THE HORRIBLE Murder of a young Boy of three years of age, whose Sister had her tongue cut out: and how it pleased God to reveal the offenders, by giving speech to the tongueless Child. Which Offenders were executed at Hartford the 4. of August. 1606. LONDON Printed by Ed. Allde for William Firebrand, and are to be sold at his Shop in the Popes-head Alley, over against the Tavern door. 1606. A True Relation of the cruel Murdering of a young Boy, not fully three years old, whose Sister likewise had her tongue cut out of her head, hard by the roots: which murder and massacre was done by a woman called Mother del, and her Son, dwelling at Hatfield in Hartfordshire, for which monstrous fact, they were both hanged at Hartford this last Assizes. The only witness to prove the Murder was the tongueless Child, most mightily preserved from death, to which Child it pleased God to lend the use of speech, notwithstanding the want of her tongue. IN Hatfield in the County of Hartford, dwelled an old Widow, called Mother del, who had abiding with her in the house, only her Son, named T. del: Into the house of this old woman (some four years since) was seen go in two pretty Children a Boy and a Girl, the Boy seemed not three years of age, and the Girl not much above four. These Children were led into the said house by a wandering peddler & his wife (or Punk.) The going in of these children was noted by divers, but especially by a Tailor dwelling in the town called A. C. which Taylor marked them so much the more, for that they were hansomelye appare●●●d and their coats made with new wings, skirts and ●ags, such as he had not seen the like of before, which made him presently upon the sight of them, to make a pattern of those wings and jags: But doubting that he had not taken a true pattern, he watched to have another sight of those Children, But when for two or three days space he could not see them, he went to the house of Mother del, and did ask her for those Children? she answered him very shortly saying: they were safe enough, for they were gone again with them that brought them. With this answer the Tailor was satisfied, because it no further conscernd him then the getting of a piece of a new fashion. But within a while after the boy was found dead in a ditch or water not far from the Town, with a great piece of wood tied to his back. The Child being taken out, it did plainly appear that he was murdered before he was thrown in, The poor harmless Infant being found thus cruelly murdered, and none that looked on him taking knowledge of him. His pretty little coat was taken and hanged up in divers market towns and proclamation made in every one of those Towns to this effect, that if any one whatsoever could and would tell where the Father or Mother of the murdered Child (which wore that Coat) dwelled, he should have forty shillings for his pains, and his charges borne to bring him from and to the place where he dwelled: But all this proved to little or no purpose, till at the last, this news came to the hearing of the Tailor, who coming to the place where the Coat was to be seen, and taking good notice of it, he presently called to his remembrance, that, that coat was worn by one of those Children which he had seen go into the house of Mother Dell. The news of this coming to the ears of Sir Henry Butler and one other Knight, being both justices, and both dwelling near to that place, a warrant was made, by veride whereof, the said Mother del and her Son were brought before them both, and strictly examined, where they both confessed the two such Children as the Tailor spoke of, came into the house with a peddler and his wife, and that they verily thought the Boy at that time had that coat on his back: but all this was nothing to them, for they neither knew the Penlar nor his wife, only they came thither to see if they had need of any of their ware, (as it is a common use for traveling Pedlars to call at divers houses) & when they had bestowed some little money with them, both he his wife, and those Children (which they said were theirs) went out on the backside of the house, and what after became of them, they knew not. Upon this their confession, they were both bound over to appear and answer at the next Assizes, the justices hoping ere that time to find out the actor or actors of that more than monstrous tragedy. But alas their hopes were deceived, for the time was not yet come wherein God had decreed to bring this cruel, barbarous, and bloody masacre to light: yet notwithstanding, they were still bound over from Sise to Sise, almost for four years, in which time, the said Mother del bestowed great cost in altering repairing, and furnishing of her house, which made many of her neighbours much to wonder, for that they knew not from whence she should have wherewith to defray that charge. But now let us leave both her and her Son to the bell and horror of a guilty conscience, which always waits and attends on murderers, and let us now speak of the poor mangled and dismembered Girl, who was now in far worse case than her dead Brother, had not he which provides for the whose world, in his good appointed time provided for her: For her tongue was first cut out of her head by the roots, than was she led by this said Mother of mischief and her Son, (at a time when they were not seen) to the side of a wood, which was seldom frequented, in which place stood an old great hollow tree, which was not very high. Having brought this helpless and hopeless child to this tree (which they meant should be her grave) the son got up to the top, and rudely halled up after him this harmless girl, who having seen her brother murdered before her face, had no reason to hope of life, yet did she not cease with tears and signs to beg for pity of these pitiless wretches, whose hearts being much harder than stone, would not relent: for this merciless villain let her slip into the tree where they left her, in hope never more to see her, or hear of her. But he that preserved Daniel in the Lion's den, and made the blind to see, the lame to go, and the dumb to speak, did not