LI B RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 QZ3 
 
 AL6Z* 
 1849 
 
 ™ W\
 
 
 
 The person charging this material is re- 
 sponsible for its return to the library from 
 which it was withdrawn on or before the 
 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
 Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books 
 are reasons for disciplinary action and may 
 result in dismissal from the University. 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 DEC 81977 
 
 L161 — O-1096
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/lancashirewitche01ains
 
 LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 a Romance of ^enfcrle jforest. 
 
 WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH, ESQ. 
 
 Sir Jeffery. — Is there a justice in Lancashire has so much skill in witches 
 as I have ? Nay, I'll speak a proud word, you shall turn me loose against any 
 Witch-finder in Europe. I'd make an ass of Hopkins if he were alive. 
 
 Sri A DWELL. 
 
 LN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 [the author reserves to himself the right of issuing A 
 
 GERMAN TRANSLATION IN PRUSSIA.] 
 
 LONDON: 
 HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER. 
 
 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 1849.
 
 C. WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAKD.
 
 1 
 
 AJL LJio^ 
 
 V . 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Ww Hast attbot of MlijalUg. 
 
 CHAPTER I. page 
 
 The Beacon on Pendlehill 3 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Eruption 2] 
 
 CHAPTER IH. 
 Whalley Abbey 37 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 The Malediction 56 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The Midnight Mass m 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Teter et Foktis Carcer 77 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 The Abbey Mili
 
 IV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. pack 
 
 The Executioner . . 107 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Wis wall Hall 116 
 
 BOOK THE FIRST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 The May Queen 133 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Black Cat and the White Dove . .. . . . 151 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 The Asshetons 161 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Alice Nutter 189 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Mother Chattox 21° 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 The Ordeal by Swimming 243 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The Ruined Conventual Church 263 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 The Revelation 304
 
 JAMES CROSSLEY, ESQ. 
 
 6 (OF MANCHESTER.) 
 
 PRESIDENT OF THE CHETHAM SOCIETY, 
 
 AND THE LEARNED EDITOR OF 
 
 11 Qfyt Btsco&ertc of WLitttys in fyt €Dountg of 3Ean castor, "- 
 
 THE GROUND-WORK OF THE FOLLOWING PAGES,— 
 
 THIS ROMANCE, 
 
 UNDERTAKEN AT HIS SUGGESTION, 
 
 IS INSCRIBED 
 
 BY HIS OLD, AND SINCERELY ATTACHED FRIEND, 
 
 THE AUTHOR, 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 m* Hast mbot of JBBJalfeB. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE BEACON ON PENDLE HILL. 
 
 There were eight watchers by the beacon on Pendle 
 Hill in Lancashire. Two were stationed on either side 
 of the north-eastern extremity of the mountain. One 
 looked over the castled heights of Clithero ; the woody 
 eminences of Bowland; the bleak ridges of Thornley; 
 the broad moors of Bleasdale; the Trough of Bolland, 
 and Wolf Crag ; and even brought within his ken the 
 black fells overhanging Lancaster. The other tracked 
 the stream called Pendle "Water, almost from its 
 source amid the neighbouring hills, and followed 
 its windings through the leafless forest until it 
 united its waters to those of the Calder, and swept on in 
 swifter and clearer current to wash the base of Whalley 
 Abbey. But the watcher's survey did not stop here. 
 Noting the sharp spire of Burnley Church, relieved 
 
 b2
 
 4 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 against the rounded masses of timber constituting 
 Townley Park ; as well as the entrance of the gloomy 
 mountain gorge, known as the Grange of Cliviger ; his 
 far-reaching gaze passed over Todmorden, and settled 
 upon the distant summits of Blackstone Edge. 
 
 Dreary was the prospect on all sides. Black moor, 
 bleak fell, straggling forest, intersected with sullen 
 streams as black as ink, with here and there a small tarn, 
 or moss-pool, with waters of the same hue — these consti- 
 tuted the chief features of the scene. The whole district 
 was barren, and thinly-populated. Of towns only Clithero, 
 Colne, and Burnley — the latter little more than a village 
 — were in view. In the valleys there were a few hamlets 
 and scattered cottages, and on the uplands an occasional 
 " booth/' as the hut of the herdsman was termed ; 
 but of more important mansions, there were only 
 six, as Merlay, Twistleton, Alcancoats, Saxfeld, 
 Ightenhill, and Gawthorpe. The " vaccaries" for the 
 cattle, of which the herdsmen had the care, and the 
 •■' Jawnds," or parks within the forest, appertaining to 
 some of the halls before mentioned, offered the only 
 evidences of cultivation. All else was heathy waste, 
 morass, and wood. 
 
 Still, in the eye of the sportsman — and the Lan- 
 cashire gentlemen of the sixteenth century were 
 keen lovers of sport — the country had a strong inte- 
 rest. Pendle forest abounded with game. Grouse, 
 plover, and bittern were found upon its moors ; wood- 
 cock and snipe on its marshes ; mallard, teal, and
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 5 
 
 widgeon upon its pools. In its chaces ranged herds 
 of deer, protected by the terrible forest-laws, then in 
 full force ; and the hardier huntsman might follow 
 the wolf to his lair in the mountains; might spear 
 the boar in the oaken glades, or the otter on the 
 river's brink; might unearth the badger or the fox, or 
 smite the fierce cat-a-mountain with a quarrel from 
 his bow. A nobler victim sometimes, also, awaited 
 him in the shape of a wild mountain bull, a denizen of 
 the forest, and a remnant of the herds that had once 
 browsed upon the hills, but which had almost all been 
 captured, and removed to stock the park of the Abbot 
 of Whalley. The streams and pools were full of fish ; 
 the stately heron frequented the meres; and on the 
 craggy heights built the kite, the falcon, and the 
 kingly eagle. 
 
 There were eight watchers by the beacon. Two 
 stood apart from the others, looking to the right and 
 the left of the hill. Both were armed with swords and 
 arquebuses, and wore steel caps and coats of buff. Their 
 sleeves were embroidered with the five wounds of Christ, 
 encircling the name of Jesus — the bad^e of the Pil- 
 grimage of Grace. Between them, on the verge of the 
 mountain, was planted a great banner, displaying a 
 silver cross, the chalice, and the Host, together with 
 an ecclesiastical figure, but wearing a helmet instead of 
 a mitre, and holding a sword in place of a crosier, with 
 the unoccupied hand pointing to the two towers of a 
 monastic structure, as if to intimate that he was armed
 
 6 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 for its defence. This figure, as the device beneath it 
 showed, represented John Paslew, Abbot of Whalley, 
 or, as he styled himself in his military capacity, Earl 
 of Poverty. 
 
 There were eight watchers by the beacon. Two have 
 been described. Of the other six, two were stout herds- 
 men carrying crooks, and holding a couple of mules, and 
 a richly-caparisoned war-horse by the bridle. Near them 
 stood a broad-shouldered, athletic young man, with the 
 fresh complexion, curling brown hair, light eyes, 
 and open Saxon countenance best seen in his native 
 county of Lancaster. He wore a Lincoln-green tunic, 
 with a bugle suspended from the shoulder by a silken 
 cord, and a silver plate engraved with the three 
 luces, the ensign of the Abbot of Whalley, hung by 
 a chain from his neck. A hunting-knife was in his 
 girdle, and an eagle's plume in his cap, and he leaned 
 upon the butt-end of a cross-bow, regarding three persons 
 who stood together by a peat fire, on the sheltered side 
 of the beacon. Two of these were elderly men, in the 
 white gowns and scapularies of Cistertian monks, doubt- 
 less from Whalley, as the abbey belonged to that order. 
 The third and last, and evidently their superior, was a 
 tall man in a riding dress, wrapped in a long mantle of 
 black velvet, trimmed with minever, and displaying the 
 same badges as those upon the sleeves of the sentinels, 
 only wrought in richer material. His features were 
 strongly marked and stern, and bore traces of age ; 
 but his eye was bright, and his carriage erect and 
 dignified.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 7 
 
 The beacon, near which the watchers stood, consisted 
 of a vast pile of logs of timber, heaped upon a circular 
 range of stones, with openings to admit air, and 
 having the centre filled with fagots, and other quickly 
 combustible materials. Torches were placed near at 
 hand, so that the pile could be lighted on the instant. 
 
 The watch was held one afternoon at the latter end 
 of November, 1536. In that year had arisen a for- 
 midable rebellion in the northern counties of Eng- 
 land, the members of which, while engaging to respect 
 the person of the king, Henry VIII., and his issue, 
 bound themselves by solemn oath to accomplish the 
 restoration of Papal supremacy throughout the realm, 
 and the restitution of religious establishments and lands 
 to their late ejected possessors. They bound them- 
 selves, also, to punish the enemies of the Romish Church, 
 and suppress heresy. From its religious character the 
 insurrection assumed the name of the Pilgrimage of 
 Grace, and numbered among its adherents all who had 
 not embraced the new doctrines in Yorkshire and Lan- 
 cashire. That such an outbreak should occur on 
 the suppression of the monasteries was not mar- 
 vellous. The desecration and spoliation of so many 
 sacred structures — the destruction of shrines and images 
 long regarded with veneration — the ejection of so 
 many ecclesiastics, renowned for hospitality and re- 
 vered for piety and learning — the violence and rapa- 
 city of the commissioners appointed by the Vicar- 
 General Cromwell to carry out these severe measures —
 
 8 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 all these outrages were regarded by the people with 
 abhorrence, and disposed them to aid the sufferers in 
 resistance. As yet the wealthier monasteries in the 
 north had been spared, and it was to preserve them 
 from the greedy hands of the visitors, Doctors Lee 
 and Lay ton, that the insurrection had been under- 
 taken. A simultaneous rising took place in Lincolnshire, 
 headed by Makarel, Abbot of Barlings, but it was 
 speedily quelled by the vigour and skill of the Duke of 
 Suffolk, and its leader executed. But the northern 
 outbreak was better organised, and of greater force, for 
 it now numbered thirty thousand men, under the 
 command of a skilful and resolute leader named Robert 
 Aske. 
 
 As may be supposed, the priesthood were main 
 movers in a revolt having their especial benefit for its 
 aim; and many of them, following the example of the 
 Abbot of Barlings, clothed themselves in steel instead of 
 woollen garments, and girded on the sword and the 
 breast-plate for the redress of their grievances and the 
 maintenance of their rights. Amongst these were the 
 Abbots of Jervaux, Furness, Fountains, liivaulx, and 
 S alley, and, lastly, the Abbot of Whalley, before men- 
 tioned; a fiery and energetic prelate, who had ever been 
 constant and determined in his opposition to the aggres- 
 sive measures of the king. Such was the Pilgrimage of 
 Grace, such its design, and such its supporters. 
 
 Several large towns had already fallen into the hands 
 of the insurgents. York, Hull, and Pontefract had
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 9 
 
 yielded ; Sklpton Castle was besieged, and defended by 
 the Earl of Cumberland ; and battle was offered to the 
 Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Shrewsbury, who 
 headed the king's forces at Doncaster. But the object 
 of the Royalist leaders was to temporise, and an armis- 
 tice was offered to the rebels and accepted. Terms were 
 next proposed and debated. 
 
 During the continuance of this armistice all hostilities 
 ceased; but beacons were reared upon the mountains, 
 and their fires were to be taken as a new summons to 
 arms. This signal the eight watchers expected. 
 
 Though late in November, the day had been un- 
 usually fine, and, in consequence, the whole hilly 
 ranges around were clearly discernible, but now the 
 shades of evening were fast drawing on. 
 
 11 Night is approaching," cried the tall man in 
 the velvet mantle, impatiently ; " and still the sig- 
 nal comes not. Wherefore this delay? Can Norfolk 
 have accepted our conditions ? Impossible. The last 
 messenger from our camp at Scawsby Lees brought 
 word that the duke's sole terms would be the king's 
 pardon to the whole insurgent army, provided they at 
 once dispersed — except ten persons, six named and four 
 unnamed." 
 
 " And were you amongst those named, lord abbot ?" 
 demanded one of the monks. 
 
 " John Paslew, Abbot of Whalley, it was said, 
 headed the list,"" replied the other, with a bitter smile. 
 u Next came William Trafford, Abbot of S alley.
 
 10 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 Next Adam Sudbury, Abbot of Jervaux. Then our 
 leader, Robert Aske. Then John Eastgate, Monk of 
 Whalley— " 
 
 "How, lord abbot!" exclaimed the monk. "Was 
 my name mentioned ?" 
 
 * ' It was," rej oined the abbot. ' ' And that of William 
 Haydocke, also Monk of Whalley, closed the list." 
 
 " The unrelenting tyrant," muttered the other monk. 
 " But these terms could not be accepted ?" 
 
 "Assuredly not," replied Paslew, "they were re- 
 jected with scorn. But the negotiations were con- 
 tinued by Sir Ralph Ellerker and Sir Robert Bowas, 
 who were to claim on our part a free pardon for all; 
 the establishment of a Parliament and courts of justice 
 at York ; the restoration of the Princess Mary to the 
 succession ; the Pope to his jurisdiction ; and our 
 brethren to their houses. But such conditions will 
 never be granted. With my consent no armistice should 
 have been agreed to. We are sure to lose by the delay. 
 But I was overruled by the Archbishop of York and 
 the Lord Darcy. Their voices prevailed against the 
 Abbot of Whalley — or, if it please you, the Earl of 
 Poverty." 
 
 "It is the assumption of that derisive title which 
 has drawn upon you the full force of the king^s resent- 
 ment, lord abbot," observed Father Eastgate. 
 
 " It may be," replied the abbot. " I took it in 
 mockery of Cromwell and the ecclesiastical commis- 
 sioners, and I rejoice that they have felt the sting. The
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 11 
 
 Abbot of Barlings called himself Captain Cobler because, 
 as he affirmed, the state wanted mending like old 
 shoon. And is not my title equally well chosen ? 
 Is not the church smitten with poverty? Have not 
 ten thousand of our brethren been driven from their 
 homes to beg or to starve ? Have not the houseless 
 poor whom we fed at our gates, and lodged within our 
 wards, gone away hungry and without rest? Have not 
 the sick whom we would have relieved died untended 
 by the hedge-side? I am the head of the poor in 
 Lancashire, the redresser of their grievances, and there- 
 fore I style myself Earl of Poverty. Have I not 
 done well?" 
 
 " You have, lord abbot," replied Father Eastgate. 
 
 " Poverty will not alone be the fate of the Church, 
 but of the whole realm if the rapacious designs of the 
 monarch and his heretical counsellors are carried forth," 
 pursued the abbot. " Cromwell, Audeley, and Rich 
 have wisely ordained that no infant shall be baptised 
 without tribute to the king; that no man who owns 
 not above twenty pounds a year shall consume wheaten 
 bread, or eat the flesh of fowl or swine without tribute ; 
 and that all ploughed land shall pay tribute likewise. 
 Thus the Church is to be beggared, the poor plundered, 
 and all men burthened, to fatten the king, and fill his 
 exchequer." 
 
 "This must be a jest," observed Father Haydocke. 
 
 "It is a jest no man laughs at," rejoined the abbot, 
 sternly; " any more than the king's counsellors will laugh
 
 12 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 at the Earl of Poverty, whose title they themselves 
 have created. But wherefore comes not the signal ? 
 Can aught have gone wrong? I will not think it. 
 The whole country, from the |Tweed to the Humber, 
 and from the Lune to the Mersey, is ours ; and if we 
 but hold together, our cause must prevail.' ' 
 
 " Yet we have many and powerful enemies," ob- 
 served Father Eastgate ; " and the king, it is said, 
 hath sworn never to make terms with us. Tidings were 
 brought to the abbey this morning that the Earl of 
 Derby is assembling forces at Preston, to inarch upon 
 us." 
 
 " We will give him a warm reception if he comes," 
 replied Paslew, fiercely. " He will find that our walls 
 have not been kernelled and embattled by license of 
 good King Edward the Third for nothing ; and that our 
 brethren can fight as well as their predecessors fought 
 in the time of Abbot Holden, when they took tithe by 
 force from Sir Christopher Parsons of Slaydburn. The 
 abbey is strong, and right well defended, and we need 
 not fear a surprise. But it grows dark fast, and yet no 
 signal comes." 
 
 " Perchance the waters of the Don have again arisen, 
 so as to prevent the army from fording the stream," 
 observed Father Haydocke; "or it may be that some 
 disaster hath befallen our leader/' 
 
 "Nay, I will not believe the latter," said the abbot; 
 " Robert Aske is chosen by Heaven to be our deliverer.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 13 
 
 It has been prophesied that a ■ worm with one eye' shall 
 work the redemption of the fallen faith, and you know 
 that Robert Aske hath been deprived of his left orb by 
 an arrow." 
 
 " Therefore it is," observed Father Eastgate, " that 
 the Pilgrims of Grace chant the following ditty : — 
 
 "Forth shall come an Aske with one eye, 
 He shall be chief of the company — 
 Chief of the northern chivalry." 
 
 " What more?" demanded the abbot, seeinsr that the 
 monk appeared to hesitate. 
 
 " Nay, I know not whether the rest of the rhymes 
 may please you, lord abbot," replied Father Eastgate. 
 
 " Let me hear them and I will judge," said Paslew, 
 
 Thus urged, the monk went on : — 
 
 " One shall sit at a solemn feast, 
 Half warrior, half priest. 
 The greatest there shall be the least." 
 
 "The last verse," observed the monk, "has been 
 added to the ditty by Nicholas Demdike. I heard 
 him sing it the other day at the abbey gate." 
 
 " What, Nicholas Demdike of Worston ?" cried the 
 abbot; " he whose wife is a witch ?" 
 
 Cl The same," replied Eastgate. 
 
 " Hoo be so ceawnted, sure eno," remarked the 
 forester, who had been listening attentively to their 
 discourse, and who now stepped forward; "boh dunna 
 yo think it. Beleemy, lort abbut, Bess Demdike's too 
 yunk an too protty for a witch."
 
 14 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Thou art bewitched by her thyself, Cuthbert," said 
 the abbot, angrily. " I shall impose a penance upon 
 thee to free thee from the evil influence. Thou must 
 recite twenty paternosters daily, fasting, for one month ; 
 and afterwards perform a pilgrimage to the shrine of our 
 Lady of Gilsland. Bess Demdike is an approved and 
 notorious witch, and hath been seen by credible wit- 
 nesses attending a devil's sabbath on this very hill — 
 Heaven shield us ! It is therefore that I have placed 
 her and her husband under the ban of the church ; pro- 
 nounced sentence of excommunication against them; 
 and commanded all my clergy to refuse baptism to their 
 infant daughter, newly born." 
 
 " Wea's me ! ey knoas 't reet weel, lort abbut," 
 replied Ashbead, " and Bess taks t' sentence sore ta 
 'ert!" 
 
 " Then let her amend her ways or heavier punish- 
 ment will befal her," cried Paslew, severely. " ' Sorti- 
 legam non patieris vivere, 1 saith the Levitical law. 
 If she be convicted she shall die the death. That she 
 is comely I admit, but it is the comeliness of a child of 
 sin. Dost thou know the man with whom she is wedded 
 — or supposed to be wedded — for I have seen no proof 
 of the marriage ? He is a stranger here." 
 
 " Ey knoas neawt abowt him, lort abbut, 'cept that 
 he cum to Pendle a twalmont agoa," replied Ashbead; 
 " boh ey knoas fu' weel that t'eawtcumbling felly robt 
 me ot prottiest lass i' aw Lonkyshiar — aigh, or i' aw 
 Englondshiar, fo' t' matter o' that."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 15 
 
 11 What manner of man is he?" inquired the abbot. 
 
 " Oh, he's a feaw teyke — a varra feaw teyke," replied 
 Ashbead ; " wi' a feace as black as a boggart, sooty 
 shoiny hewr loike a mowdywarp, an' een loike a stan- 
 niel. Boh for running, rostling, an throwing t' stoan 
 he'n no match i' this keawntry. Ey'n triet him at aw 
 three gams, so ey con speak. For't most part he'n 
 a big, black bandyhewit wi' him, and, by th' Mess, 
 ey canna help thinkin he meys free sumtoimes wi' 
 yor lortship's bucks.*" 
 
 u Ha ! this must be looked to," cried the abbot. u You 
 say you know not whence he comes ? 'Tis strange." 
 
 "T' missmannert carl '11 boide naw questionin', odd 
 rottle him !" replied Ashbead. "He awnsurs wi' a gibe, 
 or a thwack o' his staff. Whon ey last seet him, he 
 threatened t' raddle me booans weel, boh ey sooan 
 lowert him a peg." 
 
 " We will find a way of making him speak," said the 
 abbot. 
 
 " He can speak, and right well if he pleases," re- 
 marked Father Eastgate ; " for though ordinarily silent 
 and sullen enough, yet when he doth talk it is not 
 like one of the hinds with whom he consorts, but in 
 good set phrase ; and his bearing is as bold as that of 
 one who hath seen service in the field." 
 
 " My curiosity is aroused," said the abbot. "I must 
 see him." 
 
 " Noa sooner said than done," cried Ashbead, " for be 
 t' Lort Harry, ey see him stonding be yon moss poo'
 
 16 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 o' top t' hill, though how he'n getten theer t' Dule 
 owny knoas." 
 
 And he pointed out a tall dark figure standing 
 near a little pool on the summit of the mountain, 
 about a hundred yards from them. 
 
 " Talk of ill, and ill cometh," observed Father Hay- 
 docke. " And see the wizard hath a black hound with 
 him. It may be his wife, in that likeness." 
 
 " Naw, ey knoas t' hount reet weel, Feyther Hay- 
 docke," replied the forester; " it's a Saint Hubert, an' 
 a rareun fo' fox or badgert. Odds loife, fey ther, whoy 
 that's t' black bandyhewit I war speaking on. ,, 
 
 " I like not the appearance of the knave at this junc- 
 ture," said the abbot, " yet I wish to confront him, and 
 charge him with his misdemeanours." 
 
 " Hark, he sings," cried Father Haydocke. And as 
 he spoke a voice was heard chanting, — 
 " One shall sit at a solemn feast, 
 Half warrior, half priest, 
 The greatest there shall he the least." 
 
 "The very ditty I heard," cried Father Eastgate, 
 " but list, he has more of it." And the voice re- 
 sumed, — 
 
 " He shall be rich, yet poor as me, 
 Abbot, and Earl of Poverty. 
 Monk and soldier, rich and poor, 
 He shall be hang'd at his own door." 
 
 Loud derisive laughter followed the sono;. 
 " By our Lady of Whalley, the knave is mocking 
 us," cried the abbot; "send a bolt to silence him, 
 
 Cuthbert. ,,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 17 
 
 The forester instantly bent his bow, and a quarrel 
 whistled off in the direction of the singer, but whether 
 his aim were not truly taken, or he meant not to hit the 
 mark, it is certain that Demdike remained untouched. 
 The reputed wizard laughed aloud, took off his felt cap 
 in acknowledgment, and marched deliberately down the 
 side of the hill. 
 
 " Thou art not wont to miss thy aim, Cuthbert," 
 cried the abbot, with a look of displeasure. " Take 
 good heed thou producest this scurril knave before me, 
 when these troublous times are over. But what is this ? 
 — he stops —ha ! he is practising his devilries on the 
 mountain's side." 
 
 It would seem that the abbot had good warrant for 
 what he said, as Demdike having paused at a broad green 
 patch on the hill side, was now busied in tracing a circle 
 round it with his staff. He then spoke aloud some 
 words, which the superstitious beholders construed into 
 an incantation, and after tracing the circle once 
 again, and casting some tufts of dry heather, which he 
 plucked from an adjoining hillock, on three par- 
 ticular spots, he ran quickly downwards, followed by his 
 hound, and leaping a stone wall, surrounding a little 
 orchard, at the foot of the hill, disappeared from view. 
 
 " Go and see what he hath done," cried the abbot to 
 the forester, u for I like it not. 1 ' 
 
 Ashbead instantly obeyed, and on reaching the 
 green spot in question, shouted out that he could dis- 
 cern nothing, but presently added, as he moved about, 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 that the turf heaved like a sway-bed beneath his 
 feet, and he thought — to use his own phraseology — 
 would " brast." The abbot then commanded him 
 to go down to the orchard below, and if he could find 
 Demdike to bring him to him instantly. The forester 
 did as he was bidden, ran down the hill, and, leaping 
 the orchard- wall as the other had done, was lost to sight. 
 
 Ere long, it became quite dark, and as Ashbead did 
 not re-appear, the abbot gave vent to his impatience 
 and uneasiness, and was proposing to send one of the 
 herdsmen in search of him, when his attention was sud- 
 denly diverted by a loud shout from one of the senti- 
 nels, and a fire was seen on a distant hill on the right. 
 
 "The signal! the signal !" cried Paslew, joyfully. 
 " Kindle a torch ! — quick, quick !" 
 
 And as he spoke, he seized a brand and plunged it 
 into the peat fire, while his example was followed by 
 the two monks. 
 
 "It is the beacon on Blackstone Edge," cried the 
 abbot; "and look! a second blazes over the Grange of 
 Cliviger — another on Ightenhill — another on Bouls- 
 worth Hill — and the last on the neighbouring heights 
 of Padiham. Our own comes next. May it light the 
 enemies of our holy Church to perdition !" 
 
 "With this, he applied the burning brand to the com- 
 bustible matter of the beacon. The monks did the 
 same ; and in an instant a tall, pointed flame, rose up 
 from a thick cloud of smoke. Ere another minute had 
 elapsed, similar fires shot up to the right and the left,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 19 
 
 on the high lands of Trawden Forest, on the jagged 
 points of Foulridgc, on the summit of Cowling Hill, 
 and so on to Skipton. Other fires again blazed on the 
 towers of Clithero, on Longridge and Ribchester, on 
 the woody eminences of Bowland, on Wolf Crag, and 
 on fell and scar all the way to Lancaster. It seemed 
 the work of enchantment, so suddenly and so strangely 
 did the fires shoot forth. As the beacon flame increased, 
 it lighted up the whole of the extensive table-land on 
 the summit of Pendle Hill ; and a long, lurid streak, 
 fell on the darkling moss-pool near which the wizard 
 had stood. But when it attained its utmost height, it 
 revealed the depths of the forest below, and a red 
 reflexion, here and there, marked the course of Pendle 
 Water. The excitement of the abbot and his compa- 
 nions momently increased, and the sentinels shouted as 
 each new beacon was lighted. At last, almost every hill 
 had its watch-fire, and so extraordinary was the specta- 
 cle, that it seemed as if weird beings were abroad, 
 and holding their revels on the heights. 
 
 Then it was, that the abbot, mounting his steed, 
 called out to the monks — " Holy fathers, you will 
 follow to the abbey as you may. I shall ride fleetly on, 
 and despatch two hundred archers to Huddersficld and 
 Wakefield. The abbots of Salley and Jervaux, with 
 the Prior of Burlington, will be with me at midnight, 
 and at daybreak we shall march our forces to join the 
 main army. Heaven be with you !" 
 
 " Stay !" cried a harsh, imperious voice. " Stay P* 
 c 2
 
 20 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 And, to his surprise, the abbot beheld Nicholas Dem- 
 dike standing before him. The aspect of the wizard 
 was dark and forbidding, and seen by the beacon light, 
 his savage features, blazing eyes, tall gaunt frame, and 
 fantastic garb, made him look like something unearthly. 
 Flinging his staff over his shoulder, he slowly ap- 
 proached, with his black hound following close by at his 
 heels. 
 
 " I have a caution to give you, lord abbot, " he 
 said; " hear me speak before you set out for the abbey, 
 or ill will befal you." 
 
 ' "111 will befal me if I listen to thee, thou wicked 
 churl," cried the abbot. " What hast thou done with 
 Cuthbert Ashbead?" 
 
 " I have seen nothing of him since he sent a bolt 
 after me at your bidding, lord abbot," replied Dem- 
 dike. 
 
 " Beware lest any harm come to him, or thou wilt 
 rue it," cried Paslew. ' ( But I have no time to waste on 
 thee. Farewell, fathers. High mass will be said in 
 the convent church before we set out on the expedi- 
 tion to-morrow morning. You will both attend it." 
 
 " You will never set out upon the expedition, lord 
 abbot," cried Demdike, planting his staff so suddenly 
 into the 2Toimd before the horse's head that the animal 
 
 o 
 
 reared and nearly threw his rider. 
 
 " How now, fellow, what mean you ?" cried the 
 abbot, furiously. 
 
 " To warn you," replied Demdike.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 21 
 
 " Stand aside, " cried the abbot, spurring his steed, 
 " or I will trample you beneath my horse's feet." 
 
 M I might let you ride to your own doom," rejoined 
 Demdike, with a scornful laugh, as he seized the 
 abbot's bridle. " But you shall hear me. I tell you, 
 you will never go forth on this expedition. I tell you 
 that, ere to-morrow, Whalley Abbey will have passed 
 for ever from your possession ; and that if you go 
 thither again, your life will be forfeited. Now will you 
 listen to me ?" 
 
 " I am wrong in doing so," cried the abbot, who 
 could not, however, repress some feelings of misgiving 
 at this alarming address. " Speak, what would you 
 say?" 
 
 " Come out of ear-shot of the others, and I will tell 
 you," replied Demdike. And he led the abbot's horse 
 to some distance further on the hill. 
 
 "Your cause will fail, lord abbot," he then said. 
 " Nay, it is lost already." 
 
 " Lost !" cried the abbot, out of all patience. " Lost ! 
 Look around. Twenty fires are in sight — ay, thirty, 
 and every fire thou seest will summon a hundred men 
 at the least, to arms. Before an hour five hundred men 
 will be gathered before the gates of Whalley Abbey." 
 
 u True," replied Demdike ; "but they will not own 
 the Earl of Poverty for their leader." 
 
 " What leader will they own, then?" demanded the 
 abbot, scornfully. 
 
 " The Earl of Derby," replied Demdike. " He is
 
 22 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 on his way thither with Lord Mounteagle from Pres- 
 ton." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed Paslew, " let me go meet them, 
 then. But thou trinest with me, fellow. Thou canst 
 know nothing of this. Whence got'st thou thine in- 
 formation ?" 
 
 " Heed it not," replied the other, " thou wilt find 
 it correct. I tell thee, proud abbot, that this grand 
 scheme of thine and of thy fellows for the restitution 
 of the Catholic Church has failed — utterly failed." 
 
 " I tell thee thou liest, false knave," cried the abbot, 
 striking him on the hand with his scourge. " Quit 
 thy hold, and let me go." 
 
 " Not till I have done," replied Demdike, main- 
 taining his grasp. " Well hast thou styled thyself Ear I 
 of Poverty, for thou art poor and miserable enough. 
 Abbot of Whalley thou art no longer. Thy possessions 
 will be taken from thee, and if thou returnest thy 
 life also will be taken. If thou fleest, a price will be 
 set upon thy head. I alone can save thee, and I will 
 do so on one condition." 
 
 "Condition ! make conditions with thee, bond- 
 slave of Satan, 53 cried the abbot, gnashing his 
 teeth. " I reproach myself that I have listened to thee 
 so long. Stand aside, or I will strike thee dead." 
 
 " You are wholly in my power," cried Demdike, 
 with a disdainful laugh. And as he spoke he pressed 
 the large sharp bit against the charger's mouth, and 
 backed him quickly to the very edge of the hill, the
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 23 
 
 sides of which here sloped precipitously down. The 
 abbot would have uttered a cry, but surprise and terror 
 kept him silent. 
 
 " Were it my desire to injure you, I could cast you 
 down the mountain-side to certain death," pursued 
 Demdike. " But I have no such wish. On the con- 
 trary, I will serve you, as I have said, on one con- 
 dition." 
 
 u Thy condition would emperil my soul," said the 
 abbot, full of wrath and alarm. " Thou seekest in 
 vain to terrify me into compliance. Vade retro Satlia- 
 nas. I defy thee and all thy works." 
 
 Demdike laughed scornfully. 
 
 " The thunders of the Church do not frighten me," 
 he cried. "But, look," he added, "you doubted my 
 word when I told you the rising was at an end. The 
 beacon-fires on Boulsworth Hill and on the Grange of 
 Cliviger are extinguished ; that on Padiham Heights is 
 expiring — nay, it is out ; and ere many minutes all 
 these mountain watch-fires will have disappeared like 
 lamps at the close of a feast." 
 
 " By our Lady, it is so," cried the abbot, in increas- 
 ing terror. " What new jugglery is this ?" 
 
 " It is no jugglery, I tell you," replied the other. 
 " The waters of the Don have again arisen ; the in- 
 surgents have accepted the king's pardon, have de- 
 serted their leaders, and dispersed. There will be no 
 rising to-night or on the morrow. The abbots of Jer- 
 vaux and Salley will strive to capitulate, but in vain.
 
 24 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 The Pilgrimage of Grace is ended. The stake for 
 which thou playedst is lost. Thirty years hast thou 
 governed here, but thy rule is over. Seventeen abbots 
 have there been of Whalley — the last thou ! — but 
 there shall be none more." 
 
 " It must be the Demon in person that speaks thus 
 to me," cried the abbot, his hair bristling on his head, 
 and a cold perspiration bursting from his pores. 
 
 " No matter who I am," replied the other ; " I have 
 said I will aid thee on one condition. It is not much. 
 Remove thy ban from my wife, and baptise her infant 
 daughter, and I am content. I would not ask thee for 
 this service, slight though it be, but the poor soul 
 hath set her mind upon it. Wilt thou do it ?" 
 
 "No," replied the abbot, shuddering ; "I will not 
 baptise a daughter of Satan. I will not sell my soul 
 to the powers of darkness. I adjure thee to depart 
 from me, and tempt me no longer." 
 
