tennant, and that the only way of exorcising the witch was to draw her blood, when her power would at once cease. The advice the poor imbecile at once proceeded to carry into effect by hitting the miserable old woman with a pitchfork until he pretty successfully exorcised her spirit, not from his body, but from hers, a mistake for which his adviser was primarily responsible.

When recently discussing this case we expressed a hope that “something more would be heard of the wise man,” meaning 33

The Old Woman and the Conjurors thereby that we trusted his conduct in the matter would be judicially investigated. So far no signs are seen of this desirable consummation, but we have been furnished with the history of a certain Midland wizard, the publication of which may perhaps awaken the public attention, and so strengthen the hands of the law for the extirpation of these pests. In a village not many miles from Banbury lived, some few years ago—and may be there living now for aught we know to the contrary—a notorious quack doctor. This worthy commenced his nefarious trade before the Act was passed which prohibits unqualified persons from practising as physicians.

Although the law was on more than one occasion invoked against him, he continued to compound vile concoctions, and to prescribe for all manner of complaints with perfect impunity. So long as there was no fear of immediate death, this wretched old imposter would continue administering his potions and pocketing his fees. When, however, alarming symptoms set in, he would absolve himself of farther responsibility by directing the victim to consult some regular practitioner. By this shrewd policy he prevented any chance of being arraigned for manslaughter, no patient ever actually dying under his hands. It was not alone with medicines that he treated diseases. The dismal little room that the old reprobate called “his surgery” frequently witnessed the weaving of spells and the rites of incantation. Ensconced in this dirty den, with arrays of gallipots on every hand, he sold advice, medical or magical, to all who presented the proper fee. On several occasions he was even suspected of viler practices, but the villagers were too afraid to appear against him.

All manner of traditions existed regarding his intimacy with the Powers of Darkness. A herd of swine whose society the wizard greatly affected were popularly supposed to be his familiars. Belated yokels passing the premises at night frequently heard him swearing at someone—objurgation seemed his favourite pastime at all hours of the day and night—and the pigs generally grunted an answer.

Then, too, the gaunt, black horse on which he was accustomed to visit out-patients and go round his farm was reputed to possess far more knowledge than would be found in an honest steed. As the two went jogging along, Dr. Merlin with his round shoulders almost overtopping his bullet head, and his fiery little eyes glancing 34

Scratching the Witch suspiciously in every direction, while the horse ponded regularly on, as if his legs were the piston of a steam engine, the villagers generally got out of the reach of the evil eye as quickly as might be. Even the odd parish clerk, fortified as he was by the sanctity of his office against magic, cared not to meet the uncanny couple after sundown. It is highly probable that the imposter did all in his power to augment these ridiculous fears. They invested him with a mysterious power that had great effect upon the ignorant minds of the villagers, and caused his fame as a wizard to get spread abroad.

Patients have been known to come on foot for more than a hundred miles to obtain his advice, which was always forthcoming, no matter what the occasion, in return for a suitable honorarium. In this matter of fees the doctor had a regular scale, from which nothing would induce him to depart. From the people of his own village he would accept silver, provided its amount was not less than 5s., and for this he gave both advice and medicine. But strangers had to cross his itching palm with gold before the oracle would condescend to speak, and whatever drugs were prescribed had to be paid for in addition. By these means, coupled with the most miserly habits, the doctor amassed a considerable fortune, popularly estimated at from £30,000 to £40,000. Probably this was an exaggeration, but he must have acquired a good deal of money during his many years of practice, since on one occasion he purchased the freehold of two or three hundred acres of land. With this he did not do so well as with fortune-telling and quack nostrums. His miserly disposition caused him to starve the soil as well as the unfortunate sheep and cattle that had the ill fortune to come into his possession.

During one especially inclement spring all his lambs died because he could not find it in his heart to spend the money necessary for their preservation. As for improved fertilisers and farming machinery, Dr. Merlin set his face dead against such new-fangled rubbish, with the result that his acres presented a more impoverished appearance every year. The squire and rector frequently attempted to impress this fact upon the villagers as proof that the doctor was an impostor.

