Hill recalled, said that Turner had been employed by Tryon about some mortgages; but he knew of no particulars.

SIR T. ALEYN—My lord, John Turner his son there, fled away from me when I came to the house in the Minories.

BRIDGMAN, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Why did you fly away?

JOHN TURNER—I did not, sir.

SIR T. ALEYN—You did not fly! You ran away as fast as you could.

JOHN TURNER—My lord, a woman cried out 'Get away, and save your life!' and not knowing what the matter was, I went away.

COL. TURNER—Poor boy! he thought thieves had been coming, and affrighted him.

SIR T. ALEYN—As to Ely Turner, I examined him upon the Sunday, the day after his father was committed; he would not confess the carrying of any money, and the maid swearing it, I committed him also.

COL. TURNER—What's that of Ely? upon my soul, the boy carried none.

JOHN TURNER—I carried what was carried.

COL. TURNER—My Lord, one son is as dear to me as the other, but if either be more, it must be my eldest; but yet I must say, it was John my eldest son that carried the money.

SIR T. ALEYN—My Lord, W. Turner was brought before me on Tuesday or Wednesday: sir R. Brown sent out his warrant for him, being a person of evil name, and likely to do such a fact; being taken, he was brought before me. My Lord, when Mr. Tryon looked upon him, he suspected him: I examined him when he saw Col. Turner; he said not these three years, not to speak to him; and yet one at the Cock behind the Exchange said, this W. Turner staid for Col. Turner at his house two hours, that Col. Turner came in, paid for the pot of drink, and for ought he knew they both went together: thereupon I committed him. In the afternoon I ordered this person to send his servant; one came and made oath that he came in, and enquired for Col. Turner, asked for him, staid two hours for him; that they went both out of the house together: and this was on the Wednesday before the robbery.

William Dawes and John Rouse, his servant, corroborated what Sir T. Aleyn said as to William Turner.

Garret, Watcher, and Culley were called to prove that Turner had said that the money he took to Tryon's house was his own money, and that he was going to recover the jewels; 'if any man could say that he lost sixpence of his money, or six-penny worth of his jewels, he had two fellows in custody should answer for it.'

Pilkington corroborated what other witnesses had said as to the account Turner gave of the way in which the robbery was committed.

Tryon was recalled to identify William Turner as one of the two men whom he saw in his room, and as being the man who knocked out his tooth. The men were barefaced; one said to the other that it was only just past eleven o'clock.

Hyde, Lord Chief-Justice, then called on the prisoners to make their defence. He shortly recapitulated the case against them. William Turner and his father Col. Turner had met on the day before the robbery; the robbery must have been committed by some one who knew where the money and jewels were locked up, and Col. Turner had this knowledge. Early on the morning after the robbery Col. Turner, his wife and his son, moved a quantity of money out of their house, and asked a neighbour to take charge of it, falsely alleging that it belonged to a merchant who wanted to hide it. Afterwards they admitted that it was their own, but it appears that one of the bags in which it was, was sealed with the seal of the bishop of Chichester; and at the time of the burglary there was L600 in bags left with Mr. Tryon sealed with the same seal. William Turner, on people coming to his father's house, 'takes footing and leaps over the ditch to escape, which is a good just ground of suspicion that he is guilty of somewhat that he would not abide to answer.' Col. Turner and his wife show an exact knowledge of the way in which the crime was committed; 'Lay all this together, unless you shall answer it, all the world must conclude that you are the one that did this robbery.'

TURNER—I shall first prove that upon Thursday night, the time of that supposed burglary, that myself, my wife, and all my family, were in bed, fast asleep and innocent, not knowing anything of this business. This I shall prove, if not, let me hang and all my family.

BRIDGMAN, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—All this may be true, and yet this not to the purpose.

TURNER—Then I cannot be guilty of the burglary.

BRIDGMAN, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—If you will lay and plot such a robbery, though you are not there, yet you are guilty of it; for it is ordinary that the main setter will not be present at such times, but will then be in bed, that people may take notice thereof. But satisfy the court by what means you came by this money and jewels, and then call your witnesses.

Turner in his defence said that his name was first mentioned by the man Hill, the manservant, who, when he came home late after the robbery, said that he and the maid had been at supper at his house, which was false. The fact was that the first he heard of the burglary was when the constable came to him and found him and all his family in bed. On being informed of what had taken place, he at once went to Tryon's house, and discussed the matter with him. Tryon suspected Christmas of being one of the men he had seen in his room, and he was fetched by a constable and afterwards sent to the Compter. Turner had prevented a robbery at the same place a year since, and he set to work to see if he could not recover the stolen property by the same means that he had used on that occasion. He remembered one John Wild, and he went to look for him 'beyond the little postern between the two Tower Hills, near the Tower ditch.' On Friday night when he got to the house where he had found the persons he wanted the year before, he 'passed a fellow in black, in a large coat, such another man as this (pointing at one that stood by); he was in a black loose coat, and he was trimmed with ribband at his knee.' Thinking he must be one of the men he was in search of, either Wild or White, he seized him, and charged him with the burglary.

Said I, Mr. Tryon's house was robbed, and you are the person that I will lay flat felony to; you should have been one of them that were to rob him a year since, when Col. Ashton betrayed you all. He began with some hard oaths; be quiet, said I, I will call out; you are an undone man; I will lay this felony to you. I shifted my hold from his collar to the waistband of his breeches; I thought I had him more secure. Said I, Wild, do not deceive yourself, play not the fool; if you will save your life, let me see where those goods and monies are, else you will go to pot. We walked to the hill. I had fast hold of his breeches all this while; and yet I was afraid he might have some dagger, and stab me; Said I, be brief, you are alone, either resolve me or I will call out.

Thereupon Wild, having bound Turner by an oath that his life should be safe if he discovered the thing, whistled thrice, and so called White, to whom he explained the situation, and sent him for the money. White went off and brought back L500 in two journeys, Turner holding Wild by his breeches all the time. This lasted four hours,[45] from midnight till four, during which time Wild gave Turner the account of how the burglary was committed, which he afterwards explained to the witnesses. When the L500 was all brought, Wild and White carried it to Turner's house, and threw it down on the floor of his parlour, promising to bring the rest of the money and the jewels the next day. White then objected that the men who had them would not come into the city, and it was arranged that they should bring them to Betty Fry's house in the Minories, an appointment being made to meet at the Blue Boar on the afternoon of the same day. Turner, his wife, and his son John (not Ely as Fry had sworn) took the five bags to Fry's house, and later on Turner went to Tryon's house, where he met Gurney ('Jesus! what a noise is here in the court. My Lord, I can hear but with one ear'), and told him that he would recover all his money except a few shillings. Tryon was delighted, promised him L500, and swore not to betray Wild and White. At eight o'clock on Saturday night,[46] he found Wild by the Blue Boar in Tower Hill, and told him where the money was, and Wild said it must be moved to St. Catherine's by the water-side. Some of the money was carried there,[47] and as the rest was being moved Sir T. Aleyn came up, and John Turner ran away. Col. Turner told Sir T. Aleyn that the money was his, because Tryon had promised it to him, and he wanted to conceal the transaction. They all took the money to Mr. Tryon's house, where Tryon acknowledged his promise, and Sir T. Aleyn agreed that if the goods were restored, the old man's word should be made good.

More that that, he said he would make up the business, or he would smother it. My Lord, you have a great deal of patience, I am humbly bound to you, here is nothing but the naked truth, step by step, as I trod it. Afterwards[48] Wild came and said, All will be well. Said I, What have you done? Are you sure, saith he, the jewels nor nothing shall be stirred? Said I, You see all is spoiled; Sir Thomas Aleyn is come where we had lodged the money, the thing is known, do they not hear of it? Yes they hear as well as you, and know what is done, and some have eyes upon you. Said I they will run away with the jewels. No you shall meet about three o'clock either by the Blue-Pig at Tower-Hill, or at Nag's-Head over against White-Chapel church. Nobody knows me but you, your wife, and your son who saw me this morning.

Coming home about Change time Stubbs told him it was said that he had been concerned in the robbery, and later he was arrested by Cole for his debt to Lyon and taken to the Hoop Tavern, where he was still in custody when a constable came with a warrant to take him before Sir. T. Aleyn. He asked Sir Thomas to allow him to go to fetch the jewels, but he was not allowed to go out of the liberties.

He then remembered that Wild had said he could send his wife, whom he described as

a full short woman about forty or fifty years old, she had a black scarf on; ... I told Sir Thomas this story. My wife came to me publicly, I did not whisper with her.

MRS. TURNER—Nay, look you, husband——

TURNER—Pr'ythee Mall, sit down; you see my lord, my wife will interrupt me with nonsense. Pr'ythee sit thee down quickly, and do not put me out; I cannot hold women's tongues, nor your lordship neither.