 " Vainly thou seekest to cast me off," rejoined Dem- 
 dike. "What if I deliver thine adversaries into 
 thine hands, and avenge thee upon them ? Even 
 now there are a party of armed men waiting at the 
 foot of the hill to seize thee and thy brethren. Shall I 
 show thee how to destroy them ?" 
 
 " Who are they ?" demanded the abbot, surprised. 
 
 "Their leaders are John Braddyll and Richard 
 Assheton, who shall divide Whalley Abbey between 
 them, if thou stayest them not," replied Demdike. 
 
 " Hell consume them !" cried the abbot.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 25 
 
 "Thy speecli shows consent," rejoined Demdike. 
 " Come this way." 
 
 And, without awaiting the abbot's reply, he 
 dragged his horse towards the butt-end of the moun- 
 tain. As they went on, the two monks, who had 
 been rilled with surprise at the interview, though they 
 did not dare to interrupt it, advanced towards their 
 superior, and looked earnestly and inquiringly at 
 him, but he remained silent, while to the men-at-arms 
 and the herdsmen, who demanded whether their own 
 beacon-fire should be extinguished as the others had 
 been, he answered moodily in the negative. 
 
 " Where are the foes you spoke of?" he asked, with 
 some uneasiness, as Demdike led his horse slowly and 
 carefully down the hill side. 
 
 " You shall see, anon/' replied the other. 
 
 " You are taking me to the spot where you traced 
 the magic circle," cried Paslew, in alarm. M I know 
 it from its unnaturally green hue. I will not go 
 thither." 
 
 " I do not mean you should, lord abbot," replied 
 Demdike, halting. " Remain on this firm ground. Nay, 
 be not alarmed, you are in no danger. Now bid your 
 men advance, and prepare their weapons." 
 
 The abbot would have demanded wherefore, but at 
 a glance from Demdike he complied, and the two men- 
 at-arms, and the herdsmen, arranged themselves 
 beside him, while Fathers Eastgate and Haydocke,
 
 26 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 who liad gotten upon their mules, took up a position 
 behind. 
 
 Scarcely were they thus placed, when a loud 
 shout was raised below, and a band of armed men, 
 to the number of thirty or forty, leapt the stone wall, 
 and began to scale the hill with great rapidity. They 
 came up a deep, dry channel, apparently worn in the 
 hill side by some former torrent, and which led directly 
 to the spot where Demdike and the abbot stood. The 
 beacon fire still blazed brightly, and illuminated the 
 whole proceeding, showing that these men, from their 
 accoutrements, were royalist soldiers. 
 
 " Stir not, as you value your life," said the wizard 
 to Paslew; " but observe what shall follow."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 27 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE ERUPTION. 
 
 Demdike went a little further down the hill, stop- 
 ping when he came to the green patch. He then 
 plunged his staff into the sod at the first point where he 
 had cast a tuft of heather, and with such force that 
 it sank more than three feet. The next moment he 
 plucked it forth, as if with a great effort, and a jet of 
 black water spouted into the air ; hut heedless of this, 
 he went to the next marked spot, and again plunged 
 the sharp point of the implement into the ground. 
 Again it sank to the same depth, and, on being drawn 
 out, a second black jet sprung forth. 
 
 Meanwhile, the hostile party continued to advance 
 up the dry channel before-mentioned, and shouted on 
 beholding these strange preparations, but they did not 
 relax their speed. Once more the staff sank into the 
 ground, and a third black fountain followed its extrac- 
 tion. By this time, the royalist soldiers were close at 
 hand and the features of their two leaders, John Brad- 
 dyll and Richard Assheton, could be plainly distin- 
 guished, and their voices heard.
 
 28 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " 'Tis he ! 'tis tlie rebel abbot !" vociferated Braddyll, 
 pressing forward. "We were not misinformed. He 
 has been watching by the beacon. The devil has de- 
 livered him into our hands." 
 
 "Ho! ho!" laughed Demdike. 
 
 "Abbot no longer — 'tis the Earl of Poverty you 
 mean," responded Assheton. "The villain shall be 
 gibbeted on the spot where he has fired the beacon, as 
 a warning to all traitors." 
 
 "Ha, heretics ! —ha, blasphemers! — I can at least 
 avenge myself upon you," cried Paslew, striking spurs 
 into his charger. But ere he could execute his purpose, 
 Demdike had sprung backward, and catching the bridle, 
 restrained the animal by a powerful effort. 
 
 "Hold!" he cried, in a voice of thunder, "or you 
 will share their fate." 
 
 As the words were uttered, a dull, booming, subter- 
 ranean sound was heard, and instantly afterwards, with 
 a crash like thunder, the whole of the green circle be- 
 neath slipped off, and from a yawning rent under it 
 burst forth, with irresistible fury, a thick inky-coloured 
 torrent, which, rising almost breast high, fell upon the 
 devoted royalist soldiers, who were advancing right in 
 its course. Unable to avoid the watery eruption, or to 
 resist its fury when it came upon them, they were in- 
 stantly swept from their feet, and carried down the 
 channel. 
 
 A sight of horror was it to behold the sudden rise of 
 that swarthy stream, whose waters, tinged by the ruddy
 
 THE LANCASIIIKE WITCHES. 29 
 
 glare of the beacon-lire, looked like waves of blood. Nor 
 less fearful was it to hear the first wild despairing cry 
 raised by the victims, or the quickly stifled shrieks and 
 groans that followed, mixed with the deafening roar of 
 the stream, and the crashing fall of the stones, which 
 accompanied its course. Down, down went the poor 
 wretches, now utterly overwhelmed by the torrent, now 
 regaining their feet only to utter a scream, and then be 
 swept off. Here a miserable struggler, whirled onward, 
 would clutch at the banks and try to scramble forth, 
 but the soft turf giving way beneath him, he was hurried 
 off to eternity. 
 
 At another point where the stream encountered some 
 trifling opposition, some two or three managed to gain a 
 footing, but they were unable to extricate themselves. 
 The vast quantity of boggy soil brought down by the 
 current, and which rapidly collected here, embedded 
 them and held them fast, so that the momently deepen- 
 ing water, already up to their chins, threatened speedy 
 immersion. -Others were stricken down by great 
 masses of turf, or huge rocky fragments which, bound- 
 ing from point to point with the torrent, bruised or 
 crushed all they encountered, or lodging in some diffi- 
 cult place, slightly diverted the course of the torrent, 
 and rendered it yet more dangerous. 
 
 On one of these stones, larger than the rest, which 
 had been stopped in its course, a man contrived to 
 creep, and with difficulty kept his post amid the 
 raging flood. Vainly did he extend his hand to such
 
 30 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 of liis fellows as were swept shrieking past him. He 
 could not lend them aid, while his own position was so 
 desperately hazardous that he did not dare to quit it. 
 To leap on either bank was impossible, and to breast 
 the headlong stream certain death. 
 
 On goes the current, madly, furiously, as if rejoicing 
 in the work of destruction, while the white foam of its 
 eddies presents a fearful contrast to the prevailing black- 
 ness of the surface. Over the last declivity it leaps, hiss- 
 ing, foaming, crashing like an avalanche. The stone wall 
 for a moment opposes its force, but falls the next, with a 
 mighty splash, carrying the spray far and wide, while its 
 own fragments roll onwards with the stream. The trees of 
 the orchard are uprooted in an instant, and an old elm falls 
 prostrate. The outbuildings of a cottage are invaded, 
 and the porkers and cattle, divining their danger, squeal 
 and bellow in affright. But they are quickly silenced. 
 The resistless foe has broken down wall and door, and 
 buried the poor creatures in mud and rubbish. 
 
 The stream next invades the cottage, breaks in 
 through door and window, and filling all the lower part 
 of the tenement, in a few minutes converts it into a heap 
 of ruin. On goes the destroyer, tearing up more trees, 
 levelling more houses, and filling up a small pool, till the 
 latter bursts its banks, and with an accession to its force, 
 pours itself into a mill-dam. Here its waters are stayed 
 until they find a vent underneath, and the action of the 
 stream as it rushes downwards through this exit, forms 
 a great eddy above, in which swim some living things,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 31 
 
 cattle and sheep from the fold not yet drowned, mixed 
 with furniture from the cottages, and amidst them the 
 bodies of some of the unfortunate men-at-arms which 
 have been washed hither. 
 
 But ha ! another thundering crash. The dam has 
 burst. The torrent roars and rushes on furiously as 
 before, joins its forces with Pendle Water, swells up the 
 river, and devastates the country far and wide.* 
 
 The abbot and his companions beheld this work of 
 destruction with amazement and dread. Blanched terror 
 sat in their cheeks, and the blood was frozen in Paslew's 
 veins, for he thought it the work of the powers of 
 darkness, and that he was leagued with them. He tried 
 to mutter a prayer, but his lips refused their office. 
 He would have moved, but his limbs were stiffened 
 and paralysed," and he could only gaze aghast at the 
 terrible spectacle. 
 
 ■ A similar eruption occurred at Pendle Hill in August, 1669, and 
 has been described by Mr. Charles Townley, in a letter cited 
 by Dr. Whitaker in his excellent " History of Whalley." Other 
 and more formidable eruptions had taken place previously, occa- 
 sioning much damage to the country. The cause of the phenomenon 
 is thus explained by Mr. Townley: " The colour of the water, its 
 coming down to the place where it breaks forth between the rock 
 and the earth, with that other particular of its bringing nothing 
 along but stones and earth, are evident signs that it hath not its 
 origin from the very bowels of the mountain ; but that it i3 only 
 rain water coloured first in the moss-pits, of which the top of the 
 hill, being a great and considerable plain, is full, shrunk down into 
 some receptacle fit to contain it, until at last by its weight, or 
 some other cause, it find3 a passage to the sides of the hill, and 
 then away between the rock and swartb, until it break the latter 
 and violently rush out."
 
 32 THE LANCASHIKE WITCHES. 
 
 Amidst it all he heard a wild burst of unearthly 
 laughter proceeding, he thought, from Demdike, and 
 it filled him with new dread. But he could not check 
 the sound, neither could he stop his ears, though he 
 would fain have done so. Like him, his companions 
 were petrified and speechless with fear. 
 
 After this had endured for some time, though 
 still the black torrent rushed on impetuously as ever, 
 Demdike turned to the abbot and said, — 
 
 u Your vengeance has been fully gratified. You 
 will now baptise my child: " 
 
 " Never, never, accursed being!" shrieked the abbot. 
 " Thou mayst sacrifice her at thine own impious rites. 
 But see, there is one poor wretch yet struggling with 
 the foaming torrent. I may save him." 
 
 " That is John Braddyll, thy worst enemy, 5 ' replied 
 Demdike. " If he lives he shall possess half Whalley 
 Abbey. Thou hadst best also save Richard Assheton, 
 who yet clings to the great stone below, as if he 
 escapes he shall have the other half. Mark him, and 
 make haste, for in five minutes both shall be gone." 
 
 " I will save them if I can, be the consequence to 
 myself what it may, 55 replied the abbot. 
 
 And regardless of the derisive laughter of the other, 
 who yelled in his ears as he went, " Bess shall see thee 
 hanged at thy own door," he dashed down the hill to 
 the spot where a small object distinguishable above the 
 stream showed that some one still kept his head above 
 water, his tall stature having preserved him.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 33 
 
 u Is it you, John Braddyll ?" cried the abbot, as he 
 rode np. 
 
 " Ay," replied the head. " Forgive me for the 
 wrong I intended you, and deliver me from this great 
 peril." 
 
 " I am come for that purpose," replied the abbot, 
 dismounting, and disencumbering himself of his heavy 
 cloak. 
 
 By this time the two herdsmen had come up, and 
 the abbot, taking a crook from one of them, clutched 
 hold of the fellow, and plunging fearlessly into the 
 stream, extended it towards the drowning man, who 
 instantly lifted up his hand to grasp it. In doing so 
 Braddyll lost his balance, but as he did not quit his 
 hold, he was plucked forth from the tenacious mud, by 
 the combined efforts of the abbot and his assistant, and 
 with some difficulty dragged ashore. 
 
 11 Now for the other," cried Paslew, as he placed 
 Braddyll in safety. 
 
 " One-half the abbey is gone from thee," shouted a 
 voice in his ears as he rushed on. 
 
 Presently he reached the rocky fragment on which 
 Ralph Assheton rested. The latter was in great 
 danger from the surging torrent, and the stone on 
 which he had taken refuge tottered at its base, and 
 threatened to roll over. 
 
 " In Heaven's name help me, lord abbot, as thou 
 thyself shall be holpen at thy need," shrieked As- 
 sheton. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 "Be not afraid, Richard Assheton," replied Paslew. 
 " I will deliver thee as I have delivered John Braddyll." 
 
 But the task was not of easy accomplishment. The 
 abbot made his preparations as before; grasped the hand 
 of the herdsman and held out the crook to Assheton ; but 
 when the latter caught it, the stream swung him round 
 with such force that the abbot must either abandon 
 him, or advance further into the water. Bent on 
 Assheton's preservation, he adopted the latter expe- 
 dient, and instantly lost his feet, while the herdsman, 
 unable longer to hold him, let go the crook, and the 
 abbot and Assheton were swept down the stream to- 
 gether. 
 
 Down — down they went, destruction apparently 
 awaiting them ; but the abbot, though sometimes quite 
 under the water, and bruised by the rough stones and 
 gravel, with which he came in contact, still retained 
 his self-possession, and encouraged his companion to 
 hope for succour. In this way they were borne down 
 to the foot of the hill, the monks, the herdsmen, 
 and the men-at-arms having given them up as lost. 
 But they yet lived — yet floated — though greatly in- 
 jured, and almost senseless, when they were cast into a 
 pool formed by the eddying waters at the foot of the 
 hill. Here, wholly unable to assist himself, Assheton 
 was seized by a black hound belonging to a tall man, 
 who stood on the bank, and who shouted to Pas- 
 lew, as he helped the animal to bring the drowning 
 man ashore, " The other half of the abbey is gone
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 35 
 
 from thee. Wilt thou baptise my child if I send my 
 dog to save thee ?" 
 
 " Never !" replied the other, sinking as he spoke. 
 Flashes of fire glanced in the abbot's eyes, and stun- 
 ning sounds seemed to burst his ears. A few more 
 struggles and he became senseless. 
 
 But he was not destined to die thus. What hap- 
 pened afterwards he knew not, but when he recovered 
 full consciousness he found himself stretched with aching 
 limbs and throbbing head, upon a couch in a monastic 
 room with a richly painted and gilded ceiling, with 
 shields at the corners emblazoned with the three luces 
 of Whalley, and with panels hung with tapestry from 
 the looms of Flanders, representing divers Scriptural 
 subjects. 
 
 " Have I been dreaming?" he murmured. 
 "No," replied a tall man standing by his bed-side; 
 " thou hast been saved from one death to suffer another 
 more ignominious." 
 
 " Ha !" cried the abbot, starting up and pressing his 
 hand to his temples; " thou here ?" 
 
 " Ay, I am appointed to watch thee/' replied Dem- 
 dike. "Thou art a prisoner in thine own chamber at 
 Whalley. All has befallen as I told thee. The Earl 
 of Derby is master of the abbey ; thy adherents are i 
 dispersed; and thy brethren are driven forth. Thy 
 two partners in rebellion, the abbots of Jervaux and 
 Salley, have been conveyed to Lancaster Castle, whither 
 thou wilt go, as soon as thou canst be moved." 
 d2
 
 36 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " I will surrender all — silver and gold, land and pos- 
 sessions, — to the king, if I may die in peace/ 5 groaned 
 the abbot. 
 
 " It is not needed,'' rejoined the other. " Attainted 
 of felony, thy lands and abbey will be forfeited to the 
 crown, and they shall be sold, as I have told thee, to 
 John Braddyll and Richard Assheton, who will be 
 rulers here in thy stead." 
 
 ie Would I had perished in the flood/ ' groaned the 
 abbot. 
 
 " Well mayst thou wish so," returned his tormentor; 
 " but thou wert not destined to die by water. As I 
 have said, thou shalt be hanged at thy own door, and 
 my wife shall witness thy end." 
 
 "Who art thou? I have heard thy voice before," 
 cried the abbot. " It is like the voice of one whom I 
 knew years ago, and thy features are like his — 
 though changed — greatly changed. Who art thou?" 
 
 " Thou shalt know before thou diest," replied the 
 other, with a look of gratified vengeance. " Farewell, 
 and reflect upon thy fate." 
 
 So saying, he strode towards the door, while the 
 miserable abbot arose, and marching with uncertain 
 steps to a little oratory adjoining, which he himself 
 had built, knelt down before the altar, and strove to 
 pray.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 37 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 WHALLEY ABBEY. 
 
 A sad, sad change hath come over the fair Abbey 
 of Whalley. It knoweth its old masters no longer. 
 For upwards of two centuries and a half hath the 
 " Blessed Place"* grown in beauty and riches. Seven- 
 teen abbots have exercised unbounded hospitality 
 within it, but now they are all gone, save one! — and 
 he is attainted of felony and treason. The grave monk 
 walketh no more in the cloisters, nor seeketh his pallet 
 in the dormitory. Vesper or matin-song resound not 
 as of old wdthin the fine conventual church. Stripped 
 are the altars of their silver crosses, and the shrines of 
 their votive offerings and saintly relics. Pyx and 
 chalice, thuribule and vial, golden-headed pastoral 
 staff, and mitre embossed with pearls, candle-stick 
 and Christmas ship of silver; salver, basin, and ewer 
 — all are gone — the splendid sacristy hath been de- 
 spoiled. 
 
 A sadj sad change hath come over Whalley Abbey. 
 
 * Locus Benedictus de Whalley.
 
 38 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 The libraries, well stored with reverend tomes, have 
 been pillaged, and their contents cast to the flames; 
 and thus long laboured manuscript, the fruit of years of 
 patient industry, with gloriously illuminated missal, are 
 irrecoverably lost. The large infirmary no longer 
 receiveth the sick ; in the locutory sitteth no more the 
 guest. No longer in the mighty kitchens are prepared 
 the prodigious supply of meats destined for the support 
 of the poor or the entertainment of the traveller. No 
 kindly porter stands at the gate, to bid the stranger enter 
 and partake of the munificent abbot's hospitality, but a 
 churlish guard bids him hie away, and menaces him if he 
 tarries with his halbert. Closed are the buttery-hatches 
 and the pantries ; and the daily dole of bread hath ceased. 
 Closed, also, to the brethren is the refectory. The 
 cellarer's office is ended. The strong ale which he 
 brewed in October, is tapped in March by roystering 
 troopers. The rich muscadel and malmsey, and the wines 
 of Gascoigne and the Rhine are no longer quaffed by the 
 abbot and his more honoured guests, but drunk to his 
 destruction by his foes. The great gallery, a hundred 
 and fifty feet in length, the pride of the abbot's lodging, 
 and a model of architecture, is filled, not with white- 
 robed ecclesiastics, but with an armed earl and his 
 retainers. Neglected is the little oratory dedicated to 
 Our Lady of Whalley, where night and morn the 
 abbot used to pray. All the old religious and hospitable 
 uses of the abbey are foregone. The reverend still- 
 ness of the cloisters, scarce broken by the quiet tread
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 39 
 
 of the monks, is now disturbed by armed heel and clank 
 of sword; while in its saintly courts are heard the 
 ribald song, the profane jest, and the angry brawl. Of 
 the brethren, only those tenanting the cemetery are left. 
 All else are gone, driven forth, as vagabonds, with 
 stripes and curses, to seek refuge where they may. 
 
 A sad, sad change has come over Whalley Abbey # 
 In the plenitude of its pride and power has it been 
 cast down, desecrated, despoiled. Its treasures are 
 carried off, its ornaments sold, its granaries emptied, 
 its possessions wasted, its storehouses sacked, its cattle 
 slaughtered and sold. But, though stripped of its 
 wealth and splendour ; though deprived of all the 
 religious graces that, like rich incense, lent an odour 
 to the fane, its external beauty is yet unimpaired, and 
 its vast proportions undiminished. 
 
 A stately pile was Whalley — one of the loveliest 
 as well as the largest in the realm. Carefully had it 
 been preserved by its reverend rulers, and where repa- 
 rations or additions were needed they were judiciously 
 made. Thus age had lent it beauty, by mellowing its 
 freshness and toning its hues, while no decay was 
 perceptible. Without a struggle had it yielded to the 
 captor, so that no part of its wide belt of walls or 
 towers, though so strongly constructed as to have 
 offered effectual resistance, were injured. 
 
 Never had Whalley Abbey looked more beautiful than 
 on a bright, clear morning in March, when this sad change 
 had been wrought, and when from a peaceful monastic
 
 40 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 establishment it had been converted into a menacing 
 fortress. The sun-light sparkled upon its grey walls, 
 and filled its three great quadrangular courts with light 
 and life, piercing the exquisite carving of its cloisters, 
 and revealing all the intricate beauty and combinations 
 of the arches. Stains of painted glass fell upon 
 the floor of the magnificent conventual church and 
 dyed with rainbow hues the marble tombs of the 
 Lacies, the founders of the establishment, brought 
 thither when the monastery was removed from Stanlaw 
 in Cheshire, and upon the brass-covered grave- stones of 
 the abbots in the presbytery. There lay Gregory de 
 JNorthbury, eighth abbot of Stanlaw and first of Whal- 
 ley, and William Rede, the last abbot ; but there was 
 never to lie John Paslew. The slumber of the ancient 
 prelates was soon to be disturbed, and the sacred struc- 
 ture within which they had so often worshipped up- 
 reared by sacrilegious hands. But all was bright and 
 beauteous now, and if no solemn strains were heard in 
 the holy pile, its stillness was scarcely less reverential and 
 awe-inspiring. The old abbey wreathed itself in all its 
 attractions, as if to welcome back its former ruler, 
 whereas it was only to receive him as a captive doomed 
 to a felon's death. 
 
 But this was outward show. Within all was terrible 
 preparation. Such was the discontented state of the 
 country, that fearing some new revolt, the Earl of 
 Derby had taken measures for the defence of the 
 abbey, and along the wide-circling walls of the close
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 41 
 
 were placed ordnance and men, and within the grange 
 stores of ammunition. A strong guard was set at each of 
 the gates, and the courts were filled with troops. The 
 bray of the trumpet echoed within the close, where 
 rounds were set for the archers, and martial music re- 
 sounded within the area of the cloisters. Over the 
 great north-eastern gateway, which formed the chief 
 entrance to the abbot's lodging, floated the royal 
 banner. Despite these warlike proceedings the fair 
 abbey smiled beneath the sun, in all, or more than 
 all, its pristine beauty, its green hills sloping gently 
 down towards it, and the clear and sparkling Calder 
 dashing merrily over the stones at its base. 
 
 But upon the bridge, and by the river side, and 
 within the little village many persons were assembled, 
 conversing gravely and anxiously together, and looking 
 out towards the hills, where other groups were gathered, 
 as if in expectation of some afflicting event. Most 
 of these were herdsmen and farming men, but some 
 among them were poor monks in the white habits of 
 the Cistertian brotherhood, but which were now stained 
 and threadbare, while their countenances bore traces of 
 severest privation and suffering. All the herdsmen 
 and farmers had been retainers of the abbot. The 
 poor monks looked wistfully at their former habitation, 
 but replied not except by a gentle bowing of the head 
 to the cruel scoffs and taunts with which they were 
 greeted by the passing soldiers; but the sturdy rustics
 
 42 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 did not bear these outrages so tamely, and more than one 
 brawl ensued, in which blood flowed, while a ruffianly 
 arquebussier would have been drowned in the Calder 
 but for the exertions to save him of a monk whom he 
 had attacked. 
 
 This took place on the eleventh of March, 1537 — 
 more than three months after the date of the watching 
 by the beacon before recorded — and the event anti- 
 cipated by the concourse without the abbey, as well as 
 by those within its walls, was the arrival of Abbot 
 Paslew and Fathers Eastgate and Haydocke, who were 
 to be brought on that day from Lancaster, and executed 
 on the following morning before the abbey, according 
 to sentence passed upon them. 
 
 The gloomiest object in the picture remains to be 
 described, but yet it is necessary to its completion. 
 This was a gallows of unusual form and height, erected 
 on the summit of a gentle hill, rising immediately 
 in front of the abbot's lodgings, called the Holehouses, 
 whose rounded, bosomy beauty, it completely destroyed. 
 This terrible apparatus of condign punishment was 
 regarded with abhorrence by the rustics, and it re- 
 quired a strong guard to be kept constantly round it 
 to preserve it from demolition. 
 
 Amongst a group of rustics collected on the road 
 leading to the north-east gateway, was Cuthbert 
 Ashbead, who having been deprived of his forester's 
 office, was now habited in a frieze doublet and hose, with
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 43 
 
 a short camlet cloak on his shoulder, and a fox -skin 
 cap, embellished with the grinning jaws of the beast on 
 his head. 
 
 " Eigh, Ruchot o' Roaph's," he observed to a by- 
 stander, " that's a fearfo seet that gallas. Yoan been 
 up to t' Holehouses to tey a look at it, beloike?" 
 
 "Naw, naw, ey dunna loike such seets," replied 
 Ruchot o' Roaph's; " besoide there wor a great rabble- 
 ment at t' geate, an one o' them lunjus archer chaps 
 knockt meh o' t' nob wi' his poike, an towd me he'd 
 hong me wi' t' abbut, if ey didna keep owt ot wey." 
 
 " An sarve te reet too, theaw craddinly carl !" cried 
 Ashbead, doubling his horny fists. " Odds flesh ! whey 
 didna yo ha' a tussle wi' him ? Mey honts are itchen for 
 a bowt wi' t' heretic robbers. Walladey ! walladey ! 
 that we should live to see t' oly feythers driven loike 
 hummobees owt o' t' owd neest. Whey they sayn 
 ot King Harry hon decreet ot we're to ha' naw more 
 monks or friars i' aw Englondshiar. Ony think o' that. 
 An dunna yo knoa that t' Abbuts o' Jervaux an Salley 
 wor hongt o' Tizeday at Loncaster Castle?" 
 
 " Good lorjus bless us!" exclaimed a sturdy hind, 
 " we'n a protty king. Furst he chops off his woife's 
 heaod, an then hongs aw t' priests. Whot'U t' warlt 
 cum to !" 
 
 " Eigh, by t' mess, whot win it cum to ?" cried 
 Ruchot o' Roaph's. u But we darrna oppen owr 
 mows fo' fear o' a gog."
 
 44 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Naw, beleady ! boh eyst oppen moine woide enuff," 
 cried Aslibead ; " an' if a dozen o' yo chaps win 
 join me, eyn try to set t' poor abbut free whon they 
 brinks him here." 
 
 " Ey'd as leef boide till to-morrow," said Ruchot o' 
 Roaph's, uneasily. 
 
 " Eigh, thou'rt a timmersome teyke, os ey towd te 
 efore," replied Ashbead. " But whot dust theaw say, 
 Hal o' Nabs ?" he added, to the sturdy hind who had 
 recently spoken. 
 
 " Ey'n spill t' last drop o' meh blood i' t' owd abbut's 
 keawse," replied Hal o' Nabs. *' We winna stond by, 
 an see him hongt loike a dog. Abbut Paslew to t' 
 reskew, lads !" 
 
 " Eigh, Abbut Paslew to t' reskew!" responded all 
 the others, except Ruchot o' Roaph's. 
 
 " This must be prevented," muttered a voice near 
 them. And immediately afterwards a tall man quitted 
 the group. 
 
 " Whoa wor it spoake ?" cried Hal o' Nabs. "Oh, 
 ey seen, that he-witch, Nick Demdike." 
 
 "Nick Demdike here!" cried Ashbead, looking 
 round in alarm. ' 4 Has he owerheert us?" 
 
 " Loike enow," replied Hal o' Nabs. " But ey 
 didna moind him efore." 
 
 " Naw ey noather," cried Ruchot o' Roapli's, crossing 
 himself, and spitting on the ground. " Owr Leady o' 
 Whalley shielt us fro' t' warlock !"
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 45 
 
 " Tawkin o' Nick Demdike," cried Hal o' Nabs, 
 " yo'd a strawnge odventer wi' him t' neet o' t' great 
 brast o' Pendle Hill, hadna yo, Cuthbert?" 
 
 " Yeigh, t'firrups tak' him, ey hadn," replied Ashbead. 
 " Theawst hear aw abowt it if t' will. Ey wur sent be 
 t' abbut down t' hill to Owen o' Gab's, o' Perkin's, o' 
 DanneFs, o' Noll's, o' Oamfrey's orchert i' Warston lone, 
 to luk efter him. Weel, whon ey gets ower t' stoan wa', 
 whot dun yo think ey sees ! twanty or throtty poike- 
 men stonding behint it, an they deshes at meh os thick 
 os leet, an efore ey con roor oot, they blintfowlt meh, 
 an clap anirongog i' meh mouth. Weel, I con noather 
 speak nor see, boh ey con use meh feet, soh ey punses 
 at 'em reet an' laft ; an be meh troath, lads, yood'n a 
 leawght t 5 hear how they roart, an ey should a roart 
 too, if I coulcln, whon they began to thwack me wi' 
 their raddling pows, an ding'd meh so abowt t' heaod, 
 that ey fell i' a swownd. Whon ey cum to, ey wur 
 loyin o' meh back i' Rimington Moor. Every booan 
 i' meh hoide wratcht, an meh hewr war clottert wi' gore, 
 boh t' eebond an t' gog wur gone, soh ey gets o' meh 
 feet, an daddies along os weel os ey con, whon aw ot 
 wunce ey spies a leet glenting efore meh, an dawnc- 
 ing abowt loike an awf or a wull-o 1 -whisp. Thinks 
 ey, that's Friar Rush an' his lantern, an' he'll lead me 
 into a quagmire, soh ey stops a bit, to consider where 
 ey'd getten, for ey didna knoa t' reet road exactly ; 
 boh whon ey stood still, t' leet stood still too, on then 
 ey meyd owt that it cum fro an owd ruint tower, an
 
 46 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 whot ey'd fancied wur one lantern proved twanty, fo* 
 whon ey reacht t' tower an peept in thro' a brok'n 
 winda, ey beheld a seet ey'st neer forgit — apack o' 
 witches — eigh, witches I — sittin' in a ring, wi' their 
 broomsticks an lanterns abowt em !" 
 
 " Good lorjus deys !" cried Hal o'Nabs. " An whot 
 else didsta see, mon V 
 
 Cl Whoy," replied Ashbead, " t'owd hags had a little 
 figure i 3 t' midst on 'em, mowded i 9 cley, representing t' 
 abbut o' Whalley, — ey knoad it be't moitre an crosier, 
 — an efter each o' t' varment had stickt a pin i' its 'eart, 
 a tall black mon stepped for'ard, an teed a cord rownd 
 its throttle, an hongt it up." 
 
 " An' t' black mon,*' cried Hal o' Nabs, breathlessly, 
 — " t' black mon wur Nick Demdike ?" 
 
 " Yoan guest it," replied Ashbead, " 't wur he ! Ey 
 wur so glopp'nt, ey couldna speak, an' meh blud fruz i' 
 meh veins, when ey heerd a fearfo voice ask Nick wheere 
 his woife an' chilt were. ' The infant is unbaptised/ 
 roart t 5 voice, ■ at the next meeting it must be sacrificed. 
 See that thou bring it/ Demdike then bowed to Sum- 
 mat I couldna see, an axt when t' next meetins: wur to 
 be held. ' On the night of Abbot Paslew's execution/ 
 awnsert t' voice. On hearing this, ey could bear nah 
 lunger, boh shouted out, ( Witches ! devils ! Lort deliver 
 us fro' ye !' An' os ey spoke, ey tried t' barst thro' t' win- 
 da. In a trice, aw t' leets went out ; thar wur a great 
 rash to t' dooer ; a whirrin sound i 5 th' air loike a covey 
 o' partriches fleeing off; and then ey heerd nowt more ;
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 47 
 
 for a great stoan fell o' meh scoance, an' knockt me down 
 senseless. When I cum' to, I wur i' Nick Demdike's 
 cottage, wi"* his woife watching ower me, and th' unbap- 
 teesed chilt i' her arms." 
 
 x\ll exclamations of wonder on the part of the rustics, 
 and inquiries as to the issue of the adventure, were 
 checked by the approach of a monk, who, joining the 
 assemblage, called their attention to a priestly train 
 slowly advancing along the road. 
 
 " It is headed," he said, " by Fathers Chatburne and 
 Chester, late bursers of the abbey. Alack! alack! 
 they now need the charity themselves which they once 
 so lavishly bestowed on others." 
 
 " Waes me !" ejaculated Ashbead. " Monry a broad 
 merk han ey getten fro 'em." 
 
 " They'n been koind to us aw," added the others. 
 
 " Next come Father Burnley, granger, and Father 
 Haworth, cellarer," pursued the monk; " and after them 
 Father Dinkley, sacristan, and Father Moore, porter." 
 
 "Yo remember Feyther Moore, lads," cried Ash- 
 bead. 
 
 " Yeigh, to be sure we done," replied the others, "a 
 good mon, a reet good mon ! He never sent away t' 
 poor — naw he !" 
 
 " After Father Moore," said the monk, pleased with 
 their warmth, " comes Father Forrest, the procurator, 
 with Fathers Rede, Clough, and Bancroft, and the 
 procession is closed by Father Smith, the late prior."
 
 48 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Do wno' yer whirlybooans, lads, as t' oly feythers 
 pass," cried Ashbead, u and crave their blessing." 
 