If he could not farm a bit of land was it likely that he could really have evil spirits at his command? To which the yokels made ready response that “Ould Nick knows nowt o’ varming, but he’s plaguey 35

The Old Woman and the Conjurors good at physic and such like.” Apart from superstition the people were shrewd enough, as anyone would find who attempted to get the better of them in a bargain. The parish clerk previously mentioned once even brought to justice a gang of “confidence trick” scoundrels who had attempted to swindle the old fellow when on a visit to London. But in regard to spiritual matters they were one and all prepared to believe anything, no matter how preposterous. It was universally credited and vouched for on the most unimpeachable testimony that a headless horseman had been often seen careering along the road at midnight, with a pack of tailless dogs at his heels. A neighbouring village to that where Dr. Merlin dwelt was on one occasion thrown into consternation by a terrible ghost, which entered bed-chambers when the doors were locked, and threw things about generally in a most inconvenient manner. On being questioned as to the appearance of this spectre, a girl who professed that she has seen it declared that the dreadful thing had “a head and two wings like the angels carved on tombstones,” and that it flew about her room “like an owl out mousing.” On this occasion it was subsequently discovered that the ghost originated with this very damsel, who had invented it to cover purposes of her own. But before the fraud was thus laid bare, at least a dozen were ready to depose that their own eyes had seen the dread apparition. The people being thus credulous, it is easy to see what mischief a clever old knave like Dr. Merlin might produce. Were he to tell a patient that the latter was suffering from the spells of a certain witch, whoever was named would stand every chance of brutal treatment.

There is a darker side even than this to the picture, suggestive of horrors that cannot be here described. Both men and women have been known to visit “wise men,” not with any belief in their magic power, but to procure the necessary means of committing crime. It is well known that a “wise man” may be relied upon for implicit secrecy, while his medical knowledge almost always extends as far as the concoction of certain poisonous drugs which could not be obtained elsewhere without giving a clue to detection. This branch of the profession is, of course, very lucrative, and, judging from the large sums of money gained by Dr. Merlin and his class, there seems only too much reason to fear that it is extensively carried on.

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Scratching the Witch Being under this impression, we are disposed to endorse the remark made by the barrister who defended poor imbecile Haywood that “the wise man should have been placed on trial instead of the prisoner.”—Globe. 29 There was also an anecdote published in Folklore in 190230 which involves Manning in an incident occurring around 1857 that concerned another reputed witch named Dolly Henderson. Dolly was from Salford, a village not far from Long Compton and near the famous Rollright stones. Manning had indicated that it was Dolly who had bewitched a woman named Ann Hulver. Dolly was also believed to have bewitched a young boy in the village. The boy threw a thorn stick at Dolly, which cut her arm and made it bleed a good deal, thus removing the curse from both victims. Dolly later died, rendering the perceived relief permanent.

More curious information relevant to this study appears, in January 1886, in a story from the Wilts and Gloucestershire Standard. This article relates that the villagers of Long Compton had largely become adherents of Primitive Methodism, particularly of a style likened to that of Dwight Lyman Moody and Ira David Sankey, evangelical postmillennialist theology of the “second great awakening” in America, a theology which appealed to the supernatural rather than rational scepticism. These preachers had embarked on a popular tour of Britain and Ireland in June 1873 which lasted until August 1875. This brand of Methodism had at its roots such groups as the “Magic” or “Forest” Methodists of Delamere Forest, Cheshire, led

by James Crawfoot. Such groups were believers in, and denouncers of witchcraft, yet used techniques which, to a modern occult practitioner, would be included among their repertoire. Not only that, but the cunning man from near Banbury, who has been shown to be Mr. Manning, was a popular speaker at Long Compton on behalf of that persuasion. The article reads as follows: 37

The Old Woman and the Conjurors WITCHCRAFT AT LONG COMPTON: — A correspondent of the Spectator who once knew Long Compton well says that, apart from their religious delusions, the people there are not such barbarians as one would suppose. Their excessive superstition, he says, is due to the fact that Long Compton, being a poor living held by a pluralist who lives elsewhere, was in olden times much neglected, and the people gradually deserted the Church for the more vehement preaching of the Primitive Methodists. Here constant excitement and variety were provided for these neglected people. “Their ordinary preachers were men of their own class and parish, but they had, now and then, a change. A blind man, a woman, a black man, a child, a sweep, would come, perhaps all the way from Oxford, or best of all, the great doctor, half-prophet, half-quack, seventh son of a seventh son, would arrive from Banbury, and draw all the country for miles around to hear his expositions of the Apocalypse. I believe the doctrines of this sect are identical with those preached by Messrs.