BRIDGMAN, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—This is not a May-game.

TURNER—My Lord, it is a serious business, and I hope God will bless it. 'Pray,' said I, 'Mall go.'

His wife went as she was told.

She found this Nag's Head, she sat down, being somewhat fat and weary, poor dear! I have had 27 children by her, 15 sons and 12 daughters. Seven or eight times did this fellow round her——

MRS. TURNER—Let me give that relation——

TURNER—You cannot, it is as well; pr'ythee sit down, dear Mall, sit thee down good child, all will be well.

Mrs. Turner, in short, brought back the jewels which were given to Tryon, in Chamberlin's presence, and Turner offered to forego his L500, but was nevertheless committed by Sir T. Aleyn.

BRIDGMAN, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Have you any witnesses to prove all this discourse passed between you and Wild?

TURNER—I have by, witnesses to prove I said this, that there was such discourses between us.

BRIDGMAN, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—No doubt of it; and so will many a man at Newgate frame such a story as this.

HYDE, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—You have told a long story about Wild, that you took him by the throat, and that you were alone: what weapons had you?

TURNER—None, my Lord.

BRIDGMAN, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Had you a lanthorn with you?

TURNER—No, my Lord.

BRIDGMAN, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—What time of the night was it?

TURNER—Twelve o'clock, my lord.

BRIDGMAN, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—You staid till four, so they were four hours a-bringing of the money.

TURNER—Yes, my Lord.

HYDE, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—You took a man in the dark by the throat, that man that was guilty of such a thing, as when that you did let him go to call his companions to bring the money, brings fellows to you single; I would be glad to know, whether in this case they would not have knocked you on the head, and killed you?

TURNER—My lord, Wild had engaged his soul, and I my soul to him, that if I would not discover him, I should go away free.

BRIDGMAN—Great security indeed!

TURNER—I desire my maid may be called; pray ask Sir T. Aleyn what he hath done with my maid; he took her up with Sir R. Brown, and two marshal's men (pray gentlemen, make not a laughing business of this), Sir Thomas pray, where is my maid?

SIR T. ALEYN—I had this maid upon examination, I found cause of further examination, thereupon directed an officer to take her, and she is now in the garden.

Mosely the constable, the Marquis of Dorchester's servant, and Turner's maid were called to prove that Turner and his family were in bed at the time that the burglary took place; but proved nothing material, the maid in particular becoming confused and contradicting herself several times.

Various witnesses were called to character, and Sir T. Aleyn, Chamberlin, Millington, and others were recalled, and all agreed that Turner, when he was in custody, asked to be allowed to go to fetch the jewels, but did not offer to arrest the thief.

BRIDGMAN, LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—This is a notable piece of cunning; when he was moved by Alderman Smith and others, all this while he names no man; but now he was under an action, he would have them go with himself out of the Liberties, and yet saith never a word to take the man; he knew very well it was out of the Liberties. Truly, I think if Sir T. Aleyn had done it, I should not have taken him to be Sir T. Aleyn.

William Turner denied all knowledge of the charge.

John Turner, questioned by the judges, said that he had carried two bags of money from Fry's house to Wild on the Saturday morning; he made two journeys with one bag each time; he delivered them to Wild in the street at Tower-Ditch.

Hyde, Lord Chief-Justice, then summed up. He began by pointing out that as to Mrs. Turner,

though it appears all along that she had a hand in this business, yet nothing appears at all, but doing only that which her husband had directed; then by law she cannot be accessory for committing of felony.

As to Ely, there was nothing against him.

Then the matter is to James, John, and William Turner; I hope, and I am sure you are nearer, and you take note of what hath been delivered; I have not your memories; you are young and no persons better; you are men of understanding, I need not repeat particulars to you.

He points out, very shortly, that John and William Turner had not proved that they were in bed at home all that night, and that even if they were in bed when the constable came to the house, that proved nothing, because the crime had then already been committed. As to Col. Turner,

you see when he comes the next day, he undertakes to find out the thieves, and that only upon a suspicion; that there being a purpose to rob Mr. Tryon a year before, he goes to the same place now, he found Wild out then. He had very good luck; that because he lodged there a year before, he must have the same lodging now: It is a likely matter that thieves, as Wild is, should keep their lodgings thus constantly. There he finds him, takes him by the throat, and there they were playing a while: There one comes, goes, and brings some part of the money. After all this, the next day he must take his word to come again and bring the jewels. Observe but this; after which time as the money was received yet by a token, though he never saw the woman before, describing her a short fat woman, with a long black scarf, he must meet her, asked her what she wanted, and must give her jewels of that value: 'Tis one of the finest framed stories that I have heard, that this man should come to be thus privy after himself stood charged and the jewels brought for all this; and yet he must know nothing of it. You observe the evidences, and their circumstances themselves: The witnesses he called in point of reputation, that I must leave to you. I have been here many a fair time: Few men that come to be questioned, but shall have some come and say, he is a very honest man; I never knew any hurt by him: But is this anything against the evidence of the fact? But you have here the whole; I shall leave it to you.

Bridgman, Lord Chief-Justice, summed up even more shortly, mentioning a few of the absurdities of Turner's story. The jury withdrew for an hour, and then returned with a verdict of Guilty against Col. Turner, and Not Guilty against all the others.

On the 19th of January Col. Turner and William Turner made a confession as to their share in the crime. From this it appears that the burglary was planned entirely by Col. Turner, and was committed by him, his son William, one White, a solicitor, and an unnamed friend of White's. Col. Turner procured an impression of Tryon's door-key in wax, and had another key made to the pattern. By means of this all four men entered Tryon's house about nine o'clock, and having bound and gagged Tryon, stole his keys, opened the doors of the counting-house and the warehouse, found the keys of his iron chest, and took the money and jewels out of it. How much money or how many bags they took does not appear, but everything was taken to a house in Duke's Place, from which Col. Turner fetched away the money and the jewels to his own house the next morning. The money was still in his house when it was searched by the constable and the marshal on Friday night. William Turner was to have L100, and White and his friend L20 a-piece for their pains. Neither Mrs. Turner, John Turner, or Ely Turner knew of the robbery, but they helped to move the money on Saturday morning. On being asked on Saturday morning where the jewels were, Col. Turner said he had given them to White at six o'clock that morning.

Col. Turner afterwards restored the carcanet, the only jewel which he had not restored before.

On the same day in the evening he was condemned to be hung.

On the occasion of his execution, two days afterwards, he made a dying speech of some length. After admitting the justice of his fate, and declaring that he died in peace with all the world, he said—

Truly it is my sins, and the greatness of my sins hath brought me hither, and the greatest sin that troubles me, and lies on me, is that sin which I was much addicted to, and that was the sin of profaneness, of blaspheming God, of taking his name in vain. I never heard any man or woman, or whatever they were, swear in my life but I did tremble for them, to hear them; for keeping company with men of honour (they were men of quality, though that was an ill quality in them) was the occasion of it I never kept company with any poor, base, inferior people, with any thief, or any suchlike base person in all my life, but fled from them and avoided them till this accident. As I was telling you, for that great sin of swearing; keeping company with persons that did swear, I did get a habit of swearing, though I hated it and loathed it, when I observed it in myself, and yet, may be, did it again, forgetting presently, and not observing, being of a hasty nature.

He then goes on to say that his sons were innocent of the present matter, and asks the sheriff to procure their liberation from prison, which he promises to do if he can. He laments the present state of the world.

I must deal really with you, this nation is very full of sins, of crying sins, of sins that the land will suddenly mourn by God's hand; I have every year expected the sweeping plague to come and take away two-thirds of the nation for the sins that lie upon us.

It is expected of him that he should clear himself from accusations that have been made against him. He knows nothing of having received L20 from Dr. Hewyt's wife to procure him a pardon, his wife will soon receive a certificate from her to show that this is true. He did not cheat the king out of money when he was beyond the seas with him; for he was never out of the country. He relates various sufferings that he endured on the royalist side during the civil war, but being reminded by the sheriff that this is not a proper subject for a dying man to discourse about, he points out that Tryon got back all his property, and then goes on rather inconsistently:—

But, Mr. Sheriffs, assure yourselves, so sure I am going to heaven, I shall be there in glory, so sure had Mr. Tryon (if I had not met with those two foolish timorous officers) have had his goods and money again; there had never had one word of this business been known. It was a sad fate, that these two fellows out of a little fear should be the occasion of my coming here; but God forgive them, Stubs and Lyon I mean, these two villains, I have nobody to thank for my blood but them; and yet I do free them, and freely forgive them. Mr. Sheriffs, are you satisfied in this? Would you have me say any more touching the fact?

MR. SHERIFF—It is satisfaction to us if you are satisfied yourself.

