From fact to folklore, Janet Pereson & the Witches of Wallsend

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Cunning folk, cunning woman, Deleval, Ecclesiastical Courts, England, Janet Pereson, Newcastle, North East, North East Folklore, Sir Francis Blake Deleval, trials, Wallsend, Witchcraft, witches, Witches of Wallsend

The Wallsend Witches, revisited

In anticipation of Halloween I decided to revisit an old post of mine from 2013. Way back when I first started writing this blog I wrote about the fairly obscure local legend of the Wallsend Witches.  A gothic tale of horrible hags, revolting rituals and a dashing Delaval, all played out in the picturesque ruins of Old Holy Cross church, Wallsend.  The tale is found in print in several Victorian Table books and seems to have been oft retold in the eighteenth century by Sir Francis Blake Delaval (1727-1771) of Delaval Hall.

Holy Cross Church, Wallsend.

The gist of the tale is that a scion of the Delaval family was riding home late one night and noticed light emanating from Holy Cross Church.  Upon investigation he came across a band of hags performing a diabolical ritual upon a disinterred corpse.  Brave Delaval then apprehended the ring leader and brought her to trial and to the stake at nearby Seaton Sluice – but not before the accused had tried to make an aerial getaway on some enchanted plates.  For the full version of the tale, originally recounted in Richardson’s Local Table Book of 1838-46 but in this case taken from North-Country Lore and Legend, Monthly Chronicle (April 1888), click here: The Wallsend Witches: a tale for Halloween.

Having initially dismissed the tale as a combination of colourful folklore and florid Victorian Romanticism, I was surprised to come across an actual report of a Wallsend woman accused of witchcraft during the sixteenth century.

the pointing finger

Talismans & Charms used in folk magic.

I first came across this case in A History of Northumberland volume XIII which provides an extract from an earlier source: Depositions and other ecclesiastical proceedings from the courts of Durham,extending from 1311 to the reign of Elizabeth.  After a little digging I managed to get hold of a copy of the depositions, published by the Surtees Society in 1845. Here was discussed the case of one Janet Pereson of Wallsend, accused of witchcraft in about 1570.

Janet Pereson was accused by two people. One, a farmer called Robert Durham of Walshend, aged 72, who said ‘He hath heard saye that Jennet Pereson uses wytchecraft in measuringe of belts to preserve folks frome the farye’.  And the other one Catherine Fenwick, aged 20, the daughter of Constance Fenwick who accused Janet of taking payment for using magical charms to cure a little boy by the name of Benjamin Widdrington. Catherine went on to claim that ‘she knoweth not whether she is a wytche or not’. Despite the possibly malicious intent of the accusations, Janet herself was not accused of practicing malificent magic, rather, the accusations appear to indicate that she was some kind of local cunning woman or wise woman.

Cunning woman or witch?

16th Century image of a witch and her familiars. Via Wikimedia.

While cunning folk would seem to be broadly speaking, forces for good, such ‘white witches’ did not escape censure and in fact their brand of magic, whilst not obviously malevolent in intent, was viewed by many as a threat to the very souls of those who sought their aid.

Title Page of 7 Ed of Malleus Maleficarum. 1520. Via Wikipedia.

In 1487 notorious women-haters Heinrich Kramer and Jacob Sprenger wrote of such cunning folk in their infamous book The Malleus Maleficarum:

 although it is quite unlawful… bewitched persons… resort to wise women, by whom they are very frequently cured, and not by priests and exorcists. So experience shows that such cures are affected by the help of devils, which is unlawful to seek

Based on the information provided in the deposition, Janet’s case would seem fall into this category.   The accusation was recorded thus:

The said Pereson wyfe said the child was taken with the fayre, and bad hir [the child’s mother] sent 2 for Southrowninge [south-running] water, and then theis 2 shull not speke by the waye, and that the child shuld be washed in that water, and dib the shirt in the water, and so hand it up on a hedge all that night, and that on the morrow the shirt should be gone and the child shuld recover health – but the shirt was not gone as she said.

Robert Thompson, the Vicar of Benton, had the following to say about Janet:

Dicit that he herd one wedo Archer doughter called Elizabethe Gibson, saye that Jenkyn Person wyfe heled hir mother who was taken with the fayre, and gave her 6d for her payment and that the said Jenkyn Pereson wyfe took 3d of Edmund Thompson for a like matter.

Despite official unease over the practices of cunning men and women, they  were usually tolerated when they were performing helpful actions.  And,  Janet comes across as quite honest – she did not not steal the shirt left out over night (either that, or she really believed the fairies would take it). So what was going on?

Hidden motives

Digging a little deeper, Janet seems to have been accused of witchcraft after her husband, William, and son, Jenkyn, were charged with stealing a horse from Robert Thompson, the Vicar of Benton [1]. Whether any or all of the accusations were true or not, it would seem someone was out to get the entire Pereson family.

Sixteenth century court scene. Source Unknown.

As has been pointed out by many writers on historical witchcraft, witchcraft accusations could often stem from long-standing local disputes or social anxieties, focusing on those seen as a threat to social order, either by virtue of their anti-social behaviour, illness, deformity or poverty.  This element could be a factor in Janet’s case, on initial reading, if the horse theft allegation against William and Jenkyn Pereson was true, it may indicate that they were a troublesome family.  Staying under the radar of officialdom was probably the safest course for a cunning woman, but the allegations against her husband and son could have brought Janet’s practices sharply into focus as well.

Shakespeares three Scottish Witches. Source unknown.

One important factor in Janet’s case can be found in the footnote of the Depositions. The witchcraft  accusations against Janet appears in a series of Exceptions against the witnesses to a tithe Suit relative to the Living of Benton. Tithe disputes were very common in pre-modern England, especially after the Reformation, and hinged over payment of church dues [2]. All the allegations against Janet and her family seem to have arisen as part of this tithe dispute. As Jo Bath points out, Constance, the mother of Katherine Fenwick (Janet’s accuser),  was a the one engaged in this acrimonious dispute with the Pereson family [3] and the Vicar of Benton seemed to have been willing to add his accusations to the pile. Perhaps this dispute, compounded with any other real or imagined anti-social behaviour by the family, was the last straw?  Or, maybe, Constance simply was ready to use any means at her disposal to win the argument, whatever the cost.  The case certainly shows how neighbourhood disputes could easily escalate into allegations of witchcraft.

Janet’s fate

Heron Prison Pit, Black Gate Newcastle. From an original image by Barabbas 312. Wikimedia.

Unfortunately, the texts that I have seen do not provide the outcome of Janet’s case – I would be interested to hear if anyone has this information.  In the Surtees volume, a Janet/Jennet Pearson appears in relation to another case in Dunston in 1586. While differences of spelling were common at the time, it is hard, nevertheless to tell if this is the same woman or simply another with a similar name.

Broadly speaking, in England when cunning folk fell foul of the law, the were usually tried in the Ecclesiastical Courts rather than secular courts.  Allegations of providing charms, love potions, enchantments or even the of finding lost goods, could all wind a local cunning person in such a court, and this is what happened to Janet, as her case is recorded in the Depositions and other ecclesiastical proceedings from the courts of Durham.

The 1563 ‘Act agaynst Conjuracons Inchantments and Witchecraftes’ focused mainly on black magic and offered a penalty of death for anyone that ‘practise or exercise [of] any Witchecrafte Enchantment Charme or Sorcerie, whereby any pson shall happen to bee killed or destroyed’ they would be put to death.’  However, cunning folk were not overlooked and the Act goes on to say:

That yf any pson or psons shall from and after the sayd first daye of June nexte coming, take upon him or them, by Witchecrafte Enchantment Charme or Sorcerie, to tell or decleare in what Place any Treasure of Golde or Sylver shoulde or might bee founde or had in the Earthe or
other secret Places, or where Goodes or Thinges lost or stolen should be founde or becume, or shall use or practise anye Sorcerye Enchantment Charme or Witchcrafte, to this intent to provoke any pson to unlaufull love, or to hurte or destroye any pson in his or her Body, Member or Goodes; that then every suche pson or psons so offending, and being therof laufully convicted, shall for the said offence suffer Imprysonment by the space of One whole yere wthout Bayle.

Janet was tried in or around 1570, and her alleged actions would seem to meet the criteria of the recent legislation.  While the outcome of Janet’s trial was not recorded, it would be possible, that if found guilty, she could have been imprisoned (rather than burned at the stake – the purported fate of the captured Wallsend Witch).  Although it’s worth noting that imprisonment could in itself be a death sentence, due to the dreadful conditions in most prisons at that time.

From Fact to folklore

Contemporary Pamphlet about the North Berwick Witches. C1590. Via Wikimedia.

Having revisited the story of the Wallsend Witches and found in it a grain of historical truth, in that Wallsend did in fact boast at least one real-life alleged Witch, the tale of the Wallsend Witches takes on a new aura.  One in which real historical events evolve over time to become folk-lore – of course it would be hard to prove that Janet Pereson’s case is the ‘true’ origin of this tale. Nevertheless, it is appealing to think it forms the core: that as living memory of her tale faded, it began to incorporate such elements as the fate of the North Berwick Witches (burned at the stake in 1590) along with more fantastical elements of established folklore (such as that witches were thought to be able to use wooden platters to fly).

The story appears to have come down through the ages at first in folk-memory,  then, perhaps, permeating different levels of society though Sir Francis Blake Deleval’s constant retelling, eventually being embellished with the real location of Holy Cross Church, Satanic necromancy and a Delaval as hero, and ultimately being collected as a colourful piece of local lore, by Richardson in his Local Table Book of 1838-46.  

So, it would seem that however florid a tale may become with the telling and re-telling, sometimes there is a kernel of truth in it!!

Sources and notes

All images by Lenora unless otherwise stated.