only preserve the life of this child, but also did give unto her an extraordinary strength and vigour, whereby she was able, and did make such a noise, that a man coming by that way (not by chance, but surly by the providence and appointment of God) hearing a strange humming, and hollow crying, drawing near to that tree, perceived the noise and cry to come from thence, which made him get up to the top of it, where being and looking down into it, he beheld that pitiful, ruthful, and bloody spectacle: which when he had a while looked on with pity and compassion, and having spoke to her, and perceiving by her signs that she could not answer him, he made means to draw her out. Which when he had done, he began (as may be easily imagined) to bethink with himself, what great trouble he might come into if he were found with the child, he being a stranger, as it seems he was. And this fear of trouble (as was supposed by the grave and wise judge and justices of the Bench, when the matter came to their hearing) made this man after he had pulled her out of the tree, to make from her with all the haste he could. But the poor soul pursued him with all the haste she could, crying and calling unto him for succour and help in the best manner she could, being thereunto urged by pain and hunger, the least of which will force a man of a resolute and resolved spirit to break silence, had he vowed the contrary: much more than being joined both together must they force a child. In brief then, when she had lost the sight of him, God knows what became of her, but no one man or woman can tell any certain place of her abode for almost these four years. Many say they have seen such a dumb child wander up and down a begging, And she herself hath confessed (since the time that God hath lent her use of her speech and utterance, that she may be easily understood by any that shall hear her) that she did beg for her food all that time. And questionless, the Lord who had reserved her, both to bring so monstrous a murder, and cruel a massacre to light, and also to make manifest his almighty power to many misbelieving and unbelieving miscreants (Atheists I mean) he, I say, as may most evidently appear, did both preserve her, and provide for her. And now the time drawing near, wherein it pleased God to give these wicked wretches some part of of their reward, he so directed the course of this poor wandering child, that she came back again to the town of Hatsield, where she received her wrongs, having yet no use of speech nor utterance, whereby she might be understood. And wandering up and down the town, little thinking she had been near the place where her innocent brother lost his life, and herself the instrument of her speech: but going along the street▪ gazing here and there, as children will do (yea and old folks too) when they come into a strange place, At last she came by the house where this bloody tragedy had been acted: which house she no sooner saw, but she knew, as did appear by the signs of grief and sorrow, which she made at the sight thereof. For what with her crying, and the extraordinary noise which she made, she drew people about her, who did in some sort seem to grieve at the moan she made: but surely they could not choose but wonder, and desire to know what the sorrow and signs meant which the child made. For one while she would gape wide with her mouth, drawing her fore finger to and fro it, as though she had been cutting of some thing: then would she with her finger point into the house. And when this mother del and her son came to the door, than her crying and her signs did seem much to increase, which made the lookers on to suspect much, but alas they knew not what. But at last amongst other folks, came the Tailor before spoken of, and he no sooner saw the child, noted her signs, and remembered the other Child found in the water and murdered as is aforesaid, but strait he says, that this was the other of those Children, which was led into that house long since by the peddler and his Wife. Then some of the Neighbours together with the Tailor, took the child and led her into the house, she being within, stood staring wildelye round about her, at last she spied a pair of stairs, to which she went directly, and coming to them, she looked earnestly on them, looking about the house again, she first pointed to the stairs, and then to a Corner of the house, as who should say, these stairs did stand there. This sign the neighbours understood well, because they knew the stairs had been removed and that made them think some foul● matter would be picked out of her other signs. Hereupon they began to lay hands on the Mother and her Son, to have them again (now with the Child) before the justice, at which the child seemed to rejoice. Being brought before Sir Henry Butler, who was the next justice, (and had examined them divers times before concerning these Children) the Constable or Head borough began to tell unto his Worship the cause of their coming, and having related unto him from point to point, what they had seen, the Child marking, and understanding them well, fell to her former signs again before the Knight. Whereupon he did with great wisdom and discretion, examine them apart, one from another. But they both remained still obstinate, and in their old tale, confessing nothing, nor would any of them acknowledge, that they had ever seen the Girl before, notwithstanding the Tailor did still affirm it to their faces, that that was the Girl which the peddler and his wife led into their house long since with the boy. The justice assuring himself now, that these were the actors of that bloody Tragedy, & hoping that God would in time make it yet more plain than if was, he caused a Mittimus to be made & sent them to the jail, there to remain with out daily or main prize until the Assizes. And further he willed the Constable to take the Child's back again with him to the Town, and to have a great care that she might be well looked unto, and to see the house of Mother del safely shut up. All this being done according to the knights command, & the child's