Turner then goes on to deny other charges that have been made against him; particularly he asserts that a man of the same name who died in his house was not poisoned by him, and that he knows nothing of a 'glass jewel' which the ordinary suggests that he delivered to the Countess of Devonshire in place of another. He expresses his faith in the Protestant church, and his belief in the chief tenets of the Christian religion, and denies that he had been drunk and abused the ordinary, swearing, and boasting that he had L5000, and could have a pardon when he pleased. On the contrary, he had acted as clerk in the prison chapel.

About eight or nine o'clock Justice Stringer came to me in Chancery-Lane, and two or three knights and persons of quality, eight or nine in all; they had one bottle of sack among them, of which I drank one little cup ... and God forgive them that raised the scandal.

He then complains of the Hole where he was confined the night after the Sessions—

It is a most sad deplorable place; Hell itself, in comparison cannot be such a place; there is neither bench, stool nor stick for any person there; they lie like swine upon the ground, one upon another, howling and roaring ... I would humbly beg that the Hole may be provided with some kind of boards like a court of guard, that men may lie down upon them in ease.

JACKSON (the gaoler)—Seventeen out of nineteen made their escapes out of that Hole, they having only a form there.

SIR R. FORD—If I did think there were a reprieve to come for you I would be contented to spin out the time thus; but in good earnest I expect none; unless you had an apprehension you were not to die you would not spin out the time thus, not thus run to many impertinences.

Turner then finished his speech, and after he had prayed a little the executioner fitted the rope round his neck—

TURNER—What, dost thou mean to choke me? pray fellow, give me more rope; what a simple fellow is this! How long have you been executioner that you know not yet how to put the knot?

In the midst of his private ejaculations, offering to pull down the cap, he espied a gentlewoman at a window nigh, kissed his hand, said 'Your servant, Mistress.'... His cap being pulled down he gave the sign and the executioner turned him off.

The confluence of people from the gaol to the place of execution was very great, beyond the memory of any upon the like occasion.

During his imprisonment, and to the last breath of life, his carriage was very undaunted.

FOOTNOTES:

[42] See ante, p. 126.

[43] See ante, p. 125.

[44] 1 and 2 Philip and Mary, regulating bail so as to prevent justices admitting prisoners to bail collusively. This statute 'was, in fact, the origin of the preliminary inquiry, which has come to be in practice one of the most important and characteristic parts of our whole system of procedure, but it was originally intended to guard against collusion between the justices and the prisoners brought before them.'—Stephen's History, vol. i. p. 237.

[45] These statements were probably made as answers to questions; but the fact does not appear in the report.

[46] At this point either Turner got into a wild confusion as to time, and nobody noticed it, or the report is wrong. Turner's story as it now stands is quite irreconcilable with the obviously true part of the evidence.

[47] Turner must have said, or intended to say, that he had agreed to pay Wild the L500 that White had given him the night before, as black-mail for the rest of the money and the jewels; but nothing of this appears in the report. It does not appear from the report how much money Tryon lost in all, nor how much was found at Fry's. It does not follow that evidence on the subject was not given at the trial.

[48] Turner was arrested by Cole about 3 P.M. Sir T. Aleyn does not say when he parted from him in the morning.



THE SUFFOLK WITCHES[49]

At the Assizes held at Bury St. Edmunds, for the county of Suffolk, on the 10th of March 1665, before Sir Matthew Hale,[50] Lord Chief-Baron of Exchequer, Rose Cullender and Amy Duny, widows, both of Leystoff, were indicted for bewitching Elizabeth and Ann Durent, Jane Bocking, Susan Chandler, William Durent, Elizabeth and Deborah Pacy; and being arraigned they pleaded Not Guilty.

Three of the persons above-named, viz. Anne Durent, Susan Chandler, and Elizabeth Pacy were brought to Bury to the Assizes, and were in a reasonable good condition; but that morning they came into the hall to give instructions for the drawing of their bills of indictments, the three persons fell into strange and violent fits, shrieking out in a most sad manner, so that they could not in any wise give any instructions in the court who were the cause of their distemper. And although they did after some certain space recover out of their fits, yet they were every one of them struck dumb, so that none of them could speak, neither at the time, nor during the Assizes, until the conviction of the supposed witches.

Dorothy Durent was the mother of William Durent, an infant. She swore that on the 10th of March 1669, she left her son William, who was then sucking, in charge of Amy Durent while she was away from home, giving her a penny for her trouble. She laid a great charge on Amy not to suckle the child, and on being asked why she did this, she explained that Amy had long gone under the reputation of a witch. Nevertheless, when she came back Amy told her that she had given the child suck;—

whereupon the deponent was very angry with the said Amy for the same; at which the said Amy was much discontented, and used many high expressions and threatening speeches towards her; telling her, That she had as good to have done otherwise than to have found fault with her, and so departed out of her house; and that very night her son fell into strange fits of swooning and was held in such terrible manner, that she was much affrighted therewith, and so continued for divers weeks. And the said examinant farther said, that she being exceedingly troubled at her child's distemper, did go to a certain person named Dr. Jacob, who lived at Yarmouth, who had the reputation in the country, to help children that were bewitched; who advised her to hang up the child's blanket in the chimney-corner all day, and at night when she put the child to bed, to put it into the said blanket, and if she found anything in it, she should not be afraid, but throw it into the fire. And this deponent did according to his direction, and at night when she took down the blanket with an intent to put her child therein, there fell out of the same a great toad, which ran up and down the hearth, and she having a young youth only with her in the house desired him to catch the toad and throw it into the fire, which the youth did accordingly and held it there with the tongs; and as soon as it was in the fire it made a great and horrible noise, and after a space there was a flashing in the fire like gunpowder, making a noise like the discharge of a pistol, and thereupon the toad was no more seen or heard. It was asked by the court, if that after the noise and flashing, there was not the substance of the toad to be seen to consume in the fire? And it was answered by the said Dorothy Durent, that after the flashing and noise, there was no more seen than if there had been none there. The next day there came a young woman, a kinswoman of the said Amy, and a neighbour of this deponent, and told this deponent, that her aunt (meaning the said Amy) was in a most lamentable condition, having her face all scorched with fire, and that she was sitting alone in her house in her smock without any fire. And thereupon this deponent went into the house of the said Amy Duny to see her, and found her in the same condition as was related to her; for her face, her legs, and thighs, which this deponent saw, seemed very much scorched and burnt with fire, at which this deponent seemed much to wonder, and asked the said Amy how she came into that sad condition? and the said Amy replied, she might thank her for it, for that she this deponent was the cause of it, but that she should live to see some of her children dead, and she upon crutches. And this deponent farther saith, that after the burning of the said toad, her child recovered, and was well again, and was living at the time of the assizes. And this deponent farther saith, That about the 6th of March, 11 Car. II., her daughter Elizabeth Durent, being about the age of ten years, was taken in like manner as her first child was, and in her fits complained much of Amy Duny, and said, that she did appear to her, and afflict her in such manner as the former. And she this deponent going to the apothecary's for something for her said child, when she did return to her own house, she found the said Amy Duny there, and asked her what she did do there, and her answer was, That she came to see her child, and to give it some water. But she this deponent was very angry with her, and thrust her forth of her doors, and when she was out of doors, she said, You need not be so angry, for your child will not live long: and this was on a Saturday, and the child died on the Monday following. The cause of whose death, this deponent verily believeth was occasioned by the witchcraft of the said Amy Duny: for that the said Amy hath been long reputed to be a witch and a person of very evil behaviour, whose kindred and relations have been many of them accused of witchcraft, and some of them have been condemned. The said deponent further saith, that not long after the death of her daughter Elizabeth Durent, she this deponent was taken with a lameness in both legs, from the knees down-ward, that she was fain to go upon crutches, and that she had no other use of them but only to bear a little upon them till she did remove her crutches, and so continued till the time of the Assizes that the Witch came to be tried, and was there upon her crutches; the Court asked her, That at the time she was taken with this lameness, if it were with her according to the custom of women? Her answer was, that it was so, and that she never had any stoppages of those things, but when she was with child. This is the substance of her Evidence to this Indictment.

There was one thing very remarkable, that after she had gone upon crutches for upwards of 3 years, and went upon them at the time of the Assizes in the Court when she gave her Evidence, and upon the jury's bringing in their verdict, by which the said Amy Duny was found Guilty, to the great admiration of all persons, the said Dorothy Durent was restored to the use of her limbs, and went home without making use of her crutches.