Bath, Jo, Charmers, Enchanters and Witches: True tales of Magic and Maleficia from the North East [3]

Honeybell, F, Cunning Folk and Wizards In Early Modern England, University of Warwick MA Dissertation, 2010

https://archive.org/stream/TheMalleusMaleficarum/MalleusMaleficarum_djvu.txt

Raine, James, Depositions and other ecclesiastical proceedings from the courts of Durham,extending from 1311 to the reign of Elizabeth Vol 21, published by the Surtees Society, 1845 [1]

http://www.wallsendhistory.btck.co.uk/Campaign/Witches%20at%20Wallsend

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tithe_Dispute [2]

The Arthur’s Seat Coffins – shades of Burke and Hare?

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1836, Arthur's Seat, bodysnatchers, burke and hare, coffins, Edinburgh, fairy coffins, folklore, Lilliputian coffins, magic, memorial, Menefee, miniature, National Museum of Scotland, seventeen, Simpson, sympathetic magic, West port murders, witches

Edinburgh Castle viewed from the Grassmarket.

Edinburgh. The elegant New Town, the Athens of the North, home to writers, philosophers and surgeons – the cradle of the Scottish Enlightenment.  But entwined with this respectable façade there is also the Old Town, with its narrow wynds and closes, rife with tales of squalor, plague and sudden death.  And looming in the distance, the ancient extinct volcano called Arthur’s seat.

A Strange Discovery

Salisbury Crags and Arthurs Seat.

Late June, 1836, a group of lads out rabbiting made their way up the North East flank of Arthur’s Seat. Poking about in the undergrowth they came upon a small cave or recess, blocked by three slate slabs.  Intrigued, they removed the slates and found within, 17 miniature coffins laid out in three rows – two rows of eight and a top row, apparently just begun, comprising one coffin.  Boys being boys, as opposed to trained archaeologists, they then began to pelt each other with the mysterious little coffins.  Despite this rough treatment, enough of the coffins made it down from their resting place and into safer hands.

The Arthur’s Seat Coffins

The find was described by The Scotsman newspaper, at the time:

” [Each coffin] contained a miniature figure of the human form cut out in wood, the faces in particular being pretty well executed. They were dressed from head to foot in cotton clothes, and decently laid out with a mimic representation of all the funereal trappings which usually form the last habiliments of the dead. The coffins are about three or four inches in length, regularly shaped, and cut out from a single piece of wood, with the exception of the lids, which are nailed down with wire sprigs or common brass pins. The lid and sides of each are profusely studded with ornaments, formed with small pieces of tin, and inserted in the wood with great care and regularity.”

The discovery of the Arthur’s Seat coffins gripped the public imagination as both local and national newspapers began to speculate as to who put them there? How long had they been there? What was their purpose?

Media speculation and public fascination

16th Century woodcut of witches. Public Domain[?]

At some point shortly after discovery the boys had relinquished their treasure and the coffins eventually went on display in a private museum, run by Robert Frazier an Edinburgh Jeweller.  Although sealed when originally found, they were soon opened and it was  discovered that each neatly made coffin, contained a carved wooden figure, individually dressed – care had clearly gone into the construction of the strange artefacts.  It was noted that some of the coffins in the lower rows appeared more decayed, some of the grave-clothes were completely missing, and this seemed to infer that they had been laid down over a considerable period of time.  Theories were quickly developed as to the possible meaning of the ‘fairy ‘coffins.

The First newspaper report was in The Scotsman, 16 July 1836, which while managing to maintain an air of rationalistic superiority at the very idea of such superstitious nonsense as witchcraft or demons, at the same time seemed to revel in giving the paying public exactly the sensationalism that they wanted:

“Our own opinion would be – had we not some years ago abjured witchcraft and demonology – that there are still some of the weird sisters hovering about the Mushat’s Cairn or the Windy Gowl, who retain their ancient power to work spells of death by entombing the likenesses of those they wish to destroy.”

Sensing a good story, other newspapers followed suit offering their own, slightly more restrained, theories:

The Edinburgh Evening Post suggested the coffins could be an example of a tradition, found in Saxony, of symbolically burying those who died overseas.  While the Caledonian Mercury suggested the origin was a tradition for family members to provide a ‘Christian Burial’ to sailors lost at sea.  [1]  This theory was supported, in the 1970’s, by Walter Havernick of the Museum of Hamburg who also proposed that the Arthur’s Seat Coffins represented a stockpile of such charms, stored there by a merchant for later retrieval.[2]  However, this would seem to me to be rather an extreme measure to take in storing merchandise that did not appear to have any real monetary value, in addition to which, the place of concealment was not even weatherproof resulting in damage to some of the coffins.

Some coffins show signs of deterioration – a sign of age or just weathering?

The National Museum of Scotland boasts many examples of charms against witchcraft that have been found in Scotland, charms were in use as late as the nineteenth century.  Nevertheless the theories that the coffins were connected either with witchcraft or honorific burials for those who died abroad or were lost at sea, are hard to evidence in Scotland’s known folk traditions. [3]

Charms on display at the National Museum of Scotland.

Until recently though, two things did seem to be agreed upon: the coffins appeared to have been placed there over a period of time (differences in deterioration of individual coffins seemed to support this theory) and their most likely purpose was some sort of honorific burial.  These conclusions were supported by the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland (later the National Museum of Scotland), who were gifted the remaining eight coffins in 1901.

The West Port Murders and the Day of Last Judgement

One of the most compelling recent theories is that proposed by Professor Samuel Menefee and Dr Allen Simpson.  They studied the coffins in the 1990’s and although their published findings are hard to locate online, their work is quoted from extensively by Mike Dash in his detailed article on the Coffins, available on the Charles Fort Institute website (CFI).[4]

Details of the Arthur’s Seat coffins – tiny corpses both dressed and undressed.

Menefee and Simpson were able to identify that one or at most two individuals made the coffins (based on stylistic differences in coffin shape) and the tools used suggested the maker was a shoemaker, rather than a carpenter, as a sharp knife and not chisel was used to hollow out the coffins.  The tin decorations were of the type used in shoemaking or leather-making further strengthening this theory. Their findings also indicate that the figures themselves were probably originally toy soldiers dating from the late eighteenth century.  Perhaps the most important revelation from their study relates to the thread used in the clothing.  Three ply cotton thread was used to sew the grave-clothes for one of the figures, this thread was not in use in Scotland before 1830.  Other figures using one or two ply thread may have been earlier, but as Mike Dash suggests the date range could be as short at 1800-1830 – so it would seem that the infamous Scottish weather was to blame for the deterioration of some of the coffins, rather than the passage of time.

In fact Menefee and Simpson’s theory supposes a date after 1830 and they draw attention to the number of coffins in place as being a significant indicator that the placement of the coffins was event-driven, rather than part of a long-standing folk tradition. Dash provides the following quote from their work:

“It is arguable, that the problem with the various theories is their concentration on motivation, rather than on the even or events that caused the interments.  The former will always be open to argument, but if the burials were event-driven [..] the speculation would at least be built on demonstrable fact.  Stated another way, what we seek is an Edinburgh-related event or events, involving seventeen deaths, which occurred close to 1830 and certainly before 1836.  One obvious answer springs to mind – the West Port Murders by William Burke and William Hare in 1827 and 1828.” [5]

Burke and Hare. Image Source National Museum of Scotland.

Burke and Hare made a living out of death, selling bodies to the anatomist Dr Robert Knox a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh.  They began their careers as opportunists following the death of Hare’s lodger, Old Donald.  Old Donald died owing a substantial amount of rent, so Hare and his friend Burke decided to sell his body to the local anatomists to recoup the loss.  So profitable was this enterprise that their initial opportunism soon blossomed into a full-scale murder spree, tallying sixteen victims before they were caught.  While Hare escaped the hangman’s noose by turning kings evidence, Burke was hanged for his crimes on 28 January 1829 and his body sent for public dissection.

Mort safe in Grey Friars Kirkyard.

What made both the work of the anatomist surgeons and the murders carried out by Burke and Hare so dreadful to people at the time, was they were in effect denying the deceased the chance of salvation at the Last Judgment.  Christians at the time held a strong belief that the dead would literally rise up on the final day of judgement.  So, if a loved one’s body was dissected and destroyed it was on the one hand a horror in the physical sense, but on the other hand, a deeper metaphysical horror at the spiritual consequences of the destruction of the body.  People went to great lengths to protect their departed relatives from this fate, as the mort-safes in Grey Friars Kirkyard attest.

Menefee and Simpson’s study suggests that the event that triggered the interment of the seventeen coffins on Arthur’s Seat was the West Port murders of Burke and Hare.  They propose that the coffins were a symbolic burial for those whose bodies were destroyed because of the actions of Burke and Hare.  A way that the dead could still stand for their last judgment. So although their scientific analysis of the material used to make the coffins explodes one theory (of their antiquity) they do support the long-held view that they represent honorific burial.[6]

Conclusion

So, were the coffins evidence of satanic rituals, witchcraft, protection for sailors on the high seas, or mock burials for those who died abroad?  Or a reminder of the grisly crimes of Burke and Hare?

It would seem that one of the earliest theories, that the coffins represented honorific burials, might not have been too far off the mark, even if the motivation for them was event driven rather than an ancient tradition.

If the crimes of Burke and Hare are the inspiration behind the Arthur’s Seat Coffins, some questions still remain: who made the coffins – a relative of one of the victims or someone who knew Burke and Hare and wished to make amends?  If they are related to the West Port Murders, then, as Min Bannister of the Edinburgh Fortean Society points out, why are they all male figures when the victims included twelve women?  Could this simply be because the offering was a token gesture and not meant to represent the actual individuals?  Is it also possible that the single coffin at the top represents the first ‘victim’ old Donald, whose death by natural causes gave Burke and Hare the idea for their terrible crimes?  Chances are we will never know for sure, but perhaps that is part of their enduring fascination…

The Arthur’s Seat Coffins are on display at the National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh.