lodging & diet being much better, than it had been long before, she began to gather both strength and spirit unto her, and to take delight to play amongst Children. But now (Gentle Reader) let me entreat thee as thou readst, not only to admire and wonder, but to praise & and magnify the mighty maker and preserver of us all, for his great mercy and might showed to this poor child, in this next succeeding action, which if we look into but with the eyes of natural reason and human sense, it will be thought incredible and impossible. But with God nothing is impossible, & this ought not to be thought incredible, because it was so lately and so near unto us done, and for that the Child is yet living in Harfield, to affirm for truth, all that is here written of her. Now you shall understand, that this girl being playing with other children on the backside of some man's house in the town, where cocks, hens, & chickens were feeding, It pleased God at that time, to make a cock to be (as it were a tutor to the child, and) his first messenger of this mighty miracle, like as a bird of the same name and nature, using the self same note, put Peter in mind that he had denied his master: from which his remembrance, sprung his true and hearty repentance. But to proceed: This child being playing (as I said before) one of the cocks in the yard began to crow, and another answered him and thus they continued aprettie while. At last one of the children began (after their manner) to mock the cocks, crying cocke-adoodle-doo: in the end this dumb child, straining herself, cried as t●● rest had done, cocke-adoodle do, which made all the children amazed: and one of them that stood next her, said: what, canst thou speak now? I that I can (said she) speaking it so plainly that they all understood her. The hearing of this made the children break up their play, and run home with joy to the house where this child was kept, to carry news. And when she came home to the house where she was kept, and the folk of the house finding the report of the children to be true, with exceeding joy (after the ask of her some few questions, to which she did answer very directly) they led her again to the knight before named, to whom they told what had happened. Which when he had heard (he being furnished with the fear of God, which is indeed the true fountain and foundation of wisdom) he first of all gave thanks to God, and then he did ask her who cut out her tongue? she said, the old woman and her son, that killed her brother, and put her into the tree: then he asked her who took her out of the tree? and she said, a man, that when he had done did run away from her because she could not speak to him. He likewise asked whither she went then? but alas she could not tell him: then he did ask her, who brought her to the old woman's house first? and she said a man and a woman that had killed her father and her mother, and taken a great bag of money from them. And she said that the man and woman had given a great deal of that money to the old woman: and that the old woman did at that time lift up her hands three times, and did swear three times, that she would never tell any body who they were. These and many other questions the Knight did ask her, to all which she did answer, with more reason and sense, then is common to one of her age. To conclude, the Assizes being come, an Indictment was preferred against the mother and the son, to which indictment they pleaded not guilty, and put themselves to the ordinary trial. Whereupon the child was brought before the Bench, and stood upon the Table between the Bench and the jury. Where after that the foresaid knight had opened some part of this foul offence, the child was asked diverse of the former questions: to which she answered as before. The tailor likewise was there, who told unto the jury what he had seen. Then the jury was willed to go together: but before they went, they did look into the child's mouth, but could not see so much as the stump of a tongue therein. The jury stayed not long before they returned with their verdict guilty, whereupon they had sentence of death pronounced against them, and were both hanged at Hartfort the fourth day of August. 1606. Thus far (gentle reader) have I set down briefly and truly the manner of this monstrous massacre. And how far it hath pleased God to reveal some of the Authors: and for some secret purpose best known to himself, to conceal the rest, which questionless shall be made known in his good appointed time, when it shall be most for his honour and glory. In the mean time, let me entreat all you which do read or hear this ruthful discourse, to meditate (as I do and will) on the many miseries and mischances mankind is subject to, which if you do, questionless you will make less joy at the birth of your children, and less sorrow at their death then commonly you do, and rather seek (in some sort) to imitate those Heathens, which did sing and dance at the death of their children, than those Christians which do mourn and sorrow as men past hope. As for the love which ordinarily men bear unto their children, it may more fitly be called love to themselves, then to their children. For notwithstanding we all know or aught to know, that no one is truly happy till his end, if he die well, yet many (nay most of us) do rather desire to have our children survive us, then to see them fairly bestowed before us. Never thinking, respecting, or regarding, what may come to them after our death: so our humours be fed in our lives. And if this may not truly be said to be self-love, I know not what is self-love. Therefore let us all and every one of us, refer and put our wills to Gods will, assuring ourselves, that all things shall work together for the best, for them that love and fear him. As for the peddler and his wife, which the child hath confessed to have rob and killed her father and mother, they are not yet found out, nor is the place and above of her too unfortunate Parents yet known But yet all in good time, if it be the will of the almighty, both the one and the other shall come to light. Amen.