As concerning Elizabeth and Deborah Pacy, the first of the age of 11 years, the other of the age of 9 years or thereabouts: as to the elder, she was brought into the Court at the time of the instructions given to draw up the Indictments, and afterwards at the time of trial of the said prisoners, but could not speak one word all the time, and for the most part she remained as one wholly senseless, as one in a deep sleep, and could move no part of her body, and all the motion of life that appeared in her was, that as she lay upon cushions in the court upon her back, her stomach and belly, by the drawing of her breath, would arise to a great height: and after the said Elizabeth had lain a long time on the table in the court, she came a little to herself and sat up, but could neither see nor speak, but was sensible of what was said to her, and after a while she laid her head on the bar of the court with a cushion under it, and her hand and her apron upon that, and there she lay a good space of time: and by the direction of the judge, Amy Duny was privately brought to Elizabeth Pacy, and she touched her hand: whereupon the child without so much as seeing her, for her eyes were closed all the while, suddenly leaped up, and catched Amy Duny by the hand, and afterwards by the face; and with her nails scratched her till blood came, and would by no means leave her till she was taken from her, and afterwards the child would still be pressing towards her, and making signs of anger conceived against her.

Deborah the younger daughter was held in such extreme manner, that her parents wholly despaired of her life, and therefore could not bring her to the Assizes.

The Evidence which was given concerning these two children was to this effect.

SAMUEL PACY, a merchant of Leystoff aforesaid (a man who carried himself with much soberness during the trial, from whom proceeded no words either of passion or malice though his children were so greatly afflicted), sworn and examined, deposeth. That his younger daughter Deborah, upon Thursday the 10th of October last, was suddenly taken with a lameness in her legs, so that she could not stand, neither had she any strength in her limbs to support her, and so she continued until the 17th day of the same month, which day being fair and sunshiny, the child desired to be carried on the east part of the house to be set upon the bank which looketh upon the sea; and whilst she was sitting there, Amy Duny came to this deponent's house to buy some herrings, but being denied she went away discontented, and presently returned again, and was denied, and likewise the third time and was denied as at first; and at her last going away, she went away grumbling; but what she said was not perfectly understood. But at the very same instant of time, the child was taken with most violent fits, feeling most extreme pains in her stomach, like the pricking of pins, and shrieking out in a most dreadful manner like unto a whelp; and not like unto a sensible creature. And in this extremity the child continued to the great grief of the parents until the 30th of the same month. During this time this deponent sent for one Dr. Feavor, a doctor of physic, to take his advice concerning his child's distemper; the Doctor being come, he saw the child in those fits but could not conjecture, as he then told this deponent, and afterwards affirmed in open court, at this trial, what might be the cause of the child's affliction. And this deponent farther saith, That by reason of the circumstances aforesaid, and in regard Amy Duny is a woman of ill-fame, and commonly reported to be a witch and sorceress, and for that the said child in her fits would cry out of Amy Duny as the cause of her malady, and that she did affright her with apparitions of her person (as the child in the intervals of her fits related) he this deponent did suspect the said Amy Duny for a witch, and charged her with the injury and wrong to his child, and caused her to be set in the stocks on the 28th of the same October: and during the time of her continuance there, one Alice Letteridge and Jane Buxton demanding of her, as they also affirmed in court upon their oaths, what should be the reason of Mr. Pacy's child's distemper? telling her, That she was suspected to be the cause thereof; she replied, 'Mr. Pacy keeps a great stir about his child, but let him stay until he hath done as much by his children, as I have done by mine.' And being further examined, what she had done to her children? She answered, 'That she had been fain to open her child's mouth with a tap to give it victuals.' And the said deponent further deposeth, that within two days after speaking of the said words, being the 30th of October, the eldest daughter Elizabeth, fell into extreme fits, insomuch, that they could not open her mouth to give her breath, to preserve her life, without the help of a tap which they were enforced to use; and the younger child was in the like manner afflicted, so that they used the same also for her relief.

And further the said children being grievously afflicted would severally complain in their extremity, and also in the intervals, that Amy Duny (together with one other woman whose person and clothes they described) did thus afflict them, their apparitions appearing before them, to their great terror and affrightment: and sometimes they would cry out, saying, There stands Amy Duny, and there Rose Cullender, the other person troubling them.

Their fits were various, sometimes they would be lame on one side of their bodies, sometimes on the other: sometimes a soreness over their whole bodies, so as they could endure none to touch them: at other times they would be restored to the perfect use of their limbs, and deprived of their hearing; at other times of their sight, at other times of their speech; sometimes by the space of one day, sometimes for two; and once they were wholly deprived of their speech for eight days together and then restored to their speech again. At other times they would fall into swoonings, and upon the recovery to their speech they would cough extremely, and bring up much phlegm, and with the same crooked pins, and one time a two-penny nail with a very broad head, which pins (amounting to forty or more) together with the two-penny nail, were produced in court, with the affirmation of the said deponent, that he was present when the said nail was vomited up, and also most of the pins. Commonly at the end of every fit they would cast up a pin, and sometimes they would have four or five fits in one day.

In this manner the said children continued with this deponent for the space of two months, during which time in their intervals this deponent would cause them to read some chapters in the New Testament.

Whereupon this deponent several times observed, that they would read till they came to the name of Lord, or Jesus, or Christ; and then before they could pronounce either of the said words they would suddenly fall into their fits. But when they came to the name of Satan, or devil, they would clap their fingers upon the book, crying out, This bites, but makes me speak right well.

At such time as they be recovered out of their fits (occasioned as this deponent conceives upon their naming of Lord, Jesus, or Christ), this deponent hath demanded of them, what is the cause they cannot pronounce those words: they reply and say, that Amy Duny saith, I must not use that name.

And further, the said children after their fits were past, would tell, how that Amy Duny and Rose Cullender would appear before them holding their fists at them, threatening, that if they related either what they saw or heard, that they would torment them ten times more than ever they did before.

In their fits they would cry out, There stands Amy Duny or Rose Cullender; and sometimes in one place and sometimes in another running with great violence to the place where they fancied them to stand, striking at them as if they were present; they would appear to them sometimes spinning, and sometimes reeling, or in other postures, deriding or threatening them.

Afterwards the witness sent the children to the house of Margaret Arnold, his sister, at Yarmouth, to make trial whether the change of air might do them any good.

Margaret Arnold gave no credit to what was related to her when the children were committed to her care, 'conceiving that possibly the children might use some deceit in putting pins in their mouths themselves'; she therefore 'took all the pins out of their clothes, and sewed them all instead'; but 'notwithstanding all this care and circumspection of hers,' they raised at least thirty pins in her presence, and had most violent fits. They would cry out in their fits, against Rose Cullender and Amy Duny, alleging that they saw them.

At some times the children (only) would see things run up and down the house in the appearance of mice; and one of them suddenly snapt one with the tongs, and threw it in the fire, and it screeched out like a rat.

At another time a little thing like a bee

flew into the face of the younger child when she was out of doors, and would have gone into her mouth; the child ran screaming into the house and had a fit, and vomited up a two-penny nail with a broad head, which she said the bee had tried to put in her mouth.

The elder child said she saw a mouse, and crept under the table to look for it, and she found something, the witness did not see what it was, which she threw into the fire, when it flashed like gunpowder. At a time when she was speechless, but otherwise in good health, she appeared to chase something round the house, catch it, put it in her apron, and made as if she threw it in the fire, but the witness saw nothing. The child afterwards being restored to her speech said it was a duck. The younger child said that in her fits Amy Duny tempted her to drown herself, and to cut her throat, or otherwise destroy herself. For these reasons the witness believed that the children were bewitched, though she had not believed it at first.

Edmund Durent, the father of Ann Durent, swore that Rose Cullender came to his house in the previous November to buy some herrings of his wife, but being denied by her, returned in a discontented manner. On the first of December his daughter felt a great pain in her stomach, fell into swooning fits, and on her recovery declared that she had seen the apparition of Rose Cullender, who threatened to torment her. She had also vomited up pins, which were produced in court.

The maid was present in court, but could not speak to declare her knowledge, but fell into the most violent fit when she was brought before Rose Cullender.

Ann Baldwin corroborated the last witness, and added that Jane Bocking was so weak that she could not be brought to the Assizes.

Diana Bocking, the mother of Jane Bocking, swore that her daughter had formerly suffered from fits, but had recovered from them. On the first of February last, however, she had been attacked with fits which lasted till the witnesses came to the Assizes, vomiting pins daily, seven last Sunday. In her fits she would frequently complain of Rose Cullender and Amy Duny, saying that she saw them standing about the bed. At last she was stricken dumb for some days, and said when she recovered that Amy Duny would not suffer her to speak.

Mary Chandler, the mother of Susan Chandler, swore that she had examined the prisoners after they had been examined before Sir Edmund Bacon, on a charge of having bewitched Mr. Pacy's daughters, and that she had found certain monstrous growths on the body of Rose Cullender. She also said that Rose Cullender had appeared to her daughter, who was in service, one morning while she was washing, whereupon she was frightened and came at once and told her mother; and soon afterwards was attacked by fits, vomiting pins, like the others. She was at times dumb, and at times blind, and when she was brought into court, she was attacked anew, although she recovered her speech outside.