Sources and notes

Images – unless otherwise credited all images by Lenora.

http://www.nms.ac.uk/explore/stories/scottish-history-and-archaeology/mystery-of-the-miniature-coffins/ [1] [2] [3]

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/edinburghs-mysterious-miniature-coffins-22371426/

http://blogs.forteana.org/node/97  The Miniature coffins found on Arthur’s Seat by Mike Dash [4] [5] [6]

 

Book Review: Pagan Portals: Hedge Riding by Harmonia Saille

Tags

Harmonia Saille, Hedge Riding, Hedge Witch, Moon Books, Pagan Portals, Practical, Shamanism, Spirit Realms, Spiritual journeys, Witchcraft

Pagan Portals: Hedge Riding by Harmonia Saille

I have to make an embarrassing admission here, despite having read a couple of books on hedge witchcraft, I somehow never came across the term ‘Hedge Riding’; hedge diving  – yes – but that is a different story (and I hasten to add, not one usually found in books on esoteric themes!)  So it was with great interest that I picked up Harmonia Saille’s concise volume on that very subject (Hedge riding – not hedge diving – are you still with me?)

Anyway, digression aside, this is a very enjoyable and informative little book that packs a lot of useful and practical information into a small number of pages.  A great jumping off point for further study, this book introduces the reader to the tradition of Hedge Riding – an important aspect of Hedge Witchcraft.

The author explains how Hedge Riding can be used by the solitary practitioner to travel to the upper and lower realms to gain spiritual knowledge and connect with spirit guides.  She provides a concise description of the nature and structure the realms, from the divine spirit guides of the upper realm, through the middle every day realm the lower realm inhabited by animal guides, to the under world inhabited by the souls of the dead.

The author also delves into the history and place of Hedge Riding within Shamanic, historic and literary traditions.  She even manages to gently touch on the sometimes thorny issue of whether it is more appropriate to work with local deities and fauna or non-local traditions you may feel particular affinity with.  The book also contains a wealth of practical advice and personal recollections about embarking on Hedge Riding journeys.

There is a great quote in an old-ish Doctor Who episode “A door, once opened, may be stepped through in either direction” – it seems the same caveat could apply to  hedges as well  – from the outset the author is at pains to emphasize that it requires years of experience and a pretty thorough understanding of Shamanic practice before attempting this….however she does a good job in providing the reader with enough information and step by step guidance to set out safely on this fascinating and universal path.

Harmonia Saille has been practicing hedge witchery for 15 years, has authored a number of books and articles on the subject and also runs practical workshops.  She has also lectured on Modern Pagan Witchcraft at a UK university.

Pagan Portals: Hedge Riding by Harmonia Saille is published by Moon Books and is available on their website and Amazon:

http://www.moon-books.net/books/pagan-portals-hedge-riding

More info about Harmonia Saille can be found at:

http://www.moon-books.net/authors/harmonia-saille

 

 

Review: Thinking with Anne Armstrong: Witchcraft in the North East During the 17th Century by Prof James Sharpe

Tags

Anne Armstrong, Insight Lectures, Newcastle University, Newcastle Witches, North East, Northumberland, Northumbria, Professor James Sharpe, St Andrews Church, Witch Pricker, witch trials, Witchcraft, Witches Sabbat

A Full House

The Witches’ Sabbath (oil on canvas) by Goya.

Newcastle University hosts a number public lectures as part of their Insights Series. I was fortunate enough to attend last nights lecture by James Sharpe, Professor of Early Modern History at the University of York, and author of a number of influential works on historical witchcraft (listed at the end of this post).  Whether it was simply down to the continued fascination historical witchcraft still holds on the popular imagination, or the exuberantly tabloid headline from the local newspaper a few days before, the lecture hall was packed to the rafters.

The talk was a lively and fascinating look at how witchcraft expressed itself in the North East of England, and whether in this region witchcraft was distinct from the rest of England. Professor Sharpe covered a lot of ground, in what is a very complex subject, in only an hour.  The talk highlighted some of the advances in the study of historical witchcraft in the past thirty years, some of which cast into doubt some of the received wisdom regarding the witch craze. Here are some of the elements of the lecture that I found particularly interesting.

The influence of Scotland in North East England

Burning a witch at the stake. 16th Century European Woodcut

One of the determining features Professor Sharpe identified in possibly distinguishing North East witchcraft and witch hunts from the rest of England,  may have been the region’s proximity to Scotland.  In Scotland, Prof Sharpe noted that there had been an aggressive Reformation which when coupled with a de-centralised judicial system (where the local laird or lawyer could be responsible for prosecuting accused witches, possibly for financial gain) may have created an atmosphere in which witch hunts thrived.  Historical records suggest 2000 witches were executed in Scotland (preferred method: burning), as compared to 500 recorded executions in England (preferred method: hanging) – basically you were 12 times more likely to be executed as a witch in Scotland than in England.  I have to say, I was surprised by the comparatively low figures for executions for England (and even Scotland) – Professor Sharpe quoted figures of 40,000 executions across Europe during this period (80% of which were women). There may be many people particularly in the Pagan community who may strongly disagree with these numbers; but it is worth considering that however many were actually executed, the fact that anybody was persecuted or executed for witchcraft is in itself a tragedy.

One possible example of the influence of Scotland on the North East of England can be found in a rather chilling footnote in relation to a case tried by the Ecclesiastical Courts in Berwick in 1599. A man was accused of fornication, his wife was accused of witchcraft, he was let off,  she was burned at the stake over the border in Scotland.  But perhaps Berwick, with its constantly shifting border was a special case.

The Newcastle Witch Trials

Nevertheless, Newcastle has the dubious honour of being the scene to one of the largest witch hunts in England in the seventeenth century (only Matthew Hopkins and John Stearne in Essex and East Anglia could boast a higher head count).  Perhaps this was indeed down to the proximity with Scotland.  And, lets face it, the authorities in Newcastle called a Scottish Witch Pricker to examine the accused witches – so there must have been links.  Professor Sharpe took the time to explain the famous image below which shows the Newcastle Witches being hanged.

The Newcastle Witches being executed by hanging. On the left is the bell-ringer who called for people to make their accusations while on the right, the witch pricker is being paid.

Anne Armstrong and the Witches Sabbat

Clearly the lecture was leading up to the eponymous heroine Anne Armstrong. In 1673 Anne Armstrong gave a startling account of a witches Sabbat to Northumbrian Magistrates, the account is utterly unique in English witch trials.

Anne Armstrong accused Anne Baites of Morpeth of bewitching her and of attending Satanic meetings at what is now the Wellington Pub in Riding Mill.  Anne also accused three other women of supping with ‘theire protector which they called their god in the Riding house.’  Anne’s account contains classic continental elements of dancing with the devil (in this case unusually called ‘protector’), shape-shifting, and an attempt to incriminate large numbers of others (both named and by description) as being present at the Sabbat. Interestingly the deposition also contains one of the earliest uses of the word Covey/Coven (a term only in use for about 10 years in Scotland/England at that time).

Early woodcut of a witches Sabbat

As quoted in the Evening Chronicle[1] Professor Sharpe said of Anne’s account:

“One of the big things that witches were meant to be doing outside of the UK at this time was having meetings where they got together in large numbers, they would fly there, have sex with the devil and eat the bodies of babies.

“It was a Satanic gathering.

“But this part of witchcraft is absent from England at the time, apart from in the case of Anne Armstrong.”

Frustratingly the historical record is fairly scant as to who Anne was, although it does appear that she lived in Birchen Nook near Stocksfield in Northumberland and was a servant girl at Burytree House.  Professor Sharpe considers that the evidence suggests she was quite young – probably a teenager – which fits the profile for a lot of accusers.  Her vivid account of a Witches Sabbat provides tantalising glimpse into the mind of a young girl who tried to start a witch hunt and it generates so many questions.  Was she local or did she come from Scotland? (Armstrong is a name found on both sides of the English/Scottish border).  How did a young servant girl in the North of England come up with this very continental account of a Sabbat? Was the reference to the Devil as ‘protector’ a sly dig at Cromwell The Lord Protector(!) We will probably never know – as Professor Sharpe commented – the historical record for this period of North East history is very patchy indeed.  One thing is for certain though, what ever other regional/national similarities or dissimilarities, this account of a Witches Sabbat is unique to the North East.

The difference between English and European Witch Hunts

One of the issues that came up in the lecture was: why wasn’t the continental model adopted in England and why didn’t the English witch hunts reach the staggering proportions of those elsewhere?   The view proposed was that England had certain differentiating features:  it was, officially at least, a protestant country and this may have made the parodying the Catholic Mass in a Continental Style Witches Sabbat less likely (a by-product of this would be fewer opportunities for the accused to counter-accuse and cause trials to mushroom as they did in Europe).

In relation to Scotland, England’s reformation had been gentler; and unlike Scotland, England had a centralised judicial system peopled by trained judges. In addition to this serious charges of witchcraft were tried in secular not ecclesiastical courts.  All of these factors combined to create a climate where, despite the belief in witchcraft being almost universal, there was less willingness for those in control to let witch hunts get out of hand.  In fact, Anne Armstrong’s colourful accusations did not result in the accused being executed.

Altogether, this was a fascinating lecture providing much food for thought.  On a parting note, one of the most poignant elements of the evening was seeing the burial list from St Andrew’s church in Newcastle; the list that named those executed for witchcraft in 1650 and who were buried in the Churchyard not a stones throw from where we were sitting.  England may not have had the large-scale witch hunts seen on the continent, or in Scotland, but that should not diminish the individual and communal tragedy that each of those names represented.

St Andrews Church, Newcastle. Last resting place for many of the Newcastle Witches. Image by Lenora.