 And as the priestly train slowly approached, with 
 heads bowed down, and looks fixed sadly upon the 
 ground, the rustic assemblage fell upon their knees, 
 and implored their benediction. The foremost in the 
 procession passed on in silence, but the prior stopped, 
 and extending his hands over the kneeling group, cried 
 in a solemn voice, 
 
 " Heaven bless ye, my children. Ye are about to 
 witness a sad spectacle. You will see him who has 
 clothed you, fed you, and taught you the way to hea- 
 ven, brought hither a prisoner, to suffer a shameful 
 death." 
 
 "Boh we'st set him free, oly prior," cried Ash- 
 bead. " We'n meayed up our moinds to 't. Yo just 
 wait till he cums." 
 
 ei Nay, I command you to desist from the attempt, 
 if any such "you meditate," rejoined the prior ; "it 
 will avail nothing, and you will only sacrifice your own 
 lives. Our enemies are too strong. The abbot himself 
 would give you like counsel." 
 
 Scarcely were the words uttered than from the great 
 gate of the abbey there issued a dozen arquebussiers 
 with an officer at their head, who marched directly to- 
 wards the kneeling hinds, evidently with the intention 
 of dispersing them. Behind them strode Nicholas Dem- 
 dike. In an instant the alarmed rustics were on their
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 49 
 
 feet, and Ruchot o* Roaph's, and some few among them, 
 took to their heels, but Ashbead, Hal o' Nabs, with 
 half-a-dozen others, stood their ground manfully. The 
 monks remained in the hope of preventing any vio- 
 lence. Presently the halberdiers came up. 
 
 " That is the ringleader/' cried the officer, who 
 proved to be Richard Assheton, pointing out Ashbead, 
 " seize him." 
 
 "Naw mon shall lay honts o' men/' cried Cuthbert. 
 
 And as the guard pushed past the monks to execute 
 their leader's order, he sprang forward, and wresting 
 a halbert from the foremost of them, stood upon his de- 
 fence. 
 
 " Seize him, I say," shouted Assheton, irritated at 
 the resistance offered. 
 
 " Keep off," cried Ashbead, " yo'd best. Loike 
 a stag at bey ey'm dawngerous. Waar horns! waar 
 horns ! ey sey." 
 
 The arquebussiers looked irresolute. It was evident 
 Ashbead would only be taken with life, and they 
 were not sure that it was their leader's purpose to 
 destroy him. 
 
 " Put down thy weapon, Cuthbert," interposed the 
 prior; " it will avail thee nothing against odds like 
 these." 
 
 " Mey be, oly prior," rejoined Ashbead, flourishing 
 the pike ; " boh ey'st ony yield wi' loife." 
 
 "I will disarm him," cried Demdike, stepping for- 
 ward. 
 
 TOL. I. E
 
 50 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 u Theaw !" retorted Ashbead, with a scornful laugh, 
 " Cum on then. Hadsta aw t' fiends i' hell at te back, 
 ey shouldna fear thee." 
 
 " Yield !" cried Demdike, in a voice of thunder, and 
 fixing a terrible glance upon him. 
 
 " Cum on, wizard," rejoined Ashbead, undauntedly. 
 But, observing that his opponent was wholly unarmed, 
 he gave the pike to Hal o' Nabs, who was close be- 
 side him, observing, " It shall never be said that Cuth- 
 bert Ashbead feawt t' dule himsel unfairly. Nah, touch 
 meh if theaw dar'st." 
 
 Demdike required no further provocation. With 
 almost supernatural force and quickness he sprung 
 upon the forester, and seized him by the -throat. 
 But the active young man freed himself from the 
 gripe, and closed with his assailant. But though of 
 Herculean build, it soon became evident that Ashbead 
 would have the worst of it, when Hal o' Nabs, who 
 had watched the struggle with intense interest, could 
 not help coming to his friend's assistance, and made a 
 push at Demdike with the halbert. 
 
 Could it be that the wrestlers shifted their position, or 
 that the wizard was indeed aided by the powers of dark- 
 ness? None could tell, but so it was that the pike pierced 
 the side of Ashbead, who instantly fell to the ground, 
 with his adversary upon him. The next instant his 
 hold relaxed, and the wizard sprang to his feet un- 
 harmed, but deluged in blood. Hal o' Nabs uttered a cry
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 51 
 
 of keenest anguish, and, flinging himself upon the body 
 of the forester, tried to staunch the wound ; but he was 
 quickly seized by the arquebussiers, and his hands tied 
 behind his back with a thong, while Ashbead was 
 lifted up and borne towards the abbey, the monks and 
 rustics following slowly after; but the latter were not 
 permitted to enter the gate. 
 
 As the unfortunate keeper, who by this time had 
 become insensible from loss of blood, was carried along 
 the walled enclosure leading to the abbot's lodging', a 
 female with a child in her arms was seen advancing 
 from the opposite side. She was tall, finely formed, 
 with features of remarkable beauty, though of a 
 masculine and somewhat savage character, and with 
 magnificent but fierce black eyes. Her skin was dark, 
 and her hair raven black, contrasting strongly with 
 the red band wound around it. Her kirtle was 
 of murrey-coloured serge ; simply, but becomingly 
 fashioned. A glance sufficed to show her how matters 
 stood with poor Ashbead, and uttering a sharp angry 
 cry, she rushed towards him. 
 
 "What have you done?" she cried, fixing a keen, 
 reproachful look on Demdike, who walked beside the 
 wounded man. 
 
 " Nothing," replied Demdike, with a bitter laugh, 
 " the fool has been hurt with a pike. Stand out of the 
 way, Bess, and let the men pass. They are about to 
 carry him to the cell under the chapter-house/' 
 e 2 
 
 SUoMU-NO*
 
 52 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " You shall not take Him there," cried Bess Demdike, 
 fiercely. " He may recover if his wound be dressed. 
 Let him go to the infirmary — ha, I forgot — there is no 
 one there now." 
 
 " Father Bancroft is at the gate," observed one of the 
 srquebussiers, "he used to act as chirurgeon in the 
 abbey." 
 
 "No monk must enter the gate except the prisoners 
 when they arrive," observed Assheton; "such are the 
 positive orders of the Earl of Derby." 
 
 "It is not needed/' observed Demdike, " no human 
 aid can save the man." 
 
 " But can other aid save him?" said Bess, breathing 
 the words in her husband's ears. 
 
 " Go to," cried Demdike, pushing her roughly aside; 
 "wouldst have me save thy lover?" 
 
 " Take heed," said Bess, in a deep whisper; " if thou 
 save him not, by the devil thou servest ! thou shalt lose 
 me and thy child." 
 
 Demdike did not think proper to contest the point, 
 but approaching Assheton, requested that the wounded 
 man might be conveyed to an arched recess, which 
 he pointed out. Assent being given, Ashbead was 
 taken there, and placed upon the ground, after which 
 the arquebussiers and their leader marched off, while 
 Bess, kneeling down, supported the head of the wounded 
 man upon her knee, and Demdike, taking a small phial 
 from his doublet, poured some of its contents down his
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 53 
 
 throat. The wizard then took a fold of linen, with 
 which he was likewise provided, and dipping it in the 
 elixir, applied it to the wound. 
 
 In a few moments Ashbead opened his eyes, and 
 looking round wildly, fixed his gaze upon Bess, who 
 placed her finger upon her lips to enjoin silence, but he 
 could not, or would not, understand the sign. 
 
 " Aw's o'er wi' meh, Bess," he groaned, " but ey'd 
 reyther dee thus, wi' thee besoide meh, than i' ony other 
 wey." 
 
 " Hush!" exclaimed Bess, " Nicholas is here." 
 
 " Oh ! ey see," replied the wounded man, looking 
 round, " boh whot matters it ? Ey'st be gone 
 soon. Ah, Bess, dear lass, if theawdst promise to 
 break thy compact wi' Satan — to repent and save thy 
 precious sowl — ey should dee content." 
 
 " Oh do not talk thus !" cried Bess. " You will soon 
 be well again." 
 
 u Listen to me," continued Ashbead, earnestly, " dust 
 na knoa that if thy babe be na bapteesed efore to-morrow 
 neet it'll be sacrificed to t' Prince o' Darkness. Go 
 to some o't oly feythers — confess thy sins an' implore 
 heaven's forgiveness — an' mayhap they'll save thee an' 
 thy infant." 
 
 " And be burned as a witch," rejoined Bess, fiercely. 
 " It is useless, Cuthbert, I have tried them all. I have 
 knelt to them, implored them, but their hearts are 
 hard as flints. They will not heed me. They will not
 
 54 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 disobey the abbot's cruel injunctions, though he be their 
 superior no longer. But I shall be avenged upon him 
 —terribly avenged." 
 
 " Leave rneh, theaw wicked woman," cried Ash- 
 bead; " ey dunna wish to ha' thee near rneh. Let meh 
 dee i' peace." 
 
 tc Thou wilt not die, I tell thee, Cuthbert," cried 
 Bess; " Nicholas hath staunched thy wound." 
 
 " He stawncht it, seyst to?" cried Ashbead, raising. 
 "Ey'st never owe meh loife to him." 
 
 And before he could be prevented he tore off the 
 bandage, and the blood burst forth anew. 
 
 "It is not my fault if he perishes now," observed 
 Demdike, moodily. 
 
 " Help him — help him !" implored Bess. 
 
 " He shanna touch meh," cried Ashbead, struggling 
 and increasing the effusion. " Keep him off ey ad- 
 jure thee. Farewell, Bess," he added, sinking back 
 utterly exhausted by the effort. 
 
 " Cuthbert I" screamed Bess, terrified by his looks, 
 " Cuthbert ! art thou really dying? Look at me, speak 
 to me! Hal" she cried, as if seized by a sudden 
 idea, " they say the blessing of a dying man will 
 avail. Bless my child, Cuthbert, bless it !" 
 
 " Give it me !" groaned the forester. 
 
 Bess held the infant towards him, but before he 
 <;ould place his hands upon it all power forsook him, 
 and he fell back and expired.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 55 
 
 "Lost! lost! for ever lost!" cried Bess, with a wild 
 shriek. 
 
 At this moment a loud blast was blown from the 
 gate-tower, and a trumpeter called out, 
 
 " The abbot and the two other prisoners are 
 coming." 
 
 " To thy feet, wench," cried Demdike, imperiously, 
 and seizing the bewildered woman by the arm, " to thy 
 feet, and come with me to meet him."
 
 56 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE MALEDICTION. 
 
 The captive ecclesiastics, together with the strong 
 escort by which they were attended, under the command 
 of John Braddyll, the high sheriff of the county, had 
 passed the previous night at Whitewell, in Bowland 
 Forest ; and the abbot, before setting out on his final 
 journey, was permitted to spend an hour in prayer in a 
 little chapel on an adjoining hill, overlooking a most 
 picturesque portion of the forest, the beauties of which 
 were enhanced by the windings of the Hodder, one of 
 the loveliest streams in Lancashire. His devotions per- 
 formed, Paslew, attended by a guard, slowly descended 
 the hill, and gazed his last on scenes familiar to him 
 almost from infancy. Noble trees, which now looked like 
 old friends, to whom he was bidding an eternal adieu, 
 stood around him. Beneath them, at the end of a 
 glade, couched a herd of deer, which started off at 
 sight of the intruders, and made him envy their free- 
 dom and fleetness as he followed them in thought to 
 their solitudes. At the foot of a steep rock ran 
 the Hodder, making the pleasant music of other days
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 57 
 
 as it dashed over its pebbly bed, and recalling times, 
 when free from all care, he had strayed by its wood- 
 fringed banks, to listen to the pleasant sound of running 
 waters, and watch the shining pebbles beneath them, 
 and the swift trout and dainty umber glancing past. 
 
 A bitter pang was it to part with scenes so fair, 
 and the abbot spoke no word, nor even looked up, 
 until, passing Little Mitton, he came in sight of 
 Whalley Abbey. Then collecting all his energies, he 
 prepared for the shock he was about to endure. But 
 nerved as he was, his firmness was sorely tried when 
 he beheld the stately pile, once his own, now gone 
 from him and his for ever. He gave one fond glance 
 towards it, and then painfully averting his gaze, re- 
 cited, in a low voice, this supplication : 
 
 " Miserere mei Deus, secundum magnam misericor- 
 diam tuam. Et secundum multitudinem miserationum 
 tuarum, dele iniquitatem meam. Amplius lava me ab 
 iniquitate med, et a peccato meo munda me." 
 
 But other thoughts, and other emotions, crowded 
 upon him, when he beheld the groups of his old re- 
 tainers advancing to meet him : men, women, and chil- 
 dren, pouring forth loud lamentations, prostrating 
 themselves at his feet, and deploring his doom. The 
 abbot's fortitude had a severe trial here, and the tears 
 sprung to his eyes. The devotion of these poor people 
 touched him more sharply than the severity of his 
 adversaries. 
 
 " Bless ye ! bless ye ! my children, " he cried; "re-
 
 58 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 pine not for me, for I bear my cross with resignation. 
 It is for me to bewail your lot, much fearing that the 
 flock I have so long and so zealously tended will fall 
 into the hands of other and less heedful pastors, or still 
 worse, of devouring wolves. Bless ye, my children, and 
 be comforted. Think of the end of Abbot Paslew, 
 and for what he suffered." 
 
 " Think that he was a traitor to the king, and took 
 up arms in rebellion against him," cried the sheriff 
 riding up, and speaking in a loud voice; " and that 
 for his heinous offences he was justly condemned to 
 death." 
 
 Murmurs arose at this speech, but they were instantly 
 checked by the escort. 
 
 a Think charitably of me, my children," said the 
 abbot, " and the blessed Virgin keep you steadfast in 
 your faith. Benedicite 1" 
 
 " Be silent, traitor, I command thee," cried the 
 sheriff, striking him with his gauntlet in the face. 
 
 The abbot's pale cheek burnt crimson, and his eye 
 flashed fire, but he controlled himself, and answered 
 meekly, 
 
 " Thou didst not speak in such wise, John Braddyll, 
 when I saved thee from the flood." 
 
 " Which flood thou thyself caused to burst forth 
 by devilish arts," rejoined the sheriff. "I owe thee 
 little for the service. If for naught else thou deservest 
 death for thy evil doings on that night." 
 
 The abbot made no reply, for BraddylPs allusion
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 59 
 
 conjured up a sombre train of thought within his breast, 
 awakening apprehensions which he could neither ac- 
 count for, nor shake off. Meanwhile, the cavalcade 
 slowly approached the north-east gateway of the 
 abbey — passing through crowds of kneeling and sor- 
 rowing bystanders, — but so deeply was the abbot en- 
 grossed by the one dread idea that possessed him, that he 
 saw them not, and scarce heard their woeful lamentations. 
 All at once the cavalcade stopped, and the sheriff rode 
 on to the gate, in the opening of which some ceremony 
 was observed. Then it was that Paslew raised his eyes, 
 and beheld standing before him a tall man, with a woman 
 beside him bearing an infant in her arms. The eyes of 
 the pair were fixed upon him with vindictive exulta- 
 tion. He would have averted his gaze, but an irre- 
 sistible fascination withheld him. 
 
 u Thou seest all is prepared," said Demdike, coming 
 close up to the mule, on which Paslew was mounted, 
 and pointing to the gigantic gallows, looming above 
 the abbey walls; " wilt thou now accede to my request?" 
 And then he added, significantly — " on the same terms 
 as before/' 
 
 The abbot understood his meaning well. Life and 
 freedom were offered him by a being, whose power 
 to accomplish his promise he did not doubt. The 
 struggle was hard ; but he resisted the temptation, and 
 answered firmly, 
 
 " No. 5 '
 
 60 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Then die the felon death thou meritest," cried Bess, 
 fiercely; " and I will glut mine eyes with the spectacle/' 
 
 Incensed beyond endurance, the abbot looked sternly 
 at her, and raised his hand, in denunciation. The action 
 and the look were so appalling, that the affrighted woman 
 would have fled if her husband had not restrained her. 
 
 " By the holy patriarchs and prophets ; by the pre- 
 lates and confessors ; by the doctors of the church ; by 
 the holy abbots, monks, and eremites, who dwelt in 
 solitudes, in mountains, and in caverns ; by the holy 
 saints and martyrs, who suffered torture and death for 
 their faith, I curse thee, witch," cried Paslew. " May 
 the malediction of Heaven and all its hosts alight 
 on the head of thy infant — " 
 
 " Oh ! holy abbot/' shrieked Bess, breaking from her 
 husband, and flinging herself at Paslew's feet, " curse 
 me, if thou wilt, but spare my innocent child. Save it, 
 and we will save thee." 
 
 " Avoid thee, wretched and impious woman," re- 
 joined the abbot; "I have pronounced the dread 
 anathema, and it cannot be recalled. Look at the drip- 
 ping garments of thy child. In blood has it been bap- 
 tised, and through blood-stained paths shall its course be 
 taken." 
 
 " Ha !" shrieked Bess, noticing for the first time the 
 ensanguined condition of the infantas attire. " Cuth- 
 bert's blood — oh !" 
 
 " Listen to me, wicked woman," pursued the abbot,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 61 
 
 as if filled with a prophetic spirit. "Thy child's life 
 shall be long — beyond the ordinary term of woman, — 
 but it shall be a life of woe and ill." 
 
 " Oh! stay him — stay him; or I shall die!" cried 
 Bess. 
 
 But the wizard could not speak. A greater power 
 than his own apparently overmastered him. 
 
 11 Children shall she have," continued the abbot, " and 
 children's children, but they shall be a race doomed 
 and accursed — a brood of adders, that the world shall 
 flee from and crush. A thing accursed, and shunned 
 by her fellows shall thy daughter be, — evil reputed and 
 evil doing. No hand to help her — no lip to bless her — 
 life a burden, and death — long, long in coming — find- 
 ing her in a dismal dungeon. Now, depart from me, 
 and trouble me no more." 
 
 Bess made a motion as if she would go, and then 
 turning partly round, dropped heavily on the ground. 
 Demdike caught the child, ere she fell. 
 
 " Thou hast killed her!" he cried to the abbot. 
 
 11 A stronger voice than mine hath spoken, if it be 
 so," rejoined Paslew. " Fuge misemme,fuge malefice, 
 quia judex adest iratus." 
 
 At this moment, the trumpet again sounded, and the 
 cavalcade being put in motion, the abbot and his fellow- 
 captives passed through the gate. 
 
 Dismounting from their mules within the court, 
 before the chapter-house, the captive ecclesiastics, pre- 
 ceded by the sheriff, were led to the principal chamber
 
 62 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 of the structure, where the Earl of Derby awaited them, 
 seated in the Gothic carved oak chair, formerly occupied 
 by the abbots of Whalley on the occasions of con- 
 ferences or elections. The earl was surrounded by his 
 officers, and the chamber was filled with armed men. 
 The abbot slowly advanced towards the earl. His 
 deportment was dignified and firm, even majestic. The 
 exaltation of spirit, occasioned by the interview with 
 Demdike and his wife, had passed away, and was 
 succeeded by a profound calm. The hue of his check 
 was livid, but otherwise he seemed wholly unmoved. 
 
 The ceremony of delivering up the bodies of the 
 prisoners to the earl was gone through by the sheriff, 
 and their sentences were then read aloud by a clerk. 
 After this the earl, who had hitherto remained covered, 
 took off his cap, and in a solemn voice spoke : — 
 
 " John Paslew, somewhile abbot of Whalley, but 
 now an attainted and condemned felon, and John East- 
 gate and William Haydocke, formerly brethren of the 
 same monastery, and confederates with him in crime, 
 ye have heard your doom. To-morrow you shall die 
 the ignominious death of traitors, but the king in 
 his mercy, having regard not so much to the heinous 
 nature of your offences towards his sovereign majesty 
 as to the sacred offices you once held, and of which 
 you have been shamefully deprived, is graciously pleased 
 to remit that part of your sentence, whereby ye are 
 condemned to be quartered alive, willing that the 
 hearts which conceived so much malice and violence
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 63 
 
 against him should cease to beat within your own 
 bosoms, and that the arms which were raised in rebellion 
 against him should be interred in one common grave 
 with the trunks to which they belong." 
 
 " God save the high and puissant king, Henry the 
 Eighth, and free him from all traitors !" cried the clerk. 
 
 " We humbly thank his majesty for his clemency," 
 said the abbot, amid the profound silence that ensued ; 
 "and I pray you, my good lord, when you shall 
 write to the king concerning us, to say to his majesty 
 that we died penitent of many and grave offences, 
 amongst the which is chiefly that of having taken 
 up arms unlawfully against him, but that we did so 
 solely with the view of freeing his highness from evil 
 counsellors, and of re-establishing our holy church, for 
 the which we would willingly die, if our death might 
 in anywise profit it." 
 
 " Amen !" exclaimed Father Eastgate, who stood 
 with his hands crossed upon his breast, close behind 
 Paslew. " The abbot hath uttered my sentiments.'* 
 
 " He hath not uttered mine," cried Father Haydocke. 
 u I ask no grace from the bloody Herodias, and will accept 
 none. What I have done I would do again, were the 
 past to return — nay, I would do more — I would find a 
 way to reach the tyrant's heart, and thus free our 
 church from its worst enemy, and the land from a ruth- 
 less oppressor." 
 
 " Remove him," said the earl, " the vile traitor 
 shall be dealt with as he merits. For you," he added,
 
 64 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 as the order was obeyed, and addressing the other pri- 
 soners, " and especially you, John Paslew, who have 
 shown some compunction for your crimes, and to prove 
 to you that the king is not the ruthless tyrant he hath 
 been just represented, I hereby in his name promise you 
 any boon, which you may ask consistently with your 
 situation. What favour would you have shown you ?" 
 
 The abbot reflected for a moment. 
 
 " Speak thou, John Eastgate," said the Earl of 
 Derby, seeing that the abbot was occupied in thought. 
 
 " If I may proffer a request, my lord," replied the 
 monk, " it is that our poor distraught brother, William 
 Haydocke, be spared the quartering block. He meant 
 not what he said." 
 
 " Well, be it as thou wilt," replied the earl, bending 
 his brows, " though he ill deserves such grace. Now, 
 John Paslew, what wouldst thou ?" 
 
 Thus addressed, the abbot looked up. 
 
 u I would have made the same request as my bro- 
 ther, John Eastgate, if he had not anticipated me, my 
 lord," said Paslew ; " but since his petition is granted, I 
 would, on my own part, entreat that mass be said for us 
 in the convent church. Many of the brethren are without 
 the abbey, and, if permitted, will assist at its per- 
 formance." 
 
 " I know not if I shall not incur the king's displea- 
 sure in assenting," replied the Earl of Derby, after a 
 little reflection ; "but I will hazard it. Mass for the 
 dead shall be said in the church at midnight, and all
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 65 
 
 the brethren who choose to come thither shall be per- 
 mitted to assist at it. They will attend, I doubt not, for 
 it will be the last time the rites of the Romish church 
 will be performed in those walls. They shall have all 
 required for the ceremonial ." 
 
 " Heaven's blessings on you, my lord," said the abbot. 
 
 (i But first pledge me your sacred word," said the 
 earl, " by the holy office you once held, and by the 
 saints in whom you trust, that this concession shall not 
 be made the means of any attempt at flight. 5 ' 
 
 " I swear it," replied the abbot, earnestly. 
 
 " And I also swear it," added Father Eastgate. 
 
 " Enough," said the earl. " I will give the requisite 
 orders. Notice of the celebration of mass at midnight 
 shall be proclaimed without the abbey. Now remove 
 the prisoners." 
 
 Upon this, the captive ecclesiastics were led forth. 
 Father Eastgate was taken to a strong room in the lower 
 part of the chapter-house, where all acts of discipline 
 had been performed by the monks, and where the 
 knotted lash, the spiked girdle, and the hair shirt had 
 once hung; while the abbot was conveyed to his old 
 chamber, which had been prepared for his reception, 
 and there left alone. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 66 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT MASS. 
 
 Dolefully sounds the All Souls' bell from the tower 
 of the convent church. The bell is one of five, and has 
 obtained the name because it is tolled only for those about 
 to pass away from life. Now it rings the knell of three 
 souls to depart on the morrow. Brightly illumined is 
 the fane, within which no taper hath gleamed since the 
 old worship ceased, showing that preparations are made 
 for the last service. The organ, dumb so long, breathes a 
 low prelude. Sad is it to hear that knell — sad to view 
 those gloriously-dyed panes — and to think why the 
 one rings and the other is lighted up. 
 
 Word having gone forth of the midnight mass, all the 
 ejected brethren flock to the abbey. Some have toiled 
 through miry and scarce passable roads. Others have 
 come down from the hills, and forded deep streams at 
 the hazard of life, rather than go round by the far- 
 off bridge, and arrive too late. Others, who conceive 
 themselves in peril from the share they have taken in 
 the late insurrection, quit their secure retreats, and ex-
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 67 
 
 pose themselves to capture. It may be a snare laid for 
 them , but they run the risk. Others, coming from a 
 yet greater distance, beholding the illuminated church 
 from afar, and catching the sound of the bell tolling, at 
 intervals, hurry on, and reach the gate breathless and 
 well-nigh exhausted. But no questions are asked. All 
 who present themselves in ecclesiastical habits are per- 
 mitted to enter, and take part in the procession forming 
 in the cloister, or proceed at once to the church, if they 
 prefer it. 
 
 Dolefully sounds the bell. Barefooted brethren 
 meet together, sorrowfully salute each other, and form 
 in a long line in the great area of the cloisters. At 
 their head are six monks bearing tall lighted candles. 
 After them come the quiristers, and then one carrying 
 the Host, between the incense bearers. Next comes a 
 youth, holding the bell. Next are placed the digni- 
 taries of the church, the prior ranking first, and the 
 others standing two and two, according to their de- 
 grees. Near the entrance of the refectory, which 
 occupies the whole south side of the quadrangle, stand 
 a band of halberdiers, whose torches cast a ruddy glare 
 on the opposite tower and buttresses of the convent 
 church, revealing the statues not yet plucked from their 
 niches, the crosses on the pinnacles, and the gilt image 
 of Saint Gregory de Northbury , still holding its place over 
 the porch. Another band are stationed near the mouth of 
 the vaulted passage under the chapter-house and vestry, 
 whose gray, irregular walls, pierced by numberless 
 f2
 
 68 THE LANCASHIEE WITCHES. 
 
 richly ornamented windows, and surmounted by small 
 turrets, form a beautiful boundary on the right ; while 
 a third party are planted on the left, in the open space, 
 beneath the dormitory, the torchlight flashing ruddily 
 upon the hoary pillars and groined arches sustaining the 
 vast structure above them. 
 
 Dolefully sounds the bell. And the ghostly proces- 
 sion thrice tracks the four ambulatories of the cloisters, 
 solemnly chanting a requiem for the dead. 
 
 Dolefully sounds the bell. And at its summons all 
 the old retainers of the abbot press to the gate, and sue 
 for admittance, but in vain. They, therefore, mount 
 the neighbouring hill commanding the abbey, and as 
 the solemn sounds float faintly by, and glimpses are 
 caught of the white-robed brethren gliding along the 
 cloisters, and rendered phantom-like by the torchlight, 
 the beholders half imagine it must be a company of 
 sprites, and that the departed monks have been permitted 
 for an hour to assume their old forms, and revisit their 
 old haunts. 
 
 Dolefully sounds the bell. And two biers, covered 
 with palls, are borne slowly towards the church, fol- 
 lowed by a tall monk. 
 
 The clock was on the stroke of twelve. The proces- 
 sion having drawn up within the court in front of the 
 abbot's lodging, the prisoners were brought forth, and 
 at sight of the abbot the whole of the monks fell on 
 their knees. A touching sight was it to see those reve- 
 rend men prostrate before their ancient superior, — he con-
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 69 
 
 demned to die, and they deprived of their monastic home, 
 — and the officer had not the heart to interfere. Deeply 
 affected, Paslew advanced to the prior, and raising 
 him, affectionately embraced him. After this, he ad- 
 dressed some words of comfort to the others, who arose 
 as he enjoined them, and at a signal from the officer, 
 the procession set out for the church, singing the "Pla- 
 cebo." The abbot and his fellow captives brought up 
 the rear, with a guard on either side of them. All 
 Souls' bell tolled dolefully the while. 
 
 Meanwhile, an officer entered the great hall, where 
 the Earl of Derby was feasting with his retainers, and 
 informed him that the hour appointed for the ceremonial 
 was close at hand. The earl arose and went to the 
 church attended by Braddyll and Assheton. He en- 
 tered by the western porch, and proceeding to the choir, 
 seated himself in the magnificently-carved stall formerly 
 used by Paslew, and placed where it stood, a hundred 
 years before, by John Eccles, ninth abbot. 
 
 Midnight struck. The great door of the church 
 swung open, and the organ pealed forth the " De pro- 
 fu7icUs." The aisles were filled with armed men, but a 
 clear space was left for the procession, which presently en- 
 tered in the same order as before, and moved slowly along 
 the transept. Those who came first thought it a 
 dream, so strange was it to find themselves once again 
 in the old accustomed church. The good prior melted 
 into tears. 
 
 At length, the abbot came. To him the whole scene
 
 70 THE LANCASHIKE WITCHE S. 
 
 appeared like a vision. The lights streaming from the 
 altar — the incense loading the air — the deep diapasons 
 rolling overhead — the well-known faces of the brethren 
 — the familiar aspect of the sacred edifice — all these filled 
 him with emotions too painful almost for endurance. It 
 was the last time he should visit this holy place — the last 
 time he should hear those solemn sounds — the last time 
 he should behold those familiar objects — ay, the last! 
 Death could have no pang like this ! And with heart 
 well-nigh bursting, and limbs scarcely serving their 
 office, he tottered on. 
 
 Another trial awaited him, and one for which he was 
 wholly unprepared. As he drew near the chancel, he 
 looked down an opening on the right, which seemed 
 purposely preserved by the guard. Why were those tapers 
 burning in the side chapel ? What was within it? He 
 looked again, and beheld two uncovered biers. On one 
 lay the body of a woman. He started. In the beau- 
 tiful, but fierce, features of the dead he beheld the 
 witch, Bess Demdike. She was gone to her account 
 before him. The malediction he had pronounced upon 
 her child had killed her. 
 
 Appalled, he turned to the other bier, and recognised 
 Cuthbert Ashbead. He shuddered, but comforted him- 
 self that he was at least guiltless of his death; though 
 he had a strange feeling that the poor forester had in 
 some way perished for him. 
 
 But his attention was diverted towards a tall monk 
 in the Cistertian habit, standing between the bodies,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 71 
 
 with the cowl drawn over his face. As Paslew gazed at 
 him, the monk slowly raised his hood, and partially dis- 
 closed features that smote the abbot as if he had beheld a 
 spectre. Could it be ? Could fancy cheat him thus? He 
 looked again. The monk was still standing there, but the 
 cowl had dropped over his face. Striving to shake off 
 the horror that possessed him, the abbot staggered 
 forward, and reaching the presbytery, sank upon his 
 knees. 
 
 The ceremonial then commenced. The solemn re- 
 quiem was sung by the choir; and three yet living 
 heard the hymn for the repose of their souls. Always 
 deeply impressive, the service was unusually so on this 
 sad occasion, and the melodious voices of the singers 
 never sounded so mournfully sweet as then — the de- 
 meanour of the prior never seemed so dignified, nor his 
 accents so touching and solemn. The sternest hearts 
 were softened. 
 
 But the abbot found it impossible to fix his attention 
 on the service. The lights at the altar burnt dimly 
 in his eyes — the loud antiphon and the supplica- 
 tory prayer fell upon a listless ear. His whole life was 
 passing in review before him. He saw himself as he 
 was when he first professed Ins faith, and felt the zeal 
 and holy aspirations that filled him then. Years flew 
 by at a glance, and he found himself sub-deacon ; 
 the sub-deacon became deacon; and the deacon, sub- 
 prior, and the end of his ambition seemed plain before 
 liim. But he had a rival ; his fears told him a superior
 
 72 THE LANCASHIKE WITCHES. 
 
 in zeal and learning ; one who, though many years 
 younger than he, had risen so rapidly in favour with 
 the ecclesiastical authorities, that he threatened to out- 
 strip him, even now, when the goal was full in view. 
 The darkest passage of his life approached : a crime 
 which should cast a deep shadow over the whole of his 
 brilliant after-career. He would have shunned its con- 
 templation, if he could. In vain. It stood out more 
 palpably than all the rest. His rival was no longer 
 in his path. How he was removed the abbot did not 
 dare to think. But he was gone for ever, unless the 
 tall monk were he ! 
 
 Unable to endure this terrible retrospect, Paslew strove 
 to bend his thoughts on other things. The choir was 
 sinoins: the " Dies Irce" and their voices thundered 
 forth:— 
 
 Hex tremendce majestatis, 
 Qui salvandos salvas gratis, 
 Salva me fons pietatis ! 
 
 Fain would the abbot have closed his ears, and 
 hoping to stifle the remorseful pangs that seized upon 
 his very vitals with the sharpness of serpents' teeth, he 
 strove to dwell upon the frequent and severe acts of 
 penance he had performed. But he now found that 
 his penitence had never been sincere and efficacious. 
 This one damning sin obscured all his good actions ; 
 and he felt if he died unconfessed, and with the weight 
 of guilt upon his soul, he should perish everlastingly.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 73 
 
 Again he fled from the torment of retrospection, and 
 again heard the choir thundering forth — 
 
 Lacrymosa dies ilia, 
 Qua resurget ex favilla 
 Judicandus homo reus. 
 Huic ergo parce, Deus! 
 Pie Jesu Domine! 
 Dona eis requiem. 
 