This was the sum and substance of the evidence which was given against the prisoners concerning the bewitching of the children before mentioned. At the hearing this evidence there were divers known persons as Mr. Serjeant Keeling,[51] Mr. Serjeant Earl, and Mr. Serjeant Barnard present. Mr. Serjeant Keeling seemed much unsatisfied with it, and thought it not sufficient to convict the prisoners: for admitting that the children were in truth bewitched, yet said he, it can never be applied to the prisoners, upon the imagination only of the parties afflicted; for if that might be allowed no person whatsoever can be in safety, for perhaps they might fancy another person, who might altogether be innocent in such matters.

There was also Dr. Brown[52] of Norwich, a person of great knowledge; who after this evidence given, and upon view of three persons in Court, was desired to give his opinion, what he did conceive of them: and he was clearly of opinion, that the persons were bewitched; and said, That in Denmark there had been lately a great discovery of witches, who used the very same way of afflicting persons, by conveying pins into them, and crooked as these pins were, with needles and nails. And his opinion was, That the devil in such cases did work upon the bodies of men and women, upon a natural foundation (that is), to stir up, and excite such humours super-abounding in their bodies to a great excess, whereby he did in an extraordinary manner afflict them with such distempers as their bodies were most subject to, as particularly appeared in these children; for he conceived, that these swooning fits were natural, and nothing else, but only heightened to a great excess by the subtilty of the devil, co-operating with the malice of these which we term witches, at whose instance he doth these villanies.

Besides the particulars above mentioned touching the said persons bewitched, there were many other things objected against them for a further proof and manifestation that the said children were bewitched. As first, during the time of the trial, there were some experiments made with the persons afflicted, by bringing the persons to touch them; and it was observed, that when they were in the midst of their fits to all men's apprehension wholly deprived of all sense and understanding, closing their fists in such manner, as that the strongest man in court could not force them open; yet by the least touch of one of these supposed witches, Rose Cullender by name, they would suddenly shriek out opening their hands, which accident would not happen by the touch of any other person.

And lest they might privately see when they were touched by the said Rose Cullender, they were blinded with their own aprons, and the touching took the same effect as before.

There was an ingenious person that objected, there might be a great fallacy in this experiment, and there ought not to be any stress put upon this to convict the parties, for the children might counterfeit this their distemper, and perceiving what was done to them they might in such manner suddenly alter the motion and gesture of their bodies, on purpose to induce persons to believe that they were not natural, but wrought strangely by the touch of the prisoners. Wherefore to avoid this scruple it was privately desired by the Judge, that the Lord Cornwallis, Sir Edmund Bacon, and Mr. Serjeant Keeling, and some other gentlemen there in court, would attend one of the distempered persons in the farther part of the Hall, whilst she was in her fits, and then to send for one of the witches, to try what would then happen, which they did accordingly: and Amy Duny was conveyed from the bar and brought to the maid: they put an apron before her eyes, and then one other person touched her hand, which produced the same effect as the touch of the witch did in the Court. Whereupon the gentlemen returned, openly protesting, that they did believe the whole transaction of this business was a mere imposture. This put the Court and all persons into a stand. But at length Mr. Pacy did declare, That possibly the maid might be deceived by a suspicion that the witch touched her when she did not. For he had observed divers times, that although they could not speak, but were deprived of the use of their tongues and limbs, that their understandings were perfect, for that they had related divers things which have been when they were in their fits, after they had recovered out of them. This saying of Mr. Pacy was found to be true afterwards when his daughter was fully recovered (as she afterwards was) as shall in due time be related: For she was asked, whether she did hear and understand anything that was done and acted in the Court, during the time that she lay as one deprived of her understanding? and she said, She did: and by the opinions of some, this experiment (which others would have a fallacy) was rather a confirmation that the parties were really bewitched, than otherwise: for say they, it is not possible that any should counterfeit such distempers, being acquainted with such various circumstances, much less children; and for so long time, and yet undiscovered by their parents and relations: For no man can suppose that they should all conspire together (being out of several families, and as they affirm, no way related one to the other, and scarce of familiar acquaintance) to do an act of this nature whereby no benefit or advantage could redound to any of the parties, but a guilty conscience for perjuring themselves in taking the lives of two poor simple women away, and there appears no malice in the case. For the prisoners themselves did scarce so much as object it. Wherefore, said they, it is very evident that the parties were bewitched, and that when they apprehend or understand by any means, that the persons who have done them this wrong are near, or touch them; then their spirits being more than ordinarily moved with rage and anger at them being present, they do use more violent gestures of their bodies, and extend forth their hands, as desirous to lay hold upon them; which at other times not having the same occasion, the instance there falls not out the same.

Additional witnesses were afterwards called to prove other acts of witchcraft by the prisoners.

John Soam,'a yeoman, and a sufficient person,' deposed that one harvest he had three carts, and that as they were going into the field to load, one of them wrenched the window of Rose Cullender's house, whereupon she came out in a great rage, and threatened him. Afterwards the two carts that had not touched the house twice made the journey home loaded and back again, safely. But the cart that had touched the house was overturned twice or thrice that day after it was loaded; and as they brought it through the gate out of the field it stuck so fast that they had to cut down the gate-post, 'although they could not perceive that the cart did of either side touch the gate-posts.' And further,

after they had got it through the gate-way, they did with much difficulty get it home into the yard; but for all that they could do, they could not get the cart near unto the place where they should unload the corn, but were fain to unload it at a great distance from the place, and when they began to unload they found a great difficulty therein, it being so hard a labour that they were tired that first came; and when others came to assist them, their noses burst forth a bleeding; so they were fain to desist and leave it until the next morning, and then they unloaded it without any difficulty at all.

Robert Sherringham swore that about two years before, as he was passing along the street with his cart and horse, the axle-tree of his cart touched Rose Cullender's house, and broke down some part of it, at which she was very much displeased, threatening him that his horses should suffer for it;

and it so happened that all those horses, being four in number, died within a short time after; since that time he hath had great losses by the sudden dying of his other cattle; so soon as his sows pigged, the pigs would leap and caper, and immediately fall down and die. Also not long after he was taken with a lameness in his limbs that he could neither go nor stand for some days. After all this, he was very much vexed with great number of lice of an extraordinary bigness, and although he many times shifted himself, yet he was not anything the better, but would swarm again with them; so that in the conclusion he was forced to burn all his clothes, being two suits of apparel, and then was clean from them.

Richard Spencer, about the first of September last, heard Amy Duny say that the devil would not let her rest until she was revenged on the wife of one Cornelius Sandeswell.

Ann Sandeswell says that seven or eight years since,

she having bought a certain number of geese, meeting with Amy Duny, she told her, if she did not fetch her geese home they would all be destroyed; which in a few days after it came to pass.

Afterwards the said Amy became tenant to the witness's husband for a house, and Amy told the witness that if she did not look well to such a chimney in the house it would fall, whereupon the witness told her that it was a new one, and they parted without the witness attaching much importance to the matter;

but in a short time the chimney fell down according as the said Amy had said.

Also the witness once asked her brother, who was a fisherman, to send her a firkin of fish, which he did; and she hearing that the firkin was brought into Lowestofft Road, asked a boatman to bring it ashore with other goods which they had to bring;

and as she was going down to meet the boat-man to receive her fish, she desired the said Amy to go along with her to help her home with it; Amy replied she would go when she had it. And thereupon this deponent went to the shore without her, and demanded of the boat-man the firkin; they told they could not keep it in the boat from falling into the sea, and they thought it was gone to the devil, for they never saw the like before. And being demanded whether any other goods in the boat were likewise lost as well as hers? they answered not any.

This was the substance of the whole evidence given against the prisoners at the bar; who being demanded, what they had to say for themselves? they replied, nothing material to anything that was proved against them. Whereupon the judge, in giving his direction to the jury, told them, that he would not repeat the evidence unto them, lest by so doing he should wrong the evidence on the one side or on the other.

Only this acquainted them, that they had two things to enquire after. First, Whether or no these children were bewitched? Secondly, Whether the prisoners at the bar were guilty of it?

That there were such creatures as witches he made no doubt at all; For first, the scriptures had affirmed so much. Secondly the wisdom of all nations had provided laws against such persons, which is an argument of their confidence of such a crime.

And such hath been the judgment of this kingdom, as appears by that act of parliament which hath provided punishments proportionable to the quality of the offence. And desired them, strictly to observe their evidence; and desired the great God of heaven to direct their hearts in this weighty thing they had in hand: For to condemn the innocent, and to let the guilty go free, were both an abomination to the Lord. With this short direction the jury departed from the bar, and within the space of half an hour returned, and brought them in both Guilty upon the several indictments, which were thirteen in number, whereupon they stood indicted.

