Belvoir Castle, near Grantham; open to the public.
Joan proclaimed her innocence, demanding the opportunity to prove her case. She allegedly asked for bread and butter, announcing that if she was guilty of witchcraft then she would choke on the bread. The story goes that at the first bite Joan did choke, dying shortly afterwards. This was judged as proof that she had been practising witchcraft against the earl and countess and their family, so the two daughters had no choice but to ‘confess’.
They disclosed that Joan had acquired one of Henry’s gloves, dipped it in boiling water, stuck pins in it and rubbed it on her familiar, Rutterkin the cat. She then went on to boil the gloves, along with some bed feathers of the earl and countess, in blood and water, attempting to render the couple barren.
A familiar was the special pet of a witch, which was thought to actually be an imp or demon that took on the form of an animal and aided the witch in her Devil worship. These creatures were said to survive by sucking parts of the witch.
The title page of the first edition of the Belvoir Pamphlet, 1619, accusing Joan Flower and her daughters of witchcraft.
A pamphlet concerning these events, named ‘The Wonderful Discovery of the Witchcrafts of Margaret and Phillippa Flower, daughters of Joan Flower neere Bever Castle: executed at Lincolne, March 11th 1618’ was compiled by one John Barns and details extracts of their confessions. The following is an example, concerning Margaret Flower:
She saith and confesseth, that about four or five years since, her mother sent her for the right hand glove of Henry, Lord Roos, afterward that her mother bade her go again into the castle of Belvoir and bring down the gloves and some other things and she asked ‘What to do?’ Her mother replied ‘To harm my Lord Roos.’ Whereupon she brought down a glove, and delivered the same to her mother, who stroked Rutterkin her cat with it, after it was dipt in hot water, and so prickted it often, after which Henry, Lord Roos fell sick within a week, and was much tormented with the same.
The girls also confessed to experiencing demonic visions and owning familiars of their own, which they allowed to suck at their bodies, then they went on to betray the names of three other women they claimed were also involved.
Anne Baker of Bottesford, Ellen Greene of Stathorne and Joan Willimot of Goodby were duly arrested and eventually made to confess. All three made admissions to consorting with familiars of their own, in the form of a kitten, a mole and a white dog. Ellen Green testified:
Joan Willimott called two spirits, one in the likeness of a kitten, and the other of a moldiwarp (a mole): the first, said Willimott was called Pusse, and Hisse, [sic] and they presently came ot [sic] her, and she departing [sic] and they leapt upon her shoulder, and the kitten sucked under her right ear on her neck, and the mole on the left side in the like place. After they had sucked her she sent the kitten to a baker of that town (i.e. Goadby) whose name she remembers not, who had called her a witch and had stricken her, and had her said spirit go and bewitch hime to death: the mole she then had go to Anne Dawse of the same town and bewitch her to death, because she called this examinate witch, whore, Jade etc, and within one fortnight after they both died.
The women also confessed to having visions, consorting with fairies and uttering curses against people. John Barnes’ pamphlet states that Anne Baker was accused of murder by witchcraft:
Being charged that she bewitched Elizabeth Hough, the wife of William Hough to death, for that she angered her in giving her almes of her second bread [i.e. stale]: confesseth that she was angry with her and she might have given her of better bread for she had gone too often on her errands.
He also states that between 1615 and 1618, there were up to eighteen people who were believed to have been injured or killed by witchcraft in the Vale of Belvoir. This again highlights how a crowd can be easily incited by gossip and superstition.
Even though the Flower daughters had already been executed when Francis, the Rutland’s youngest son, died in 1620, it was believed by all to be a result of the curses they had inflicted upon him. When the earl died, an inscription was placed at St Mary’s Church in Bottesford. This can still be seen there today:
In 1608 he married ye lady Cecilia Hungerford…by whom he had two sonnes, both who died in their infancy by wicked practise and sorcerye.
All counties had their own superstitions about how to avoid the evil eye of a witch. Ethel Rudkin explains some of the local Lincolnshire ones:
In the presence of a witch, so that she shall be powerless against you, clench both your fists with the thumb inside and under the fingers.
If you are bewitched take a lock of hair from low down on the nape of your neck, take another lock from your body, and bury these with needles and pins.
If you pluck a straw from the thatch of a witches’ house and hold it in your hand, a witch can’t harm you.
The tomb of the Earl of Rutland, on the right-hand side within the church of St Mary the Virgin, Bottesford.
A close-up of the inscription above the Earl of Rutland’s effigy, explaining how his sons were killed through witchcraft.
If you think that anyone who is ailing is in reality bewitched, then fill a bottle with the sufferers’ urine and put needles and pins in it and bury it. This will fairly ‘tie the witch up’, for she won’t be able to pass water naturally until that bottle is broken. 2
This idea of a witch bottle is a very old device, used to deflect evil energies. Traditionally, once filled with the sufferer’s urine, hair, or nails, it was then buried under the hearth or in a secret wall space. Another method was to throw the bottle onto a fire, which broke the spell the witch had cast.