Moody and Sankey, but it may be imagined what they became in the hands of ignorant men, some who could neither read nor write. Never was there such talk about frames and feelings, dreams and visions of the night; besides, as one of themselves said to me, “We like to hear about the Devil and damnation.” As comfortable sensations were sure evidences of the Spirit, uncomfortable ones, such as indigestions, night-mares, and especially nervous attacks, St. Vitas’s dance, &c., were accounted undoubted operations of the Evil One, invited, it was thought, by some of the witches, who were as numerous in the place as old rheumatic women whom a laborious life had robbed of whatever good looks they had once boasted. In such cases, the “cunning man” was sent for (there seems to be a succession of these fellows somewhere near Banbury, like the ancient school of magic at Toledo); and he, for a fee, would work some absurd ceremony, which, in my time, was, however, always unbloody. Scripture was, of course, alleged for all this, and even the Prayer Book too, for, as a well-to-do Wesleyan class-leader argued with me, “Do you not say, ‘As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,’ and witchcraft surely, you will allow, was in the beginning?” I really fear it “ever shall be” in Long Compton, since, in spite of new schools, a restored church, and a zealous clergyman, it evidently continues as rife as 30 years ago. It 38

Scratching the Witch is, in truth, extremely difficult to get at such a people now. A curate once preached against a particular superstition, and only got himself accounted a free-thinker for his pains. The ranting leaders are as jealous of their authority as Roman Catholic priests are in Ireland, and naturally do their best to keep the labourers from other influences than their own. The schools may do something, but directly a child goes to work, he is taught to be disrespectful and suspicious, especially in dealing with parsons. Acts of kindness in sickness or want meet with little gratitude. I wish some of the wealthy Nonconformists, who can raise such large sums for the Liberation Society, or for sending missionaries to remote islands, would do something to liberate their poor co-religionists from such degrading superstitions, which are at least as bad as any that can be imputed to Romanist and Ritualist.

And may not such facts as these suggest a doubt to the most liberal Churchman whether we are yet quite ripe for inscribing “Liberty, Fraternity, and Equality” over a pulpit and churchyard gate? Even Dean Stanley, were he vicar of Long Compton, would hardly endure an address from “the cunning man” on the well-worn text, “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” 31

Water Doctors of Northamptonshire

The main talent of a “water doctor” was the supposed ability to diagnose a patient by the study of their urine. A convenient colour wheel chart for this purpose appeared in a book called Epiphanie Medicorum by Ullrich Pinder. Pinder had these books printed on his own press by son-in law Frederich Peypus which was active at his home between 1505 and 1513 (later elsewhere until 1534) and some books were carefully coloured. Coloured copies are rare, so presumably ownership of such a book or a copy thereof would be a valuable potential source of a water doctor’s knowledge. In Northamptonshire there was yet another water doctor and he also partook in preaching, he died on 12 May 1877 and his name was Joseph Knighton of Wollaston just south of Wellingborough. Wollaston is a little far from Long Compton for Joseph to have been preaching there, but that remains a possibility. The obituary reads as follows: 39

The Old Woman and the Conjurors WOLLASTON.—DEATH OF A CELEBRITY.— On Saturday last Mr. Joseph Knighton, the well known “water doctor,” as he was generally called, died at his residence, at this village, at the good old age of 82, after only a few days’ illness. The deceased was by trade a shoemaker, but for many years past had not followed that occupation. His fame as a doctor in this peculiar line was known far and wide, and he was visited by large numbers from all parts of the country, and during his long life amassed a considerable fortune by his profession. The deceased, who, we need scarcely say, was an entirely self-taught man, possessed the gift of preaching, and frequently preached in the Baptist Chapel, at Wollaston, a building erected entirely at the cost of himself and Sarah, his deceased daughter.

The last occasion on which he preached was on the 29th ult., when it was thought he took cold. He was buried on Thursday in the burial ground attached to his chapel. He has left a widow, but no family, and there is no one to succeed him in his profession.32 This area of Northamptonshire seems to have had plenty of water doctors. The village of Raunds, between Wellingborough and Ringstead hosted a druggist and apothecary named James Chambers, born around 1796 in Barnet, he lived in the High Street, Raunds, with his maiden sisters Charlotte, Harriett and Ann. James was the son of another James Chambers, whose fame as “the great water doctor” in the county during the 1820s exceeded his own.33 It is curious that a James Chambers married an Ann Richardson Manning, daughter of John Manning of Croughton, on 20 March 1843. John Manning’s profession is stated on the marriage certificate as “Medical man”. He was born in 1795 in Halford, Warwickshire and was brother of Edward Manning. It appears John died in Halford 1823 and his daughter went to live with Edward in Croughton.

Both John and Edward were sons of William Manning and Hannah Clarke of Halford Bridge.

In 1815 there appeared an advertisement in the Northampton Mercury for a shop which was run by Messrs. Manning and Herbert, water doctors: 40

Scratching the Witch Farthingstone, near Towcester, Northamptonshire.