 " Amen !" exclaimed the abbot. And bowing his 
 head to the ground, he earnestly repeated — 
 
 "Pie Jesu Domine! 
 Dona eis requiem." 
 
 Then he looked up, and resolved to ask for a con- 
 fessor, and unburthen his soul without delay. 
 
 The offertory and post-communion were over; the 
 " requiescant in pace" — awful words addressed to living- 
 ears — were pronounced ; and the mass was ended. 
 
 All prepared to depart. The prior descended from 
 the altar to embrace and take leave of the abbot; and, 
 at the same time, the Earl of Derby came from the 
 stall. 
 
 " Has all been done to your satisfaction, John Pas- 
 lew?" demanded the earl, as he drew near. 
 
 " All, my good lord," replied the abbot, lowly in- 
 clining his head ; " and I pray you think me not im- 
 portunate, if I prefer one other request. I would 
 fain have a confessor visit me, that I may lay bare my 
 inmost heart to him, and receive absolution." 
 
 " I have already anticipated the request," replied
 
 74 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 the earl, " and have provided a priest for you. He shall 
 attend you, within an hour, in your own chamber. 
 You will have ample time between this and daybreak, 
 to settle your accounts with Heaven, should they be 
 ever so weighty. 1 ' 
 
 " I trust so, my lord," replied Paslew; u but a whole 
 life is scarcely long enough for repentance, much less a 
 few short hours. But in regard to the confessor," he 
 continued, filled with misgiving by the earl's manner, 
 " I should be glad to be shriven by Father Christopher 
 Smith, late prior of the abbey." 
 
 " It may not be," replied the earl, sternly and de- 
 cidedly. " You will find all you can require in him I 
 shall send." 
 
 The abbot sighed, seeing that remonstrance was 
 useless. 
 
 " One further question I would address to you, my 
 lord," he said, " and that refers to the place of my in- 
 terment. Beneath our feet lie buried all my prede- 
 cessors — Abbots of Whalley. Here lies John Eccles, 
 for whom was carved the stall, in which your lordship 
 hath sat, and from which I have been dethroned. Here 
 rests the learned John Lyndelay, fifth abbot ; and 
 beside him his immediate predecessor, Robert de Top- 
 cliffe, who, two hundred and thirty years ago, on 
 the festival of Saint Gregory, our canonised abbot, 
 commenced the erection of the sacred edifice above us. 
 At that epoch were here enshrined the remains of the
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 75 
 
 saintly Gregory, and here were also brought the bodies 
 of Helias de Workesley and John de Belfield, both pre- 
 lates of piety and wisdom. You may read the names where 
 you stand, my lord. You may count the graves of all 
 the abbots. They are sixteen in number. There is one 
 grave yet unoccupied — one stone yet unfurnished with 
 an effigy in brass." 
 
 " Well?" said the Earl of Derby. 
 
 " When I sat in that stall, my lord," pursued Paslew, 
 pointing to the abbot's chair ; " when I was head of 
 this church, it was my thought to rest here among my 
 brother abbots." 
 
 " You have forfeited the right," replied the earl, 
 sternly. " All the abbots, whose dust is crumbling 
 beneath us, died in the odour of sanctity ; loyal to their 
 sovereigns, and true to their country ; whereas you 
 will die an attainted felon and rebel. You can have 
 no place amongst them. Concern not yourself further 
 in the matter. I will find a fitting grave for you, — 
 perchance at the foot of the gallows." 
 
 And turning abruptly away, he gave the signal for 
 general departure. 
 
 Ere the clock in the church tower had tolled one, 
 the lights were extinguished, and of the priestly train 
 who had recently thronged the fane, all were gone, like 
 a troop of ghosts evoked at midnight by necromantic 
 skill, and then suddenly dismissed. Deep silence again 
 brooded in the aisles ; hushed was the organ ; mute
 
 76 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 the melodious choir. The only light penetrating the 
 convent church proceeded from the moon, whose rays, 
 shining through the painted windows, fell upon the 
 graves of the old abbots in the presbytery, and on the 
 two biers within the adjoining chapel, whose stark 
 burthens they quickened into fearful semblance of life.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 77 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 TETER ET FORTIS CARCER. 
 
 Left alone, and unable to pray, the abbot strove to dis- 
 sipate his agitation of spirit by walking to and fro within 
 his chamber ; and while thus occupied, he was interrupted 
 by a guard, who told him that the priest sent by 
 the Earl of Derby was without, and immediately after- 
 wards the confessor was ushered in. It was the tall 
 monk, who had been standing between the biers, and 
 his features were still shrouded by his cowl. At sight of 
 him, Paslew sank upon a seat and buried his face in 
 his hands. The monk offered him no consolation, but 
 waited in silence till he should again look up. At last 
 Paslew took courage and spoke. 
 
 " Who, and what are you ?" he demanded. 
 
 " A brother of the same order as yourself, " replied 
 the monk, in deep and thrilling accents, but without 
 raising his hood ; "and I am come to hear your confes- 
 sion by command of the Earl of Derby." 
 
 ' ■ Are you of this abbey ?" asked Paslew, tremblingly.
 
 78 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " I was," replied the monk, in a stern tone; "but the 
 monastery is dissolved, and all the brethren ejected." 
 
 "Your name?" cried Paslew. 
 
 "I am not come here to answer questions, but to 
 hear a confession," rejoined the monk. " Bethink you 
 of the awful situation in which you are placed, and that 
 before many hours you must answer for the sins you 
 have committed. You have yet time for repentance, 
 if you delay it not." 
 
 " You are right, father," replied the abbot. " Be 
 seated, I pray you, and listen to me, for I have much to 
 tell. Thirty and one years ago I was prior of this 
 abbey. Up to that period my life had been blameless, 
 or if not wholly free from fault, I had little wherewith 
 to reproach myself — little to fear from a merciful judge 
 — unless it were that I indulged too strongly the desire of 
 ruling absolutely in the house in which I was then only 
 second. But Satan had laid a snare for me, into which 
 I blindly fell. Among the brethren was one named 
 Borlaoe Alvetham, a young man of rare attainment, 
 and singular skill in the occult sciences. He had risen 
 in favour, and at the time I speak of was elected 
 sub-prior." 
 
 " Go on," said the monk. 
 
 " It began to be whispered about within the abbey/' 
 pursued Paslew, " that on the death of William Rede, 
 then abbot, Borlace Alvetham, would succeed him, 
 and then it was that bitter feelings of animosity were
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 79 
 
 awakened in my breast against the sub-prior, and after 
 many struggles, I resolved upon his destruction." 
 
 "A wicked resolution," cried the monk ;" but pro- 
 ceed." 
 
 " I pondered over the means of accomplishing my 
 purpose," resumed Paslew, " and at last decided upon 
 accusing Alvetham of sorcery and magical practices. 
 The accusation was easy, for the occult studies in which 
 he indulged laid him open to the charge. He occupied a 
 chamber overlooking the Calder, and used to break the 
 monastic rules by wandering forth at night upon the hills. 
 When he was absent thus one night, accompanied by 
 others of the brethren, I visited his chamber, and exa- 
 mined his papers, some of which were covered with 
 mystical figures and cabalistic characters. These papers I 
 seized, and a watch was set to make prisoner of Alvetham 
 on his return. Before dawn he appeared, and was in- 
 stantly secured, and placed in close confinement. On the 
 next day he was brought before the assembled conclave in 
 the chapter-house, and examined. His defence was un- 
 availing. I charged him with the terrible crime of 
 witchcraft, and he was found guilty." 
 
 A hollow groan broke from the monk, but he 
 offered no other interruption. 
 
 " He was condemned to die a fearful and lingering 
 death," pursued the abbot; "and it devolved upon 
 me to see the sentence carried out." 
 
 " And no pity for the innocent moved you?" cried 
 the monk. " You had no compunction ?"
 
 80 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 "None," replied the abbot. " I rather rejoiced in 
 the successful accomplishment of my scheme. The 
 prey was fairly in my toils, and I would give him no 
 chance of escape. Not to bring scandal upon the ab- 
 bey, it was decided that Alvetham's punishment should 
 be secret." 
 
 " A wise resolve," observed the monk. 
 
 (i Within the thickness of the dormitory walls is con- 
 trived a small, singularly- formed dungeon," continued 
 the abbot. K It consists of an arched cell, just large 
 enough to hold the body of a captive, and permit him 
 to stretch himself upon a straw pallet. A narrow stair- 
 case mounts upwards to a grated aperture in one of the 
 buttresses to admit air and light. Other opening is there 
 none. ' Teter etfortis career,' is this dungeon styled, in 
 our monastic rolls, and it is well described, for it is 
 black and strong enough. Food is admitted to the 
 miserable inmate of the cell by means of a revolving 
 stone, but no interchange of speech can be held with 
 those without. A large stone is removed from the 
 wall to admit the prisoner, and once immured, the 
 masonry is mortised, and made solid as before. The 
 wretched captive does not long survive his doom, or it 
 may be he lives too long, for death must be a release 
 from such protracted misery. In this dark cell one of 
 the evil-minded brethren, who essayed to stab the Abbot 
 of Kirkstall in the chapter-house, was thrust, and ere a 
 year was over, the provisions were untouched — and 
 the man being known to be dead, they were
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 81 
 
 stayed. His skeleton was found within the cell when 
 it was opened to admit Borlace Alvetham." 
 
 "Poor captive!" groaned the monk. 
 
 " Ay, poor captive !" echoed Paslew. " Mine eyes 
 have often striven to pierce those stone walls, and see 
 him lying there in that narrow chamber, or forcing 
 his way upwards, to catch a glimpse of the blue sky 
 above him. When I have seen the swallows settle on 
 the old buttress, or the thin grass growing between the 
 stones waving there, I have thought of him." 
 
 " Go on," said the monk. 
 
 " I scarce can proceed," rejoined Paslew. " Little 
 time was allowed Alvetham for preparation. That very 
 night the fearful sentence was carried out. The stone 
 was removed, and a new pallet placed in the cell. At 
 midnight the prisoner was brought to the dormitory, 
 the brethren chanting a doleful hymn. There he stood 
 amidst them, his tall form towering above the rest, 
 and his features pale as death. He protested his in- 
 nocence, but he exhibited no fear, even when he saw 
 the terrible preparations. When all was ready he was 
 led to the breach. At that awful moment, his eye met 
 mine, and I shall never forget the look. I might have 
 saved him if I had spoken, but I would not speak. 
 I turned away, and he was thrust into the breach. A 
 fearful cry then rang in my ears, but it was instantly 
 drowned by the mallets of the masons employed to 
 fasten up the stone." 
 
 There was a pause for a few moments, broken only 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 by the sobs of the abbot. At length, the monk 
 spoke. 
 
 " And the prisoner perished in the cell ?" he de- 
 manded, in a hollow voice. 
 
 " I thought so till to-night," replied the abbot. " But 
 if he escaped it, it must have been by miracle ; or by 
 aid of those powers with whom he was charged with 
 holding commerce." 
 
 " He did escape !" thundered the monk, throwing 
 back his hood. " Look up, John Paslew. Look up, 
 false abbot, and recognise thy victim.'" 
 
 " Borlace Alvetham !" cried the abbot. " Is it, 
 indeed, you?" 
 
 "You see, and can you doubt?" replied the other. 
 " But you shall now hear how I avoided the terrible 
 death to which you procured my condemnation. You 
 shall now learn how I am here to repay the wrong 
 you did me. We have changed places, John Paslew, 
 since the night when I was thrust into the cell, never, 
 as you hoped, to come forth. You are now the criminal, 
 and I the witness of the punishment." 
 
 "Forgive me! oh, forgive me! Borlace Alvetham, 
 since you are, indeed, he !" cried the abbot, falling on 
 his knees. 
 
 "Arise, John Paslew!" cried the other, sternly. 
 " Arise, and listen to me. For the damning offences 
 into which I have been led, I hold you responsible. 
 But for you I might have died free from sin. It is 
 fit you should know the amount of my iniquity. Give 
 ear to me, I say. When first shut within that dungeon,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 83 
 
 I yielded to the promptings of despair. Cursing you, 
 I threw myself upon the pallet, resolved to taste no 
 food, and hoping death would soon release me. But 
 love of life prevailed. On the second day I took the 
 "bread and water allotted me, and ate and drank ; after 
 which I scaled the narrow staircase, and gazed through 
 the thin barred loophole at the bright blue sky above, 
 sometimes catching the shadow of a bird as it flew 
 past. Oh ! how I yearned for freedom then ! Oh, how 
 I wished to break through the stone walls that held me 
 fast ! Oh what a weight of despair crushed my heart 
 as I crept back to my narrow bed. The cell seemed like 
 a grave, and indeed it was little better. Horrible 
 thoughts possessed me. What if I should be wilfully 
 forgotten? What if no food should be given me, 
 and I should be left to perish by the slow pangs 
 of hunger? At this idea I shrieked aloud, but the 
 walls alone returned a dull echo to my cries. I beat 
 my hands against the stones, till the blood flowed from 
 them, but no answer was returned; and at last I de- 
 sisted from sheer exhaustion. Day after day, and 
 night after night, passed in this way. My food regu- 
 larly came. But I became maddened by solitude ; 
 and with terrible imprecations invoked aid from the 
 powers of darkness to set me free. One night, while 
 thus employed, I was startled by a mocking voice, 
 which said, 
 
 " 'AH this fury is needless. Thou hast only to wish 
 for me, and I come.' 
 
 G 2
 
 84 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " It was profoundly dark. I could see nothing but 
 a pair of red orbs, glowing like flaming carbuncles. 
 
 " e Thou wouldst be free/ continued the voice. 
 4 Thou shalt be so. Arise, and follow me.' 
 
 " At this, I felt myself grasped by an iron arm, 
 against which all resistance would have been un- 
 availing, even if I had dared to offer it, and in an in- 
 stant I was dragged up the narrow steps. The stone 
 wall opened before my unseen conductor, and in 
 another moment we were upon the roof of the dormi- 
 tory. By the bright starbeams shooting clown from 
 above, I discerned a tall shadowy figure standing by 
 my side. 
 
 " ' Thou art mine,' he cried, in accents graven for 
 ever on my memory ; ' but I am a generous master, 
 and will give thee a long term of freedom. Thou shalt 
 be avenged upon thine enemy — deeply avenged.' 
 
 " ' Grant this, and I am thine,' I replied, a spirit of 
 infernal vengeance possessing me. And I knelt before 
 the fiend. 
 
 " ' But thou must tarry for awhile, 5 he answered, ' for 
 thine enemy's time will be long in coming ; but it will 
 come. I cannot work him immediate harm ; but I will 
 lead him to a height from which he will assuredly fall 
 headlong. Thou must depart from this place ; for it is 
 perilous to thee, and if thou stayest here, ill will befal 
 thee. I will send a rat to thy dungeon, which shall 
 daily devour the provisions, so that the monks shall not 
 know thou hast fled. In thirty and one years shall the
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 85 
 
 abbot's doom be accomplished. Two years before that 
 time thou mayst return. Then come alone to Pendle 
 Hill on a Friday night, and beat the water of the moss 
 pool on the summit, and I will appear to thee and tell 
 thee more. Nine and twenty years, remember !' 
 
 11 With these words the shadowy figure melted away, 
 and I found myself standing alone on the mossy roof 
 of the dormitory. The cold stars were shining down 
 upon me, and I heard the howl of the watch-dogs near 
 the gate. The fair abbey slept in beauty around me, 
 and I gnashed my teeth with rage to think that you 
 had made me an outcast from it, and robbed me of a 
 dignity which might have been mine. I was wroth 
 also that my vengeance should be so long delayed. 
 But I could not remain where I was, so I clambered 
 down the buttress, and tied away." 
 
 " Can this be?" cried the abbot, who had listened in 
 rapt wonderment to the narration. " Two years after 
 your immurement in the cell the food having been for 
 some time untouched, the wall was opened, and upon 
 the pallet was found a decayed carcase in mouldering, 
 monkish vestments." 
 
 " It was a body taken from the charnel, and placed 
 there by the demon," replied the monk. " Of my long 
 wanderings in other lands and beneath brighter skies 
 I need not tell you, but neither absence nor lapse of 
 years cooled my desire of vengeance, and when the 
 appointed time drew nigh I returned to my own
 
 86 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 country, and came hither in a lowly garb, under the 
 name of Nicholas Demdike." 
 
 " Ha I" exclaimed the abbot. 
 
 " I went to Pendle Hill, as directed," pursued the 
 monk, " and saw the Dark Shape there as I beheld it on 
 the dormitory roof. All things were then told me, and 
 I learnt how the late rebellion should rise, and how it 
 should be crushed. I learnt also how my vengeance 
 should be satisfied." 
 
 Paslew groaned aloud. A brief pause ensued, and 
 deep emotion marked the accents of the wizard as he 
 proceeded. 
 
 " When I came back, all this part of Lancashire 
 resounded with praises of the beauty of Bess Blackburn, 
 a rustic lass who dwelt in Barrowford. She was called 
 the Flower of Pendle, and inflamed all the youths 
 with love, and all the maidens with jealousy. But 
 she favoured none, except Cuthbert Ashbead, forester 
 to the Abbot of Whalley. Her mother would fain 
 have given her to the forester in marriage, but Bess 
 would not be disposed of so easily. I saw her, and 
 became at once enamoured. I thought my heart was 
 seared ; but it was not so. The savage beauty of Bess 
 pleased me more than the most refined charms could 
 have done, and her fierce character harmonised with 
 my own. How I won her matters not, but she cast 
 off all thoughts of Ashbead, and clung to me. My 
 wild life suited her ; and she roamed the wastes with
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 87 
 
 me, scaled the hills in my company, and shrank 
 not from the weird meetings I attended. Ill repute 
 quickly attended her, and she became branded as a 
 witch. Her aged mother closed her doors upon her, and 
 those who would have gone miles to meet her, now 
 avoided her. Bess heeded this little. She was of a 
 nature to repay the world's contumely with like scorn, 
 but when her child was born the case became different. 
 She wished to save it. Then it was,*' pursued Demdike, 
 vehemently, and regarding the abbot with flashing eyes 
 — ff then it was that I was again mortally injured by 
 you. Then your ruthless decree to the clergy went 
 forth. My child was denied baptism, and became 
 subject to the fiend." 
 
 tl Alas ! alas I" exclaimed Paslew. 
 " And as if this were not injury enough," thundered 
 Demdike, " you have called down a withering and 
 lasting curse upon its innocent head, and through it 
 transfixed its mother's heart. If you had complied 
 with that poor girl's request, I would have forgiven 
 you your wrong to me, and have saved you." 
 
 There was a long, fearful silence. At last Demdike 
 advanced to the abbot, and seizing his arm, fixed his 
 eyes upon him, as if to search into his soul. 
 
 " Answer me, John Paslew!" he cried; "answer 
 me, as you shall speedily answer your Maker. Can 
 that malediction be recalled ? Dare not to trifle with 
 me, or I will tear forth your black heart, and cast it in 
 your face. Can that curse be recalled ? Speak !"
 
 88 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " It cannot," replied the abbot, half dead with 
 terror. 
 
 " Away then !" thundered Demdike, casting him 
 from him. " To the gallows ! — to the gallows !" And 
 he rushed out of the room.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE ABBEY MILL. 
 
 For a while the abbot remained shattered and stupified 
 by this terrible interview. At length, he arose, and 
 made his way, he scarce knew how, to the oratory. 
 But it was long before the tumult of his thoughts 
 could be at all allayed, and he had only just regained 
 something like composure when he was disturbed by 
 hearing a slight sound in the adjoining chamber. 
 A mortal chill came over him, for he thought it might 
 be Demdike returned. Presently, he distinguished a 
 footstep stealthily approaching him, and almost hoped that 
 the wizard would consummate his vengeance by taking 
 his life. But he was quickly undeceived, for a hand 
 was placed on his shoulder, and a friendly voice whis- 
 pered in his ears, "Cum along wi' meh, lort abbut. 
 Get up, quick — quick !" 
 
 Thus addressed, the abbot raised his eyes, and be- 
 held a rustic figure standing beside him, divested of his 
 clouted shoes, and armed with a long bare wood-knife. 
 
 " Dunna yo knoa me, lort abbut-?" cried the person.
 
 90 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 "Ey'm a freent — Hal o' Nabs, o' Wiswall. Yo'n moind 
 Wiswall, yeawr own birtli-place, abbut ? Dunna be 
 feert ey sey. Ey'n getten a steeigh clapt to yon windaw, 
 an' you con be down it i' a trice — an* along t' covert 
 way be t' river soide to t' mill." 
 
 But tlie abbot stirred not. 
 
 " Quick ! quick !" implored Hal o' Nabs, venturing to 
 pluck the abbot's sleeve. a Every minute's precious. 
 Dunna be feert. Ebil Croft, t' miller is below. Poor 
 Cuthbert Ashbead would ha' been here i'stead o' meh 
 if he couldn; boh that accursed wizard, Nick Demdike, 
 turned my hont agen Mm, and drove t' poike head in- 
 tended for himself into poor Cuthbert's side. They clapt 
 meh i' a dungeon, boh Ebil monaged to get me out, aiv 
 ey then swore to do whot poor Cuthbert would ha' done, 
 if he'd been livin' — so here ey am, lort abbut, cum to 
 set yo free. An neaw yo knoan aw abowt it, yo con ha 
 nah more hesitation. Cum, time presses, an ey'm feert 
 o' t' guard owerhearing us." 
 
 "I thank you, my good friend, from the bottom of 
 my heart," replied the abbot, rising; "but, however 
 strong may be the temptation of life and liberty which 
 you hold out to me, I cannot yield to it. I have pledged 
 my word to the Earl of Derby to make no attempt to 
 escape. Were the doors thrown open, and the guard 
 removed, I should remain where I am." 
 
 " Whot !" exclaimed Hal o' Nabs, in a tone of bitter 
 disappointment; " yo winnaw go, neaw aw's prepared. 
 By tli' Mess, boh yo shan. Ey'st nah go back to Ebil
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 91 
 
 empty-handed. If yo'n sworn to stay here, cy'n sworn 
 to set yo free, and ey'st keep meh oath. Willy nilly, 
 yo shan go wi' meh, lort abbot !" 
 
 " Forbear to urge me further, my good Hal," re- 
 joined Paslew. " I fully appreciate your devotion ; 
 and I only regret that you and Abel Croft have ex- 
 posed yourselves to so much peril on my account. Poor 
 Cuthbert Ashbead! when I beheld his body on the 
 bier, I had a sad feeling that he had died in my be- 
 half." 
 
 M Cuthbert meant to rescue yo, lort abbut," replied 
 Hal, "and deed resisting Nick Demdike's attempt to 
 arrest him. Boh, be aw t' devils !" he added, bran- 
 dishing his knife fiercely, " t' warlock shall ha* three 
 inches o' cowd steel betwixt his ribs, t' furst time ey 
 cum across him." 
 
 " Peace, my son," rejoined the abbot, " and forego 
 your bloody design. Leave the wretched man to the 
 chastisement of Heaven. And now, farewell ! All 
 your kindly efforts to induce me to fly are vain." 
 
 " Yo winnaw go ?" cried Hal o' Nabs, scratching his 
 head. 
 
 " I cannot," replied the abbot. 
 
 " Cum wi' meh to t' windaw, then," pursued Hal, 
 " and tell Ebil so. He'll think ey'n failed else." 
 
 " Willingly," replied the abbot. 
 
 And with noiseless footsteps he followed the other 
 across the chamber. The window was open, and 
 outside it was reared a ladder.
 
 92 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Yo mun go down a few steps," said Hal o' Nabs, 
 " or else he'll nah hear yo." 
 
 The abbot complied, and partly descended the 
 ladder. 
 
 " I see no one," he said. 
 
 " T neet's dark," replied Hal o' Nabs, who was close 
 behind him. " Ebil canna be far off. Hist ! ey hear 
 him — go on." 
 
 The abbot was now obliged to comply, though he 
 did so with reluctance. Presently he found himself 
 upon the roof of a building, which he knew to be con- 
 nected with the mill by a covered passage running along 
 the south bank of the Calder. Scarcely had he set 
 foot there, than Hal o' Nabs jumped after him, and, 
 seizing the ladder, cast it into the stream, thus render- 
 ing Paslew's return impossible. 
 
 " Neaw, lort abbut," he cried, with a low, exulting 
 laugh, " yo lianna brok 'n yor word, an ey'n kept 
 moine. Yo're free agen your will." 
 
 "You have destroyed me by your mistaken zeal," 
 cried the abbot, reproachfully. 
 
 " Nowt o't sort," replied Hal; " ey'n saved yo' fro' 
 destruction. This way, lort abbut — this way." 
 
 And taking Paslew's arm he led him to a low para- 
 pet, overlooking the covered passage before described. 
 Half an hour before it had been bright moonlight, 
 but, as if to favour the fugitive, the heavens had be- 
 come overcast, and a thick mist had arisen from the 
 river.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 93 
 
 " Ebil ! Ebil !" cried Hal o' Nabs, leaning over the 
 parapet. 
 
 " Here," replied a voice below. " Is aw reet ? Is he 
 wi'yo?" 
 
 " Yeigh," replied Hal. 
 
 " Whot han yo dun wi' t' steigh?" cried Ebil. 
 
 " Never yo moind," returned Hal, a boh help t' 
 abbut down." 
 
 Paslew thought it vain to resist further, and with 
 the help of Hal o' Nabs and the miller, and further 
 aided by some irregularities in the wall, he was soon 
 safely landed near the entrance of the passage. Abel 
 fell on his knees, and pressed the abbot's hand to his 
 lips. 
 
 " Owr Blessed Leady be praised, yo are free," he 
 cried. 
 
 " Dunna stond tawking here, Ebil," interposed Hal 
 o' Nabs, who by this time had reached the ground, and 
 who was fearful of some new remonstrance on the 
 abbot's part. " Ey'm feerd o' pursuit." 
 
 " Yo' needna be afeerd o' that, Hal," replied the 
 miller. " T' guard are safe enough. One o' owr chaps 
 has just tuk em up a big black jack fu' o' stout ele; an 
 ey warrant me they winnaw stir yet awhoilc. Win it 
 please yo to cum wi' me, lort abbut ?" 
 
 With this, he marched along the passage, followed 
 by the others, and presently arrived at a door, against 
 which he tapped. A bolt being withdrawn, it was 
 instantly opened to admit the party, after which it was
 
 94 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 as quickly shut, and secured. In answer to a call from 
 the miller, a light appeared at the top of a steep, ladder- 
 like flight of wooden steps, and up these Paslew, at the 
 entreaty of Abel, mounted, and found himself in a 
 large, low chamber, the roof of which was crossed by 
 great beams, covered thickly with cobwebs, whitened 
 by flour, while the floor was strewn with empty sacks 
 and sieves. 
 
 The person who held the light proved to be the 
 miller's daughter, Dorothy, a blooming lass of eighteen, 
 and at the other end of the chamber, seated on a bench 
 before a turf fire, with an infant on her knees, was the 
 miller's wife. The latter instantly arose on beholding the 
 abbot, and placing the child on a corn bin, advanced 
 towards him, and dropped on her knees, while her 
 daughter imitated her example. The abbot extended 
 his hands over them and pronounced a solemn benedic- 
 tion. 
 
 " Bring your child, also, to me, that I may bless it," 
 he said, when he concluded. 
 
 " It's nali my child, lort abbut," replied the miller's 
 wife, taking up the infant and bringing it to him; 
 " it wur brought to me this varry neet by Ebil. Ey 
 wish it wur far enough, ey'm sure, for it's a deformed 
 little urchon. One o' it seen is lower set than t' other; 
 an t' reet looks up, while t' laft looks down." 
 
 And as she spoke she pointed to the infant's face, 
 which was disfigured as she had stated, by a strange 
 and unnatural disposition of the eyes, one of which
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 95 
 
 was set much lower in the head than the other. 
 Awakened from sleep, the child uttered a feeble cry, 
 and stretched out its tiny arms to Dorothy. 
 
 ie You ought to pity it for its deformity, poor little 
 creature, rather than reproach it, mother, 5 ' observed 
 the young damsel. 
 
 11 Marry kem eawt !" cried her mother, sharply, "yo'n 
 getten fine feelings wi' your laming fro t' good feythers, 
 Dolly. Os ey said efore, ey wish t' brat wur far enough." 
 
 " You forget it has no mother," suggested Doro- 
 thy, kindly. 
 
 " An naw great matter, if it hasn't," returned the 
 miller's wife. " Bess Demdike 's neaw great loss." 
 
 " Is this Eess Demdike's child ?" cried Paslew, re- 
 coiling. 
 
 " Yeigh," exclaimed the miller's wife. And mistaking 
 the cause of Paslew's emotion, she added, triumphantly, 
 to her daughter, " Ey towd te, wench, ot t 5 lort abbut 
 would be of my way o' thinking. T' chilt has got the 
 witch's mark plain upon her. Look, lort abbut, 
 look !" 
 
 But Paslew heeded her not, but murmured to him- 
 self :— 
 
 " Ever in my path, go where I will. It is vain to 
 struggle with my fate. I will go back and surrender 
 myself to the Earl of Derby." 
 
 " Nah, — nah ! — yo shanna do that," replied Hal o' 
 Nabs, who, with the miller, was close beside him. i( Sit 
 down o' that stoo' be t' fire, and tak a cup o' wine t' cheer
 
 96 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 yo, and then wen set out to Pendle Forest, where 
 ey'st find yo a safe hiding-place. An t' ony reward 
 ey'n ever ask for t' sarvice shan be, that yo'n perform 
 a marriage sarvice fo' me and Dolly one of these days." 
 And he nudged the damsel's elbow, who turned away, 
 covered with blushes. 
 
 The abbot moved mechanically to the fire, and sat 
 down, while the miller's wife, surrendering the child 
 with a shrug of the shoulders and a grimace to her 
 daughter, went in search of some viands and a flask of 
 wine, which she set before Paslew. The miller then 
 filled a drinking-horn, and presented it to his guest, 
 was about to raise it to his lips, when a loud knocking 
 was heard at the door below. 
 
 The knocking continued with increased violence, 
 and voices were heard calling upon the miller to open 
 the door, or it would be broken down. On the first 
 alarm Abel had flown to a small window whence he 
 could reconnoitre those below, and he now returned 
 with a face white with terror, to say that a party of 
 arquebussiers, with the sheriff at their head, were with- 
 out, and that some of the men were provided with 
 torches. 
 
 " They have discovered my evasion, and are come 
 in search of me," observed the abbot, rising, but with- 
 out betraying any anxiety. " Do not concern your- 
 selves further for me, my good friends, but open the 
 door, and deliver me to them." 
 
 " Nali, nah, that we winnaw," cried Hal o' Nabs,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 97 
 
 " yo're neaw taen yet, fcayther abbut, an 1 ey foioa a way 
 to baffle 'em. If yo'n let him down into t 5 river, Ebil, 
 ey'n manage to get him off." 
 
 " Weel thowt on, Nab," cried the miller, " theawst 
 nah been mey mon seven year fo nowt. Thcaw knoas 
 t' ways o' t' pleck." 
 
 " Os weel os onny rotten abowt it," replied Hal o' 
 Nabs. " Go down to t' grindin'-room, an ey'n follow 
 i' a troice." 
 
 And as Abel snatched up the light, and hastily de- 
 scended the steps with Paslew, Hal whispered in Doro- 
 thy's ears, — 
 
 " Tak care neaw one fonds that chilt, Dolly, if they 
 break in. Hide it safely; an whon they're gone, tak it 
 to't church, and place it near t' altar, where no ill con 
 cum to it or thee. Mey life may hong upon it." 
 
 And as the poor girl, who, as well as her mother, was 
 almost frightened out of her wits, promised compliance, 
 he hurried down the steps after the others, muttering, 
 as the clamour without was redoubled, 
 
 " Eigh, roar on till yo're hoarse. Yo winnaw get in 
 yet awhile, ey'n promise ye." 
 
 Meantime, the abbot had been led to the chief room 
 of the mill, where all the corn formerly consumed within 
 the monastery had been prepared, and which the size of 
 the chamber itself, together with the vastness of the 
 stones used in the operation of grinding, and connected 
 with the huge water-wheel outside, proved to be by no 
 means inconsiderable. Strong shafts of timber sup- 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 £8 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 ported tlie flooring above, and were crossed by other 
 boards placed horizontally, from which various imple- 
 ments in use at the mill depended, giving the cham- 
 ber, imperfectly lighted as it now was by the lamp borne 
 by Abel, a strange and alrnostmysterious appearance. 
 Three or four of the miller's men, armed with pikes, 
 had followed their master, and, though much alarmed, 
 they vowed to die rather than give up the abbot. 
 
 By this time Hal o' Nabs had joined the group, and 
 proceeding towards a raised part of the chamber where 
 the grinding-stones were set, he knelt down, and laying 
 hold of a small ring, raised up a trap-door. The fresh 
 air which blew up through the aperture, combined with 
 the rushing sound of water, showed that the Calder 
 flowed immediately beneath ; and having made some 
 slight preparation, Hal let himself down into the stream. 
 
 At this moment a loud crash was heard, and one of 
 the miller's men cried out that the arquebussiers had 
 burst open the door. 
 
 " Be hondy, then, lads, and let him down!" cried 
 Hal o' Nabs, who had some difficulty in maintaining his 
 footing on the rough, stony bottom of the swift stream. 
 