The lecture was recorded and should be available soon on the Newcastle University Website or via itunes:

http://www.ncl.ac.uk/events/public-lectures/archive.php

Books and Articles about Historical Witchcraft by Professor James Sharpe

Instruments of Darkness; Witchcraft in England 1550 – 1750 (1996)
The Bewitching of Anne Gunter: a horrible and true Story of Football, Witchcraft Murder, and the King of England (1999)
Witchcraft in early modern England (2001: second edition in preparation)
In Search of the English Sabbat: Popular Conceptions of Witches’ Meetings in Early Modern England

Other sources

http://www.ncl.ac.uk/events/public-lectures/item.php?james-sharpe

http://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/news/north-east-news/sex-devil-dark-sorcery—8581831 [1]

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Riding_Mill

 

 

Victory regarding the Right of Witch Priests and Priestess in PA to legally marry couples, or as Charlton Heston said in “The 10 Commandments” – “Victory is Mine Sayeth The (Horned God) Lord”

Tags

Covens fight, Legal rights, Marriage, pennsylvania, USA

Here is a quick update on a post I recently reblogged from Coven of the Catta/Blau Stern Schwarz Schlonge ‘My fight as an ordained witch priest to legally perform marriages in Pennsylvania’. The fight for Ordained High Priests and High Priestesses to perform legally binding marriage ceremonies in Pennsylvania has been won! Well done to Shawnus and his Coven for taking on the fight and winning! Hopefully this local victory for the Coven will translate into wider tolerance and acceptance that not everyone follows a ‘religion of the book’ and that there are equally valid alternatives to the mainstream religions.

Coven of the Catta

Image from Wikicommons

To quote Charlton Heston from “The Ten Commandments” I have just added this Addendum and post to my original post Our Covens Fight as Witch Priests and Priestesses to legally Perform Marriages in PennsylvaniaHere is the hopefully Final Addendum and Comments at the final end of that post so read thru All of them, and i am just pasting what i just posted there –

“Addendum 6 March 2014 – To quote Charlton Heston from the 10 Commandments – “Victory is Mine Sayeth the (Horned) Lord” – The lawyer i went to to last week to do my Will (dont need a lawyer or notary or even witness in PA so free) and to combine my deeds on tracts of land to reduce my taxes, is also The Lawyer for this county. He told me last week, after explaining what Wicca is in my Will etc…

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Lady Frances Howard – Magic, Murder and Misogyny at the Court of James I

Tags

Astrologer, Countess of Somerset, Cunning folk, Dr Simon Forman, Earl of Essex, Lady Frances Howard, Love Philtres, Mary Woods, murder trials, Robert Carr, seventeenth century, Sorcerer, unruly women

Lady Frances Howard, Countess of Somerset c1615 by William Larkin [public domain]

“She that in every vice did soe Excell,
That she could read new principles to hell;
And shew the fiends recorded in her lookes
Such deeds, as were not in their blackest books:
Canidia now draws on.”

[..]

“Whose waxen pictures fram’d by incantation,
Whose Philters, Potions for loves propagation
Count Circe, but as a novice in the trade,
And scorne all Drugs that Colchos ever made;
Canidia now draws on.” [1]

Lady Frances Howard, Countess of Somerset and formerly Countess of Essex, stares out confidently, or wantonly perhaps, from her gilt frame.  A strikingly beautiful woman, in a daringly provocative dress, she seems to be sizing up the viewer.  She looks as though she could be the keeper of dark secrets.  She was condemned as a murderer and accused of resorting to witchcraft to achieve her ambitions.  And in the end a king stepped in to save her from the gallows.

History has, until recently, been quite unkind to Frances Howard.  Not surprising since she was condemned as a cold and calculating murderess, nevertheless much of the vitriol poured out against her seems to have come about not just because of her crime, but because she was a woman and willful one at that, and there is nothing a paternalistic society fears more than a strong-minded woman.

The Child Bride Rebels

James I by Nicholas Hilliard

Despite a plethora of female rulers: Mary Tudor, Elizabeth I, Mary Queen of Scots to name but a few; Tudor and Stuart society was very much dominated by powerful aristocratic men.  Women were supposed to be domesticated, decorative and submissive first to their father and then their husbands.  Having your own opinion was not encouraged.  Acting on it, even less so.

Things began unremarkable for Frances. She was born in the early1590’s, the daughter of Lord Thomas Howard (1st Earl of Suffolk).  At the age of about 13 or 14 she was married, for dynastic reasons, to the 13-year-old Robert Devereux, 3rd Earl of Essex.  It was said that the couple were:  ‘too young to consider, but old enough to consent.” [2]  The couple lived apart for a few years, the Earl traveling abroad and Frances living with her mother and attending court.  So far so good.

Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset; by John Hoskins c1625-30

The glittering and decadent Court of King James was precisely the kind of place to turn a girl’s head.  Frances was young and very beautiful.  It was hinted that the kings own son and heir Henry had set his sights on her.   However, Frances had her sights set on none other than the kings Favourite.  The handsome Robert Carr, Viscount Rochester and later Earl of Somerset, had quite literally fallen into the king’s path one day when he was thrown by his horse and broke his leg.  James, ever a connoisseur of male beauty, took the opportunity to take the young man under his wing.  From that day Carr’s star had been rising inexorably.

Apparently not the jealous type, the King seems to have looked favourably on the liaison between his favourite and the lovely Frances.  But the path of true love seldom runs smooth, and eventually Frances’ husband Essex returned from his European travels.  Finding herself whisked away to Chartley, the Earl of Essex’s country seat, she barrackaded herself into her room, came out only at night and verbally abused the Earl at every opportunity.    Desperate he turned to her father the Earl of Suffolk to entreat her to fulfill her wifely functions.  All to no avail. Even when she did allow Essex to lie with her, he was not up to the job.  Possibly because she cooled his ardor by haranguing him so much during the attempt.

Eventually, with the assistance of her father she sued for the marriage to be annulled on the grounds of the Earls impotency.  The case dragged on.  During this time, Robert Carr’s secretary the overbearing and misogynistic Thomas Overbury had been expressing some very  vitriolic opinions of Frances Howard in a very public manner, and had been trying in earnest to dissuade Carr from marrying the tainted Frances once her marriage was annulled.  This enraged Frances who was not about to lose her man to a jumped up clerk’s misogynistic tirades and it also convinced the enamoured Carr that his secretary was now becoming somewhat tiresome. Eventually Overbury was manoevred into refusing a Royal Commission overseas and was sent to the Tower of London to cool his heels.  During this time Overbury fell dangerously ill, and after much suffering, he died.

Robert and Frances, Earl and Countess of Somerset; by Reginold Elstrack

At the time nothing was suspected, and few seemed to mourn Overbury’s loss. A few days after his death the marriage was annulled.  Frances got her man, and on the 26 December 1613 she and Robert Carr married, with the full blessing of the King (he hurried the annulment along).   The court had never seen such a lavish ceremony.

The Queen of Hearts she baked some (poisoned) tarts……

In 1615 the whole house of cards fell down.  Suspicion had been growing as to the cause of death of the overbearing Overbury.  Investigations revealed that poisoned tarts and jellies had been sent to him in the tower, when they failed,  a poisoned enema containing copper vitriol (sulfuric acid) was administered by an apothecaries boy.  All of evidence led back to the Somerset’s, Frances in particular.  The accused were the Somerset’s, Robert Weston, Anne Turner, Gervaise Helwys, and Simon Franklin.

The state trial was a sensation.  The public devoured exaggerated tales of debauchery, intrigue, sexual licence and murder involving the highest in the land;  scandal sheets, libelous ballads and verse proliferated and the misogynistic Overbury became a martyr of sorts – his dreadful poem ‘The Wife’ going through numerous editions after his death.

The State Trials report the events in great detail and give some insight into the emotional state of Frances during the trial – she was after all very young and on trial for her life:

“The countess of Somerset, all the while the indictment was reading, stood looking pale, trembled, and shed some tears; and at the first mention of Weston in the indictment, put her fan before her face, and there held it half covered til the indictment was read.” [3]

Later when asked to plead, her fear is palpable:

“Mr Fenshaw:  Frances, Countess of Somerset, what sayst thou? Art thou guilty of this felony and murder, or not guilty?

The lady Somerset making an obesience to the Lord High Steward, answered Guilty, with a low voice, but wonderful fearful.” [4]

The final outcome was dramatic: all of the accused were sentenced to death.  Robert Weston, Anne Turner, Gervaise Helwys, and Simon Franklin were executed. Although disgraced the Somerset’s still had powerful allies, including the king himself, although both given a death sentence and were imprisoned in the tower until 1622 they were eventually pardoned by the King and allowed to live our their lives in obscurity far from the court they both adored.  Ironically the Earl of Essex, Frances’ first husband was on the jury and pressed for the death penalty – hell hath no fury like a husband scorned?

Potions, powders and philtres – the witchcraft connection

Mrs Anne Turner on her way to the gallows. Public Domain.

Frances Howard was not alone in her pursuit of a handsome suitor.  Her waiting woman and confidante, Mrs Anne Turner, was also hot in pursuit of her man, Sir Arthur Mainwaring.  Mrs Turner was an attractive woman who had fallen on hard times when her physician husband died.  She became Sir Arthur’s mistress but had ambitions to be his wife.  Together she and Frances plotted how to achieve their aims.

In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries the best way to influence love matters was to visit a cunning man or woman, or if you had a little more money, visit an astrologer or sorcerer.

Frances had previously had an unfortunate entanglement with Mary Woods a cunning woman from Norwich known as ‘Cunning Mary’.  Cunning Mary was a palmist and fortune-teller specialising in love matters.  As a back up when her spells failed, she threatened that if her clients denounced her to the law she would accuse them of trying to poison their husbands.  She was notorious for this, something that worked in Frances’ favour when she fell for a scam pulled by Cunning Mary.  In 1612 Cunning Mary had a practice in Clerkenwell and Frances tried to engage her services re the problem of the Earl of Essex.  She gave Mary a valuable diamond ring to render certain services, however Mary disappeared with the ring.  A JP was called to investigate but Mary accused Frances of offering it as down payment to kill Essex.  Much of Frances story did not add up, but Mary was known to cry wolf so the JP found in favour of Frances.  However, this and further links to occult practitioners would come to haunt Frances in her trial.

Dr Simon Forman c1611; public domain

Dr Simon Forman had had many brushes with the law before he met the Countess of Somerset and Mrs Turner.  Astrologer, sorcerer, necromancer and inveterate ladies man he was a charismatic occultist who, like Cunning Mary, specialised in love matters.