This was upon Thursday in the afternoon, March 13, 1665. The next morning, the three children with their parents came to the Lord Chief-Baron Hales's lodging, who all of them spake perfectly, and were in as good health as ever they were; only Susan Chandler by reason of her very much affliction did look very thin and wan. And their friends were asked at what time they were restored thus to their speech and health? And Mr. Pacy did affirm, That within less than half an hour after the witches were convicted they were all of them restored, and slept well that night, feeling no pain; only Susan Chandler felt a pain like pricking of pins in her stomach.

After, they were all of them brought down to the court, but Ann Durent was so fearful to behold them, that she desired she might not see them. The other two continued in the court, and they affirmed in the face of the country, and before the witches themselves, what before hath been deposed by their friends and relations; the prisoners not much contradicting them. In conclusion, the judge and all the court were fully satisfied with the verdict, and thereupon gave judgment against the witches that they should be hanged.

They were much urged to confess, but would not.

That morning we departed for Cambridge, but no reprieve was granted; And they were executed on Monday the 17th of March following, but they confessed nothing.

FOOTNOTES:

[49] Witchcraft, always an ecclesiastical offence, was first made a statutory crime by 33 Hen. VIII. (1541), which Hutchinson suggests was intended as 'a hank upon the reformers,' by reason of the part which mentioned the pulling down of crosses. This act was repealed on the accession of Edward VI., but was revived by 5 Eliz. c. 16 in a slightly different form. Hutchinson mentions five convictions under this statute between 1560 and 1597. A new act was passed in 1603, the first year of the reign of James I. Under it seventeen persons were condemned to death in Lancashire in 1634 on the evidence of one witness, who afterwards admitted his imposture. Their lives were saved by the judge who tried the case. In the eastern counties about fifty persons were executed in 1644 and 1645. Various other cases were tried throughout the seventeenth century, of which a list is given by Hutchinson, and the last conviction took place in 1712, at Hertford, but the prisoner was pardoned. The act of James was repealed in 1736, when it was enacted that no more prosecutions for witchcraft should take place, but that pretending to exercise witchcraft, and so forth, should be offences punishable on the same scale as other acts of petty cheating. Further information on the subject may be found in Hutchinson's Essay on Witchcraft; and an account of the very curious outburst of prosecutions for witchcraft in New England about the time of this trial, and, it is said, partly in consequence of it, may be found in Howell's State Trials, vol vi. pp. 647-686. In those parts of the British Empire where there is a large population of negroes, it has been found necessary to make stringent laws against witchcraft, which are regarded by the persons most affected by them as something much more than a protection against mere cheats.

[50] Sir Matthew Hale (1609-1676) was the grandson of a Gloucestershire weaver. He was educated as a Puritan and entered Magdalen Hall, Oxford, in 1626. He here suddenly dropped his Puritan habits, and would have become a soldier in the Low Countries, but that, having to consult the learned Glanville as to legal proceedings taken against him which endangered his patrimony, he was persuaded to become a law student. He again resumed a quiet method of life, and owing to the slovenliness of his dress narrowly escaped being shipped to the West Indies by a press-gang. He was called in 1637, and already enjoying a considerable reputation at once acquired a lucrative practice. He devilled for Noy, but according to Campbell refused to follow him when he joined the Court party. He kept clear of politics at the beginning of the Long Parliament, though courted by both sides. He is said to have taken part in Strafford's defence; he certainly defended Laud. He took the Covenant in 1644, and sat in the Westminster Assembly of Divines. He procured honourable terms for the garrison of Oxford on the capture of that town. He took the engagement to be true to the Commonwealth in 1649, and continued to practise, often appearing for the defence in State prosecutions; particularly for the Duke of Hamilton after the battle of Worcester. He took a prominent part in the Commission appointed to reform the laws, which abolished feudal tenures and caused all legal proceedings to be conducted in English. He became a Justice of the Common Pleas in 1654, when he was occasionally brought into opposition to the government. At last he refused to try criminal causes; particularly that of Colonel Penruddock (see post, p. 59). He supported Cromwell against the sectaries. He was summoned to act as assessor to Cromwell's House of Lords; but refused to act as a judge under Richard Cromwell, though he sat in his Parliament. He sat for Gloucestershire in the Convention Parliament, and took an active part in the Restoration. He sat at the trial of the Regicides, though not at Vane's. On Bridgman becoming Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas in 1660, Hale succeeded him as Chief-Baron, his appointment being due, it is said, to Clarendon's scheme for having the Comprehension Bill, which he had drafted, defeated. He became Lord Chief-Justice in 1671, in succession to Kelyng. He has the reputation of being one of the greatest judges in English history. He settled satisfactorily all claims arising out of the rebuilding of London after the great fire; he found himself unable to help Bunyan, whom he considered to have been unjustly imprisoned, thereby, according to Campbell, being entitled to some of the credit attaching to the production of The Pilgrim's Progress. On the failure of his health he retired from the bench in 1676. It may be of interest to quote Campbell's opinion of his conduct of the present trial. 'I wish to God,' says that author, 'I could as successfully' (as he has done in Bunyan's case) 'defend the conduct of Sir Matthew Hale in a case to which I most reluctantly refer, but which I dare not, like Bishop Burnet, pass over unnoticed—I mean the famous trial before him, at Bury St. Edmunds, for witchcraft. I fostered a hope that I should have been able, by strict inquiry, to contradict, or mitigate, the hallucination under which he is generally supposed to have then laboured, and which has clouded his fame—even in some degree impairing the usefulness of that bright example of Christian piety which he has left for the edification of mankind. But I am much concerned to say, that a careful perusal of the proceedings and of the evidence shows that upon this occasion he was not only under the influence of the most vulgar credulity, but that he violated the plainest rules of justice, and that he really was the murderer of two innocent women.... Had the miserable wretches, indicted for witchcraft before Sir Matthew Hale, pleaded guilty, or specifically confessed the acts of supernatural agency imputed to them, or if there had been witnesses who had given evidence, however improbable it might be, to substantiate the offence, I should hardly have regarded the Judge with less reverence because he pronounced sentence of death upon the unhappy victims of superstition, and sent them to the stake, or the gibbet. But they resolutely persisted in asserting their innocence, and there was not only no evidence against them which ought to have weighed in the mind of any reasonable man who believed in witchcraft, but during the trial the imposture practised by the prosecutors was detected and exposed.' 'Hale's motives were most laudable; but he furnishes a memorable instance of the mischiefs originating from superstition. He was afraid of an acquittal or of a pardon, lest countenance should be given to a disbelief in witchcraft, which he considered tantamount to a disbelief in Christianity. The following Sunday he wrote a "Meditation concerning the mercy of God in preserving us from the malice and power of Evil Angels," in which he refers, with extreme complacency, to the trial over which he had presided at Bury St. Edmunds.'

[51] See ante, p. 127.

[52] Sir Thomas Browne (1605-1682) was the well-known author of Religio Medici, published in 1642; Vulgar Errors, published in 1646; and numerous other mystic, pseudo-scientific and philosophical works. Mr. Leslie Stephen (Hours in a Library, vol. ii. p. 11) writes of him: 'Obviously we shall find in Sir Thomas Browne no inexorably severe guide to truth; he will not too sternly reject the amusing because it happens to be slightly improbable, or doubt an authority because he sometimes sanctions a mass of absurd fables.' So he more or less believed in the griffin, the phoenix, and the dragon: he knew that the elephant had no joints, and was caught by cutting down the tree against which he leant in sleep; that the pelican pierced its breast for the good of its young; that storks refused to live except in republics or free states; and that men were struck dumb, literally dumb, by the sight of a wolf: he discusses what would have happened had Adam eaten the apple of the Tree of Life before that of the Tree of Knowledge; he discovers error in every recorded speech but one delivered before the Flood; he admits that the phoenix is mentioned in holy writers, and alluded to in Job and the Psalms, but nevertheless adduces eight reasons for not believing in his existence, of which one is that no one has seen one, another that in the Scriptures the word translated phoenix also means a palm-tree, another that he could neither enter the ark in a pair, nor increase and multiply. At the same time, he probably possessed a considerable knowledge of physical science, and holds a high, though peculiar, position in English literature. Evidently he was not a suitable witness in the present case, and his appearance as recorded above is far the most unamiable thing known of him; but it is possible that his neighbours did not take him more seriously as a trustworthy authority than do his modern critics.