In 2003 there was a remarkable find under some old foundations in the small Lincolnshire village of Navenby. A couple doing some renovations on their house dug up a bottle which seemed to contain bits of metal. They had no idea what it was and put it in a cupboard, eventually taking it along to an open evening at the archaeological department at Lincolnshire County Council.
It was immediately recognised as a witch bottle and dated to the 1830s. It had been damaged, but still had its contents; hair, pins and possibly urine. Adam Daubney, the Finds Liaison Officer said it was an amazing discovery, especially as they thought such superstitions had died out by then. He did state that in the more remote rural areas, old traditions do tend to linger for longer. The bottle is being preserved at Lincoln’s Museum of Lincolnshire Life.
Gutch and Peacock say that around 1817, ‘a great heap of pins and old fashioned tobacco pipe heads’ were found on Hardwick Hill, Scotton Common, ‘believed to have been put there for magical purposes’.3 This is further evidence of the beliefs from this era.
There were various other techniques for trying to ward off the curse or evil eye of a witch. Codd relates the account of a witch from Willoughton who had a reputation for cursing. A certain Mrs Smith decided to invite the witch, Betty, round one day, giving her the best seat in the house to sit upon. When Betty sat down, however, she soon jumped up in pain, as Mrs Smith had hidden pins under the cushion so as to draw the witch’s blood and thus deny the witch any power over her. Gutch and Peacock relate the same story happening to a poor old lady, Nanny Moody, from Messingham. She too was tricked into sitting on a chair laced with pins and had a very sore behind for a long time afterwards. She had apparently suffered other incidents from her fellow villagers, who believed she was a witch, but whether she was or not was never confirmed.
This idea of drawing a witch’s blood was worryingly popular; Codd tells the story of a pig farmer who complained to the local priest that his pig had been overlooked at market. ‘Thou and me knaws the party that hes dun it…’4 he apparently said, declaring that if only he could draw the blood of the witch then all would be well. What a shocking state of affairs that any woman, young or old, could be charged with being a witch, on the flimsiest of evidence and, like Nanny Moody, be persecuted her whole life.
Other remedies to keep a witch at bay included hanging
the skin of a toad on top of a post near the house, or hanging mistletoe above the doorway. The practice of bottling some pins, black apple-pips and hair, then putting the sealed bottle on a hot fire until it burst with heat was a common one. When the glass broke the hex was said to be broken. The wicken tree was used as a tool for warding off evil advances, but the bay and elder were also thought to each contain certain properties to keep a witch away. Gutch and Peacock wrote that mountain ash or rowan twigs (wicken) were carried in pockets, as a charm against witches. Apparently, to avoid having one’s pig cursed, you should hang a garland of wicken branches around its neck, then it could not possibly be bewitched.
The witch bottle found in Navenby, kindly shown to me by the staff of Lincoln’s Museum of Lincolnshire Life, where it is housed. (Reproduction of photograph permitted by Lincolnshire County Council: Museum of Lincolnshire Life.)
An example of a witch ball, also held by Lincoln’s Museum of Lincolnshire Life. These were apparently hung up in windows to deflect the evil eye, and thought possibly to be the forerunner of Christmas bauble decorations. (Reproduction of photograph permitted by Lincolnshire County Council: Museum of Lincolnshire Life.)
Examples of ‘witch stones’, These were stones with a natural hole in them and were thought to have been used as protection against curses.
Gutch and Peacock list a few things people used as charms against witches, including hanging the insides of a pigeon over the door of the house or hanging a horseshoe over the stable door. Iron was often thought of as a weapon to deflect the evil eye, hence the widespread use of horseshoes as ‘lucky’ charms. Pins and nails worked well too, and a cake stuck full of pins was a good counteract. Cowslips were also thought to be a protection against witches. Witch stones, a stone with a natural hole through it, found accidentally, should be hung in the doorway of a house for protection.
Witches were said to ‘eyespell’ the first money that a labourer was paid on hiring day, but the men could counter this by spitting on the money or placing it in the mouth.5
Lincolnshire was better known for its cunning folk, than for its witches. A Cunning Man was more often seen as a healer, although there was always the fear that he could harm as well. They were more popular than was first thought, although their numbers dwindled considerably during the witch hunts. Charles Kingsley uses this common knowledge of Cunning Men or Wise Women in his novel, when Torfrida asks her nurse to use a charm to discover the mark under her admirer’s beard. He also highlights the common belief that witches haunted the Lincolnshire Fens, when Torfrida replies, ‘Well, if it keeps off my charm it will keep off others – that is one comfort; and one knows not what fairies, or witches, or evil creatures, he may meet with in the forests and the Fens.’
John Parkins was a well-known Cunning Man who plied his trade in Little Gonerby. He apparently built up quite a business for his charms and protections, calling his establishment The Temple of Wisdom. It is thought that he was an apprentice of the famous Francis Barrett, who tried to revive interest in magical activities after the hunts. As well as protection against witchcraft, Cunning Folk could be fortune tellers, healers and dealers in love potions; some were even said to locate buried treasure.
Wise Men and Women were often called upon by villagers to help them with some problem or other, when the situations arose. Often they were approached by people who believed they were suffering from the curse of bad witchcraft.