The assistance he rendered Frances Howard, through the medium of her confidante Mrs Turner, came out in sensational style during the murder trials, illustrating both the superstitious horror and fascination the occult provoked:

“There was also showed in court certain pictures of a man and woman in copulation, made in lead, as also the mold of brass, wherein they were cast, a black scarf also full of white crosses, which Mrs Turner had in her custody.  At the shewing of these, and inchanted papers an other pictures in court, there was heard a crack from the scaffolds, which caused great fear, tumult and confusion among the spectators and throughout the hall, everyone fearing hurt, as if the devil had been present, and grown angry to have his workmanship shewed by such as were not his own scholars; and this terror continuing about a quarter of an hour, after silence proclaimed, the rest of the cunning tricks were likewise shewed.”[5]

The testimony of Dr Forman’s wife was equally damning:

“Mrs Turner…did demand certain pictures which were in her husbands study; namely, one picture in wax, very sumptuously apparelled in silks and satins, as also one other sitting in form of a naked woman, spreading and laying forth her hair in a looking-glass…”

“There was also enchantments shewn in court, written in parchment wherein were contained all the names of the Blessed Trinity mentioned in the scriptures; and another parchment, +B+C+D+E.  And a third likewise in a parchment were written all the names of the Holy Trinity and a little figure, in which was written the word Corpus; and upon another parchment was fastened a little piece of the skin of a man – in some of these parchments were the devils particular names, who were conjured to torment the Lord Somerset and Sir Arthur Mainwaring, if their loves should not continue, the one to the Countess, the other to Mrs Turner.” [6]

16th Century Magical paraphernalia; British Museum collection.

Such matters raised in the Overbury murder trial only helped to malign Frances in the eyes of her peers and the public at large, even if they had little bearing on the accusation of murder they helped paint a picture of an immoral and disorderly woman.  Despite the fact that her action in visiting cunning folk and astrologers was hardly unusual at the time.  Dr Forman, for example,  had many illustrious clients including the Dean of Rochester.   Even Essex seems to have, however unwillingly, colluded in the witchcraft element of the annulment hearing agreeing that it was only Frances that he could not perform for.  It is possible that both parties used the witchcraft clause in an entirely pragmatic way, simply to get out of a untennable marriage and be able to remarry.  Nevertheless this pragmatism would have far graver consequences for Frances, as a woman.

Frances Howard the disorderly woman: Proto-feminist or ruthless murderess?

There is a lot about Frances Howard to like.  Despite being born into a conventional role as a pawn of dynastic ambitions, she rebelled against her fate.  She defied her first husband and successfully had her marriage annulled (a verdict that would allow both parties to remarry).  She pursued her heart’s desire and got her man.  But, her passionate determination and impetuous nature made her ruthless and willing to take risks.  She sought out unorthodox means to achieve her ends – potions and powders and charms. In casting off Essex she publicly humiliated him as impotent in front of the whole court; Overbury may have been a charmless, pompous sexist, but her rage against him lead to the end of his career and ultimately to his agonizing death.

Possibly Frances acted in the only way her nature would allow in that setting at that time.  Bellany as quoted by Underwood says of Frances that she fitted:

“The conventional image of the sexually emancipated disorderly woman whose independence and moral libertinism threatened the basis of the patriarchal system.” [6]

Had she been born today, no doubt she would be the queen of the tabloids, but probably not a murderess.

Notes & Sources

1. Anonymous poem ‘She with whom troops of bustuary* slaves’  ‘Supposed to be made against the Lady Francis Coun of Somerset’ http://www.earlystuartlibels.net/htdocs/overbury_murder_section/H17.html [pertaining to funeral pyres]

2. Abbott, George (1562-1633) The case of impotency as debated in England: in that remarkable tryal an. 1613. between Robert, Earl of Essex, and the Lady Frances Howard, who, after eight years marriage, commenc’d a suit against him for impotency; http://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/ecco/004847628.0001.001/1:5.3?rgn=div2;view=fulltext

3, 4, 5.  Howell, TB; A Complete Collection of State Trials for High Treason and other crimes and misdemeanors, Vol II; p954, p933

6. Underdown, David; Sex and Violence at the Court of King James; 2002,

Abbott, George (1562-1633) The case of impotency as debated in England: in that remarkable tryal an. 1613. between Robert, Earl of Essex, and the Lady Frances Howard, who, after eight years marriage, commenc’d a suit against him for impotency; http://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/ecco/004847628.0001.001/1:5.3?rgn=div2;view=fulltext

Howell, TB; A Complete Collection of State Trials for High Treason and other crimes and misdemeanors, Vol II; Londonn 1816, http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=2vc8UQII-jsC&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false

Somerset, Anne, Unnatural Murder: Poison at the Court of James I, 1997, Weidenfeld & Nicholson

http://www.tudorplace.com.ar/Bios/FrancesHoward%28CEssexCSomerset%29.htm

Underdown, David; Sex and Violence at the Court of King James; 2002, http://www.h-net.org/reviews/showrev.php?id=6231

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frances_Carr,_Countess_of_Somerset

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Turner_%28murderer%29

My Fight as an Ordained Witch Priest to legally perform Marriages in Pennsylvania

Tags

Contemporary witchcraft, pagan rights, Paganism, pennsylvania, religious equality

This is a very passionate article about an important issue. Modern witches still face many cultural and legal prejudices – Shawnus, a 3* high priest is currently engaging the Christian biased state laws of Pennsylvania for the right to perform legal marriages as an ordained witch.

Coven of the Catta

Tumblr image with many sources

As you all know i am Shawnus Merlin Belarion 3rd* High Priest of the Coven of the Catta. I started my path 33 years ago and about 7 years later attained this level of initiation. There are three others at the level of 3rd* HPTs and HPSs who are active in our coven.

I and others are also registered online as a minister in the Universal Life Church which does not mean much to Federal, State or County governments, but i still encourage everyone who is part of a “fringe religion” as society thinks we are to become a minister through them and to support their cause.

Our coven has a Handfasting ritual and i can Handfast anyone who asks. But that is a Witch ritual, not a legal marriage. There are two pagan friends of mine who May decide to get legally married some…

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The Wallsend Witches: a tale for Halloween

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delaval and witches, Holy Cross church, Legends of wallsend, Newcastle Witches, North East Witches, Sir Frances Blake Delaval, Starlight Castle, Wallsend, Wallsend Witches, witches

The Wallsend Witches

Witches Sabbath by Goya

Wallsend is a small town in the North of England.  It is easily overlooked – just another post industrial town that has lost its heavy industry and been taken over by call centres and service industry jobs.  But Wallsend has a long history.  The Roman’s called it Segedunum when they built their fort at the end of Hadrian’s Wall (end of the wall – Wallsend – get it?).   Through the centuries farming gave way to salt panning, glass-making, coal mining and shipbuilding.  For the Roman’s, Wallsend was the end of the world, the border between civilisation and barbarianism, and in such a place anything can happen.

Halloween seems an appropriate time to share one such dark tale – a tale of witchcraft and necromancy.  The following extract is taken from the ‘Monthly Chronicle’ for April 1888 and it describes, in wonderfully florid Victorian prose, the supposed encounter between one of the famously colourful Deleval family and the infamous Wallsend Witches.

Witches at Wallsend.

The adventurer… is said to have been returning home from Newcastle after nightfall. When turning, up the road past Wallsend, at the foot of the eminence on which the old church stands, he was surprised to observe the interior of the edifice brilliantly lighted up. Being, of course, curious to know the cause of this untimely illumination, he rode to the gate of the burying-ground, left his horse in charge of a servant, and walked forward to a window, where, like Souter Johnnie’s drunken crony “Wow, he saw an unco sicht.”

Holy Cross 1813 (1)

Upon the communion table, at each corner of which was placed an inverted human skull containing some inflammable substance that burned brightly, he saw extended the body of a female, unconfined, and partly unrolled from the winding sheet, while around it, apparently occupied in the preparation of charms, sat a number of withered hags, one of whom was at that instant employed in cutting with a knife the left breast from the corpse. The beldam who operated as dissector, and who, with stubbly beard, ugly buck teeth, red fiery eyes, and withered, wrinkled skin, seemed the likest imaginable counterpart of one of Macbeth’s witches, handed the severed breast to one of the other hags, who went off with it in the direction of the belfry, where she was lost to sight. Delaval, who believed he saw before his eyes only a set of detestably wicked old women, fit to be burned at the stake for their dealings with the foul fiend, as well as for their desecration of the consecrated     building, determined that he would make an effort to stop their proceedings. So he applied his strength to the door of the church, burst it open, and rushed in, to the utter consternation of the assembly. Each of the hags endeavoured to save herself by flight. Some climbed up to the roof, and took their departure through the openings in the belfry. Others managed to get out at the door or the windows. But Delaval succeeded in laying fast hold of the beldam in whose hand the knife still gleamed, and managed to tie her hands behind her back with his pocket handkerchief, in spite of her hard struggles and horrid curses.

When Delaval had taken a hasty look at these devilish preparations for love and hate, charms and incantations, he hastened off with his captive, and bound her on horseback behind the servant. He kept her securely until she could be brought to trial, whether at the assizes, the sessions, or the baron’s own court tradition sayeth not; but certain it is that she was fully convicted of being a witch, as well as a sacrilegious person, and sentenced to be burnt on the seashore in the vicinity of Seaton Delaval.

And now followed the most marvellous part of the story – so marvellous, indeed, that we must beg our readers to take it, as we ourselves do, with a grain of salt. When the sentence was about to be carried into execution, the witch requested to have the use of two new wooden dishes, which were forthwith procured from the neighbouring hamlet of Seaton Sluice. The wood and combustibles were then heaped on the sands, the culprit was placed thereon, the dishes were given to her, and fire was applied to the pile. As the smoke arose in dense columns around her, she placed a foot in each of the utensils, muttered a spell, cleared herself from the fastenings at the stake, and soared away on the sea-breeze like an eagle escaped from the hands of its captors. But when she had risen to a considerable height, one of the dishes which supported her lost its efficacy from having been, by the young person who procured them, dipped unthinkingly in pure fresh water; and so, after making several gyrations, the deluded follower of Satan fell to the ground. Without affording her another chance of escape, the beholders conveyed her back to the pile, where she perished amidst its flames.