ALICE LISLE

Alice Lisle was the daughter and heiress of Sir White Bechenshaw of Moyles Court, Ellingham, Hants, the scene of the principal facts referred to in this trial. The house is still standing. In 1630 she became the second wife of John Lisle; he was called to the bar, and became a bencher of the Middle Temple. He sat in the Long Parliament for Winchester, was one of the managers of Charles I.'s trial, and is said to have drawn up the form of the sentence. He became President of the High Court of Justice in 1654, sat in the Parliament of that year, and was appointed one of the Commissioners of the Exchequer. He appears to have been a consistent follower of Cromwell, and became a member of his House of Lords in 1657. He left England on the Restoration and fled to Lausanne, where he was murdered by an Irish Royalist in 1664. He sentenced John Penruddock, the father of the Colonel Penruddock of this trial, to death in 1655 for his participation in an unsuccessful rising against the Commonwealth in Wiltshire.

Alice Lisle, commonly called Lady Lisle, was tried for high treason at Winchester on 27th August 1685, before Lord Chief-Justice Jeffreys,[53] during his notorious 'Bloody Assize.' The charge against her was that knowing one George Hicks, a popular dissenting minister, to have been in Monmouth's army at Sedgemoor she entertained and concealed him in her house at Moyles Court. To convict her it was necessary to prove that Hicks had been in Monmouth's army, that she knew it, and that she entertained and concealed him. The prosecution was conducted by Pollexfen,[54] Mundy, and Corriton, as far at least as it was not conducted by Jeffreys. Lady Lisle, according to the custom of the time, was not allowed counsel, though no doubt she had opportunities for receiving legal advice during the course of the trial. Hicks was afterwards tried, and hanged at Glastonbury.[55]

The first three witnesses were Pope, Fitzherbert, and Taylor, who were visited by Hicks and Monmouth's chaplain, apparently for more or less charitable purposes, when they were prisoners to Monmouth's Army in Sir Thomas Bridge's stables at Keynsham. Two of them also spoke to having seen him actually in Monmouth's Army.

James Dunne was then sworn.

POLLEXFEN—If your lordship please to observe, the times will fall out to be very material in this case: the battle at Kings-Edgemore was the sixth of July; three or four days afterwards was the taking of Monmouth, and my lord Grey at Ringwood; upon the 26th of July, ten or twelve days after the taking of Monmouth, was this message sent by Dunne to Mrs. Lisle: so we call Dunne to prove what message he carried upon the 26th, and what answer was returned; he will tell you that Tuesday was the time appointed for them to come, in the night, and all the other circumstances. But withal, I must acquaint your lordship, that this fellow, Dunne, is a very unwilling witness; and therefore with submission to your lordship, we do humbly desire your lordship would please to examine him a little the more strictly.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—You say well: Hark you, friend, I would take notice of something to you, by the way, and you would do well to mind what I say to you. According as the counsel that are here for the King seem to insinuate, you were employed as a messenger between these persons, one whereof has already been proved a notorious rebel, and the other is the prisoner at the bar, and your errand was to procure a reception at her house for him.

DUNNE—My lord, I did so.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Very well. Now mark what I say to you, friend: I would not by any means in the world endeavour to fright you into anything, or any ways tempt you to tell an untruth, but provoke you to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, that is the business we come about here. Know, friend, there is no religion that any man can pretend to, can give a countenance to lying, or can dispense with telling the truth: Thou hast a precious immortal soul, and there is nothing in the world equal to it in value: There is no relation to thy mistress, if she be so; no relation to thy friend; nay, to thy father or thy child; nay, not all the temporal relations in the world can be equal to thy precious immortal soul. Consider that the Great God of Heaven and Earth, before whose tribunal thou, and we, and all persons are to stand at the last day, will call thee to an account for the rescinding his truth, and take vengeance of thee for every falshood thou tellest. I charge thee therefore, as thou wilt answer it to the Great God, the judge of all the earth, that thou do not dare to waver one tittle from the truth, upon any account or pretence whatsoever: For though it were to save thy life, yet the value of thy precious and immortal soul is much greater, than that thou shouldst forfeit it for the saving of any the most precious outward blessing thou dost enjoy; for that God of Heaven may justly strike thee into eternal flames, and make thee drop into the bottomless lake of fire and brimstone, if thou offer to deviate the least from the truth, and nothing but the truth. According to the command of that oath that thou hast taken, tell us who employed you, when you were employed, and where? Who caused you to go on this message, and what the message was? For I tell thee God is not to be mocked, and thou canst not deceive him, though thou mayst us. But I assure you if I catch you prevaricating in any the least tittle (and perhaps I know more than you think I do; no, none of your saints can save your soul, nor shall they save your body neither) I will be sure to punish every variation from the truth that you are guilty of.

Now come and tell us, how you came to be employed upon such a message, what your errand was, and what was the issue and result of it?

Dunne then proceeds to depose that a man came to his house to desire him to go with a message to Lady Lisle; he came on a Friday, after the battle; he was a short black man, and promised a good reward. On Saturday Dunne went to Moyles Court, and Lady Lisle agreed to receive Hicks on Tuesday evening. He was pressed as to whether she asked if he knew Hicks—

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Why dost thou think that she would entertain any one she had no knowledge of merely upon thy message? Mr. Dunne! Mr. Dunne! have a care, it may be more is known of this matter than you think for.[56]

DUNNE—My Lord, I tell you the truth.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Ay, to be sure you do, do not let me take you prevaricating!

DUNNE—My Lord, I speak nothing but the truth.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Well, I only bid you have a care, truth never wants a subterfuge, it always loves to appear naked, it needs no enamel, nor any covering; but lying and snivelling, and canting, and Hicksing, always appear in masquerade. Come, go on with your evidence.

Dunne then proceeds—he went home, arriving on Sunday, and gave his message to the man he first saw, and on Tuesday morning he, and a 'full fat black man,' and a 'thin black man,' came to his house at seven in the morning. Starting with two of them whom he had not seen before, but identified as Hicks and Nelthorp, at eleven, he took them by way of Deverel, Chilmark and Sutton to Salisbury Plain, where one Barter met them to guide them on, by Chalk, Rochesborne and Fordingbridge. This way he alleged, apparently falsely, was a shorter way than he had taken on Saturday. Near Barton, however, they lost their way, and Dunne was sent down to the village to a man to tell him that one Hicks desired to speak to him. Who the man was, he hesitated to say.

DUNNE—His name, my Lord, I cannot rightly tell for the present.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Prithee recollect thyself: indeed thou canst tell us if thou wilt.

DUNNE—My Lord, I can go to the house again if I were at liberty.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—I believe it, and so could I; but really neither you nor I can be spared at present; therefore prithee do us the kindness now to tell us his name.

DUNNE—My Lord, I think his name was Fane.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Thou sayest right, his name was Fane truly, thou seest I know something of the matter.[57]

Dunne brought Fane to Hicks, who asked him the way to Mrs. Lisle's.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Now tell us what kind of man that was, that desired this of Mr. Fane?

DUNNE—My Lord, it was the full fat black man.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Now we have got him out, now we know which was Hicks, now go on.

On arriving at Mrs. Lisle's, Hicks and Nelthorp entered first in the dark; Dunne did not see them again till they were taken. Dunne was received by a young girl he did not know. He had 'a bit of cake and cheese from my own house, and that I eat': he did not see Mrs. Lisle.

So far, Jeffreys had been conducting an examination-in-chief, or what served the same purpose. Now the cross-examination begins—Dunne was forced to take the word of the first man who came to him that he would be paid. He was a baker, and would not bake on Sundays.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Alack-a-day! thou art precise in that, but thou canst travel on Sundays to lead rogues into lurking holes ... but I assure thee thy bread is very light weight, it will scarce pass the balance here.

He left his horse in the stable, the other two left theirs outside the gate. He knew there were fugitives about the country; he did not ask the little man with the black beard who Hicks was. Hicks told him he was in debt. Did not the man who first came tell him Hicks was in debt and wanted to be concealed? He did. How came Dunne to be so impudent then as to tell such a lie?

DUNNE—I beg your pardon, my Lord.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—You beg my pardon! That is not because you told me a lye, but because I found you in a lye. Come Sirrah, tell me the truth.

Where did Dunne sleep? in a chamber to which the girl showed him, he saw no one else; he put up his horse himself and fed him on hay which was in the rack; the stable-door was latched; he pulled up the latch. He knew his way to the stable, because he had been there before—even though it was dark. Carpenter the bailiff gave his horse hay and brought a light to the stable after he had gone there. Besides Carpenter and the girl he saw no one. He did not drink in the house; he had last drunk at Barton.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Now prithee tell me truly, where came Carpenter unto you? I must know the truth of that; I would not terrify thee to make thee say anything but the truth, but assure thyself I never met with a lying, sneaking, canting fellow, but I always treasured up vengeance for him; and therefore look to it, that thou dost not prevaricate with me, for be sure thou wilt come by the worst of it in the end.

DUNNE—My Lord, I will tell the truth as near as I can.