 Passively yielding, the abbot suffered the miller and 
 one of the stoutest of his men to assist him through the 
 trap-door, while a third held down the lamp, and 
 showed Hal o' Nabs up to his middle in the darkling 
 current, and stretching out his arms to receive the 
 burden. The light fell upon the huge black circle of 
 the water-wheel now stopped, and upon the dripping
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 99 
 
 arches supporting the mill. In another moment the 
 abbot plunged into the water, the trap-door was replaced, 
 and bolted underneath by Hal, who, while guiding 
 his companion along, and bidding him catch hold of the 
 woodwork of the wheel, heard a heavy trampling of 
 many feet on the boards above, showing that the pur- 
 suers had obtained admittance. 
 
 Encumbered by his heavy vestments, the abbot 
 could with difficulty contend against the strong cur- 
 rent, and he momently expected to be swept away; 
 but he had a stout and active assistant by his side, 
 who soon placed him under shelter of the wheel. 
 The trampling overhead continued for a few minutes, 
 after which all was quiet, and Hal judged that, finding 
 their search within ineffectual, the enemy would speedily 
 come forth. Nor was he deceived. Shouts were soon 
 heard at the door of the mill, and the glare of torches 
 was cast on the stream. Then it was that Hal dragged 
 his companion into a deep hole, formed by some decay in 
 the masonry, behind the wheel, where the water rose 
 nearly to their chins, and where they were completely 
 concealed. Scarcely were they thus ensconced, than 
 two or three armed men, holding torches aloft, were 
 seen wading under the archway ; but after looking 
 carefully around, and even approaching close to the 
 water-wheel, these persons could detect nothing, and 
 withdrew, muttering curses of rage and disappointment. 
 By-and-by the lights almost wholly disappeared, and 
 the shouts becoming fainter and more distant, it was 
 H 2
 
 100 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 evident that the men had gone lower down the 
 river. Upon this, Hal thought they might venture 
 to quit their retreat, and accordingly, grasping the 
 abbot's arm, he proceeded to wade up the stream. 
 
 Benumbed with cold, and half dead with terror, 
 Paslew needed all his companion's support, for he could 
 do little to help himself, added to which, they occasion- 
 ally encountered some large stone, or stepped into 
 a deep hole, so that it required Hal's utmost exertion 
 and strength to force a way on. At last they were 
 out of the arch, and though both banks seemed un- 
 guarded, yet, for fear of surprise, Hal deemed it prudent 
 still to keep to the river. Their course was completely 
 sheltered from observation by the mist that enveloped 
 them ; and after proceeding in this way for some dis- 
 tance, Hal stopped to listen, and while debating with 
 himself whether he should now quit the river, he fancied 
 he beheld a black object swimming towards him. 
 Taking it for an otter, with which voracious animal 
 the Calder, a stream swarming with trout, — abounded, 
 and knowing the creature would not meddle with them, 
 unless first attacked, he paid little attention to it; but he 
 was soon made sensible of his error. His arm was sud- 
 denly seized by a large black hound, whose sharp fangs 
 met in his flesh. Unable to repress a cry of pain, Hal 
 strove to disengage himself from his assailant, and finding 
 it impossible, flung himself into the water, in the hope of 
 drowning him, but as the hound still maintained his 
 hold, he searched for his knife to slay him. But he
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 101 
 
 could not find it, and in his distress applied to 
 Paslew. 
 
 " Ha yo onny weepun abowt yo, lort abbut," he 
 cried, " wi' which ey con free mysel fro' this accussed 
 hound ?" 
 
 "Alas! no, my son," replied Paslew, "and I fear 
 no weapon will prevail against it, for I recognise in the 
 animal the hound of the wizard, Demdike." 
 
 11 Ey thowt t' Dule wur in it," rejoined Hal; " boh 
 leave me to fight it owt, an do yo gain t' bonk, an mey 
 t' best o' your way to t' Wis wall. Ey'n join ye os soon 
 os ey con scrush this varment's heaod agen a stoan. 
 Ha!" he added, joyfully, " Ey'n found t' thwittle. Go 
 — go. Ey'n soon be efter ye." 
 
 Feeling he should sink if he remained where he was, 
 and wholly unable to offer any effectual assistance to his 
 companion, the abbot turned to the left, where a large 
 oak overhung the stream, and he was climbing the bank, 
 aided by the roots of the tree, when a man suddenly 
 came from behind it, seized his hand, and dragged him 
 up forcibly. At the same moment his captor placed a 
 bugle to his lips, and winding a few notes, he was 
 instantly answered by shouts, and soon afterwards 
 half-a-dozen armed men ran up, bearing torches. Not 
 a word passed between the fugitive and his captor, 
 but when the men came up, and the torchlight fell 
 upon the features of the latter, the abbot's worst fears 
 were realised. It was Demdike. 
 
 " False to your king ! — false to your oath ! — false to
 
 102 THE LANCASHIKE WITCHES. 
 
 all men!" cried the wizard. "You seek to escape in 
 vain!" 
 
 "I merit all your reproaches," replied the abbot; 
 " but it may be some satisfaction to you to learn that I 
 have endured far greater suffering than if I had 
 patiently awaited my doom." 
 
 " I am glad of it/ 7 rejoined Demdike, with a savage 
 laugh; " but you have destroyed others beside yourself. 
 Where is the fellow in the water ? What, ho, Uriel !' 
 
 But as no sound reached him, he snatched a torch 
 from one of the arquebussiers and held it to the river's 
 brink. But he could see neither hound nor man. 
 
 "Strange!" he cried. "He cannot have escaped. 
 Uriel is more than a match for any man. Secure the 
 prisoner while I examine the stream." 
 
 With this, he ran along the bank with great quick- 
 ness, holding his torch far over the water, so as to reveal 
 any thing floating within it, but nothing met his view 
 until he came within a short distance of the mill, when 
 he beheld a black object struggling in the current, and 
 soon found that it was his dog making feeble efforts to 
 gain the bank. 
 
 "Ah recreant! thou hast let him go," cried Dem- 
 dike, furiously. 
 
 Seeing his master the animal redoubled its efforts? 
 crept ashore, and fell at his feet, with a last effort to lick 
 his hands. 
 
 Demdike held down the torch, and then perceived that 
 the hound was quite dead. There was a deep gash in
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCnES. 103 
 
 its side, and another in the throat, showing how it had 
 perished. 
 
 * Poor Uriel !" he exclaimed; " the only true friend 
 I had. And thou art gone ! The villain has killed 
 thee, but he shall pay for it with his life." 
 
 And hurrying back he despatched four of the men 
 in quest of the fugitive, while accompanied by the two 
 others he conveyed Paslew back to the abbey, where 
 he was placed in a strong cell, from which there was no 
 possibility of escape, and a guard set over him. 
 
 Half an hour after this, two of the arquebussiers re- 
 turned with Hal o' Nabs, whom they had succeeded in 
 capturing after a desperate resistance, about a mile from 
 the abbey, on the road to "Wiswall. He was taken to 
 the guard-room, which had been appointed in one of 
 the lower chambers of the chapter-house, and Demdike 
 was immediately apprised of his arrival. Satisfied by 
 an inspection of the prisoner, whose demeanour was 
 sullen and resolved, Demdike proceeded to the great 
 hall, where the Earl of Derby, who had returned 
 thither after the midnight mass, was still sitting with his 
 retainers. An audience was readily obtained by the 
 wizard, and apparently well pleased with the result, he 
 returned to the guard-room. The prisoner was seated 
 by himself in one corner of the chamber with his hands 
 tied behind his back with a leathern thong, and Dem- 
 dike approaching him told him that for having aided 
 the escape of a condemned rebel and traitor, and 
 violently assaulting the king's lieges in the execution
 
 104 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 of their duty, he would be hanged on the morrow, 
 the Earl of Derby, who had power of life or death in 
 such cases, having so decreed it. And he exhibited the 
 warrant. 
 
 " Soh, yo mean to hong me, eh, wizard ?" cried Hal 
 o' Nabs, kicking his heels with great apparent indiffer- 
 ence. 
 
 " I do," replied Demdike; "if for nothing else, for 
 slaying my hound." 
 
 " Ey dunna think it," replied Hal. « Yo'n alter 
 your moind. Do, mon. Ey'm nah prepared to dee 
 just yet." 
 
 " Then perish in your sins," cried Demdike, " I will 
 not give you an hour's respite." 
 
 " Yo'n be sorry when it's too late," said Hal. 
 
 "Tush!" cried Demdike, " my only regret will be 
 that Uriel's slaughter is paid for by such a worthless 
 life as thine." 
 
 "Then whoy tak it ?" demanded Hal. " 'Specially 
 whon yo'n lose your chilt by doing so." 
 
 " My child I" exclaimed Demdike, surprised. " How 
 mean you, sirrah ?" 
 
 " Ey mean this," replied Hal, coolly; "that if ey 
 dee to-morrow mornin' your chilt dees too. Whon ey 
 ondertook this job ey calkilated mey chances, an' tuk 
 precautions eforehond. Your chilt's a hostage fo mey 
 safety." 
 
 " Curses on thee and thy cunning," cried Demdike; 
 " but I will not be outwitted by a hind like thee. I
 
 THE LANCASHRE WITCHES. 105 
 
 ■will have the child, and yet not be baulked of my 
 revenge." 
 
 " Yo'n never ha' it, except os a breathless corpse, 
 'bowt mey consent," rejoined Hal. 
 
 " We shall see," cried Demdike, rushing forth, and 
 bidding the guards look well to the prisoner. 
 
 But ere long he returned with a gloomy and disap- 
 pointed expression of countenance, and again approach- 
 ing the prisoner said, "Thou hast spoken the truth. 
 The infant is in the hands of some innocent bein^ over 
 whom I have no power." 
 
 " Ey towdee so, wizard," replied Hal, laughing. 
 " Hoind os ey be, ey'm a match fo' thee, — ha! ha! 
 ]\ T eaw, mey life agen t' chilt's. Win yo set me free?" 
 
 Demdike deliberated. 
 
 " Harkee, wizard," cried Hal. "if yo're hatching 
 treason ey'n dun. T' sartunty o' revenge win sweeten 
 mey last moments." 
 
 " Will you swear to deliver the child to me, un- 
 harmed, if I set you free?" asked Demdike. 
 
 "It's a bargain, wizard,' 5 rejoined Hal o' Nabs; "ey 
 swear. Boh yo mun set me free furst, fo' ey winnaw tak 
 your word." 
 
 Demdike turned away disdainfully, and addressing 
 the arquebussiers, said, " You behold this warrant, 
 guard. The prisoner is committed to my custody. I 
 will produce him on the morrow, or account for his 
 absence to the Earl of Derby." 
 
 One of the arquebussiers examined the order, and
 
 106 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 vouching for its correctness, the others signified their 
 assent to the arrangement, upon which Demdike mo- 
 tioned the prisoner to follow him, and quitted the 
 chamber. No interruption was offered to Hal's egress, 
 but he stopped within the court-yard, where Demdike 
 awaited him, and unfastened the leathern thong that 
 bound together his hands. 
 
 "Now go and bring the child to me," said the 
 wizard. 
 
 "Nah, ey'st neaw bring it ye myself," rejoined Hal. 
 1 ' Ey knoas better nor that. Be at t' church porch i ? 
 half an hour, an t' bantlin shan be delivered to ye safe 
 an sound." 
 
 And without waiting for a reply, he ran off with great 
 swiftness. 
 
 At the appointed time Demdike sought the church, 
 and as he drew near it there issued from the porch a 
 female, who hastily placing the child, wrapped in a 
 mantle, in his arms, tarried for no speech from him, 
 but instantly disappeared. Demdike, however, recog- 
 nised in her the miller's daughter, Dorothy Croft.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 107 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE EXECUTIONER. 
 
 Dawn came at last, after a long and weary night to 
 many within and without the abbey. Every thing 
 betokened a dismal day. The atmosphere was damp, 
 and oppressive to the spirits, while the raw cold 
 sensibly affected the frame. All astir were filled with 
 gloom and despondency, and secretly breathed a wish 
 that the tragical business of the day were ended. The 
 vast range of Pendle was obscured by clouds, and ere 
 long the vapours descended into the valleys, and rain 
 began to fall; at first slightly, but afterwards in heavy 
 continuous showers. Melancholy was the aspect of the 
 abbey, and it required no stretch of imagination to 
 fancy that the old structure was deploring the fate of 
 its former ruler. To those impressed with the idea 
 — and many there were who were so — the very stones 
 of the convent church seemed dissolving into tears. The 
 statues of the saints appeared to weep, and the great 
 statue of Saint Gregory de Northbury over the porch 
 seemed bowed down with grief. The grotesquely carved
 
 ] 08 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 heads on the spouts grinned horribly at the abbot's 
 destroyers, and spouted forth cascades of water 
 as if with the intent of drowning them. So deluging 
 and incessant were the showers that it seemed, indeed, 
 as if the abbey would be flooded. All the inequalities 
 of ground within the great quadrangle of the cloisters 
 looked like ponds, and the various water-spouts from the 
 dormitory, the refectory, and the chapter-house, con- 
 tinuing to jet forth streams into the court below, the 
 ambulatories were soon filled ankle-deep, and even the 
 lower apartments, on which they opened, invaded. 
 
 Surcharged with moisture, the royal banner on the 
 gate drooped and clung to the staff, as if it too shared 
 in the general depression, or as if the sovereign au- 
 thority it represented had given way. The counte- 
 nances and deportment of the men harmonised with 
 the weather; they moved about gloomily and despond- 
 ently, their bright accoutrements sullied with the wet, 
 and their buskins clogged with mire. A forlorn sight 
 it was to watch the shivering sentinels on the walls ; and 
 yet more forlorn to see the groups of the abbot's old re- 
 tainers gathering without, wrapped in their blue woollen 
 cloaks, patiently enduring the drenching showers, and 
 awaiting 1 the last awful scene. But the saddest sight of 
 all was on the hill, already described, called the Hole- 
 houses. Here two other lesser gibbets had been erected 
 during the night, one on either hand of the loftier 
 instrument of justice, and the carpenters were yet em- 
 ployed in finishing their work , having been delayed by
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 109 
 
 the badness of the weather. Half drowned by the 
 torrents that fell upon them, the poor fellows were pro- 
 tected from interference with their disagreeable occu- 
 pation by half-a-dozen well-mounted and well-armed 
 troopers, and by as many halberdiers; and this company, 
 completely exposed to the weather, suffered severely 
 from wet and cold. The rain beat against the gallows, 
 ran down its tall naked posts, and collected in pools at 
 its feet. Attracted by some strange instinct, which 
 seemed to give them a knowledge of the object of these 
 terrible preparations, two ravens wheeled screaming 
 round the fatal tree, and at length one of them settled on 
 the cross-beam > and could with difficulty be dislodged 
 by the shouts of the men, when it flew away, 
 croaking hoarsely. Up this gentle hill, ordinarily so 
 soft and beautiful, but now abhorrent as a Golgotha, 
 in the eyes of the beholders, groups of rustics and 
 monks had climbed over ground rendered slippery 
 with moisture, and had gathered round the paling 
 encircling the terrible apparatus, looking the images 
 of despair and woe. 
 
 Even those within the abbey, and sheltered from the 
 storm, shared the all-pervading despondency. The 
 refectory looked dull and comfortless, and the logs 
 on the hearth hissed and sputtered, and would 
 not burn. Green wood had been brought instead of 
 dry fuel by the drowsy henchman. The viands on 
 the board provoked not the appetite, and the men 
 emptied their cups of ale, yawned and stretched their
 
 110 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 arms, as if tliey would fain sleep an hour or two longer. 
 The sense of discomfort was heightened by the entrance 
 of those whose term of watch had been relieved, and 
 who cast their dripping cloaks on the floor, while 
 two or three savage dogs, steaming with moisture, 
 stretched their huge lengths before the sullen fire, and 
 disputed all approach to it. 
 
 Within the great hall were already gathered the re- 
 tainers of the Earl of Derby, but the nobleman him- 
 self had not appeared. Having passed the greater 
 part of the night in conference with one person or 
 another, and the abbot's flight having caused him 
 much disquietude, though he did not hear of it till the 
 fugitive was recovered ; the earl would not seek his couch 
 until within an hour of daybreak, and his attendants, 
 considering the state of the weather, and that it yet 
 wanted full two hours to the time appointed for the exe- 
 cution, did not think it needful to disturb him. Braddyll 
 and Assheton, however, were up and ready, but despite 
 their firmness of nerve, they yielded like the rest to 
 the depressing influence of the weather, and began to 
 have some mis^ivino's as to their own share in the tra- 
 gedy about to be enacted. The various gentlemen in 
 attendance paced to and fro within the hall, holding 
 but slight converse together, anxiously counting the mi- 
 nutes, for the time appeared to pass on with unwonted 
 slowness, and ever and anon glancing through the 
 diamond panes of the window at the rain pouring down 
 steadily without, and coining back again hopeless of 
 amendment in the weather.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. Ill 
 
 If such, were the disheartening influence of the 
 day on those who had nothing to apprehend, what 
 must its effect have been on the poor captives ! Woeful 
 indeed. The two monks suffered a complete prostration 
 of spirit. All the resolution which Father Haydocke 
 had displayed in his interview with the Earl of 
 Derby failed him now, and he yielded to the 
 agonies of despair. Father Eastgate was in little better 
 condition, and gave vent to unavailing lamentations, 
 instead of paying heed to the consolatory discourse of 
 the monk who had been permitted to visit him. 
 
 The abbot was better sustained. Though greatly 
 enfeebled by the occurrences of the night, yet in pro- 
 portion as his bodily strength decreased, his mental 
 energies rallied. Since the confession of his secret 
 offence, and the conviction he had obtained that 
 his supposed victim still lived, a weight seemed 
 taken from his breast, and he had no longer any 
 dread of death. Rather he looked to the speedy 
 termination of existence with hopeful pleasure. He pre- 
 pared himself as decently as the means afforded him 
 permitted, for his last appearance before the world, 
 but refused all refreshment except a cup of water, and 
 being left to himself was praying fervently, when a 
 man was admitted into his cell. Thinking it might be 
 the executioner, come to summon him, he arose, and 
 to his surprise beheld Hal o' Nabs. The countenance 
 of the rustic was pale, but his bearing was determined. 
 
 "You here, my son," cried Paslew. " I hoped you 
 had escaped."
 
 112 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Ey'm i' nah dawnger, feayther abbut," replied Hal. 
 ei Ey'n gefcten leef to visit ye fo a minute only, so ey 
 mun be brief. May yourself easy, ye shanna dee be't 
 hongmon's honds." 
 
 " How, my son !" cried Paslew. " I understand you 
 not." 
 
 " Yo'n onderstond me weel enough by-an-by," replied 
 Hal. " Dunnah be feart wlion ye see me next; an 
 comfort yoursel that whotever cums and goes, your 
 death shall be avenged o' your warst foe." 
 
 Paslew would have sought some further explanation, 
 but Hal stepped quickly backwards, and striking his foot 
 against the door, it was instantly opened by the guard, 
 and he went forth. 
 
 Not long after this, the Earl of Derby entered the 
 great hall, and his first inquiry was as to the safety of 
 the prisoners. When satisfied of this, he looked forth, 
 and shuddered at the dismal state of the weather. 
 While he was addressing some remarks on this subject, 
 and on its interference with the tragical exhibition about 
 to take place, an officer entered the hall, followed by 
 several persons of inferior condition, amongst whom was 
 Hal o' Nabs, and marched up to the earl, while the 
 others remained standing at a respectful distance. 
 
 " What news do you bring me, sir ?" cried the earl, 
 noticing the officer's evident uneasiness of manner. 
 " Nothing hath happened to the prisoners? God's death ! 
 if it hath, you shall all answer for it with your bodies." 
 
 " Nothing hath happened to them, my lord," said 
 the officer, — " but "
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 113 
 
 " But what ?" interrupted the earl. " Out with it 
 quickly." 
 
 " The executioner from Lancaster and his two aids 
 have fled," replied the officer. 
 
 " Fled !" exclaimed the earl, stamping his foot with 
 rage ; " now, as I live, this is a device to delay the 
 execution till some new attempt at rescue can be made. 
 But it shall fail, if I string up the abbot myself. Death ! 
 can no other hangmen be found ? ha !" 
 
 " Of a surety, my lord ; but all have an aversion to 
 the office, and hold it opprobrious, especially to put 
 churchmen to death," replied the officer. 
 
 " Opprobrious or not, it must be done," replied the 
 earl. " See that fitting persons are provided." 
 
 At this moment Hal o' Nabs stepped forward. 
 
 " Ey 'm willing to onderake t' job, my lord, an' 
 to hong t' abbut, without fee or re wort," he said. 
 
 " Thou bear'st him a grudge, I suppose, good fel- 
 low," replied the earl, laughing at the rustic's uncouth 
 appearance ; " but thou seem'st a stout fellow, and one 
 not likely to flinch, and may discharge the office as 
 well as another. If no better man can be found, let 
 him do it," he added to the officer. 
 
 " Ey humbly thonk your lortship," replied Hal, 
 inwardly rejoicing at the success of his scheme. But 
 his countenance fell when he perceived Demdike ad- 
 vance from behind the others. 
 
 "This man is not to be trusted, my lord," said Dem- 
 dike, coming forward; " he has some mischievous design 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 in making the request. So far from bearing enmity to 
 the abbot, it was he who assisted him in his attempt 
 to escape last night." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed the earl, " is this a new trick ? 
 Bring the fellow forward that I may examine him." 
 
 But Hal was gone. Instantly divining [Demdike's 
 purpose, and seeing his chance lost, he mingled with 
 the lookers-on, who covered his retreat. Nor could he 
 be found when sought for by the guard. 
 
 " See you provide a substitute quickly, sir," cried 
 the earl, angrily, to the officer. 
 
 " It is needless to take further trouble, my lord/' re- 
 plied Demdike; " I am come to offer myself as execu- 
 tioner." 
 
 " Thou !" exclaimed the earl. 
 
 "Ay," replied the other. "When I heard that 
 the men from Lancaster were fled, I instantly knew 
 that some scheme to frustrate the ends of justice was on 
 foot, and I at once resolved to undertake the office my- 
 self rather than delay or risk should occur. What this 
 man's aim was, who hath just offered himself, I partly 
 guess, but it hath failed; and if your lordship will in- 
 trust the matter to me I will answer that no further im- 
 pediment shall arise, but that the sentence shall be 
 fully carried out, and the law satisfied. Your lordship 
 can trust me." 
 
 et I know it," replied the earl. " Be it as you will. 
 It is now on the stroke of nine. At ten let all be in 
 readiness to set out for Wiswall Hall. The rain may
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 115 
 
 have ceased by that time, but no weather must stay you. 
 Go forth with the new executioner, sir," he added to 
 the officer, " and sec all necessary preparations made." 
 
 And as Demdike bowed, and departed with the 
 officer, the earl sat down with his retainers to break 
 his fast. 
 
 I 2
 
 116 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WI8WALL HALL. 
 
 Shortly before ten o'clock a numerous cortege, con- 
 sisting of a troop of horse in their full equipments, 
 a band of archers with their bows over their 
 shoulders, and a long train of barefoot monks, who had 
 been permitted to attend, set out from the abbey. Be- 
 hind them came a varlet with a paper mitre on his head, 
 and a lathen crosier in his hand, covered with a sur- 
 coat, on which was emblazoned, but torn and reversed, 
 the arms of Paslew; argent, a fess between three mullets, 
 sable, pierced of the field, a crescent for difference. 
 After him came another varlet bearing a banner, on 
 which was painted a grotesque figure in a half-mili- 
 tary, half-monastic garb, representing the " Earl of 
 Poverty," with this distich beneath it : — 
 
 Priest and warrior — rich and poor, 
 He shall be hanged at his own door. 
 
 Next followed a tumbrel, drawn by two horses, in 
 which sat the abbot alone, the two other prisoners being
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 117 
 
 kept back for the present. Then came Demdike, in 
 a leathern jerkin and blood-red hose, fitting closely to 
 his sinewy limbs, and wrapped in a houppeland of the 
 same colour as the hose, with a coil of rope round his 
 neck. He walked between two ill-favoured personages 
 habited in black , whom he had chosen as assistants. A 
 band of halberdiers brought up the rear. The proces- 
 sion moved slowly along; the passing-bell tolling each 
 minute, and a muffled drum sounding hollowly at 
 intervals. 
 
 Shortly before the procession started the rain ceased, 
 but the air felt damp and chill, and the roads were 
 inundated. Passing out at the north-eastern gateway, 
 the gloomy train skirted the south side of the convent 
 church, and went on in the direction of the village 
 of Whalley. When near the east end of the holy 
 edifice, the abbot beheld two coffins borne along, and, 
 on inquiry, learnt that they contained the bodies of Bess 
 Demdike and Cuthbert Ashbead, who were about to be 
 interred in the cemetery. At this moment his eye for 
 the first time encountered that of his implacable foe, and 
 he then discovered that he was to serve as his executioner. 
 At first Paslew felt much trouble at this thought, 
 but the feeling quickly passed away. On reaching 
 Whalley, every door was found closed, and every win- 
 dow shut ; so that the spectacle was lost upon the in- 
 habitants; and after a brief halt, the cavalcade set out 
 for Wis wall Hall. 
 
 Sprung from an ancient family residing in the neigh-
 
 118 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 bourhood of Whalley, Abbot Paslew was the second son 
 of Francis Paslew of Wis wall Hall, a great gloomy stone 
 mansion, situated at the foot of the south-western side of 
 Pendle Hill, where his brother Francis still resided. 
 Of a cold and cautious character, Francis Paslew, 
 second of the name, held aloof from the insurrection, 
 and when his brother was arrested he wholly abandoned 
 him. Still the owner of Wiswall had not altogether 
 escaped suspicion, and it was probably as much with 
 the view of degrading him as of adding to the abbot's 
 punishment, that the latter was taken to the hall on 
 the morning of his execution. Be this as it may, the 
 cortege toiled thither through roads bad in the best of 
 seasons, but now, since the heavy rain, scarcely passable; 
 and it arrived there m about half an hour, and drew 
 up on the broad green lawn. Window and door of the 
 hall were closed ; no smoke issued from the heavy pile of 
 chimneys ; and to all outward seeming the place was 
 utterly deserted. In answer to inquiries, it appeared that 
 Francis Paslew had departed for Northumberland on 
 the previous day, taking all his household with him. 
 
 In earlier years a quarrel having occurred between the 
 haughty abbot and the churlish Francis, the brothers 
 rarely met, whence it chanced that John Paslew had 
 seldom visited the place of his birth of late, though lying 
 so near to the abbey, and, indeed, forming part of its 
 ancient dependencies. It was sad to view it now, and 
 yet the house, gloomy as it was, recalled seasons with 
 which, though they might awaken regret, no guilty
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 119 
 
 associations were connected. Dark was the hall, and 
 desolate, but on the fine old trees around it the rooks 
 were settling, and their loud cawings pleased him, 
 and excited gentle emotions. For a few moments he 
 grew young again, and forgot why he was there. 
 Fondly surveying the house, the terraced garden, in 
 which, as a boy, he had so often strayed, and the 
 park beyond it, where he had chased the deer ; his 
 gaze rose to the cloudy heights of Pendle, springing 
 immediately behind the mansion, and up which, he had 
 frequently climbed. The flood-gates of memory were 
 opened at once, and a whole tide of long-buried 
 feelings rushed upon his heart. 
 
 From this half-painful, half-pleasurable retrospect he 
 was aroused by the loud blast of a trumpet, thrice 
 blown. A recapitulation of his offences, together with 
 his sentence, was read by a herald, after which the 
 reversed blazonry was fastened upon the door of the hall, 
 just below a stone escutcheon on which was carved the 
 arms of the family ; while the paper mitre was torn and 
 trampled underfoot, the lathen crosier broken in twain, 
 and the scurril banner hacked in pieces. 
 
 While this degrading act was performed, a man in a 
 miller's white garb, with the hood drawn over his face, 
 forced his way towards the tumbrel, and while the 
 attention of the guard was otherwise engaged, whis- 
 pered in Paslew's ear, 
 
 " Ey han failed i' mey scheme, feayther abbut, boh 
 rest assured ey'n avenge you. Demdikc shan ha' mey 
 Sheffield thwittle i' his heart 'efore he's a day older."
 
 120 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " The wizard has a charm against steel, my son, and 
 indeed is proof against all weapons forged by men," 
 replied Paslew, who recognised the voice of Hal o' 
 Nabs, and hoped by this assertion to divert him from 
 his purpose. 
 
 " Ha ! say yo so, feayther abbut ?" cried Hal. "Then 
 ey'n reach him wi' summot sacred." And he dis- 
 appeared . 
 
 At this moment, word was given to return, and in 
 half-an-hour the cavalcade arrived at the abbey in the 
 same order it had left it. 
 
 Though the rain had ceased, heavy clouds still hung 
 overhead, threatening another deluge, and the aspect of 
 the abbey remained gloomy as ever. The bell con- 
 tinued to toll ; drums were beaten ; and trumpets 
 sounded from the outer and inner gateway, and from 
 the three quadrangles. The cavalcade drew up in 
 front of the great northern entrance ; and its return 
 being announced within, the two other captives were 
 brought forth, each fastened upon a hurdle, harnessed 
 to a stout horse. They looked dead already, so ghastly 
 was the hue of their cheeks. 
 
 The abbot's turn came next. Another hurdle was 
 brought forward, and Demdike advanced to the tumbrel. 
 But Paslew recoiled from his touch, and sprang to the 
 ground unaided. He was then laid on his back upon the 
 hurdle, and his hands and feet were bound fist with ropes 
 to the twisted timbers. While this painful task was 
 roughly performed by the wizard's two ill-favoured assist- 
 antst, he crowd of rustics, who looked on, murmured and
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 121 
 
 exhibited such strong tokens of displeasure, that the guard 
 thought it prudent to keep them off with their halberts. 
 But when all was done, Demdike motioned to a man 
 standing behind him, to advance, and the person who 
 was wrapped in a russet cloak complied, drew forth 
 an infant, and held it in such way that the abbot could 
 see it. Paslew understood what was meant, but he 
 uttered not a word. Demdike then knelt down beside 
 him, as if ascertaining the security of the cords, and 
 whispered in his ear: — 
 
 " Recall thy malediction, and my dagger shall save 
 thee from the last indignity !" 
 
 " Never," replied Paslew; " the curse is irrevocable. 
 But I would not recall it if I could. As I have said, 
 thy child shall be a witch, and the mother of witches — 
 but all shall be swept off— all !" 
 
 " Hell's torments seize thee !" cried the wizard, 
 furiously. 
 
 li Nay, thou hast done thy worst to me," rejoined 
 Paslew, meekly, " thou canst not harm me beyond 
 the grave. Look to thyself, for even as thou speakest, 
 thy child is taken from thee." 
 
 And so it was. While Demdike knelt beside Paslew, 
 a hand was put forth, and, before the man who had 
 custody of the infant could prevent it, his little charge 
 was snatched from him. This the abbot saw, though 
 the wizard perceived it not. The latter instantly 
 sprang to his feet. 
 
 11 Where is the child?" he demanded of the fellow in 
 the russet cloak.
 
 122 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " It was taken from me by yon tall man who is 
 disappearing through the gateway," replied the other, 
 in great trepidation. 
 
 " Ha ! he here I" exclaimed Demdike, regarding the 
 dark figure with a look of despair. "It is gone from 
 me for ever I" 
 
 " Ay, for ever!" echoed the abbot, solemnly. 
 
 "But revenge is still left me — revenge !" cried 
 Demdike, with an infuriated gesture. 
 
 " Then glut thyself with it speedily," replied the 
 abbot, " for thy time here is short." 
 
 " I care not if it be," replied Demdike; " I shall 
 live long enough if I survive thee."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 123 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE HOLEHOUSES. 
 
 At this moment the blast of a trumpet resounded 
 from the gateway, and the Earl of Derby, with the 
 sheriff on his right hand, and Assheton on the left, and 
 mounted on a richly caparisoned charger., rode forth. 
 He was preceded by four javelin-men, and followed by 
 two heralds in their tabards. 
 
 To doleful tolling of bells — to solemn music — to 
 plaintive hymn chanted by monks — to roll of 
 muffled drum at intervals — the sad cortege set forth. 
 Loud cries from the bystanders marked its departure, 
 and some of them followed it, but many turned away, 
 unable to endure the sight of horror about to ensue. 
 Amongst those who went on was Hal o' Nabs, but he 
 took care to keep out of the way of the guard, though 
 he was little likely to be recognised, owing to his dis- 
 guise. 
 
 Despite the miserable state of the weather, a great 
 multitude was assembled at the place of execution, and 
 they watched the approaching cavalcade with moody 
 curiosity. To prevent disturbance, arquebussiers were
 
 124 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 stationed in parties here and there, and a clear course 
 for the cortege was preserved by two lines of hal- 
 berdiers with crossed pikes. But notwithstanding 
 this, much difficulty was experienced in mounting the 
 hill. Rendered slippery by the wet, and yet more so 
 by the trampling of the crowd, the road was so bad in 
 places that the horses could scarcely drag the hurdles 
 up it, and more than one delay occurred. The stop- 
 pages were always denounced by groans, yells, and 
 hootings from the mob, and these, neither the menaces 
 of the Earl of Derby, nor the active measures of the 
 guard could repress. 
 
 At length, however, the cavalcade reached its des- 
 tination. Then the crowd struggled forward, and 
 settled into a dense compact ring round the circular 
 railing enclosing the place of execution, within which 
 were drawn up the Earl of Derby, the sheriff, Asshe- 
 ton, and the principal gentlemen, together with Dem- 
 dike and his assistants ; the guard forming a circle 
 three deep round them. 
 