Extract from:
Monthly Chronicle; April 1888.
North-Country Lore and Legend

Folklore or fact?

Sir Francis Blake Deleval, after Joshua Reynolds

OK – first things first – apologies to any real-life witches/pagans reading the above tale with its stereotypical hideous hag-like witches – history and folk-lore do tend to give witches a bad rap, I’m afraid!

It seems quite plain that unlike the historically attested Newcastle Witches the Wallsend Witches belong to folklore rather than fact.  The tale as quoted above was reported in the Monthly Chronicle of 1888.  The Monthly Chronicle cited the most famous teller of the tale as Sir Francis Blake Deleval (1727 -1771) although it notes that even in his day the tale was well established.

Sir Francis belonged to that family of originals, the Delevals, who seemed to easily attract tall tales and legends; and himself was famous amongst other things for accepting a bet to build a castle in a day – Deleval won the bet and Starlight Castle still stands in Holywell Dene, in ruins now, a testament to Deleval hubris.  Sir Francis was also a noted theatrical and practical joker and one can imagine him regaling his drinking companions with a tale of supernatural derring-do accredited to one of his ancestors.  He was also a bit of ladies man and the idea of scaring the petticoats off some of his fashionable lady friends might have also appealed to him!

Holy Cross Church, Wallsend

There are some obviously fantastical elements of the tale: the witch flying off on wooden plates – I mean, REALLY? I can just imagine a condemned witch about to be executed asking someone to just pop to the next village and get her some new tableware and some witch-finder general type just saying ‘righto pet, I send someone to Ye Olde Collectibles right away’…can’t you?)

However even the ‘historic’ elements of the tale seem suspect, as Alan Fryer points out in his article on the Wallsend Witches.  It seems unlikely that even in an earlier age a Deleval would have had the legal remit to order a capital punishment on a witch.  And of course, in the main, witches were hanged in England not burned.  Perhaps it owes some of its embellishments to the tale of the Berwick Witches who were burned just across the border in 1590 – part of the confession of Agnes Sampson involved diabolical shenanigans in a church.

Holy Cross Church, Wallsend

Despite its historical implausibility, the tale of the Wallsend Witches stands out as a relic of a less industrialised and disenchanted age.  An age where the Lord of the Manor was the dashing hero of the hour, upholder all things decent, and wicked witches practiced the dark arts in derelict churches and could make their escape on crockery – I leave the reader to judge which of these elements they think the most unlikely!

Holy Cross Church can be approached either from a neatly kept housing estate, or via the grounds of Wallsend Old Hall.  The latter way offers the most interesting route, winding along the course of the burn, under a canopy of old trees, then up the steep steps, hemmed in by hawthorn and brambles, towards the old church itself.  You can still find a riot of nature and wildlife following this track even so close to the heart of the town. It’s not difficult to imagine that to traverse it by moonlight with dark branches casting spidery fingers across your path,  foxes barking in the undergrowth and perhaps a mysterious light up ahead…you might, perchance, meet with the Wallsend Witches.

Happy Halloween!

Notes on images

1. Illustration of Holy Cross Church in 1813 from http://www.sandmartyn.freeserve.co.uk/wallsend/wec.html
2. Joshua Reynolds, Sir Francis Blake Deleval, Wikimedia Commons
3. Jack O’Lantern by Toby Ord 2003, Wikimedia Commons

All other photographic images by Lenora.

Sources

Monthly Chronicle; April 1888, North-Country Lore and Legend: Witches at Wallsend
http://northumberlandpast.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/the-witches-of-northumberland.html
http://www.sandmartyn.freeserve.co.uk/wallsend/wec.html
http://wallsendhistory.btck.co.uk/Campaign/Witches%20at%20Wallsend

King Coal and the witch-pricker: the Newcastle witch trials of 1649/50

Tags

civil war, Hobson, King Coal, Newcastle Corporation, Newcastle upon tyne, Newcastle Witches, Ralph Gardiner, seventeenth century, St Andrews Church Newcastle, witch trials, witch-prickers

Newcastle c1590

The case of the Newcastle Witches lead to one of the biggest witch trials in England, yet the story is not as well-known as the infamous cases at Berwick and Pendle.  This is a tale of a ruthless City Corporation,  a coal monopoly, a corrupt witch-finder and how a skeptical Lieutenant with an eye for the ladies saved an accused witch from the gallows-tree.

Newcastle in the Seventeenth Century

Newcastle Keep, image by Lenora

The seventeenth century was a time of turmoil, civil war, regicide and religious upheaval; as if this wasn’t enough it was also a superstitious age and an age of dreadful and incurable diseases.  All of these factors created a perfect recipe for social and economic uncertainty across England.  In such parlous times, people often look for scapegoats….

“In every place and parish, every old woman with a wrinkled face, a scolding tongue, having a rugged coate on her back, a skull-cap on her head, a spindle in her hand, a dog or cat by her side, is not only suspected but pronounced a witch.  Every new disease, notable accident, miracle of nature, rarity of art, nay, and strange work or just judgement of God, is by the people accounted for no other but an act or effect of witchcraft.” [1]

Newcastle upon Tyne, in the mid seventeenth century, had been in the thick of things.  Burgeoning industrialisation on Tyneside as a whole had created a large class of poor and often disgruntled workers – as many as 40% of households in Newcastle did not have a fireplace.  In 1636 the city had been visited by plague and the death toll had been devastating – out of a population of 20,000 people 7,000 died.

In the impending Civil War, Newcastle found itself on the Royalist side and as a hub of the Coal trade was a rich source of funds for the king. As tensions rose in the Kingdom,  Charles I decided to introduce (or should that be foist?) the English Prayer Book on Scotland.  London merchants saw this as a perfect opportunity to hit out at the King, and hit him where it hurt most (in his pocket) so they encouraged the Scots to capture Newcastle in order to disrupt the highly lucrative coal monopoly.  The town was captured in 1640 then again following a siege in 1644 – this time the Scot’s army stayed for two years.

16 & 17C Buildings on Sandhill, Newcastle. Image by Lenora

Ralph Gardiner and the coal monopoly

Frontispiece of Ralph Gardiner’s book published in 1655

By the end of 1640’s, with the Civil War ended, the Corporation of Newcastle was now in the hands of the Puritan’s in place of its former Royal Burgesses.  The new Puritan Corporation was no less harsh or money-grubbing than the previous one, and continued to exercise the lucrative monopoly on the coal trade much to the annoyance of one Ralph Gardiner.  It is thanks to Gardiner and his book which railed against the Coal monopoly that we have so much information on one of the largest witch trials in England – that of the Newcastle Witches.

Gardiner was an angry man.  He was unhappy at the punitive tax on the coal trade exerted by Newcastle, and the attendant risk to ships and men sailing up the perilous river Tyne to pay it. Gardiner felt North Shields was the logical focus for this trade being ideally placed at the mouth of the Tyne rather than several miles in land.  To emphasise his case Gardiner also draws on other injustices carried out by the Corporation which further illustrate the arbitrary oppressive nature of the corporation’s rule.  As part of his book he looked at the brutal public humiliations visited on citizens of the town – the scold’s bridal being one such punishment. He also took testimonies relating to the notorious witch trials of 1649/1650.  One has to respect the bravery of his witnesses in standing up to the witch-finder, one woman who Gardiner spoke too – Elinor Loumsdale – had actually been prosecuted for trying to dissuade witnesses giving evidence against the accused.

Enter the witch-pricker

Fear of witchcraft was rife in Newcastle.  The new Puritan Regime fostered this fear with a more fundamental reading of the Bible especially the passage: ‘thou shalt not suffer a witch to live’ (Exodus XX11, V18). In March 1649 the council of Newcastle heard a petition concerning witches.  The Puritan council demanded that all witches be tried and sent to Scotland for a witch-finder, or witch-pricker, to assist in rooting out these individuals.

One such man was currently wreaking havoc in Berwick and at 20 shillings a head had rounded up 30 unfortunates whom he accused of witchcraft.  It is recorded that some of them confessed to use of harmless magic, whilst others claimed to have been present at Preston (a battle where witchcraft was blamed for the kings defeat).  Sensing a profit to be made further south, this unnamed witch-pricker who, according to one local MP ‘professeth himself an artist in that way’ found his way to Newcastle by December 1649.

The newly powerful Puritan’s of the Corporation encouraged the plague and war ravaged population of the city to vent their frustrations on their neighbours, and they heralded the arrival of the witch-pricker very publicly.  The Magistrate’s bellman went about the town announcing that anyone with a complaint against a witch should denounce them, the accused would be brought to the town hall and tried.  It seems that many Novocastrians embraced the opportunity to settle old scores and soon 30 people had been brought before the magistrates and their witch-pricker.

Newgate Prison, Newgate Street c1823, where the Witches were imprisoned.

Methods used by witch-finders and witch-prickers were quite brutal. Although torture was not legal in England, the accused would often be deprived of sleep or walked for hours until they confessed.  They were also subject to public humiliation, being stripped and searched for witch marks which were then ‘pricked’ by the witch-finder.  If no blood flowed then they were guilty of witchcraft.   It was not unusual for witch-finders to employ retractable bodkins to prick their victims thereby ensuring a guilty verdict – and their fee.

Of the 30 unfortunate women accused at Newcastle, 27 were found guilty, 2 were declared innocent…but it was the final woman who caused some controversy.

17C image of woman being stripped [4]

It seems that this final accused was not the usual warty old crone of stereotype, but a quite handsome and well-presented young woman.  The woman had been ‘pricked’ by the witch-finder and had not bled thus condemning her to be hanged.