Gutch and Peacock illustrate this with a story from Yaddlethorpe about an old man, Thomas K, who was shunned by the entire village, as they suspected him of having the evil eye.6 Among his crimes were causing rheumatism, cattle to die and pigs not to fatten. His neighbour decided to do something about Thomas K when he found his show horses dead the morning of Lincoln Fair. He visited a Wise Man, who told him to cut out the heart of one of the horses, stick pins into it and boil it. Whilst he was doing this he should expect Thomas K to come knocking at his door, but under no circumstances was he to let him in. The neighbour did all this and apparently Thomas K did come knocking, as predicted, and tried every means possible to enter the house. It was securely locked, however, and the result was that Thomas K became very badly scalded, so much so that he could not work for months.
Another incident is mentioned regarding a lady from the Covenham area, who had been bedridden with a sickness for some length of time. She spread word that she was going to call for the Louth wizard to visit her and aid her recovery. It is said that the very same day she declared her intentions, she was suddenly cured and able to leave her bed. The thinking was that she had been under the influence of some evil eye and that they had lifted the curse, fearing the potential actions of the Wise Man of Louth.
The wizard of Lincoln, known as Wosdel, was called upon one time by a farmer who had been robbed. Wosdel visited, in the form of a blackbird, and showed the farmer the two farm workers who had stolen from him. The men were arrested and the money was eventually found hidden at one of their homes.
Another belief was that the seventh child in a family, male or female, was sure to be ‘wise’. Wise Men/Women were thought of as white witches, who used their powers for good, not evil. They possessed a great deal of knowledge and could tell people’s fortunes. They were able to look into a person’s heart and read their secrets so were respected by all.
Legend states that gatherings or conventions of witch people in Lincolnshire would occur each mid-summer night and some say the burial mound at Revesby was one such meeting place. Others say this was the site of Devil worship, where witches would arrive on broomsticks with stolen un-baptised babies, ready to curse communities with famine and plagues and to dance with the Devil. In 1926, Christopher Marlowe wrote about a visit he made to Lincolnshire and specifically this burial mound. He described bizarre activities going on at the mound – 300 half-naked witches shrieking, dancing, feasting and drinking. He told of a travelling captain who unwittingly stumbled across this company and was badly abused by the witches.
There is a church in Skidbrooke, St Botolph’s, which has a reputation for being a centre of black magic and witchcraft, even today. The church itself has not been used for services for over thirty years, but ghosts and Satanists are said to frequent it.
Halloween was an occasion when people were eager to stay indoors, as it was known to be the night of witches and black magic. Katherine Briggs retells a story about witches on Halloween, taken from Barrett’s More Tales from the Fens. The story teller narrates a tale from his childhood, about an occasion when he stayed at his auntie’s one Halloween night. It was the custom this night to place willow twigs around the house, as witches would not cross them and his uncle also apparently killed a black hen, taking two wing feathers to hang on the dog’s collar, then tying the hen on the chicken house door. Witches always kept away from black chicken feathers. This was the night that all the witches were supposed to be out in the Fens, meeting up and cursing and placing spells on the people and animals that they came across.
St Botolph’s Church, Skidbrooke. A beautiful building in a peaceful, rural location. A public footpath leads from the road where there is a sign for ‘Historic Church’.
The inside of the church at Skidbrooke – it is completely empty inside, although from the outside it looks like any other church in use. It is fairly large with some beautiful stonework inside.
Other precautions included burning oak logs on the fire, as witches could apparently smell peat burning from miles away. Some food was placed on the doorstep to appease any passing witches and thus avoid a curse from them. Before midnight, Barrett was told it was the custom for the oldest man and the youngest boy in the house to go out and do the rounds on the farm, checking on everything. Poor Barrett, who was the youngest lad, was probably terrified with all the talk of witches and curses round the fire!
The two of them trudged outside with a lantern and he said the animals were very restless, as they knew what was out there in the dark. As they walked to the orchard, an
owl swooped down at them and the uncle struck out at it with a thick stick, knocking it to the ground. In his opinion he had just slain a witch in flight. They listened in at the beehive and heard a lot of noise going on inside. The uncle bent to it and whispered in, ‘Well done, my old beauties. I got one just now and, by the sound of it, you’ve got another; push her outside when you’ve done with her.’7
Back inside, the others were told of the shenanigans outside and the aunt was nervous of witches coming down the chimney and cursing them before morning. Wanting to discourage any witches coming down, she threw a handful of sulphur onto the fire, making the flames roar bright blue and yellow. The uncle, wanting to go one better, threw a handful of gunpowder he had in the cupboard into the flames. A huge bang shook the house and soot flew everywhere. When the smoke cleared, however, the aunt found herself nursing a dead magpie upon her lap. Another witch down!
After some refreshments, the two males had to do the rounds outside once more and when they got to the beehive, to the boy’s astonishment, a dead mouse – still warm – lay on the flight board. The three dead animals were all burnt on the fire and everyone was content that no witches would bother them that night.
Folklore of Lincolnshire Page 13