Carpenter met him in the court when he was with Hicks and Nelthorp; no one else was there; Carpenter opened the stable-door.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Why thou vile wretch, didst thou not tell me just now that thou pluckedst up the latch? Dost thou take the God of Heaven not to be a God of truth, and that He is not a witness of all thou sayest? Dost thou think because thou prevaricatest with the court here thou canst do so with the God above who knows thy thoughts? And it is infinite mercy, that, for these falsehoods of thine, he does not immediately strike thee into hell! Jesus God!... Did you not tell me that you opened the latch yourself and that you saw nobody else but a girl? How durst you offer to tell such horrid lies in the presence of God and of a court of Justice? Answer me one question more. Did he pull down the hay or you?

Dunne did not pull down any hay; Carpenter took him into the house and to his room; but no one asked him to eat or drink; he did not know what became of the others' horses.

JEFFREYS—Did you tell Carpenter that the horses were there?

DUNNE—I did not tell him any such thing.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Thou art a strange, prevaricating, shuffling, sniveling lying rascal.

Barter was then called and sworn.

Having been duly threatened he deposed that Dunne came to his house on Saturday; he guided Dunne to Moyles Court; Dunne gave Carpenter a letter. Carpenter would not meddle with it; Dunne went in to my lady. He went into the kitchen where my lady came in, and she asked if he could make bricks; she went up to Dunne 'laughing with him and looked at me.' He asked Dunne what she laughed at. Dunne said she asked if he knew anything of 'the concern,' and he, Dunne, answered no, and that this was what she laughed at. He was thereupon disturbed, and consulted Colonel Penruddock. It was agreed between them that he should guide Dunne and his friends across Salisbury Plain and that the Colonel should intercept them there; this plan, however, failed, and he left them when they insisted on going 'a private way over the fording bridge towards Moyles Court,' sending word, however, to Colonel Penruddock that they were at the house.

Dunne told him that the men he was to guide had 'half a score of thousands of pounds a year a piece.' 'He' (Dunne) 'told me he had a very fine booty for his part, and that he should never want money again, that I should be very well paid, and he gave me half-a-crown.'

Dunne is recalled, and denies that he gave Carpenter a letter or spoke to Barter of the wealth of the men he was to guide.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Then one thing more, Did you not tell him that you told my lady when she asked whether he was acquainted with this concern, that he knew nothing of the business?

DUNNE—My lord, I did tell him so.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Did you so? Then you and I must have a little further discourse: Come now and tell us what business was that? and tell it us so, that a man may understand and believe that thou dost speak truth.

DUNNE—Does your lordship ask what that business was?

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Yes, it is a plain question; what was that business that my lady asked thee, whether the other man knew; and then you answered her, that he did know nothing of it? (Then he paused awhile.)

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Remember, friend, thou art upon thy oath; and remember, withall that it is not thy life, but thy soul that is now in danger; therefore I require from thee a plain answer to a very plain question: what was that business my lady enquired after, whether the other fellow knew, and thou toldest her, he did not? [Dunne made no answer, but stood musing awhile.]

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—He is studying and musing how he shall prevaricate; but thou hadst better tell the truth, friend; remember what thou hast said already; thou hast said that thou didst tell that man, that the lady asked you, whether he knew anything of the business, and thou toldest her, he did not? Now I would know what that business was. [Still he made no answer, but seemed to muse.]

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Look thee, if thou canst not comprehend what I mean, I will repeat it to thee again; for thou shalt see what countryman I am,[58] by my telling my story over twice; therefore I ask thee once again. Thou sayedst thy lady asked thee, whether he knew of the business: and thou toldest her he did not. Now let us know what that business was?

DUNNE—I cannot mind it, my lord, what it was.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—But mind me, prithee: Thou didst tell that honest man there, that my lady Lisle asked thee, whether he knew anything of the business, and thou saidest no. What was that business?

DUNNE—That business that Barter did not know of?

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Yes, that is the business; be ingenuous, tell the truth: Oh! how hard the truth is to come out of a lying Presbyterian knave. Prithee, friend, consider the oath that thou hast taken, and that thou art in the presence of a God that cannot endure a lie, nor whose holiness will not admit him to dispense with a lie; consider that that God is an infinite being of purity, holiness and truth; and it would be inconsistent with his being to dispense with the least untruth; and thou hast called him to witness, that thou wouldest testify the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I charge thee, therefore, as thou wilt answer it to that God of truth, and that thou mayest be called to do, for aught I know, the very next minute, and there thou wilt not be able to palliate the truth; what was that business you and my lady spoke of?—[Then he paused for half a quarter of an hour, and at last said—]

DUNNE—I cannot give an account of it, my lord.

Jeffreys continued for a long time to use and repeat every possible kind of threat without being able to draw anything from Dunne; at last

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Why, prithee, dost thou think thou dost thy lady a kindness by this way of proceeding? Sure thou canst not think so; for such a sort of carriage were enough to convict her, if there were nothing else.

DUNNE—Truly, my lord, I do think not to do her any kindness at all.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Then prithee, let me persuade thee to have some kindness for thyself; look to thy own soul that is in great peril of everlasting ruin and destruction by these means; dost thou call this religion? It is a prodigious piece of religion! Come pray tell me what business it was that you talked of? You should not have asked me a question so often, but I would have given you a plain answer, though I were under the obligation of an oath as you are.

DUNNE—My lord, pray ask the question again once more and I will tell you.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—I will so, and I will ask it you with all the calmness, and seriousness, and candour, that I can; if I know my own heart, it is not in my nature to desire the hurt of anybody, much less to delight in their eternal perdition; no, it is out of tender compassion to you, that I use all these words: I would have thee to have some regard to thy precious and immortal soul, which is more valuable than the whole world; reflect upon that scripture again which I mentioned before, which must be true because it is the words of him that is truth itself: what shall it profit a man to gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? If that soul of thine be taken away, what is the body fit for, but, like a putrid carcase, to be thrust into and covered with the dust with which it was made: therefore I ask you, with a great desire that thou mayest free thyself from so great a load of falshood and perjury, tell me what the business was you told the prisoner the other man Barter did not know.

DUNNE—My lord, I told her, he knew nothing of our coming there.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Nay, nay, that can never be it, for he came along with thee.

DUNNE—He did not know anything of my coming there till I met him on the way.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Prithee, mind my question; sure enough thou hadst told him whither thou wert going, or else he could not have been thy guide; so he must needs know of thy coming there: but what was the business thou told'st her, he did not know?

DUNNE—She asked me whether I did not know that Hicks was a Nonconformist?

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Did my lady Lisle ask you that question?

DUNNE—Yes, my lord, I told her I did not.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—But that is not my question; what was that business that he did not know?

DUNNE—It was the same thing; whether Mr. Hicks was a nonconformist.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—That cannot be all; there must be something more in it.

DUNNE—Yes, my lord, it is all; I know nothing more.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—What did she say to you when you told her, he did not know it?

DUNNE—She did not say anything, my lord.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Why, dost thou think, that after all this pains, that I have been at to get an answer to my question, that thou canst banter me with such sham stuff as this? Hold the candle to his face that we may see his brazen face.

DUNNE—My lord, I tell you the truth.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Did she ask thee whether that man knew anything of a question she had asked thee, and that was only of being a nonconformist?

DUNNE—Yes my lord, that was all.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—That is all nonsense; dost thou imagine that any man hereabouts is so weak as to believe thee?

DUNNE—My lord, I am so baulked, I do not know what I say myself.

Pollexfen here recalled Barter, who said that Dunne had told him that he had concealed the two men in his house for ten days, that it was the best job he had ever had in his life, and that he should never lack money again. All this Dunne denied having said; Barter, however, swore that he repeated it to Colonel Penruddock.

Colonel Penruddock, being called and sworn, deposed that Barter came to his house on Monday morning and said he had been with Dunne upon a journey to Lady Lisle's house to get entertainment for some people. They were going to meet him on Tuesday between nine and eleven on Salisbury Plain, and Colonel Penruddock could take them there. He sent a servant to take them there, who missed them; and accordingly went with soldiers to Lady Lisle's house the next day, searched it, found Hicks and Dunne in the Malt House, the latter having 'covered himself up with some sort of stuff there,' and Nelthorp 'in a hole by the chimney.'

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Dunne, how came you to hide yourself in the malt-house?

DUNNE—When I heard the stir and bustle, I went through the chamber where I lay, and came into that room where I was taken.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—When thou heardst a stir and a bustle, why wert thou afraid of anything?

DUNNE—My lord, I was frightened at the noise.

LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE—Prithee, what needst thou be afraid for, thou didst not know Hicks nor Nelthorp? and my lady only asked thee whether Hicks were a Nonconformist parson. Thou art a very innocent soul, and surely need'st no occasion to be afraid.