Lieutenant Col Hobson, had witnessed the degrading spectacle.   The witch-finder had pulled up the woman’s clothes thereby exposing her, much to her horror.  He then appeared to pricked her thigh just as he let her skirts fall about her – thus obscuring the actual ‘pricking’.  When questioned as to whether she felt anything, the woman admitted she had not – at this point the witch-finder theatrically reached up her skirts and pulled out his bodkin.  She was condemned by her own words.  Hobson, who was a Baptist not a Puritan, and was also an ex military surgeon seems to have suspected either sleight of hand on the part of the witch-finder or simple shock on the part of the woman,  objected.  May be the fact that she was quite attractive also spurred the gentleman into action –

“The said reputed Witch-finder acquainted Lieutenant Colonel Hobson that he knew women, whether they were Witches or no by their looks, and when the said person was searching of a personable, and good-like woman, the said Colonel replied and said, ‘Surely this woman is none, and need not be tried’..”[2]

Hobson had cunningly tried to employ the witch-finders own argument against him, however the chilling response from the witch-finder was: –

“..but the Scotch-man said she was, for the Town said she was, and therefore he would try her;”[3]

The power of gossip and calumny was all that was required to bring about a successful accusation of witchcraft and clearly young and attractive women could be just as vulnerable to slander as the more obvious targets: old crones.  However in this case Hobson insisted that the process was repeated in a more decent manner, this time the woman bled and was thereby acquitted.

Nevertheless, despite Hobson’s intervention, of the remaining accused 14 women and 1 man were hanged on the Town Moor in August 1650.  Their remains were buried in unmarked graves in St Andrew’s Church Newcastle.

The roll call of victims of the one of the largest witch trials in England, was listed by Gardner:

Matthew Bulmer
Eliz. Anderson
Jane Hunter
Mary Pots
Elianor Rogerson
Margaret Muffet
Margaret Maddison
Eliz Brown
Jane Copeland
Ann Watson
Elianor Henderson
Elizabeth Dobson
Katherine Coultor

The Newcastle Witches being hanged, from Ralph Gardiner’s book, 1655

Karma catches up with the Witch-pricker

Too often these sinister individuals seem to escape justice, however, in this case, the witch-pricker himself met a sticky end. Heading into the remote reaches of Northumberland in order to pick up more fat fees for his vile trade, the witch-pricker found himself arrested by JP Henry Ogle. Escaping into Scotland, Gardner says that he was later hanged after confessing to causing the deaths of 220 English and Scottish women. While Gardner does not go so far as to question the judgment or the execution, considering them ‘ordinary’, he shows considerable sympathy towards the women, writing that “These poor souls never confessed anything, but pleaded innocence [..]”.  Gardner attacks the legality of the methods used, in particular the sending out to “another nation, for a mercenary person, to try women for witches”. In his view the over-reaching magistrates of Newcastle were just a culpable for the deaths of those innocent women and man as the sadistic witch pricker.  

Have the Newcastle witches resurfaced after 350 years?

Bones found in St Andrews Church, Newcastle – are they witches bones? Image from NE Chronicle

In 2008 the Newcastle Chronicle reported that teeth, ribs and skull bones had been recovered during renovations to St Andrew’s Churchyard.  The bones were believed to be those of the Newcastle Witches finally uncovered after being flung in an unmarked pit following their execution.  It was claimed that the bones could be cursed as a workman is said to have come up in blisters and boils following handling the bones….it seems that the even after 350 years very little has changed and people are still willing to attribute strange powers to witches….

St Andrews Church, Newcastle, final resting place of the Newcastle Witches. Image by Lenora

 

Notes

1. John Gaule, 1646, ‘Select cases of conscience touching witches and witchcraft’
2 & 3. Ralph Gardiner’s England’s grievance discovered, in relation to the coal-trade(1655).
4. Image source: https://the1642goodwyfe.wordpress.com/2012/09/26/stripping-whipping-and-pumping/

Sources

Armstrong, Pamela, 1990, Dark Tales of Old Newcastle, Bridge Studios
Bath, Jo, 2002, Dancing with the Devil and other True Tales of Northern Witchcraft, Newcastle City Council
http://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/news/north-east-news/bones-find-casts-spell-workers-1465557
Unattributed, 1989, More Ghosts and Legends of Northumbria, Coquet Editions
http://roy25booth.blogspot.co.uk/2010/02/newcastle-witch-pricker-1649-and-other.html
31 Days: Witches (A Tale of a Northen Witch Finder)
http://www2.newcastle.gov.uk/collections.nsf/display?readform&id=EEC2032B0AFCE516802574270030652B
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hostmen_of_Newcastle_upon_Tyne

Canewdon: the village where witchfinders feared to tread…

Tags

Aleister Crowley, Canewdon witches, Cunning men, essex hauntings, Essex Witches, George Pickingill, James Murrell, matthew hopkins, witches, Witchfinders

“The Witch Country”

There is more to Essex than TOWIE!

For many people when asked what they know about the county of Essex, the most common responses are TOWIE, Essex girl jokes (What did the Essex girl say after the doctor told her she was pregnant? Is it mine?), Jodie Marsh, girls in miniskirts and white stilettos dancing around their handbags and Jamie Oliver cooking up school lunches whilst chattering away in his Estuary English patter. Negative stereotypes have left Essex as almost a poor relation to other counties in England a reputation which it definitely does not deserve! Essex is rich in history with over 14,000 listed buildings, the oldest Roman remains in Britain, a unique housing style known as weatherboarding (which was adopted in America and is now known as the New England Style), the oldest surviving wooden church in the world and the rumoured burial place of King Harold II.

There is a darker side of Essex which has almost been forgotten, away from the chocolate box villages and the dubious delights of the seaside town of Southend. It is a county steeped in a tradition of witchcraft which has spanned centuries. Essex was the starting point in 1644 of the worst witch hunt ever initiated in England, led by the witch-finder General Matthew Hopkins, with its inhabitants suffering indescribable horrors at his hand; the birthplace of James Murrell one of England’s greatest “cunning men” and; Canewdon, a small relatively nondescript village which was believed to be a centre of witchcraft for an area which became known as “The Witch Country”.

The village of Canewdon

Located in the Rochford District on the Crouch Estuary, the village is sited on the highest hill of coastal Essex. Its name derives from the Saxon meaning “hill of Cana’s people”. Local tradition has it that a camp near the village was used by Canute during the Battle of Assandun.

Even today Canewdon has a lonely feel to it. Surrounded by the mudflats and marshes of the Thames Estuary it is easy to imagine how isolated and insular the community must have been in the past.

Mudflats at the Crouch Estuary, image via Wikimedia

Dominating the village is the 14^th century Parish Church of St Nicholas. The church stands on a ridge overlooking the River Crouch, its most striking feature being the 15^th century tower which was built to commemorate Henry V’s victory at Agincourt.

Canewdon Church, image by Miss Jessell, edited by Lenora

A number of ghost stories abound in the area giving it the reputation of being one of the most haunted places in Essex. Most reports centre on the church, in particular around the church porch, graveyard and west gate car park. The most widely seen apparition is that of a grey lady with a poke bonnet and no face who has been spotted floating on moonless nights from the church’s west gate towards the river. Another popular story refers to a headless ghost seen in the church who has a tendency to pick unwary victims up and deposit them in a nearby ditch. Locals also reported in the 1980s that a man on a motorbike was chased by a small demonic entity that was just as fast as the bike.

A tiny demonic entity

Many of these ghosts are believed to be the spirits of witches who wander the earth unable to rest due to injustices committed against them when they were alive.  If so, then historically speaking there would only be a miniscule pool of potential candidates to choose from, as unlike many other places in Essex, in Canewdon only three cases of witchcraft were ever recorded as being brought to trial.

The Canewdon Witch Trials

The notorious Matthew Hopkins steered well clear of Canewdon – was he afraid…?

When you mention witches, most people would immediately think of Pendle, Berwick and of course Salem. Very few would name Canewdon; to be honest most people who live in Essex have never even heard of it. This is probably due to the fact that it had no sensational witch trials which could capture the public’s imagination; the village wasn’t even visited during Matthew Hopkins’ witch hunts. It is hard to imagine that if the connection between the village and witchcraft practice was as deeply rooted as folk memory claims how it managed to escape Hopkins’ attention. There are a number of possibilities: maybe land travel was too difficult due to the extremely isolated nature of the place; maybe the village was too poor to afford Hopkins’ services; maybe the witchcraft association does not go back as far as many people believe; was the link so strong that the villagers did not want outside interference and that witchcraft was silently accepted or were the witches considered too powerful to risk offending?

Traditional image of witches dancing with devils. Public domain.

It is very difficult to precisely date when Canewdon became synonymous with witches.  The three witchcraft trials span the short space of ten years. In 1580 the spinster Rose Pye was accused of bewitching to death Johanna Snow, a twelve month old child at Scaldhurst Farm. She pleaded not guilty and was acquitted but died in jail probably because she was unable to pay the fee needed to secure her release. In 1585, Cicily Makyn was also charged with practising witchcraft and given five years to mend her ways. In 1590 the ‘Goodwife’ Makins of Canewdon was indicted for witchcraft, as this trial occurs five years after the one involving Cicily Makyn it is safe to assume that they were one and the same, allowing for medieval flexibility with spelling.  It appears that Cicily did not heed the warning to reform and as punishment was excommunicated. So only two women in Canewdon were ever charged with witchcraft, one found innocent and the other found guilty and excommunicated but (although a severe punishment in Medieval England and regarded as damning the soul to everlasting torment in hell) not imprisoned or hanged. Why the leniency? Did they believe witches could be reformed?

“Three of cotton and three of silk”

One saying referring to Canewdon states that there will always be six witches in Canewdon, three of cotton (lower classes) and three of silk (upper classes). The use of the word cotton does help to date the saying as cotton only become widely available in Britain in the first half of the 19th century during the Industrial Revolution. Before that wool would have been the material of choice for the lower classes. It does seem that about this time stories of witchcraft do seem to resurge. Does this mean that for two centuries, the link was broken? Or simply that nothing had happened that would have been noteworthy to outsiders. I personally feel that the latter explanation seems more plausible as otherwise how would it explain the presence of two men whose powerful personalities and fearful reputations brought the village and surrounding area to the attention of the outside world. I think it very likely their decision to practice in this area and their success was largely down to the strength of belief in witchcraft and magic which the locals held, which had been built up over generations.