MANNING & HERBERT beg leave to inform the Public that they have removed from BLISWORTH to FARTHINGSTONE, where they have opened a Medical Shop, and continue casting and inspecting Urine, and practising Physic. They attend Business every Day, at any Hour, (Sundays only excepted, and then in Cases of great Emergency) and they hope, by a strict Attention to the Duties of their Profession, to merit the Approbation and Support of their Friends and Public.

I, EDWARD PEBORDY, of HARPOLE-MILL, Servant of Mr. Davis, was about a half a year ago grievously afflicted with a most violent Spasmodic Colic in the Stomach, accompanied with a severe attack of the Yellow Jaundice, and after trying the most eminent of the Faculty, to no purpose, I was then given up as incurable, but hearing of Messrs. Manning and Herbert, WaterDoctors, of Farthingstone, near Towcester, Northamptonshire, I was induced to consult them, and after taking three Doses of their Medicine I was restored to perfect Health.

Witness my Hand, EDWARD PEBORD. Harpole, April 15, 1815.

N. B. The Public are requested to beware of Impositions and Defrauds, as the Doctors never go from Home, but may be consulted at their House in Farthingstone, where they attend to give Advice and practise in Physic and casting Urine.34 An Edward Manning married a Sarah Herbert in Farthingstone on 18 July 1814, however, Sarah died after childbirth aged 26, and was buried in Farthingstone on 8 March 1815. She had been born in Farthingstone on 16 August 1788, daughter of John and Jane Herbert. The couple lived at Blisworth and the surviving daughter, Sarah Herbert Manning, was baptised at Blisworth on 5 March 1815. Edward’s profession is stated as water doctor in the register. Sarah Herbert Manning married a John Waters on 24 March 1836 in Towcester and by 1851 was a widow living in Croughton near her father Edward. It was Sarah Herbert’s brother Thomas who was listed in various 41

The Old Woman and the Conjurors census returns as surgeon, general medical practitioner and druggist. Another brother, John Herbert, of Castle Dykes, Farthingstone, was indicted for murder in 1848 for shooting a friend. This incident occurred after a gin and ale drinking session with a man named Thomas Manning of Stowe. John Herbert was a firearms fanatic who had previously lost a son in a shooting tragedy. The charge was reduced to manslaughter and Herbert was sentenced to 3 years in prison, a surprisingly lenient sentence for the era which caused some surprise in court.

Scratching – A Supposed Theory of Operation

It was believed that witches had familiar spirits that did their work for them, often in the form of animals or imps. The supposition was that these familiars could be fed on blood, which gave them the power to perform their supernatural tasks, as in the 1566 case, in Dorset, of cunning man John Walsh of Netherbury.35 Drawing the blood of a witch would rob her familiars of their power, albeit on a temporary basis.

The general populace at large was so convinced of the effectiveness of this method that it often appeared to work and was used as proof of witchcraft.

The reference given earlier from Shakespeare seems to imply that the drawing of blood in this manner sends the soul of the witch to the Devil, although this is the only reference the author has found with this implication.

Given the antiquity and already widespread use of scratching by the mid-sixteenth century, the theory of operation given here may not hold true and deserves further investigation. Although this practise seems to be peculiar to the British Isles, there is certainly a possibility that it may have spread from continental Europe. This, however, is not backed up by evidence available to the author. The author enquired of Carlo Ginzburg, Professor Emeritus of the Department of History at University of California, Los Angeles. Dr. Ginzburg, who has researched extensively on the subject of witchcraft in Europe, told the author he 42

Scratching the Witch has never encountered this practise. Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, but it is certainly an indicator that scratching was more prevalent in the British Isles, where the accounts are plentiful. As far as a possible Scandinavian influence, Magnús Rafnsson, historian at Galdrasýning Museum of Sorcery and Witchcraft in Iceland, says “I have nowhere come across anything similar to witch scratching.

This does not surprise me since the more I studied court records, annals and essays from the 17th century the more I realised that the whole history of witch-hunting in Iceland has few similarities to what happened in other countries.

I don’t remember coming across any mention of a cure or the possibility of removing a witch’s power, which, by the way, was to a large extent based on written signs with invocations.”

The belief seems contrary to the practise of the sixteenth and seventeenth century “witch-prickers” such as Christian Caddell, alias John Dickson, in Elgin, Scotland in 1662.

Caddell used the method of “pricking” to discover witches, the lack of bleeding being required as evidence in this case.