 Paslew was first unloosed, and when he stood up, he 
 found Father Smith, the late prior, beside him, and 
 tenderly embraced him. 
 
 "Be of good courage, Father Abbot," said the prior; " a 
 few moments and you will be numbered with the just." 
 
 "My hope is in the infinite mercy of Heaven, 
 father," replied Paslew, sighing deeply. " Pray for me 
 at the last," 
 
 " Doubt it not," returned the prior, fervently. " I 
 will pray for you now and ever."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 125 
 
 Meanwhile, the bonds of the two other captives 
 were unfastened, but they were found wholly unable to 
 stand without support. A lofty ladder had been placed 
 against the central scaffold, and up this Demdike 
 having cast off his houppeland, mounted and adjusted 
 the rope. His tall gaunt figure fully displayed in his 
 tight-fitting red garb made him look like a hideous 
 scarecrow. His appearance was greeted by the mob 
 with a perfect hurricane of indignant outcries and yells. 
 But he heeded them not, but calmly pursued his task. 
 Above him wheeled the two ravens, who had never 
 quitted the place since daybreak, uttering their dis- 
 cordant cries. When all was done, he descended a 
 few steps, and taking a black hood from his girdle to 
 place over the head of his victim, called out in a 
 voice which had little human in its tone, " I w r ait for 
 you, John Paslew." 
 
 "Are you ready, Paslew?" demanded the Earl of 
 
 Derby. 
 
 "I am, my lord," replied the abbot. And em- 
 bracing the prior for the last time, he added, " Vale, 
 
 carissimef rater, in aternum vale! et Dominus tecum sit 
 
 in ultionem inimicorum nost-iorum!" 
 
 " It is the king's pleasure that you say not a word 
 
 in your justification to the mob, Paslew," observed the 
 
 earl. 
 
 " I had no such intention, my lord," replied the 
 
 abbot. 
 
 " Then tarry no longer," said the earl; " if you need 
 
 aid you shall have it."
 
 126 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 "I require none," replied Paslew, resolutely. 
 
 With this he mounted the ladder, with as much 
 firmness and dignity as if ascending the steps of a 
 tribune. 
 
 Hitherto, nothing but yells and angry outcries had 
 stunned the ears of the lookers-on, and several missives 
 had been hurled at Demdike, some of which took effect, 
 though without occasioning him discomfiture; but when 
 the abbot appeared above the heads of the guard, the 
 tumult instantly subsided, and profound silence ensued. 
 Not a breath was drawn by the spectators. The ravens 
 alone continued their ominous croaking. 
 
 Hal o' Nabs, who stood on the outskirts of the ring, 
 saw thus far, but he could bear it no longer, and rushed 
 down the hill. Just as he reached the level ground, 
 a culverin was fired from the gateway, and the next 
 moment a loud wailing cry bursting from the mob told 
 that the abbot was launched into eternity. 
 
 Hal would not look back, but went slowly on, and 
 presently afterwards other horrid sounds dinned in his 
 ears, telling that all was over with the two other 
 sufferers. Sickened and faint, he leaned against a 
 wall for support. How long he continued thus, 
 he knew not, but he heard the cavalcade coming down 
 the hill, and saw the Earl of Derby and his attendants 
 ride past. Glancing towards the place of execution, 
 Hal then perceived that the abbot had been cut down, 
 and rousing himself he joined the crowd now rushing 
 towards the gate, and ascertained that the body of 
 Paslew was to be taken to the convent church, and-
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 127 
 
 deposited there till orders were to be given respecting 
 its interment. He learnt, also, that the removal of the 
 corpse was intrusted to Demdike. Fired by this in- 
 telligence, and suddenly conceiving a wild project of 
 vengeance, founded upon what he had heard from the 
 abbot of the wizard being proof against weapons forged 
 by men, he hurried to the church, entered it, 
 the door being thrown open, and rushing up to the 
 gallery, contrived to get out through a window upon 
 the top of the porch, where he secreted himself behind 
 the great stone statue of Saint Gregory. 
 
 The information he had obtained proved correct. 
 Ere long a mournful train approached the church, and 
 a bier was set down before the porch. A black hood 
 covered the face of the dead, but the vestments showed 
 that it was the body of Paslew. 
 
 At the head of the bearers was Demdike, and when 
 the body was set down he advanced towards it, and, re- 
 moving the hood, gazed at the livid and distorted features. 
 
 " At length I am fully avenged," he said. 
 
 " And Abbot Paslew, also," cried a voice above him. 
 
 Demdike looked up, but the look was his last, for the 
 ponderous statue of Saint Gregory de Northbury, 
 launched from its pedestal, fell upon his head, and 
 crushed him to the ground. A mangled and breath- 
 less mass was taken from beneath the image, and the 
 hands and visage of Paslew were found spotted with 
 blood dashed from the gory carcase. The author of the 
 wizard's destruction was suspected, but never found, 
 nor was it positively known who had done the deed
 
 128 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 till years after, when Hal o' Nabs, who meanwhile had 
 married pretty Dorothy Croft, and had been blessed by 
 numerous offspring in the union, made his last confession, 
 and then he exhibited no remarkable or becoming peni- 
 tence for the act, neither was he refused absolution. 
 
 Thus it came to pass that the abbot and his enemy 
 perished together. The mutilated remains of the wizard 
 w*ere placed in a shell, and huddled into the grave where 
 his wife had that morning been laid. But no prayer was 
 said over him. And the superstitious believed that the 
 body was carried off that very night by the Fiend, and 
 taken to a witch's sabbath in the ruined tower on Riming- 
 ton Moor. Certain it was, that the unhallowed grave was 
 disturbed. The body of Paslew was decently interred 
 in the north aisle of the parish church of Whalley, 
 beneath a stone with a Gothic cross sculptured upon it, 
 and bearing the piteous inscription: — " JlfttSCrCW met." 
 
 But in the belief of the vulgar the abbot did not rest 
 tranquilly. For many years afterwards a white-robed 
 monastic figure was seen to flit along the cloisters, pass 
 out at the gate, and disappear with a wailing cry over 
 the Holehouses. And the same ghostly figure was often 
 seen to glide through the corridor in the abbot's lodg- 
 ing, and vanish at the door of the chamber leading to 
 the little oratory. Thus Whalley Abbey was supposed 
 to be haunted, and few liked to wander through its 
 deserted cloisters, or ruined church after dark. The 
 abbot's tragical end was thus recorded : — 
 
 glaums ^aslclo : <Eapitnk &{Fcctus S&upplfcfo. 
 
 12° JWcnsts JWartit, 1537.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 129 
 
 As to the infant upon whom the abbot's malediction 
 fell, it was reserved for the dark destinies shadowed forth 
 in the dread anathema he had uttered : to the develop- 
 ment of which the tragic drama about to follow is 
 devoted, and to which the fate of Abbot Paslew forms 
 a necessary and fitting prologue. Thus far the veil of 
 the Future may be drawn aside. That infant and her 
 progeny became the Lancashire Witches. 
 
 END OF THE INTRODUCTION. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 BOOK THE FIEST. 
 
 &It?on Bcbttc. 
 
 k2
 
 BOOK THE FIRST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE MAY QUEEN. 
 
 On a May Day, in the early part of the seventeenth 
 century, and a most lovely May day, too, admirably 
 adapted to usher in the merriest month of the year, 
 and seemingly made expressly for the occasion, a 
 wake was held at Whalley, to which all the neigh- 
 bouring country folk resorted, and indeed many of the 
 gentry as well, for in the good old times, when England 
 was still Merry England, a wake had attraction for all 
 classes alike, and especially in Lancashire ; for, with pride 
 1 speak it, there were no lads, who in running, vaulting, 
 wrestling, dancing, or in any other manly exercise, could 
 compare with the Lancashire lads. In archery, above 
 all, none could match them, for were not their ancestors 
 the stout bowmen and billmen whose cloth-yard shafts-, 
 and trenchant weapons, won the day at Floddcn ? And 
 were they not true sons of their fathers ? And then, 
 I speak it with yet greater pride, there were few, if any, 
 lasses who could compare in comeliness with the rosy- 
 cheeked, dark-haired, bright-eyed lasses of Lancashire.
 
 134 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 Assemblages of this kind, therefore, where the best 
 specimens of either sex were to be met with, were 
 sure to be well attended, and in spite of an enact- 
 ment passed in the preceding reign of Elizabeth, 
 prohibiting " piping, playing, bear-baiting, and bull- 
 baiting on the Sabbath days, or on any other days, 
 and also superstitious ringing of bells, wakes, and 
 common feasts," they were not only not interfered with, 
 but rather encouraged by the higher orders. Indeed, 
 it was well known that the reigning monarch, James 
 the First, inclined the other way, and, desirous of 
 checking the growing spirit of Puritanism throughout 
 the kingdom, had openly expressed himself in favour 
 of honest recreation after evening prayers and upon 
 holidays ; and, furthermore, had declared that he liked 
 well the spirit of his good subjects in Lancashire, and 
 would not see them punished for indulging in lawful 
 exercises, but that ere long he would pay them a visit 
 in one of his progresses, and judge for himself, and if he 
 found ail things as they had been represented to him, 
 he would grant them still further licence. Meanwhile, 
 this expression of the royal opinion removed every re- 
 striction, and old sports and pastimes, May games, 
 Whitsun-ales, and morris-dances, with rush-bearings, 
 bell-ringings, wakes, and feasts, were as much practised 
 as before the passing of the obnoxious enactment of 
 Elizabeth. The Puritans and Precisians discountenanced 
 them, it is true, as much as ever, and would have put 
 them down if they could, as savouring of papistry and 
 idolatry, and some rigid divines thundered against
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 135 
 
 them from the pulpit; but with the king and the au- 
 thorities in their favour, the people little heeded these 
 denunciations against them, and abstained not from 
 any " honest recreation" whenever a holiday occurred. 
 
 If Lancashire was famous for wakes, the wakes of 
 Whalley were famous even in Lancashire. The men of 
 the district were in general a hardy, handsome race, 
 of the genuine Saxon breed, and passionately fond of 
 all kinds of pastime, and the women had their full 
 share of the beauty indigenous to the soil. Besides, 
 it was a secluded spot, in the heart of a wild mountainous 
 region, and though occasionally visited by travellers 
 journeying northward, or by others coming from the op- 
 posite direction, retained a primitive simplicity of man- 
 ners, and a great partiality for old customs and habits. 
 
 The natural beauties of the place, contrasted with the 
 dreary region around it, and heightened by the pic- 
 turesque ruins of the ancient abbey, part of which, 
 namely, the old abbot's lodgings, had been converted 
 into a residence by the Asshetons, and was now occu- 
 pied by Sir Ralph Assheton, while the other was left 
 to the ravages of time, made it always an object of 
 attraction to those residing near it ; but when on the May 
 Day in question, there was not only to be a wake, but a 
 may-pole set on the green, and a rush-bearing with mor- 
 ris-dancers besides, together with Whitsun-ale at the 
 Abbey, crowds flocked to "Whalley from Wiswall, Cold 
 Coates, and Clithero, from Ribchester and Blackburn, 
 from Padiham and Pendle, and even from places more 
 remote. Not only was John Lawe's of the Dragon full,
 
 136 THE LANCASHIEE WITCHES. 
 
 but the Chequers, and the Swan also, and the roadside 
 ale-house to boot. Sir Ralph Assheton had several guests 
 at the Abbey, and others were expected in the course of 
 the day, while Doctor Ormerod had friends staying with 
 him at the vicarage. 
 
 Soon after midnight, on the morning of the festival, 
 many young persons of the village, of both sexes, had 
 arisen, and, to the sound of horn, had repaired to the 
 neighbouring woods, and there gathered a vast stock of 
 green boughs and flowering branches of the sweetly-per- 
 fumed hawthorn, wild roses, and honeysuckle, with 
 baskets of violets, cowslips, primroses, blue-bells, and 
 other wild flowers, and returning in the same order 
 they went forth, fashioned the branches into green 
 bowers within the church-yard, or round about the 
 may-pole, set up on the green, and decorated them 
 afterwards with garlands and crowns of flowers. This 
 morning ceremonial ought to have been performed 
 without wetting the feet; but, though some pains 
 were taken in the matter, few could achieve the 
 difficult task, except those carried over the dewy 
 grass by their lusty swains. On the day before 
 the rushes had been gathered, and the rush- 
 cart piled, shaped, trimmed, and adorned by those ex- 
 perienced in the task, (and it was one requiring both 
 taste and skill, as will be seen when the cart itself shall 
 come forth,) while others had borrowed for its adorn- 
 ment, from the abbey and elsewhere, silver tankards, 
 drinking cups, spoons, ladles, brooches, watches, chains, 
 and bracelets, so as to make an imposing show.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 137 
 
 Day was ushered in by a merry peal of bells from 
 the tower of the old parish church, and the ringers 
 practised all kinds of joyous changes during the 
 morning, and fired many a clanging volley. The 
 whole village was early astir; and as these were times 
 when good hours were kept; and as early rising is a 
 famous sharpener of the appetite, especially when attended 
 with exercise, so an hour before noon the rustics one and 
 all sat down to dinner, the strangers bein^ entertained 
 by their friends, and if they had no friends, throwing 
 themselves upon the general hospitality. The ale-houses 
 were reserved for tippling at a later hour, for it was then 
 customary for both gentleman and commoner, male as 
 well as female, as will be more fully shown hereafter, 
 to take their meals at home, and repair afterwards to 
 houses of public entertainment for wine or other liquors. 
 Private chambers were, of course, reserved for the gentry; 
 but not unfrequently the squire and his friends would 
 take their bottle with the other guests. Such was the 
 invariable practice in the northern counties in the reign 
 of James the First. 
 
 Soon after mid day, and when the bells began to 
 peal merrily again (for even ringers must recruit 
 themselves), at a small cottage in the outskirts of the 
 village, and close to the Calder, whose waters swept 
 past the trimly kept garden attached to it, two young 
 girls were employed in attiring a third, who was to re- 
 present Maid Marian, or Queen of May, in the pageant 
 then about to ensue. And, certainly, by sovereign
 
 138 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 and prescriptive right of beauty, no one better de- 
 served the high title and distinction conferred upon 
 her than this fair girl. Lovelier maiden in the whole 
 county, and however high her degree, than this rustic 
 damsel, it was impossible to find; and though the becom- 
 ing and fanciful costume in which she was decked could 
 not heighten her natural charms, it certainly displayed 
 them to advantage. Upon her smooth and beautiful 
 brow sat a gilt crown, while her dark and luxuriant hair, 
 covered behind with a scarlet coif, embroidered with 
 gold, and tied with yellow, white, and crimson ribands, 
 but otherwise wholly unconflned, swept down almost to 
 the ground. Slight and fragile, her figure was of such 
 just proportion that every movement and gesture had an 
 indescribable charm. The most courtly dame might 
 have envied her fine and taper fingers, and fancied she 
 could improve them by protecting them against the sun, 
 or by rendering them snowy white with paste or cos- 
 metic, but this was questionable: nothing certainly 
 could improve the small foot and finely turned ankle, so 
 well displayed in the red hose and smart little yellow 
 buskin, fringed with gold. A stomacher of scarlet 
 cloth, braided with yellow lace in cross bars, confined 
 her slender waist. Her robe was of carnation- coloured 
 silk, with wide sleeves, and the gold-fringed skirt de- 
 scended only a little below the knee, like the dress of a 
 modern Swiss peasant, so as to reveal the exquisite 
 symmetry of her limbs. Over all she wore a surcoat 
 of azure silk, lined with white and edged with gold.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 139 
 
 In her left hand she held a red pink as an emblem of the 
 season. So enchanting was her appearance altogether, 
 so fresh the character of her beauty, so bright the 
 bloom that dyed her lovely cheeks, that she might 
 have been taken for a personification of May herself. 
 She was indeed in the very May of life — the mingling 
 of spring and summer in womanhood; and the tender 
 blue eyes, bright and clear as diamonds of purest 
 water, the soft regular features, and the merry mouth, 
 whose ruddy parted lips, ever and anon displayed two 
 rows of pearls, completed the similitude to the attri- 
 butes of the jocund month. 
 
 Her handmaidens, both of whom were simple girls, 
 and though not destitute of some pretensions to beauty 
 themselves, in nowise to be compared with her, were 
 at the moment employed in knotting the ribands in her 
 hair, and adjusting the azure surcoat. 
 
 Attentively watching these proceedings sat on a 
 stool, placed in a corner, a little girl, some nine or 
 ten years old, with a basket of flowers on her knee. 
 The child was very diminutive, even for her age, and 
 her smallness was increased by personal deformity, 
 occasioned by contraction of the chest, and spinal 
 curviture, which raised her back above her shoulders; 
 but her features were sharp and cunning, indeed 
 almost malignant, and there was a singular and un- 
 pleasant look about the eyes, which were not placed 
 evenly in the head. Altogether she had a strange 
 old-fashioned look, and from her habitual bitterness
 
 140 THE LANCASHIKE WITCHES. 
 
 of speech, as well as from her vindictive character, 
 which, young as she was, had been displayed, with 
 some effect, on more than one occasion, she was no great 
 favourite with any one. It was curious now to watch the 
 eager and envious interest she took in the progress of her 
 sister's adornment — for such was the degree of relation- 
 ship in which she stood to the May Queen — and when 
 the surcoat was finally adjusted, and the last riband tied, 
 she broke forth, having hitherto preserved a sullen 
 silence. 
 
 " Weel, sister Alizon, ye may a farrently May Queen, 
 ey mun say," she observed, spitefully, "but to my 
 mind other Suky Worseley or Nancy Holt, here, would 
 ha' look'd prottier." 
 
 " Nah, nah, that we shouldna," rejoined one of the 
 damsels referred to; "there is na a lass i' Lanky shiar 
 to hold a condle near Alizon Device." 
 
 " Fie upon ye, for an ill-favort minx, Jennet," cried 
 Nancy Holt; " yo're jealous o' your protty sister." 
 
 " Ey jealous," cried Jennet, reddening, " an whoy 
 the firrups should ey be jealous, ey, thou saucy jade ! 
 Whon ey grow older ey'st may a prottier May Queen 
 than onny on you, and so the lads aw tell me." 
 
 " And so you will, Jennet," said Alizon Device, 
 checking, by a gentle look, the jeering laugh in which 
 Nancy seemed disposed to indulge, — " so you will, my 
 pretty little sister," she added, kissing her; " and I will 
 'tire you as well and as carefully as Susan and Nancy 
 have just 'tired me."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCIIES. 141 
 
 cl Mayhap ey shanna live till then," rejoined Jennet, 
 peevishly, " and when ey'm dead an' gone, an' laid i't' 
 cowld church-yard, yo an they win be sorry fo having 
 werreted me so." 
 
 " I have never intentionally vexed you, Jennet, love," 
 said Alizon, " and I am sure these two girls love you 
 dearly." 
 
 " Eigh, we may allowance fo her feaw tempers," 
 observed Susan Worseley; " fo we knoa that ailments 
 an deformities are sure to may folk fretful." 
 
 " Eigh, there it is," cried Jennet, sharply. " My high 
 shoulthers an sma size are always thrown i' my feace. 
 Boh ey'st grow tall i' time, an get straight, — eigh 
 straighter than yo, Suky, wi your broad back an short 
 neck, — boh if ey dunna, whot matters it? Ey shall be 
 feared at onny rate — ay, feared, wenches, by ye both." 
 
 u Nah doubt oirt, theaw little good-fo'-nothin piece o' 
 mischief," muttered Susan. 
 
 " Whot's that yo sayn, Suky?" cried Jennet, w3 
 quick cars had caught the words. " Tak care whot ye 
 do to offend me, lass," she added, shaking her thin 
 fingers armed with talon-like claws threateningly at her, 
 " or ey'll ask my granddame, Mother Demdike, to 
 quieten ye." 
 
 At the mention of this name a sudden shade came 
 over Susan's countenance. Changing colour and slightly 
 trembling, she turned away from the child, who, notic- 
 ing the effect of her threat, could not repress her 
 triumph. But again Alizon interposed.
 
 142 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Do not be alarmed, Susan," she said, * my grand- 
 mother will never harm you, I am sure ; indeed, she 
 will never harm any one ; and do not heed what little 
 Jennet says, for she is not aware of the effect of her 
 own words, or of the injury they might do our grand- 
 mother, if repeated." 
 
 " Ey dunna wish to repeat them, or to think of em," 
 sobbed Susan. 
 
 " That's good, that's kind of you, Susan," replied 
 Alizon, taking her hand. " Do not be cross any 
 more, Jennet. You see you have made her weep." 
 
 " Ey'm glad on it," rejoined the little girl, laugh- 
 ing ; "let her cry on. It'll do her good, an teach her 
 to mend her manners, and nah offend me again." 
 
 "Ey didna mean to offend ye, Jennet," sobbed 
 Susan, " boh yo're so wry then an marr'd, a body 
 canna speak to please ye." 
 
 " Weel, if ye confess your fault, ey'm satisfied," re- 
 plied the little girl ; " boh let it be a lesson to ye, 
 Suky, to keep guard o' your tongue i' future." 
 
 " It shall, ey promise ye," replied Susan, drying her 
 eyes. 
 
 At this moment a door opened, and a woman entered 
 from an inner room, having a high-crowned, conical- 
 shaped hat on her head, and broad white pinners over 
 her cheeks. Her dress was of dark red camlet, with 
 high-heeled shoes. She stooped slightly, and being 
 rather lame, supported herself on a crutch-handled 
 stick. In age she might be between forty and fifty,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 143 
 
 but she looked much older, and her features were 
 not at all prepossessing from a hooked nose and chin, 
 while their sinister effect was increased by a for- 
 mation of the eyes similar to that in Jennet, only 
 more strongly noticeable in her case. This woman 
 was Elizabeth Device, widow of John Device, about 
 whose death there was a mystery to be inquired 
 into hereafter, and mother of Alizon and Jennet, 
 though how she came to have a daughter so unlike 
 herself in all respects as the former, no one could 
 conceive; but so it was. 
 
 " Soh, ye ha donned your finery at last, Alizon," 
 said Elizabeth. " Your brother Jem has just run up 
 to say that t' rush-cart has set out, and that Robin Hood 
 an his merry men are comin , for their Queen." 
 
 " And their Queen is quite ready for them," replied 
 Alizon, moving towards the door. 
 
 " Neigh, let's ha' a look at ye fust, wench," cried Eli- 
 zabeth, staying her ; " fine fitthers may fine brids — ey 
 warrant me now yo'n getten these May gew-gaws on, 
 yo fancy yourself a queen in arnest." 
 
 u A queen of a day, mother, — a queen of a little 
 village festival, — nothing more," replied Alizon. "Oh, 
 if I were a queen in right earnest, or even a great lady — " 
 
 " Whot would yo do?" demanded Elizabeth Device, 
 sourly. 
 
 " I'd make you rich, mother, and build you a grand 
 house to five in," replied Alizon, " much grander than 
 Browsholme, or Downham, or Middleton."
 
 144 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Pity yo're nah a queen, then, Alizon," replied 
 Elizabeth, relaxing her harsh features into a -wintry 
 smile. 
 
 " Whot would ye do fo me, Alizon, if ye were a 
 queen ?" asked little Jennet, looking up at her. 
 
 "Why, let me see," was the reply; "I'd indulge 
 every one of your whims and wishes. You should 
 only need ask to have." 
 
 " Poh — poh — yo'd never content her," observed 
 Elizabeth, testily. 
 
 " It's nah your way to try an content me, mother, even 
 whon ye might," rejoined Jennet, who, if she loved few 
 people, loved her mother least of all, and never lost an 
 opportunity of testifying her dislike to her. 
 
 " Awt o'pontee, little wasp," cried her mother; 
 " theaw desarves nowt boh whot theaw dustna get often 
 enough — a good whipping." 
 
 " Yo hanna towd us whot yo'd do fo yurself if yo 
 war a great lady, Alizon?" interposed Susan. 
 
 "Oh, I haven't thought about myself/' replied the 
 other, laughing. 
 
 "Ey con tell ye what she'd do, Suky," replied little 
 Jennet, knowingly; "she'd marry Master Richard 
 Assheton, o' Middleton." 
 
 " Jennet !" exclaimed Alizon, blushing crimson. 
 
 " It's true," replied the little girl, " ye knoa ye 
 would, Alizon. Look at her feace," she added, with a 
 screaming laugh. 
 
 " Howd te tongue, little plague," cried Elizabeth,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 145 
 
 rapping her knuckles with her stick, * and behave 
 thyself, or theaw shanna go out to t' wake." 
 
 Jennet dealt her mother a bitterly vindictive look, 
 but she neither uttered cry, nor made remark. 
 
 In the momentary silence that ensued the blithe 
 jingling of bells was heard, accompanied by the merry 
 sound of tabor and pipe. 
 
 " Ah ! here come the rush-cart and the morris- 
 dancers," cried Alizon, rushing joyously to the win- 
 dow, which being left partly open admitted the scent 
 of the woodbine and eglantine by which it was over- 
 grown, as well as the humming sound of the bees by 
 which the flowers were invaded. 
 
 Almost immediately afterwards a frolic troop, like a 
 band of masquers, approached the cottage, and drew up 
 before it, while the jingling of bells ceasing at the same 
 moment, told that the rush-cart had stopped like- 
 wise Chief amongst the party was Robin Hood, clad 
 in a suit of Lincoln green, with a sheaf of arrows at 
 his back, a bugle dangling from his baldric, a bow in 
 his hand, and a broad-leaved green hat on his head, 
 looped up on one side, and decorated with a heron's fea- 
 ther. The hero of Sherwood was personated by a tall, 
 well-limbed fellow, to whom, being really a forester of 
 Bowland, the character was natural. Beside him 
 stood a very different figure, a jovial friar, with 
 shaven crown, rubicund cheeks, bull throat, and 
 mighty paunch, covered by a russet habit, and 
 girded in by a red cord, decorated with golden twist 
 
 TOL. I. L
 
 146 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 and tassel. He wore red hose and sandal shoon, and 
 carried in his girdle a wallet, to contain a roast capon, 
 a neat's tongue, or any other dainty given him. Friar 
 Tuck, for such he was, found his representative in 
 Ned Huddlestone, porter at the abbey, who, as the 
 largest and stoutest man in the village, was chosen 
 on that account to the part. Next to him came a 
 character of no little importance, and upon whom 
 much of the mirth of the pageant depended, and this 
 devolved upon the village cobbler, Jack Roby, a 
 dapper little fellow, who fitted the part of the Fool to 
 a nicety. With bauble in hand, and blue cox- 
 comb hood adorned with long white asses' ears on 
 head, with jerkin of green, striped with yellow; hose 
 of different colours, the left leg being yellow, with a red 
 pantoufle, and the right blue, terminated with a yellow 
 shoe ; with bells hung upon various parts of his motley 
 attire, so that he could not move without producing a 
 jingling sound, Jack Roby looked wonderful indeed; 
 and was constantly dancing about, and dealing a 
 blow with his bauble. Next came Will Scarlet, Stuke- 
 ley, and Little John, all proper men and tall, attired in 
 Lincoln green, like Robin Hood, and similarly equipped. 
 Like him, too, they were all foresters of Bowland, own- 
 ing service to the bow-bearer, Mr. Parker, of Brow- 
 sholme Hall, and the representative of Little John, 
 who was six feet and a half high, and stout in propor- 
 tion, was Lawrence Blackrod, Mr. Parker's head keeper. 
 After the foresters came Tom the Piper, a wandering
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 147 
 
 minstrel, habited for the occasion, in a blue doublet, 
 with sleeves of the same colour, turned up with yellow, 
 red hose, and brown buskins, red bonnet, and green 
 surcoat lined with yellow. Beside the piper was 
 another minstrel, similarly attired, and provided with 
 a tabor. Lastly came one of the main features of 
 the pageant, and which, together with the Fool, con- 
 tributed most materially to the amusement of the spec- 
 tators. This was the Hobby Horse. The hue of this 
 spirited charger was a pinkish white, and his housings 
 were of crimson cloth hanging to the ground, so as to 
 conceal the rider's real legs, though a pair of sham ones 
 dangled at the side. His bit was of gold, and his bridle 
 red morocco leather, while his rider was very sumptu- 
 ously arrayed in a purple mantle, bordered with gold, 
 with a rich cap of the same regal hue on his head, en- 
 circled with gold, and having a red feather stuck in it. 
 The hobby-horse had a plume of nodding feathers on 
 his head, and careered from side to side, now rearing 
 in front, now kicking behind, now prancing, now 
 gently ambling, and in short indulging in playful fancies 
 and vagaries, such as horse never indulged in be- 
 fore, to the imminent danger, it seemed, of his rider, 
 and to the huge delight of the beholders. Nor must it 
 be omitted, as it was matter of great wonderment to the 
 lookers-on, that by some legerdemain contrivance the 
 rider of the hobby-horse had a couple of daggers 
 stuck in his cheeks, while from his steed's bridle hung 
 a silver ladle, which he held now and then to the 
 L 2
 
 148 THE LANCASHIKE WITCHES. 
 
 crowd, and in which, when he did so, a few coins 
 were sure to rattle. After the hobby-horse came the 
 May-pole, not the tall pole so called and which was 
 already planted in the green, but a stout staff elevated 
 some six feet above the head of the bearer, with a coro- 
 nal of flowers atop, and four long garlands hanging 
 down, each held by a morris-dancer. Then came the 
 May Queen's gentleman-usher, a fantastic personage in 
 habiliments of blue guarded with white, and holding a 
 long willow wand in his hand. After the usher 
 came the main troop of morris-dancers — the men attired 
 in a graceful costume, which set off their light active 
 figures to advantage, consisting of a slashed jerkin of 
 black and white velvet with cut sleeves left open so as 
 to reveal the snowy shirt beneath,white hose, and shoes 
 of black Spanish leather with large roses. Ribands were 
 everywhere in their dresses — ribands and tinsel adorned 
 their caps, ribands crossed their hose, and ribands were 
 tied round their arms. In either hand they held a long 
 white handkerchief knotted with ribands. The female 
 morris-dancers were habited in white, decorated like 
 the dresses of the men ; they had ribands and wreaths 
 of flowers round their heads, bows in their hair, and in 
 their hands long white knotted kerchiefs. 
 
 In the rear of the performers in the pageant came 
 the rush- cart drawn by a team of eight stout horses, with 
 their manes and tails tied with ribands, their collars 
 fringed with red and yellow worsted, and hung with 
 bells, which jingled blithely at every movement, and
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 149 
 
 their heads decked with flowers. The cart itself con- 
 sisted of an enormous pile of rushes, banded and twisted 
 together, rising to a considerable height, and terminated 
 in a sharp ridge, like the point of a Gothic window. 
 The sides and top were decorated with flowers and 
 ribands, and there were eaves in front and at the back, 
 and on the space within them, which was covered 
 with white paper, were strings of gaudy flowers, em- 
 bedded in moss, amongst which were suspended 
 all the ornaments and finery that could be collected 
 for the occasion: to wit, flagons of silver, spoons, 
 ladles, chains, watches, and bracelets, so as to make a 
 brave and resplendent show. The wonder was how 
 articles of so much value would be trusted forth on 
 such an occasion; but nothing was ever lost. On the top 
 of the rush-cart, and bestriding its sharp ridges, sat half 
 a dozen men, habited somewhat like the morris-dancers, 
 in garments bedecked with tinsel and ribands, holding 
 garlands formed by hoops, decorated with flowers, and 
 attached to poles ornamented with silver paper, cut into 
 various figures and devices, and diminishing gradually in 
 size as they rose to a point, where they were crowned 
 with wreaths of daffodils. 
 
 A large crowd of rustics, of all ages, accompanied the 
 morris-dancers and rush-cart. 
 
 This gay troop having come to a halt, as described, 
 before the cottage, the gentleman-usher entered it, and 
 tapping against the inner door with his wand, took off 
 his cap as soon as it was opened, and bowing defcren-
 
 150 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 iially to the ground, said he was come to invite 
 the Queen of May, to join the pageant, and that it 
 only awaited her presence to proceed to the green. 
 Having delivered this speech in as good set phrase as 
 he could command, and being the parish clerk and 
 schoolmaster to boot, Sampson Harrop, by name, he 
 was somewhat more polished than the rest of the hinds ; 
 and having, moreover, received a gracious response 
 from the May Queen, who condescendingly replied that 
 she was quite ready to accompany him, he took her 
 hand, and led her ceremoniously to the door, whither 
 they were followed by the others. 
 
 Loud w r as the shout that greeted Alizon's appearance, 
 and tremendous was the pushing to obtain a sight of 
 her; and so much was she abashed by the enthusiastic 
 greeting, which was wholly unexpected on her part, 
 that she would have drawn back again, if it had 
 been possible ; but the usher led her forward, and 
 Robin Hood and the foresters having bent the knee 
 before her, the hobby-horse began to curvet anew among 
 the spectators, and tread on their toes, the fool to rap 
 their knuckles with his bauble, the piper to play, the 
 taborer to beat his tambourine, and the morris-dancers to 
 toss their kerchiefs over their heads. Thus the pageant 
 being put in motion, the rush-cart began to roll on, its 
 horses' bells jingling merrily, and the spectators cheer- 
 ing lustily.
 
 THE LANCASHIPwE WITCHES. 151 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE BLACK CAT AND THE WHITE DOVE. 
 