The “Cunning Man” of Hadleigh

James ‘Cunning’ Murrell, image via http://www.teamhadleigh.org

James Murrell was born the seventh son of a seventh son in Rochford in 1780. In 1812 Murrell moved to Hadleigh, Essex and set up business as a shoemaker. Somehow about this time he met a witch/wizard called Neboad from whom he learnt about the craft. His natural skill in the art led him to give up shoe making and become a full-time ‘cunning man’. His fame grew as a cunning-man of unequalled ability and he was sought out by both local people and wealthy aristocrats from further afield. It was said that he would always ask people if their problem was ‘high or low’ i.e. did they need material or magic help. Material help would involve the use of herbal potions to combat ills. To tackle supernatural forces, Murrell would summon good spirits or angels to fight the bad ones. He was an expert in astrology and was consulted on a wide range of issues including finding lost objects, clairvoyance and his ability to cast and break other witches spells.  For instance one legend refers to his using a potion to send a ‘burning sensation’ to a gypsy woman who was believed to have cursed a girl. The potion when heated exploded and the next day the body of the gypsy was found burnt to death and the girl cured 1. Many stories about Murrell were passed down by word of mouth and storytelling creating a legend around a man who was said to be the greatest witch/cunning man who England had ever seen.

His connection with Canewdon was also a strong one.  The villages lie about nine miles from each other. It was reputed that Murrell was once engaged in a contest with a Canewdon witch to prove who was the most powerful. Commanding her to die, the witch immediately fell down dead. This ability to control other witches appears in another story.  According to the legend the Canewdon villagers petitioned their vicar, Rev William Atkinson “to let Murrell exercise his whistling powers and make the witches confess themselves by dancing round the churchyard.” The vicar refused to give in to their demands as he knew such an exercise would reveal his own wife to be a witch 2 (his wife Mary Ann and her sister, Lady Lodwick were believed by many to be part of a coven in existence prior to 1860). Apart from emphasising the traditionally believed link between the church and witchcraft these stories also confirmed for many Murrell’s position as Master of Witches.

Despite a commanding personality and the powerful aura that seemed to surround him, Murrell appears to have used his skills to help the people who came to him. His fees were modest and even in old age when he had in general given up practising his arts he would if a person was in dire need still provide assistance. You get the feeling that he was respected and even liked (albeit with more than a tinge of caution), not so with another Master of Witches, who was reputed to have more sinister intentions.

George Pickingill

George Pickingill, image via Wikimedia

George Pickingill along with his wife, Mary Ann and children moved to Canewdon sometime between 1864 and 1868. Often seen carrying his famous blackthorn walking stick, he was described as

“a tall, unkempt man, solitary and uncommunicative. He had very long finger-nails, and kept his money in a purse of sacking“. 3

Believed to be a hereditary witch, he performed many of the same services as other ‘cunning folk’ such as providing herbal remedies and finding lost objects but he was also believed to have used darker, malevolent magic to curse people. He was famed for his control of animals especially horses and legend has it that he had the ability to work at a superhuman rate possibly with the aid of his imps (familiars). It was claimed that many locals were terrified of offending him for fear of falling sick, for which the only cure was a touch of his walking stick. A touch of his stick was also believed to be able to stop the threshing machines.

Although the famous saying implies that there were only six witches in the village, many locals believed the number to be nine with many more of silk than cotton. These malevolent witches were not believed to know each other’s identities but were all under the control of one wizard or Master of Witches i.e. Pickingill who could summon them at will by means of a wooden whistle. It was also rumoured that he controlled nine covens established in Essex, Hampshire, Hertfordshire, Norfolk and Sussex that had been set up under his guidance.

Many of the darker stories about Pickingill come from the writer, Charles Lefebure. Lefebure claims that Pickingill sold his soul to the devil, was visited by black magicians from all over Europe and engaged in nocturnal orgies in the churchyard with his witches and kin. One legend goes that a young vicar newly appointed to the Parish was determined to put an end to this nightly revelry. On hearing noises he ran outside carrying a riding whip, only to be greeted by the sight of thirteen white rabbits. 4

Pickingill famously wrote “The Pickingill Papers” about the history and anthropology of Wicca and much more. Aleister Crowley was also thought by many to have been one of his students.  Many modern-day Wiccans separate themselves from the Pickingill tradition due to the perceived dark and satanic nature of his practices.

For others Pickingill’s reputation for evil practices was ridiculous. They instead regarded him as simply adhering to the traditional practices of the cunning folk and a man who was “in his later years more interested in caging (sic) beer and getting a rise out of the people than anything else.”5 Whether or not you believe in either Murrell or Pickingill abilities is in many ways irrelevant, what is important is the indelible mark they have left on the history and folklore of this part of Essex.

A walk around the tower

Various legends have grown up surrounding the church and witchcraft these include the belief that if a stone falls from the tower it means that one witch has died and another has taken her place in the coven, that there will always be witches as long as the tower stands and that a novice witch seeking a coven should perform a dance to summon the devil.

Canewdon Church Tower, image by Miss Jessel edited by Lenora

One other myth has numerous variations.  All of which can be seen to contain a subtle warning to take care when walking around the tower as you can never tell what might happen! It is believed that depending upon how many times you go round and in what direction you are bound to have a supernatural encounter e.g. anyone who walks around the tower at midnight will be forced to dance with witches; if you walk around the church witches will appear and sing to you; if you run around the tower backwards three times you’ll see a ghost at the top of the tower; if you run three times anti clockwise a portal will open and you will go back in time; if you walk around seven times on Halloween you’ll see a witch and thirteen times you will become invisible and if you run anti-clockwise round it on Halloween, the Devil will appear. All of this has made the church very popular, so much so that the police now cordon off the area to prevent investigators and ghost hunters from swarming the village at Halloween.

The tradition continues…

Canewdon Churchyard, image by Miss Jessell, edited by Lenora

Over the last fifty years, many people have become fascinated with the story of Canewdon.  Numerous articles have been published about the village, many debunking the myths that surround it.  One writer Claire Smythe in her article on Canewdon stated that the village was one of the last places that traditional belief in witches survived. She discovered during her investigations that the last six witches were documented to have lived around the 1880s. One was believed to possess imps and “bewitch wagon wheels”, another to inflict lice on those that annoyed her and a third to “fix people with glaring eyes” to prevent them from entering the church. One tradition which continued well into the twentieth century was that as Canewdon witches had the ability to bewitch wagon and cart wheels anyone who took a bicycle into the village would get a puncture. Smythe seems to have suffered a similar fate as she recounts that when she left the church

“after having had a look at the carved witches’ cat and the old altar tomb where it is said the children used to listen to the Devil rattling his chains – I found that my car had its first puncture for over five years.” 6

People visiting the church have witnessed strange phenomena including figures standing under the church portal and orbs in the church. One visitor claims to have been terrified when he saw women dancing in the churchyard after taking a walk around the tower.

Orbs at the Church gate, Canewdon 2007, image source unknown

Not surprisingly the ubiquitous Yvette Fielding and the “Most Haunted” team investigated St Nicholas.  They claimed to have felt the presence of Matthew Hopkins, which is strange as according to all records he never visited the village.  Maybe his ghost was lost or he had decided to make up for his negligence when he was alive!

I did not experience anything supernatural when I visited the village and church one Monday afternoon. The only thing which struck me was how isolated, empty and strangely unwelcoming the village felt. The church itself also had an unsettling atmosphere intensified by the sheer weight of silence (we were the only two visitors) which seemed to hang heavy around it. Unlike in other churchyards where I love to amble, investigating and reading the headstones, I felt no desire to linger. Maybe ‘witches’ still live in Canewdon, probably not, but wandering around it was easy to imagine that the tradition has not yet been broken and that the enigmatic James Murrell was correct when he predicted that the village of Canewdon would be populated with witches forever.7

Notes

1 Maple, Eric (December 1960). “The Witches of Canewdon”. Folklore Vol 71, No 4.

2 Old George Pickingill and the History of Modern Witchcraft

http://www.pickingill.com/

3 Old George Pickingill and the History of Modern Witchcraft

http://www.pickingill.com/

4 Old George Pickingill and the History of Modern Witchcraft

http://www.pickingill.com/

5 Old George Pickingill and the History of Modern Witchcraft

http://www.pickingill.com/

6 Canewdon by Claire Smythe in ’50 Strange Stories of the Supernatural’

7 Witches of Canewdon, http://www.strangeuk.com/witchcraft/item/17-witches-of-canewdon

References

Cunning Murrell: The Facts, http://www.hadleighhistory.org.uk/page_id__198_path__0p3p.aspx

James “Cunning” Murrell, http://m.teamhadleigh.org/hadleigh-castle-tour-menu/hadleigh-castle-landmarks/estuary/james-cunning-murrell

Canewdon Church, Essex http://www.hauntedisland.co.uk/haunted-churches/canewden-church-essex

Canewdon, Claire Smythe, “50 Strange Stories of the Supernatural” (edited by John Canning)

James Murrell  http://ghe.myfreeforum.org/archive/james-murrell__o_t__t_2211.html

Old George Pickingill and the History of Modern Witchcraft http://www.pickingill.com/

The Witches of Canewdon, Eric Maple, Folklore Vol 71

Canewdon, http://www.hiddenea.com/essexc.htm

Witches of Canewdon, http://www.strangeuk.com/witchcraft/item/17-witches-of-canewdon

Widow Eliza Frost Lodwick (1784 – 1861), The wife of Jeremiah Kersteman Lodwick, http://www.deadfamilies.com/Z3-Others/Lodwick/Lodwick-Eliza-Frost-01.html

Essex Witch Trials, http://www.witchtrials.co.uk/years.html

Witchfinders: A Seventeenth-century English Tragedy, Malcolm Gaskill

Essex – Paranormal Database Records http://www.paranormaldatabase.com/essex/esspages/essedata.php?pageNum_paradata=2&totalRows_paradata=411