It was believed witches could protect themselves from injury by magical means, so perhaps if it was possible to draw blood, then it was assumed the witch’s powers were compromised. The practise of pricking was approved by King James VI of Scotland in his treatise of 1597 entitled Daemonologie, In Forme of a Dialogue, Divided into three Books: By the High and Mighty Prince, James &c., which was widely circulated in England, where James became King in 1603.

During the writing of this book, a letter appeared in the Fortean Times magazine,36 alerting the author to the Manx practice of “bloodwipe”. The letter was from Professor Peter W. Edge of School of Law, Oxford Brookes University, a specialist in the interaction of law and religion.

Bloodwipe is a dialect form of blōdwīte, which occurs in old English records of punishment for assault, wite being an Anglo-Saxon term meaning, in this case, a fine or 43

The Old Woman and the Conjurors amercement paid as part of a settlement specifically for the shedding of blood. From this law evolved the concept of the “king’s peace”, for the breaking of which, penalties were later codified. This part of law was connected to weregild, a person’s material value in monetary terms, invoked if the victim was killed. Compensation for such an attack was generally required to be paid to the Crown or an official alderman with local jurisdiction. In the city of Hull in East Yorkshire, the mayor had a small mace called blood-wipe which was used in the parting of frays. In such a fray, the person who drew blood on the other was required to pay compensation of one noble to the mayoress.37 Professor Edge describes the Manx case thus: Manx customary law had the doctrine of “bloodwipe” (earlier bloodwite), where drawing blood from a victim was punishable by a set fine. The Bystander’s Case of 1581 is recordered in the Liber Placitorum (one of the sets of court records of the Manx courts). In that case it was found that bloodwipe could be excused if the victim had used witchcraft against the defendant, and had spilt their blood in order to cancel the enchantment. Bloodwipe and its witch-bleeding defence survived until the first Manx Criminal Code of 1817.

Further communication with the professor regarding the origins of the belief in the Isle of Man suggested an English or Scottish influence on the law.

Some (primarily constitutional) structures of Manx law are pretty clearly Norse in origin. But since the Isle of Man was a Norse kingdom it has been conquered by the Scots, the English, the Scots again, etc. So in substantive law, the origins of a particular doctrine are much more likely to be Scots or English, sometimes with a unique twist, than from any further afield. An example that comes to mind is the Manx law that approaching a cottage without calling out was itself a crime (Manx farm houses of the time didn’t tend to have doors, but just wedged gorse in the doorway to keep animals out). The detail is peculiarly Manx, but it’s very similar to the English rule about calling out while hunting in the forest.

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Scratching the Witch Applying this to the bloodwipe as magical defence case, by the 1580s English law had become an incredibly persuasive influence in Manx law – the judges were still Manx, but the law was made primarily by an English Lord, and the key officers were also English. So I would be very unsurprised to find it was a British Islands phenomenon, rather than a survivor from an earlier Norse period!

The Manx case described here was contemporary with the spread of belief in the efficacy of witch-scratching in the courts on the British mainland, so a direct influence is quite likely, although it seems the Isle of Man courts retained the belief much longer. If it is the case that Anglo-Saxon law in early England recognised bewitchment as a legitimate excuse for blōdwīte, then here we have a custom that has very deep roots.

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Body, Mind & Spirit / Witchcraft

The writing of “The Old Woman and the Conjurors” began as a result of a complete co-incidence. The author, whilst researching for a friend, discovered a story in an adjacent newspaper column containing familiar names and places. It described an attack on an old woman in a Devonshire village who was suspected of being a witch. This woman turned out to be the author’s ancestor, and the subsequent investigation into her story led to the uncovering of a veritable pandemic of “witch scratching” and even murder of mostly elderly women during the period studied.

The figure of the village “conjuror”, a West Country term for somebody who could remove the Evil Eye, loomed large behind the scenes along with odd connections to non-conformist and millennial religious groups. The enigmatic Exeter prophetess Joanna Southcott and her followers make an appearance along with the Leeds witch, and murderess, Mary Bateman. The longheld belief that, by drawing blood from a witch, one could negate her power was also behind the famous murder of Ann Tennant, in the Warwickshire village of Long Compton in 1875, a deed that was influenced by a cunning man who was one of the “water doctors” of Northamptonshire. This book examines the lives of these curious and often eccentric characters, their families, beliefs, clients and unfortunate victims, in an effort to shed a little more light on the more recent history of belief in the supernatural.

The author is based in Bristol, UK and has studied extensively the occult history of that region, and has presented talks on the subject for local groups. He has had other writings published in Cauldron Magazine and Scarlet Imprint anthology Mandragora and was a veteran performer with a Wiltshire group of Mummers for many years.

$14.99 US ISBN 978-0-7387-6584-6 51499

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