 Little Jennet watched her sister's triumphant depar- 
 ture with a look in which there was far more of envy 
 than sympathy, and when her mother took her hand to 
 lead her forth she would not go, but saying she did not 
 care for any such idle sights, went back sullenly to the 
 inner room. When there, however, she could not help 
 peeping through the window, and saw Susan and 
 Nancy join the revel rout, with feelings of increased 
 bitterness. 
 
 " Ey wish it would rain an spile their finery," 
 she said, sitting down on her stool, and plucking the 
 flowers from her basket in pieces. " An yet, why canna 
 ey enjoy such sects like other folk ? Truth is, ey've 
 nah heart for it." 
 
 (i Folks say," she continued, after a pause, " that 
 grandmother Demdike is a witch, an con do os she 
 pleases. Ey wonder if she made Alizon so protty. Nah, 
 that canna be, fo' Alizon's na favourite o' hern. If she 
 loves onny one it's me. Why dunna she make me good-
 
 152 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 looking, then? They say it's sinfu to be a witch — if 
 so, how cums grandmother Demdike to be one ? Boh 
 ey^n observed that those folk os caws her witch are afeard 
 on her, so it may be pure spite o' their pert." 
 
 As she thus mused, a great black cat belonging to 
 her mother, which had followed her into the room, 
 rubbed himself against her, putting up his back, and 
 purring loudly. 
 
 " Ah, Tib," said the little girl,, " how are ye, Tib? 
 Ey didna knoa ye were here. Lemme ask ye some 
 questions, Tib?" 
 
 The cat mewed, looked up, and fixed his great, 
 yellow eyes upon her. 
 
 " One 'ud think ye onderstud whot wos said to ye 
 Tib," pursued little Jennet. " We'n see whot ye say to 
 this! Shan ey ever be Queen o' May, like sister 
 Alizon?" 
 
 The cat mewed in a manner that the little girl found 
 no difficulty in interpreting the reply into " No." 
 
 " How's that, Tib?" cried Jennet, sharply. " If ey 
 thought ye meant it, ey'd beat ye, sirrah. Answer me 
 another question, ye saucy knave. "Who will be 
 luckiest, Alizon or me?" 
 
 This time the cat darted away from her, and made 
 two or three skirmishes round the room, as if gone 
 suddenly mad. 
 
 " Ey con may nowt o' that," observed Jennet, 
 laughing. 
 
 All at once the cat bounded upon the chimney board,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 153 
 
 over which was placed a sampler, worked with the 
 name " Alizon." 
 
 " Why Tib really seems to onderstond me, ey de- 
 clare," observed Jennet, uneasily. " Ey should like to 
 ask him a few more questions, if ey durst," she added, 
 regarding with some distrust the animal, who now re- 
 turned, and be^an rubbing against her as before. " Tib 
 —Tib!" 
 
 The cat looked up, and mewed. 
 
 11 Protty Tib — sweet Tib," continued the little girl, 
 coaxingly. " Whot mun one do to be a witch like 
 grandmother Demdike?" 
 
 The cat again dashed twice or thrice madly round 
 the room, and then stopping suddenly at the hearth, 
 sprang up the chimney. 
 
 " Ey'n frightened ye away ot onny rate," observed 
 Jennet, laughing. "And yet it may mean summot," 
 she added, reflecting a little, " fo ey'n heerd say os how 
 witches fly up chimleys o 1 broomsticks to attend their 
 sabbaths. Ey should like to fly i' that manner, an 
 change myself into another shape — onny shape boh 
 my own. Oh that ey could be os protty os Alizon ! 
 Ey dunna knoa whot ey'd nah do to be like her !" 
 
 Again the great black cat was beside her, rubbing 
 against her, and purring. The child was a good deal 
 startled, for she had not seen him return, and the door 
 was shut, though he mi^ht have come in through the 
 open window, only she had been looking that way all 
 the time, and had never noticed him. Strange !
 
 154 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 <e Tib," said the child, patting him, " thou hasna 
 answered my last question — how is one to become a 
 witch?" 
 
 As she made this inquiry the cat suddenly scratched 
 her in the arm, so that the blood came. The little girl 
 was a good deal frightened, as well as hurt, and with- 
 drawing her arm quickly, made a motion of striking 
 the animal. But starting backwards, erecting his tail, 
 and spitting, the cat assumed such a formidable appear- 
 ance, that she did not dare to touch him, and she then 
 perceived that some drops of blood stained her white 
 sleeve giving the spots a certain resemblance to the 
 letters J. and D., her own initials. 
 
 At this moment, when she was about to scream for 
 help, though she knew no one was in the house, all 
 having gone away with the May-day revellers a small 
 white dove flew in at the open window, and skimming 
 round the room, alighted near her. No sooner had the 
 cat caught sight of this beautiful bird, than instead 
 of preparing to pounce upon it, as might have been 
 expected, he instantly abandoned his fierce attitude, 
 and uttering a sort of howl, sprang up the chimney 
 as before. But the child scarcely observed this, her at- 
 tention being directed towards the bird, w T hose extreme 
 beauty delighted her. It seemed quite tame too, and 
 allowed itself to be touched, and even drawn towards 
 her, without an effort to escape. Never, surely, was 
 seen so beautiful a bird — with such milk white fea- 
 thers, such red legs, and such pretty yellow eyes,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 155 
 
 with crimson circles round them! So thought the 
 little girl, as she gazed at it, and pressed it to her 
 bosom. In doing this, gentle and good thoughts 
 came upon her, and she reflected what a nice pre- 
 sent this pretty bird would make to her sister Alizon 
 on her return from the merry-making, and how pleased 
 she should feel to giVe it to her. And then she thought 
 of Alizon's constant kindness to her, and half reproached 
 herself with the poor return she made for it, wondering 
 she could entertain any feelings of envy towards one so 
 good and amiable. All this while the dove nestled in 
 her bosom. 
 
 While thus pondering, the little girl felt an unaccount- 
 able drowsiness steal over her, and presently afterwards 
 dropped asleep, when she had a very strange dream. It 
 seemed to her that there was a contest going on between 
 two spirits, a good one and a bad, — the bad one being re- 
 presented by the great black cat, and the good spirit 
 by the white dove. What they were striving about 
 she could not exactly tell, but she felt that the conflict 
 had some relation to herself. The dove at first appeared 
 to have but a poor chance against the claws of its 
 sable adversary, but the sharp talons of the latter made 
 no impression upon the white plumage of the bird, 
 which now shone like silver armour, and in the end the 
 cat fled, yelling as it darted off — " Thou art victorious 
 now, but her soul shall yet be mine." 
 
 Something awakened the little sleeper at the same 
 moment, and she felt very much terrified at her dream,
 
 156 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 as she could not help thinking her own soul might 
 be the one in jeopardy, and her first impulse was to 
 see whether the white dove was safe. Yes, there it 
 was still nestling in her bosom, with its head under its 
 wing. 
 
 Just then she was startled at hearing her own name 
 pronounced by a hoarse voice, and looking up she 
 beheld a tall young man standing at the window. He 
 had a somewhat gipsy look, having a dark olive com- 
 plexion, and fine black eyes, though set strangely 
 in his head, like those of Jennet and her mother, 
 coal black hair, and very prominent features, of a 
 sullen and almost savage cast. His figure was gaunt 
 but very muscular, his arms being extremely long, and 
 his hands unusually large and bony — personal advan- 
 tages which made him a formidable antagonist in any 
 rustic encounter, and in such he was frequently en- 
 gaged, being of a very irascible temper, and turbulent 
 disposition. He was clad in a holiday suit of dark green 
 serge, which fitted him well, and carried a nosegay in 
 one hand and a stout blackthorn cudgel in the other. 
 This young man was James Device, son of Elizabeth, 
 and some four or five years older than Alizon. He did 
 not live with his mother in Whalley, but in Pendle 
 Forest, near his old relative, Mother Demdike, and had 
 come over that morning to attend the wake. 
 
 " Whot are ye abowt, Jennet ?" inquired James 
 Device, in tones naturally hoarse and deep, and 
 which he took as little pains to soften, as he did to
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 157 
 
 polish his manners, which were more than ordinarily 
 rude and churlish. 
 
 " Whot are ye abowt, ey sey, wench ?" he re- 
 peated, " Why dunna ye go to t' green to see the morris- 
 dancers foot it round t' May-pow ? Cum along wi* me." 
 
 " Ey dunna want to go, Jem," replied the little girl. 
 
 " Boh yo shan go, ey tell ye," rejoined her brother; 
 "ye shan see your sister dawnce. Ye con sit a whoam 
 onny day ; boh May Day cums ony wonst a year, an 
 Alizon winna be Queen twice i' her life. Soh cum 
 along wi' me, dereckly, or ey'n may ye." 
 
 " Ey should like to see Alizon dance, an so ey 
 win go wi' ye, Jem," replied Jennet, getting up, " other- 
 wise your orders shouldna may me stir, ey con tell ye." 
 
 As she came out, she found her brother whistling 
 the blithe air of " Green Sleeves," cutting strange capers, 
 in imitation of the morris-dancers, and whirling his 
 cudgel over his head instead of a kerchief. The gaiety 
 of the day seemed infectious, and to have seized even 
 him. People stared to see Black Jem, or Surly Jem, as he 
 was indifferently called, so joyous, and wondered what it 
 could mean. He then fell to sino-ino- a snatch of a local 
 
 o o 
 
 ballad at that time in voime in the neighbourhood : — 
 
 " If thou \xV nali my secret tell, 
 
 Ne bruit abroad i' Whalley parish, 
 An swear to keep my counsel well, 
 Ey win declare my day of marriage." 
 
 " Cum along, lass," he cried, stopping suddenly 
 
 in his song, and snatching his sister's hand. " What 
 
 han ye getten there, lapped up i' your kirtlc, eh?"
 
 158 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " A white dove," replied Jennet, determined not to 
 tell him any thing about her strange dream. 
 
 " A white dove !" echoed Jem. " Gi' it me, an ey'n 
 wring its neck, an get it roasted for supper." 
 
 " Ye shan do nah such thing, Jem," replied Jennet. 
 " Ey mean to gi' it to Alizon." 
 
 "Weel, weel, that's reet," rejoined Jem, blandly, 
 " it'll may a protty offering. Let's look at it." 
 
 " Nah, nah, 5 ' said Jennet, pressing the bird gently 
 to her bosom, "neaw one shan see it efore Alizon." 
 
 " Cum along then," cried Jem, rather testily, and 
 mending his pace, " or we'st be too late ib' t' 
 round. Whoy yo'n scratted yourself," he added, no- 
 ticing the red spots on her sleeve. 
 
 "Han ey?" she rejoined, evasively. "Oh now ey 
 rekilect it wos Tib did it." 
 
 "Tib !" echoed Jem, gravely, and glancing uneasily 
 at the marks. 
 
 Meanwhile, on quitting the cottage, the May Day 
 revellers had proceeded slowly towards the green, in- 
 creasing the number of their followers at each little 
 tenement they passed, and being welcomed everywhere 
 with shouts and cheers. The hobby-horse curvetted 
 and capered ; the Fool fleered at the girls, and flouted 
 the men, jesting with every one, and when fail- 
 ing in a point rapping the knuckles of his auditors; 
 Friar Tuck chucked the pretty girls under the chin, 
 in defiance of their sweethearts, and stole a kiss from 
 every buxom dame that stood in his way, and then
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 159 
 
 snapped his fingers, or made a broad grimace at the 
 husband ; the piper played, and the taborer rattled his 
 tambourine; the morris-dancers tossed their kerchiefs 
 aloft ; and the bells of the rush-cart jingled merrily; 
 the men on the top being on a level with the roofs of 
 the cottages, and the summits of the haystacks they 
 passed, but in spite of their exalted position jesting with 
 the crowd below. But in spite of these multiplied attrac- 
 tions, and in spite of the gambols of Fool and Horse, 
 though the latter elicited prodigious laughter, the main 
 attention was fixed on the May Queen, who tripped 
 lightly along by the side of her faithful squire, Robin 
 Hood, followed by the three bold foresters of Sher- 
 wood, and her usher. 
 
 In this way they reached the green, where already a , 
 large crowd was collected to see them, and where in 
 the midst of it, and above the heads of the assemblage, 
 rose the lofty May-pole, with all its flowery garlands glit- 
 tering in the sunshine, and its ribands fluttering 
 in the breeze. Pleasant was it to see those cheerful 
 groups, composed of happy rustics, youths in their holi- 
 day attire, and maidens neatly habited too, and fresh and 
 bright as the day itself. Summer sunshine sparkled in 
 their eyes, and weather and circumstance as well as genial 
 natures disposed them to enjoyment. Every lass above 
 eighteen had her sweetheart, and old couples nodded 
 and smiled at each other when any tender speech, 
 broadly conveyed but tenderly conceived, reached their 
 ears, and said it recalled the days of their youth. Plea-
 
 160 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 sant was it to hear sucli honest laughter, and such good 
 homely jests. 
 
 Laugh on, my merry lads, you are made of good 
 old English stuff, loyal to church and king, and 
 while you, and such as you, last, our land will be in 
 no danger from foreign foe ! Laugh on, and praise 
 your sweethearts how you will. Laugh on, and bless- 
 ings on your honest hearts ! 
 
 The frolic train had just reached the precincts of the 
 green, when the usher waving his wand aloft, called 
 a momentary halt, announcing that Sir Ralph Assheton 
 and the gentry were coming forth from the Abbey gate 
 to meet them.
 
 TI1E LANCASHIltE WITCHES. 161 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE ASSHETONS. 
 
 Between Sir Ralph Asslieton of the Abbey and 
 the inhabitants of Whalley, many of whom were his 
 tenants, he being joint lord of the manor with John 
 Braddyll of Portfield, the best possible feeling subsisted ; 
 for though somewhat austere in manner, and tinctured 
 with Puritanism, the worthy knight was sufficiently 
 shrewd, or more correctly speaking, sufficiently liberal- 
 minded, to be tolerant of the opinions of others, and being 
 moreover sincere in his own religious views, no man could 
 call him in question for them ; besides which, he was very 
 hospitable to his friends, very bountiful to the poor, a 
 good landlord, and a humane man. His very aus- 
 terity of manner, tempered by stately courtesy, added 
 to the respect he inspired, especially as he could now and 
 then relax into gaiety, and, when he did so, his smile 
 was accounted singularly sweet. But in general he was 
 grave and formal; stiff in attire, and stiff in gait; cold 
 and punctilious in manner, precise in speech, and ex- 
 acting in due respect from both high and low, which 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 was seldom, if ever, refused him. Amongst Sir Ralph's 
 other good qualities, for such it was esteemed by his 
 friends and retainers, and they were, of course, the best 
 judges, was a strong love of the chase, and perhaps he 
 indulged a little too freely in the sports of the field, for 
 a gentleman of a character so staid and decorous; but 
 his popularity was far from being diminished by the 
 circumstance ; neither did he suffer the rude and bois- 
 terous companionship into which he was brought 
 by indulgence in this his favourite pursuit in 
 any way to affect him. Though still young, Sir 
 Ralph was prematurely gray, and this combined 
 with the sad severity of his aspect, gave him the 
 air of one considerably past the middle term of life, 
 though this appearance was contradicted again by 
 the youthful fire of his eagle eye. His features 
 were handsome and strongly marked, and he wore 
 a pointed beard and moustaches, with a shaved 
 cheek. Sir Ralph Assheton had married twice, his 
 first wife being a daughter of Sir James Bellingham, 
 of Levens, in Northumberland, by whom he had two 
 children ; while his second choice fell upon Eleanor 
 Shuttleworth, the lovely and well-endowed heiress 
 of Gawthorpe, to whom he had been recently 
 united. In his attire, even when habited for the chase 
 or a merry-making, like the present, the Knight of 
 Whalley affected a sombre colour, and ordinarily wore 
 a quilted doublet of black silk, immense trunk hose of 
 the same material, stiffened with whalebone, puffed
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 1G3 
 
 out well-wadded sleeves, falling bands, for lie eschewed 
 the ruff as savouring of vanity, boots of black flexible 
 leather, ascending to the hose, and armed with spurs 
 with gigantic rowels, a round-crowned small-brimmed 
 black hat, with an ostrich feather placed in the side and 
 hanging over the top, a long rapier on his hip, and a 
 dagger in his girdle. This buckram attire, it will be 
 easily conceived, contributed no little to the natural stiff- 
 ness of his thin tall figure. 
 
 Sir Ralph Assheton was great grandson of Richard 
 Assheton, who flourished in the time of Abbot Paslcw , 
 and who, in conjunction with John Braddyll, fourteen 
 years after the unfortunate prelate's attainder and the 
 dissolution of the monastery, had purchased the abbey 
 and domains of Whalley from the Crown, subsequently 
 to which, a division of the property so granted took 
 place between them, the abbey and part of the manor 
 falling to the share of Richard Assheton, whose descend- 
 ants had now, for three generations, made it their resi- 
 dence. Thus the whole of Whalley belonged to the 
 families of Assheton and Braddyll, which had inter- 
 married ; the latter, as has been stated, dwelling at 
 Portfield, a fine old seat in the neighbourhood. 
 
 A very different person from Sir Ralph was his 
 cousin Nicholas Assheton, of Downham, who, except 
 as regards his Puritanism, might be considered a type 
 of the Lancashire squire of the day. A precisian in 
 religious notions, and constant in attendance at church 
 and lecture, he put no sort of restraint upon himself, but 
 M 2
 
 164 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 mixed up fox-hunting, otter-hunting, shooting at the 
 mark, and perhaps shooting with the long-bow, 
 foot-racing, horse-racing, and, in fact, every other 
 kind of country diversion, not forgetting tippling, 
 cards, and dicing, with daily devotion, discourses, 
 and psalm-singing, in the oddest way imaginable. 
 A thorough sportsman was Squire Nicholas Asshe- 
 ton, well versed in all the arts and mysteries of hawk- 
 ing and hunting. Not a man in the county could 
 ride harder, hunt deer, unkennel fox, unearth bad- 
 ger, or spear otter, better than he. And then, as to 
 tippling, he would sit you a whole afternoon at the 
 alehouse, and be the merriest man there, and drink 
 a bout with every farmer present. And if the parson 
 chanced to be out of hearing, he would never make 
 a mouth at a round oath, nor choose a second expression 
 when the first would serve his turn. Then, who so 
 constant at church or lecture as Squire Nicholas — 
 though he did snore sometimes during the long ser- 
 mons of his cousin, the Rector of Middleton. A great 
 man was he at all weddings, christenings, churchings, 
 and funerals, and never neglected his bottle at these 
 ceremonies, nor any sport in doors or out of doors, 
 meanwhile. In short, such a roystering Puritan was 
 never known. A good-looking young man was the 
 Squire of Downham, possessed of a very athletic 
 frame, and a most vigorous constitution, which 
 helped him, together with the prodigious exercise he 
 took, through any excess. He had a sanguine com-
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCIIES. 165 
 
 plexion, with a broad, good-natured visage, which he 
 could lengthen at will in a surprising manner. His hair 
 was cropped close to his head, and the razor did daily 
 duty over his cheek and chin, giving him the roundhead 
 look, some years later, characteristic of the Puritanical 
 party. Nicholas had taken to wife Dorothy, daughter 
 of Richard Greenacrcs of Worst on, and was most for- 
 tunate in his choice, which is more than can be said for 
 his lady, for I cannot uphold the squire as a model of 
 conjugal fidelity. Report affirmed that he loved more 
 than one pretty girl under the rose. Squire Nicholas was 
 not particular as to the quality or make of his clothes, 
 provided they wore well and protected him against 
 the weather, and was generally to be seen in doublet 
 and hose of stout fustian, which had seen some service, 
 with a broad-leaved hat, originally green, but of late 
 bleached to a much lighter colour; but he was clad 
 on this particular occasion in ash-coloured habiliments 
 fresh from the tailor's hands, with buff boots drawn up 
 to the knee, and a new round hat from York with a green 
 feather in it. His legs were slightly embowed, and he 
 bore himself like a man rarely out of the saddle. 
 
 Downham, the residence of the squire, was a fine old 
 house, very charmingly situated to the north of Pendle 
 Hill, of which it commanded a magnificent view, and a 
 few miles from Clithcro. The grounds about it were well- 
 wooded and beautifully broken and diversified, watered 
 by the Ribble, and opening upon the lovely and exten- 
 sive valley deriving its name from that stream. The 
 house was in good order and well maintained, and the
 
 166 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 stables plentifully furnished with horses, while the hall 
 was adorned with various trophies and implements of the 
 chase ; but as I propose paying its owner a visit, I shall 
 defer any further description of the place till an oppor- 
 tunity arrives for examining it in detail. 
 
 A third cousin of Sir Ralph's, though in the second de- 
 gree, likewise present on the May Day in question, was 
 the Reverend Abdias Assheton, Rector of Middleton, a 
 very worthy man, who though differing from his kins- 
 men upon some religious points, and not altogether ap- 
 proving of the conduct of one of them, was on good 
 terms with both. The Rector of Middleton was portly 
 and middle-aged, fond of ease and reading, and by no 
 means indifferent to the good things of life. He was 
 unmarried, and passed much of his time at Middleton 
 Hall, the seat of his near relative Sir Richard Assheton, 
 to whose family he was greatly attached, and whose 
 residence closely adjoined the rectory. 
 
 A fourth cousin, also present, was young Richard 
 Assheton, of Middleton, eldest son and heir of the owner 
 of that estate. Possessed of all the good qualities largely 
 distributed among his kinsmen, with none of their 
 drawbacks, this young man was as tolerant and 
 bountiful as Sir Ralph, without his austerity and 
 sectarianism ; as keen a sportsman and as bold a 
 rider as Nicholas, without his propensities to excess; 
 as studious, at times, and as well read as Abdias, 
 without his laziness and self-indulgence ; and as courtly 
 and well-bred as his father, Sir Richard, who was 
 esteemed one of the most perfect gentlemen in the
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 167 
 
 county, without his haughtiness. Then he was the 
 handsomest of his race, though the Asshetons were 
 accounted the handsomest family in Lancashire, and 
 no one minded yielding the palm to young Richard, 
 even if it could be contested, he was so modest 
 and unassuming. At this time, Richard Asshcton 
 was about two and twenty, tall, gracefully and slightly 
 formed, but possessed of such remarkable vigour, that 
 even his cousin Nicholas could scarcely compete with 
 him in athletic exercises. His features were fine 
 and regular, with an almost Phrygian precision of out- 
 line ; his hair was of a dark brown, and fell in clus- 
 tering curls over his brow and neck; and his complexion 
 was fresh and blooming, and set off by a slight beard 
 and moustache, carefully trimmed and pointed. His 
 dress consisted of a dark green doublet, with wide vel- 
 vet hose, embroidered and fringed, descending nearly to 
 the knee, where they were tied with points and ribands, 
 met by dark stockings, and terminated by red velvet 
 shoes with roses in them. A white feather adorned his 
 black broad-leaved hat, and he had a rapier by his side. 
 Amongst Sir Ralph Assheton's guests were Richard 
 Greenacres, of Worston, Nicholas Assheton's father-in- 
 law; Richard Sherborne, of Dunnow, near Sladeburne, 
 who had married Dorothy, Nicholas's sister; Mistress 
 Robinson, of Raydale House, aunt to the knight and 
 the squire, and two of her sons, both stout youths, 
 with John Braddyll and his wife, of Portfield. Besides 
 these, there was Master Roger No well, a justice of the
 
 168 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 peace in the county, and a very active and busy one 
 too, who had been invited for an especial purpose, 
 to be explained hereafter. Head of an ancient Lanca- 
 shire family, residing at Read, a fine old hall, some little 
 distance from Whalley, Roger Nowell, though a wor- 
 thy, well-meaning man, dealt hard measure from the 
 bench, and seldom tempered justice with mercy. He 
 was sharp-featured, dry, and sarcastic, and being ad- 
 verse to country sports, his presence on the occasion 
 was the only thing likely to impose restraint on the 
 revellers. Other guests there were, but none of parti- 
 cular note. 
 
 The ladies of the party consisted of Lady Assheton, 
 Mistress Nicholas Assheton, of Downham, Dorothy 
 Assheton, of Middleton, sister to Richard, a lovely girl 
 of eighteen, with light fleecy hair, summer blue eyes, 
 and a complexion of exquisite purity, Mistress Sherborne, 
 of Dunnow, Mistress Robinson, of Raydale, and Mistress 
 Braddyll, of Portfield, before-mentioned, together with 
 the wives and daughters of some others of the neigh- 
 bouring gentry; most noticeable amongst whom was 
 Mistress Alice Nutter, of Rough Lee, in Pendle Forest, 
 a widow lady, and a relative of the Assheton family. 
 
 Mistress Nutter might be a year or two turned of 
 forty, but she still retained a very fine figure, and much 
 beauty of feature, though of a cold and disagreeable 
 cast. She was dressed in mourning, though her husband 
 had been dead several years, and her rich dark habili- 
 ments well became her pale complexion and raven hair.
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 1G9 
 
 A proud poor gentleman was Richard Nutter, her late 
 husband, and his scanty means not enabling him to keep 
 up as large an establishment as he desired, or to be as hos- 
 pitable as his nature prompted, his temper became soured, 
 and he visited his ill humours upon his wife, who, de- 
 votedly attached to him, to all outward appearance at 
 least, never resented his ill treatment. All at once, and 
 without any previous symptoms of ailment, or apparent 
 cause, unless it might be over-fatigue in hunting the day 
 before, Richard Nutter was seized with a strange and 
 violent illness, which after three or four days of acute 
 suffering, brought him to the grave. During his illness 
 he was constantly and zealously tended by his wife, but 
 he displayed great aversion to her, declaring himself 
 bewitched, and that an old woman was ever in the 
 corner of his room mumbling wicked enchantments 
 against him. But as no such old woman could be 
 seen, these assertions were treated as delirious ravings. 
 They were not, however, forgotten after his death, and 
 some people said that he had certainly been bewitched, 
 and that a waxen image made in his likeness, and stuck 
 full of pins, had been picked up in his chamber by 
 Mistress Alice and cast into the fire, and as soon as 
 it melted he had expired. Such tales only obtained 
 credence with the common folk ; but as Pendle Forest 
 was a sort of weird region, many reputed witches 
 dwelling in it, they were the more readily believed, 
 even by those who acquitted Mistress Nutter of all share 
 in the dark transaction.
 
 170 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 Mistress Nutter gave the best proof that she respected 
 her husband's memory by not marrying again, and she 
 continued to lead a very secluded life at Rough Lee, a 
 lonesome house in the heart of the forest. She 
 lived quite by herself, for she had no children, her 
 only daughter having perished somewhat strangely 
 when quite an infant. Though a relative of the 
 Asshetons, she kept up little intimacy with them, and 
 it was a matter of surprise to all that she had been 
 drawn from her seclusion to attend the present revel. 
 Her motive, however, in visiting the Abbey, was to 
 obtain the assistance of Sir Ralph Assheton, in settling 
 a dispute between her and Roger No well, relative to the 
 boundary line of part of their properties which came 
 together ; and this was the reason why the magistrate had 
 been invited to Whalley . After hearing both sides of the 
 question, and examining plans of the estates, which he 
 knew to be accurate, Sir Ralph, who had been appointed 
 umpire, pronounced a decision in favour of Roger Nowell, 
 but Mistress Nutter refusing to abide by it, the settle- 
 ment of the matter was postponed till the day but one 
 following, between which time the landmarks were to be 
 investigated by a certain little lawyer named Potts, who 
 attended on behalf of Roger Nowell; together with 
 Nicholas and Richard Assheton, on behalf of Mis- 
 tress Nutter. Upon their evidence it was agreed by 
 both parties that Sir Ralph should pronounce a final 
 decision, to be accepted by them, and to that effect 
 they signed an agreement. The three persons appointed
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 171 
 
 to the investigation settled to start for Rough Lee early 
 on the following morning. 
 
 A word as to Master Thomas Potts. This worthy 
 was an attorney from London, who had officiated as clerk 
 of the court at the assizes at Lancaster, where his quick- 
 ness had so much pleased Roger Nowell, that he sent 
 for him to Read to manage this particular business. 
 A sharp-witted fellow was Potts, and versed in all 
 the quirks and tricks of a very subtle profession — 
 not over-scrupulous, provided a client would pay 
 well; prepared to resort to any expedient to gain his 
 object, and quite conversant enough with both practice 
 and precedent to keep himself straight. A bustling, 
 consequential little personage was he, moreover; very 
 fond of delivering an opinion, even when unasked, 
 and of a meddling, make-mischief turn, constantly 
 setting men by the ears. A suit of rusty black, a 
 parchment-coloured skin, small wizen features, a turn-up 
 nose, scant eyebrows, and a great yellow forehead con- 
 stituted his external man. He partook of the hospitality 
 at the Abbey, but had his quarters at the Dragon. He 
 it was who counselled Roger Nowell to abide by the 
 decision of Sir Ralph, confidently assuring him that he 
 must carry his point. 
 
 This dispute was not, however, the only one the 
 knight had to adjust, or in which Master Potts 
 was concerned. A claim had recently been made 
 by a certain Sir Thomas Metcalfe, of Xappay, in 
 Wensleydale, near Bainbridge, to the house and manor
 
 172 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 of Raydale, belonging to his neighbour, John Ro- 
 binson, whose lady, as has been shown, was a relative 
 of the Asshetons. Robinson himself had gone to 
 London to obtain advice on the subject, while Sir 
 Thomas Metcalfe, who was a man of violent disposition, 
 had threatened to take forcible possession of Raydale, 
 if it were not delivered to him without delay, and to 
 eject the Robinson family. Having consulted Potts, 
 however, on the subject, whom he had met at Read, the 
 latter strongly dissuaded him from the course, and re- 
 commended him to call to his aid the strong arm of the 
 law; but this he rejected, though he ultimately agreed 
 to refer the matter to Sir Ralph Assheton, and for this 
 purpose he had come over to Whalley, and was at 
 present a guest at the vicarage. Thus it will be seen 
 that Sir Ralph Assheton had his hands full, while the 
 little London lawyer, Master Potts, was tolerably well 
 occupied. Besides Sir Thomas Metcalfe, Sir Richard 
 Molyneux, and Mr. Parker, of Browsholme, were guests 
 of Dr. Ormerod at the vicarage. 
 
 Such was the large company assembled to witness the 
 May Day revels at Whalley, and if harmonious feel- 
 ings did not exist amongst all of them, little out- 
 ward manifestation was made of enmity. The dresses 
 and appointments of the pageant having been pro- 
 vided by Sir Ralph Assheton, who Puritan as he was, 
 encouraged all harmless country pastimes, it was deemed 
 necessary to pay him every respect, even if no other 
 feeling would have prompted the attention, and there-
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 173 
 
 fore the troop had stopped on seeing him and his 
 guests issue from the Abbey gate. At pretty nearly the 
 same time Doctor Ormerod and his party came from 
 the vicaracre towards the crreen. 
 
 No order of march was observed, but Sir Ralph and 
 his lady, with two of his children by the former mar- 
 riage, walked first. Then came some of the other 
 ladies, with the Rector of Middleton, John Braddyll, 
 and the two sons of Mistress Robinson. Next came 
 Mistress Nutter, Roo-er Nowell and Potts walking after 
 her, eyeing her maliciously, as her proud figure 
 swept on before them. Even if she saw their looks or 
 overheard their jeers, she did not deign to notice them. 
 Lastly came young Richard Assheton, of Middleton, 
 and Squire Nicholas, both in high spirits and laughing 
 and chatting together. 
 
 " A brave day for the morris-dancers, cousin Dick," 
 observed Nicholas Assheton, as they approached the 
 green, " and plenty of folk to witness the sport. Half 
 my lads from Downham are here, and I see a good 
 many of your Middleton chaps among them. How arc 
 you, Farmer Tetlow?" he added to a stout, hale-looking 
 man, with a blooming country woman by his side, — 
 "brought your pretty young wife to the rush-bearing, 
 I see." 
 
 " Yeigh, squoire," rejoined the farmer, " an mightily 
 pleased hoo be wi' it, too." 
 
 " Happy to hear it, Master Tetlow/' replied Nicho- 
 las, " she'll be better pleased before the day's over, I'll
 
 174 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 warrant her. I'll dance a round with her myself in 
 the hall at night." 
 
 " Theere now, Meg, whoy dunna ye may t' squoire a 
 curtsey, wench, an thonk him," said Tetlow, nudging 
 his pretty wife, who had turned away, rather embar- 
 rassed by the free gaze of the squire. Nicholas, how- 
 ever, did not wait for the curtsey, but went away, laugh- 
 ing, to overtake Richard Assheton, who had walked on. 
 
 " Ah, here's Frank Garside," he continued, espying 
 another rustic acquaintance. " Halloa, Frank, I'll 
 come over one day next week, and try for a fox 
 in Easington Woods. We missed the last, you 
 know. Tom Brockholes, are you here? Just ridden 
 over from Sladeburn, eh ? When is that shooting 
 match at the bodkin to come ofl] eh ? Mind, it is 
 to be at twenty- two roods' distance. Ride over to 
 Downham on Thursday next, Tom. We're to have 
 a foot-race, and I'll show you good sport, and at night 
 we'll have a lusty drinking bout at the alehouse. On 
 Friday, we'll take out the great nets, and try for 
 salmon in the Ribble. I took some fine fish on Mon- 
 day — one salmon of ten pounds' weight, the largest I've 
 got the whole season. — I brought it with me to-day 
 to the Abbey. There's an otter in the river, and I 
 won't hunt him till you come, Tom. I shall see you on 
 Thursday, eh ?" 
 
 Receiving an answer in the affirmative, squire Nicho- 
 las walked on, nodding right and left, jesting with the 
 farmers, and ogling their pretty wives and daughters.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 175 
 
 " I tell you what, cousin Dick/' he said, calling after 
 Richard Assheton, who had got in advance of him, " I'll 
 match ray dim nag against your gray gelding for twenty 
 pieces, that I reach the boundary line of the Hough Lee 
 lands before you to-morrow. What, you won't have 
 it ? You know I shall beat you — ha ! ha ! Well, we'll 
 try the speed of the two tits the first day we hunt the 
 stag in Bowland Forest. Odds my life !" he cried, sud- 
 denly altering his deportment and lengthening his 
 visage, fl if there isn't our parson here. Stay with me, 
 cousin Dick, stay with me. Give you good day, 
 worthy Mr. Dewhurst," he added, taking off his hat 
 to the divine, who respectfully returned his salutation, 
 " I did not look to see your reverence here, taking- 
 part in these vanities and idle sports. I propose to 
 call on you on Saturday, and pass an hour in serious 
 discourse. I would call to-morrow, but I have to 
 ride over to Pendle on business. Tarry a moment 
 for me, I pray you, good cousin Richard. I fear, reve- 
 rend sir, that you will see much here that will scan- 
 dalise you; much lightness and indecorum. Plca- 
 santcr far would it be to me to see a large congrega- 
 tion of the elders nocking together to a godly meeting, 
 than crowds assembled for such a profane purpose. 
 Another moment, Richard. IMy cousin is a young 
 man, Mr. Dewhurst, and wishes to join the revel. 
 But we must make allowances, worthy and reverend 
 sir, until the world shall improve. An excellent dis- 
 course you gave us, good sir, on Sunday: viiLRom. 12
 
 176 THE LANCASHIPwE WITCHES. 
 
 and 13 verses: it is graven upon my memory, but I have 
 made a note of it in my diary. I come to you, cousin, 
 I come. I pray you walk on to the abbey, good Mr. 
 Dewhurst, where you will be right welcome, and call for 
 any refreshment you may desire — a glass of good sack, 
 and a slice of venison pasty, on which we have just 
 dined — and there is some famous old ale, which I 
 would commend to you, but that I know you care 
 not, any more than myself, for creature comforts. Fare- 
 well, reverend sir. I will join you ere long, for these 
 scenes have little attraction for me. But I must take 
 care that my young cousin falleth not into harm." 
 
 And as the divine took his way to the Abbey, he 
 added, laughingly, to Richard, — " A good riddance, 
 Dick. I would not have the old fellow play the spy upon 
 us. — Ah, Giles Mercer," he added, stopping again, — 
 " and Jeff Rushton — well met, lads ! what, are you come 
 to the wake? I shall be at John Lawe's in the evening, 
 and we'll have a glass together — John brews sack 
 rarely, and spareth not the eggs." 
 
 " Boh yo'n be at th' dauncing at th' Abbey, squoire," 
 said one of the farmers. 
 
 " Curse the dancing !" cried Nicholas, — " I hope the 
 parson didn't hear me," he added, turning round quickly. 
 " Well, well, I'll come down when the dancing's over, 
 and we'll make a night of it." And he ran on to overtake 
 Richard Assheton. 
 
 By this time the respective parties from the Abbey 
 and the Vicarage having united, they walked on toge-
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 177 
 
 tlier, Sir Ralph Assheton after courteously exchanging 
 salutations with Dr. Ormerod's guests, still keeping a 
 little in advance of the company. Sir Thomas Metcalfe 
 comported himself with more than his wonted haughti- 
 ness, and bowed so superciliously to Mistress Robinson 
 that her two sons glanced angrily at each other, as if 
 in doubt whether they should not instantly resent the 
 affront. Observing this, as well as what had previously 
 taken place, Nicholas Assheton stepped quickly up to 
 thorn, and said, 
 
 "Keep quiet, lads. Leave this dunghill cock to me, 
 and I'll lower his crest." 
 
 With this he pushed forward, and elbowing Sir 
 Thomas rudely out of the way, turned round, and 
 instead of apologising, eyed him coolly and con- 
 temptuously from head to foot. 
 
 " Are you drunk, sir, that you forget your manners?" 
 asked Sir Thomas, laying his hand upon his sword. 
 
 " Not so drunk but that I know how to conduct my- 
 self like a gentleman, Sir Thomas," rejoined Nicholas, 
 " which is more than can be said for a certain person of 
 my acquaintance, who, for aught I know, has only taken 
 his morning pint." 
 
 " You wish to pick a quarrel with me, Master Nicho- 
 las Assheton, I perceive," said Sir Thomas, stepping 
 close up to him, " and I will not disappoint you. You 
 shall render me good reason for this affront before I 
 leave Whalley." 
 
 " "When and where you please, Sir Thomas," rejoined 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 ] 78 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 Nicholas, laughing. " At any hour, and at any weapon, 
 I am your man." 
 
 At this moment, Master Potts, who had scented a 
 quarrel afar, and who would have liked it well enough 
 if its prosecution had not run counter to his own 
 interests, quitted Roger Nowell, and ran back to Met- 
 calfe, and plucking him by the sleeve, said, in a low 
 voice, 
 
 u This is not the way to obtain quiet possession of 
 Raydale House, Sir Thomas. Master Nicholas Asshe- 
 ton,"" he added, turning to him, " I must entreat you, 
 my good sir, to be moderate. Gentlemen, both, I cau- 
 tion you that I have my eye upon you. You well know 
 there is a magistrate here, my singular good friend and 
 honoured client, Master Roger Nowell, and if you 
 pursue this quarrel further, I shall hold it my duty 
 to have you bound over by that worthy gentleman in 
 sufficient securities to keep the peace towards our sove- 
 reign lord the king and all his lieges, and particularly 
 towards each other. You understand me, gentlemen?" 
 
 "Perfectly," replied Nicholas. "I drink at John 
 Lawe's to-night, Sir Thomas." 
 
 So saying, he walked away. Metcalfe would have fol- 
 lowed him, but was withheld by Potts. 
 
 *' Let him go, Sir Thomas," said the little man of 
 law; " let him go. Once master of Ray dale, you can 
 do as you please. Leave the settlement of the matter 
 to me. I'll just whisper a word in Sir Ralph Assheton's 
 ear, and you'll hear no more of it." 
 
 " Fire and fury ! " growled Sir Thomas. " I like not
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 179 
 
 this mode of settling a quarrel; and unless this hot- 
 headed psalm-singing puritan apologises, I shall as- 
 suredly cut his throat." 
 
 " Or he yours, good Sir Thomas," rejoined Potts. 
 " Better sit in Raydale Hall, than lie in the abbey 
 vaults." 
 
 "Well, we'll talk over the matter, Master Potts," 
 replied the knight. 
 
 " A nice morning's work I've made of it," mused 
 Nicholas, as he walked along ; ' ' here I have a dance 
 with a farmer's pretty wife, a discourse with a parson, a 
 drinking-bout with a couple of clowns, and a duello with 
 a blustering knight on my hands. Quite enough, o' my 
 conscience ! but I must get through it the best way I can. 
 And now, hey for the May-pole and the morris-dancers !" 
 
 Nicholas just got up in time to witness the presenta- 
 tion of the May Queen to Sir Ralph Assheton and his 
 lady, and like every one else he was greatly struck by 
 her extreme beauty and natural grace. 
 
 The little ceremony was thus conducted. When the 
 company from the abbey drew near the troop of revel- 
 lers, the usher taking Alizon's hand in the tips of his 
 fingers as before, strutted forward with her to Sir Ralph 
 and his lady, and falling upon one knee before them, 
 said — " Most worshipful and honoured knight, and you 
 his lovely dame, and you the tender and cherished olive 
 branches growing round about their tables, I hereby 
 crave your gracious permission to present unto your 
 honours our chosen queen of May." 
 N 2
 
 180 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 Somewhat fluttered by the presentation, Alizon yet 
 maintained sufficient composure to bend gracefully before 
 Lady Assheton, and say in a very sweet voice, " I fear 
 your ladyship will think the choice of the village hath 
 fallen ill in alighting upon me ; and, indeed, I feel myself 
 altogether unworthy the distinction ; nevertheless I will 
 endeavour to discharge my office fittingly, and there- 
 fore pray you, fair lady, and the worshipful knight, your 
 husband, together with your beauteous children, and 
 the gentles all by whom you are surrounded, to grace our 
 little festival with your presence, hoping you may find 
 as much pleasure in the sight as we shall do in offering 
 it to you." 
 
 " A fair maid, and modest as she is fair," observed 
 Sir Ralph, with a condescending smile. 
 
 " In sooth is she," replied Lady Assheton, raising 
 her kindly, and saying, as she did so, 
 
 " Nay, you must not kneel to us, sweet maid. You 
 are queen of May, and it is for US' to show respect to 
 you during your day of sovereignty. Your wishes are 
 commands; and, in behalf of my husband, my children, 
 and our guests, I answer, that we will gladly attend 
 your revels on the green." 
 
 " Well said, dear Nell," observed Sir Ralph. " We 
 should be churlish, indeed, were we to refuse the bidding 
 of so lovely a queen." 
 
 " Nay, you have called the roses in earnest to her 
 cheek, now, Sir Ralph," observed Lady Assheton, 
 smiling. " Lead on, fair queen," she continued, " and
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 181 
 
 tell your companions to begin their sports when they 
 please. — Only remember this, that we shall hope to see 
 all your gay troop this evening, at the abbey, to a 
 merry dance." 
 
 " Where I will strive to find her majesty a suitable 
 partner," added Sir Ralph. " Stay, she shall make her 
 choice now, as a royal personage should ; for you 
 know, Nell ,a queen ever chooseth her partner, whe- 
 ther it be for the throne or for the brawl. How say 
 you, fair one ? Shall it be either of our young cousins, 
 Joe or Will Robinson, of Raydale. Or our cousin, 
 who still thinketh himself young, Squire Nicholas, of 
 Downham." 
 
 " Ay, let it be me, I implore of you, fair queen," 
 interposed Nicholas. 
 
 " He is engaged already," observed Richard Asshe- 
 ton, coming forward. "I heard him ask pretty Mistress 
 Tetlow, the farmer's wife, to dance with him this even- 
 ing at the Abbey." 
 
 A loud laugh from those around followed this piece 
 of information, but Nicholas was in no wise disconcerted. 
 
 u Dick would have her choose him, and that is 
 why he interferes with me," he observed. " How 
 say you, fair queen ! Shall it be our hopeful cousin ? 
 I will answer for him that he dance th the coranto and 
 lavolta indifferently well." 
 
 On hearing Richard Assheton's voice, all the colour 
 had forsaken Alizon's cheeks; but at this direct appeal 
 to her by Nicholas it returned with additional force, and
 
 182 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 tlie change did not escape the quick eye of Lady 
 Assheton. 
 
 " You perplex her, cousin Nicholas," she said. 
 
 "Not a whit, Eleanor," answered the squire; " but if 
 she like not Dick Assheton, there is another Dick, Dick 
 Sherburne, of Sladeburn ; or our cousin Jack Braddyll ; 
 or, if she prefer an older and discreeter man, there is 
 Father Greenacres, of Worsten, or Master Roger No well, 
 of Read — plenty of choice. " 
 
 " Nay, if I must choose a partner, it shall be a young 
 one," said Alizon. 
 
 si Right, fair queen, right," cried Nicholas, laughing. 
 " Ever choose a young man if you can. Who shall it 
 be?" 
 
 "You have named him yourself, sir," replied Alizon, 
 in a voice which she endeavoured to keep firm, but 
 which, in spite of all her efforts, sounded tremu- 
 lously — " Master Richard Assheton." 
 
 " Next to choosing me, you could not have chosen 
 better," observed Nicholas, approvingly. " Dick, lad, I 
 congratulate thee." 
 
 u I congratulate myself," replied the young man. 
 " Fair queen," he added, advancing, " highly flattered 
 am I by your choice, and shall so demean myself, I 
 trust, as to prove myself worthy of it. Before I go 
 I would beg a boon from you — that flower." 
 
 " This pink," cried Alizon. " It is your's, fair sir." 
 
 Young Assheton took the flower and took the hand 
 that offered it at the same time, and pressed the latter.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 183 
 
 to his lips, while Lady Asshcton, who had been made a 
 little uneasy by Alizon's apparent emotion, and who 
 with true feminine tact immediately detected its cause, 
 called out — " Now, forward — forward to the May Pole! 
 "We have interrupted the revel too long." 
 
 Upon this, the May Queen stepped blushingly back 
 with the " usher, who, with his white wand in hand, 
 had stood bolt upright behind her, immensely delighted 
 with the scene in which his pupil — for Alizon had been 
 tutored by him for the occasion — had taken part. Sir 
 Ralph then clapped his hands loudly, and at this signal, 
 the tabor and pipe struck up ; the Fool and the Hobby- 
 horse, who, though idle all the time, had indulged in 
 a little quiet fun with the rustics, recommenced their 
 gambols ; the Morris-dancers their lively dance; and 
 the whole train moved towards the May Pole, followed 
 by the rush-cart, with all its bells jingling, and all its 
 garlands waving. 
 
 As to Alizon, her brain was in a whirl, and her 
 bosom heaved so quickly, that she thought she should 
 faint. To think that the choice of a partner in the 
 dance at the abbey had been offered her, and that she 
 should venture to choose Master Richard Assheton ! 
 She could scarcely credit her own temerity. And then 
 to think that she should give him a flower, and more 
 than all, that he should kiss her hand in return for it ! 
 She felt the tingling pressure of his lips upon her 
 fingers still, and her little heart palpitated strangely. 
 
 As she approached the May Pole, and the troop again
 
 184 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 halted for a few minutes, she saw her brother James, 
 holding little Jennet by the hand, standing in the front 
 line to look at her. 
 
 " Oh, how I'm glad to see you here, Jennet !" she 
 cried. 
 
 " An ey'm glad to see yo, Alizon," replied the little 
 girl. " Jem has towd me whot a grand partner you're 
 to ha' this e'en." And she added, with playful malice, 
 "Who was wrong whon she said the queen could 
 choose Master Richard " 
 
 " Hush, Jennet, not a word more," interrupted Ali- 
 zon, blushing. 
 
 " Oh ! ey dunna mean to vex ye, ey'm sure," replied 
 Jennet. " Ey've got a present for ye." 
 
 " A present for me, Jennet," cried Alizon, " what is 
 it?" 
 
 " A beautiful white dove," replied the little girl. 
 
 " A white dove ! Where did you get it ? Let me see 
 it," cried Alizon, in a breath. 
 
 " Here it is," replied Jennet, opening her kirtle. 
 
 " A beautiful bird, indeed," cried Alizon. " Take 
 care of it for me till I come home." 
 
 " Which winna be till late, ey fancy, 55 rejoined 
 Jennet, roguishly. "Ah!" she added, uttering a 
 cry. 
 
 The latter exclamation was occasioned by the sud- 
 den flight of the dove, which escaping from her hold, 
 soared aloft. Jennet followed the course of its silver 
 wings, as they cleaved the blue sky, and then all at
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 185 
 
 once saw a large hawk, which apparently had been 
 hovering about, swoop down upon it, and bear it off. 
 Some white feathers fell down near the little girl, and 
 she picked up one of them and put it in her breast. 
 
 " Poor bird!" exclaimed the May Queen. 
 
 "Eigh, poor bird!" echoed Jennet, tearfully. " Ah 
 ye dunna knoa aw, Alizon." 
 
 " Weel, there's neaw use whimpering abowt a duv," 
 observed Jem, gruffly. u Ey'n bring ye another t' furst 
 time ey go to Cown." 
 
 " There's nah another bird like that," sobbed the little 
 girl. " Shoot that cruel hawk fo 5 me Jem, win ye." 
 
 " How conney wench, whon it's flown away," he re- 
 plied. " Boh ey'n rob a hawk's neest fo ye if that'll do 
 os weel." 
 
 " Yo dunna understand me, Jem," replied the child, 
 sadly. 
 
 At this moment, the music which had ceased while 
 some arrangements were made, commenced a very 
 lively tune, known as " Round about the May Pole," and 
 Robin Hood taking the May Queen's hand, led her 
 towards the pole, and placing her near it, the whole of 
 her attendants took hands, while a second circle was 
 formed by the morris-dancers, and both began to 
 wheel rapidly round her, the music momently in- 
 creasing in spirit and quickness. An irresistible desire 
 to join in the measure seized some of the lads and 
 lasses around, and they likewise took hands, and 
 presently a third, and still wider circle was formed,
 
 186 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 ■wheeling gaily round the other two. Other dances 
 were formed here and there, and presently the whole 
 green was in movement. 
 
 11 If you come off heart-whole to-night, Dick, I shall 
 be surprised," observed Nicholas, who with his young 
 relative had approached as near the May Pole as the 
 three rounds of dancers would allow them. 
 
 Richard Assheton made no reply, but glanced at the 
 pink which he had placed in his doublet. 
 
 " Who is the May Queen ?" inquired Sir Thomas 
 Metcalfe, who had likewise drawn near, of a tall man 
 holding a little girl by the hand. 
 
 " Alizon, dowter of Elizabeth Device, an mey sister," 
 replied James Device, gruffly. 
 
 " Humph !" muttered Sir Thomas, " she is a well- 
 looking lass. And she dwells here — in Whalley, 
 fellow?" he added. 
 
 " Hoo dwells i' Whalley," responded Jem, sullenly. 
 
 " I can easily find her abode, 5 ' muttered the knight, 
 walking away. 
 
 " What was it Sir Thomas said to you, Jem?" in- 
 quired Nicholas, who had watched the knight's ges- 
 tures, coming up. 
 
 Jem related what had passed between them. 
 
 "What the devil does he want with her?" cried 
 Nicholas. a No good I'm sure. But I'll spoil his 
 sport. 1 ' 
 
 " Say boh t' word, squoire, an ey'n break every 
 boan i' his body," remarked Jem.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 187 
 
 " No, no, Jem," replied Nicholas. " Take care of 
 your pretty sister, and I'll take care of him." 
 
 At this juncture, Sir Thomas, who, in spite of the 
 efforts of the pacific Master Potts to tranquillise him, had 
 been burning with wrath at the affront he had received 
 from Nicholas, came up to Richard Assheton, and 
 noticing the pink in his bosom, snatched it away 
 suddenly. 
 
 " I want a flower," he said, smelling at it. 
 
 "Instantly restore it, Sir Thomas!" cried Richard 
 Assheton, pale with rage, " or " 
 
 "What will you do, young sir ?" rejoined the 
 knight, tauntingly, and plucking the flower in pieces. 
 " You can get another from the fair nymph who gave 
 you this." 
 
 Further speech was not allowed the knight, for he 
 received a violent blow on the chest from the hand of 
 Richard Assheton, which sent him reeling backwards, 
 and would have felled him to the ground if he had not 
 been caught by some of the bystanders. The moment 
 he recovered, Sir Thomas drew his sword, and 
 furiously assaulted young Assheton, who stood ready 
 for him, and after the exchange of a few passes, 
 for none of the bystanders dared to interfere, sent 
 his sword whirling over their heads through the air. 
 
 "Bravo, Dick," cried Nicholas, stepping up, and 
 clapping his cousin on the back, " you have read him 
 a good lesson, and taught him that he cannot always 
 insult folks with impunity, ha ! ha !" And he laughed 
 loudly at the discomfited knight.
 
 188 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " He is an insolent coward/' said Richard Assheton. 
 " Give him his sword and let him come on again." 
 
 "No, no," said Nicholas, " he has had enough this 
 time. And if he has not, he must settle an account with 
 me. Put up your blade, lad." 
 
 " I'll be revenged upon you both," said Sir Thomas, 
 taking his sword, which had been brought him by a 
 bystander, and stalking away. 
 
 " You leave us in mortal dread, doughty knight," 
 cried Nicholas, shouting after him, derisively, " ha ! ha ! 
 ha!" 
 
 Richard Assheton's attention was, however, turned 
 in a different direction, for the music suddenly ceasing, 
 and the dancers stopping, he learnt that the May Queen 
 had fainted, and presently afterwards the crowd opened 
 to give passage to Robin Hood, who bore her inanimate 
 form in his arms.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 189 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ALICE NUTTER. 
 
 The quarrel between Nicholas Assheton and Sir 
 Thomas Metcalfe had already been nfade known to Sir 
 Ralph by the officious Master Potts, and though it 
 occasioned the knight much displeasure, as interfering 
 with the amicable arrangement he hoped to effect 
 with Sir Thomas for his relatives the Robinsons, still 
 he felt sure that he had sufficient influence with his 
 hot-headed cousin, the squire, to prevent the dispute 
 from being carried further, and he only waited the 
 conclusion of the sports on the green, to take him to 
 task. What was the knight's surprise and annoyance, 
 therefore, to find that a new brawl had sprung up, and 
 ignorant of its precise cause, he laid it entirely at 
 the door of the turbulent Nicholas. Indeed, on the 
 commencement of the fray he imagined that the squire 
 was personally concerned in it, and, full of wroth, flew 
 to the scene of action ; but before he got there, the affair, 
 which, as has been seen, was of short duration, was fully 
 settled, and he only heard the jeers addressed to the
 
 190 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 retreating combatant by Nicholas. It was not Sir 
 Ralph's way to vent his choler in words, but the squire 
 knew in an instant, from the expression of his counte- 
 nance, that he was greatly incensed, and therefore 
 hastened to explain. 
 
 "What means this unseemly disturbance, Nicholas?" 
 cried Sir Ralph, not allowing the other to speak. 
 " You are ever brawling like an Alsatian squire. Inde- 
 pendently of the ill-example set to these good folk, who 
 have met here for tranquil amusement, you have coun- 
 teracted all my plans for the adjustment of the differ- 
 ences between Sir Thomas Metcalfe and our aunt, of 
 Raydale. If you forget what is due to yourself, sir, do 
 not forget what is due to me, and to the name you 
 bear." 
 
 u No one but yourself should say as much to me, Sir 
 Ralph," rejoined Nicholas, somewhat haughtily, ■ but 
 you are under a misapprehension. It is not I who 
 have been fighting, though I should have acted in pre- 
 cisely the same manner as our cousin Dick, if I had 
 received the same affront, and so I make bold to say, 
 would you. Our name shall suffer no discredit from 
 me; and as a gentleman, I assert, that Sir Thomas Met- 
 calfe has only received due chastisement, as you your- 
 self will admit, cousin, when you know all." 
 
 " I know him to be overbearing," observed Sir 
 Ralph. 
 
 " Overbearing is not the word, cousin," interrupted 
 Nicholas, " he is as proud as a peacock, and would
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 191 
 
 trample upon us all, and gore us, too, like one of the 
 wild bulls of Bowland, if we would let him have his 
 way. But I would treat him as I would the bull afore- 
 said, a wild boar, or any other savage and intractable 
 beast, hunt him down, and poll his horns, or pluck out 
 his tusks." 
 
 " Come, come, Nicholas, this is no very gentle lan- 
 guage," remarked Sir Ralph. 
 
 " Why, to speak truth, cousin, I do not feel in any 
 very gentle frame of mind/' rejoined the squire; "my 
 ire has been roused by this insolent braggart, my blood 
 is up, and I long to be doing." 
 
 " Unchristian feelings, Nicholas," said Sir Ralph, 
 severely, " and should be overcome. Turn the other 
 cheek to the smiter. I trust you bear no malice to 
 Sir Thomas." 
 
 " I bear him no malice, for I hope malice is not in my 
 nature, cousin," replied Nicholas, " but I owe him 
 a grudge, and when a fitting opportunity occurs — " 
 
 " No more of this, unless you would really incur my 
 displeasure," rejoined Sir Ralph; u the matter has gone 
 far enough, too far, perhaps, for amendment, and if you 
 know it not, I can tell you that Sir Thomas's claims to 
 Raydale will be difficult to dispute, and so our uncle 
 Robinson lias found since he hath taken counsel on the 
 case." 
 
 a Have a care, Sir Ralph," said Nicholas, noticing 
 that Master Potts was approaching them, with his ears 
 evidently wide open, "there is that little London law-
 
 192 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 yer hovering about. But I'll give the cunning fox a 
 double. I'm glad to hear you say so, Sir Ralph," he 
 added, in a tone calculated to reach Potts, "and since 
 our uncle Robinson is so sure of his cause, it may be 
 better to let this blustering knight be. Perchance, it is 
 the certainty of failure that makes him so insensate." 
 
 " This is meant to blind me, but it shall not serve your 
 turn, cautelous squire," muttered Potts ; "I caught 
 enough of what fell just now from Sir Ralph to satisfy 
 me that he hath strong misgivings. But it is best not to 
 appear too secure. — Ah, Sir Ralph," he added, coming 
 forward, "I was right, you see, in my caution. I am a 
 man of peace, and strive to prevent quarrels and blood- 
 shed. Quarrel if you please — and unfortunately men 
 are prone to anger — but always settle your disputes 
 in a court of law ; always in a court of law, Sir Ralph. 
 That is the only arena where a sensible man should ever 
 fight. Take good advice, fee your council well, and the 
 chances are ten to one in your favour. That is what I say 
 to my worthy and singular good client, Sir Thomas; 
 but he is somewhat headstrong and vehement, and will 
 not listen to me. He is for settling matters by the 
 sword, for making forcible entries and detainers, and 
 ousting the tenants in possession, whereby he would 
 render himself liable to arrest, fine, ransom, and for- 
 feiture, instead of proceeding cautiously and deco- 
 rously as the law directs, and as I advise, Sir Ralph, 
 by writ of ejectione JirmcB or action of trespass, the 
 which would assuredly establish his title, and restore
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 193 
 
 him the house and lands. Or he may proceed by writ 
 of right, which, perhaps, in his case, considering the 
 long absence of possession, and the doubts supposed 
 to perplex the title — though I myself have no 
 doubts about it — would be the most efficacious- 
 These are your only true weapons, Sir Ralph, — your 
 writs of entry, assise, and right, — your pleas of novel 
 disseisin, post-disseisin, and re-disseisin, — your remit- 
 ters, your praecipes, your pones, and your recordari 
 faciases. These are the sword, shield, and armour of 
 proof of a wise man." 
 
 " Zounds ! you take away one's breath with this 
 hail-storm of writs and pleas, master lawyer I" cried 
 Nicholas. "But in one respect I am of your 'wor- 
 thy and singular good' client's opinion, and would 
 rather trust to my own hand for the defence of my 
 property than to the law to keep it for me." 
 
 " Then you would do wrong, good Master Nicholas," 
 rejoined Potts, with a smile of supreme contempt; " for 
 the law is the better guardian and the stronger adver- 
 sary of the two, and so Sir Thomas will find if he takes 
 my advice, and obtains, as he can and will do, a perfect 
 title juris et seisince conjunctionem" 
 
 " Sir Thomas is still willing to refer the case to 
 my arbitrement, I believe, sir?" demanded Sir Ralph, 
 uneasily. 
 
 " He was so, Sir Ralph," rejoined Potts, " unless 
 the assaults and batteries, with intent to do him grievous 
 corporal hurt, which he hath sustained from your rela- 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 1 94 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 tives, have induced a change of mind in him. But 
 as I premised, Sir Ralph, I am a man of peace, and 
 willing to intermediate." 
 
 " Provided you get your fee, master lawyer, 55 ob- 
 served Nicholas, sarcastically. 
 
 " Certainly, I object not to the quiddam honorarium, 
 Master Nicholas," rejoined Potts; "and if my client 
 hath the quid pro quo, and gaineth his point, he cannot 
 complain. — But what is this ? Some fresh disturb- 
 ance I" 
 
 " Something hath happened to the May Queen," 
 cried Nicholas. 
 
 " I trust not," said Sir Ralph, with real concern. 
 " Ha ! she has fainted. They are bringing her this 
 way. Poor maid ! what can have occasioned this sudden 
 seizure ?" 
 
 " I think I could give a guess/' muttered Nicholas. 
 " Better remove her to the Abbey," he added aloud to 
 the knight. 
 
 " You are right/' said Sir Ralph. " Our cousin Dick 
 is near her, I observe. He shall see her conveyed there 
 at once." 
 
 At this moment Lady Assheton, and Mistress Nutter, 
 with some of the other ladies, came up. 
 
 " Just in time, Nell," cried the knight. " Have you 
 your smelling-bottle about you ? The May Queen has 
 fainted." 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed Lady Assheton, springing 
 towards Alizon, who was now sustained by young
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 195 
 
 Richard Assheton; the forester having surrendered her 
 to him. " How has this happened?" she inquired, 
 giving her to breathe at a small phial. 
 
 " That I cannot tell you, cousin," replied Richard 
 Assheton, "unless from some sudden fright." 
 
 " That was it, Master Richard," cried Robin Hood; 
 " she cried out on hearing the clashing of swords, just 
 now, and, I think, pronounced your name, on finding 
 you engaged with Sir Thomas, and immediately after 
 turned pale, and would have fallen if I had not caught 
 her." 
 
 " Ah, indeed !" exclaimed Lady Assheton, glancing 
 at Richard, whose eyes fell before her inquiring gaze. 
 "But see, she revives," pursued the lady. "Let me 
 support her head." 
 
 As she spoke Alizon opened her eyes, and perceiving 
 Richard Assheton, who had relinquished her to his 
 relative, standing beside her, she exclaimed, " Oh ! 
 you are safe ! I feared" — And then she stopped, greatly 
 embarrassed. 
 
 " You feared he might be in danger from his fierce 
 adversary," supplied Lady Assheton; " but no. The 
 conflict is happily over, and he is unhurt/' 
 
 " I am glad of it," said Alizon, earnestly. 
 
 a She had better be taken to the Abbey," remarked 
 Sir Ralph, coming up. 
 
 " Nay, she will be more at ease at home," observed 
 Lady Assheton, with a significant look, which, however, 
 failed in reaching her husband. 
 o2
 
 196 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Yes, truly shall I, gracious lady/' replied Alizon, 
 " far more so. I have given you trouble enough 
 already." 
 
 "No trouble at all," said Sir Ralph, kindly; " her 
 ladyship is too happy to be of service in a case like 
 this. Are you not, Nell? The faintness will pass off pre- 
 sently . But let her go to the Abbey at once, and remain 
 there till the evening festivities, in which she takes part, 
 commence. Give her your arm, Dick." 
 
 Sir Ralph's word was law, and therefore Lady As- 
 slieton made no remonstrance. But she said, quickly, 
 " I will take care of her myself." 
 
 " I require no assistance, madam," replied Alizon, 
 "since Sir Ralph will have me go. Nay, you are 
 too kind, too condescending," she added, reluctantly 
 taking Lady Assheton's proffered arm. 
 
 And in this w r ay they proceeded slowly towards the 
 Abbey, escorted by Richard Assheton, and attended by 
 Mistress Braddyll and some others of the ladies. 
 
 Amongst those who had watched the progress of the 
 May Queen's restoration with most interest was Mistress 
 Nutter, though she had not interfered; and as Alizon 
 departed with Lady Assheton, she observed to Nicho- 
 las, who was standing near, 
 
 " Can this be the daughter of Elizabeth Device, and 
 grand-daughter of — " 
 
 " Your old Pendle witch, Mother Demdike," sup- 
 plied Nicholas; " the very same, I assure you, Mistress 
 Nutter."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 197 
 
 " She is wholly unlike the family " observed the 
 lady, " and her features resemble some I have seen 
 before." 
 
 44 She does not resemble her mother, undoubtedly," 
 replied Nicholas, " though what her grand-dame may 
 have been some sixty years ago, when she was Alizon's 
 age, it would be difficult to say. — She is no beauty 
 now." 
 
 "Those finely modelled features, that graceful figure, 
 and those delicate hands, cannot surely belong to one 
 lowly born and bred?" said Mistress Nutter. 
 
 11 They differ from the ordinary peasant mould, truly/' 
 replied Nicholas. u If you ask me for the lineage of a 
 steed, I can give a guess at it on sight of the animal, 
 but as regards our own race, I'm at fault, Mistress 
 Nutter." 
 
 11 I must question Elizabeth Device about her," 
 observed Alice. " Strange, I should never have seen 
 her before, though I know the family so well." 
 
 14 1 wish you did not know Mother Demdike quite 
 so well, Mistress Nutter," remarked Nicholas — " a mis- 
 chievous and malignant old witch, who deserves the 
 tar-barrel. The only marvel is, that she has not been 
 burned long ago. I am of opinion, with many others, 
 that it was she who bewitched your poor husband, 
 Richard Nutter." 
 
 " I do not think it," replied Mistress Nutter, with a 
 mournful shake of the head. u Alas, poor man ! he died 
 from hard riding, after hard drinking. That was the
 
 198 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 only witchcraft in his case. Be warned by his fate 
 yourself, Nicholas." 
 
 " Hard riding after drinking was more likely to sober 
 him than to kill him," rejoined the squire. " But, as I 
 said just now, I like not this Mother Demdike, nor her 
 rival in iniquity, old Mother Chattox. The devil only 
 knows which of the two is worst. But if the former hag 
 did not bewitch your husband to death, as I shrewdly 
 suspect, it is certain that the latter mumbling old 
 miscreant killed my elder brother, Richard, by her 
 sorceries." 
 
 " Mother Chattox did you a good turn then, Ni- 
 cholas," observed Mistress Nutter, " in making you 
 master of the fair estates of Downham." 
 
 " So far, perhaps, she might," rejoined Nicholas, 
 " but I do not like the manner of it, and would gladly 
 see her burned; nay, I would fire the faggots myself." 
 " You are superstitious as the rest, Nicholas," said 
 Mistress Nutter. " For my part I do not believe in 
 the existence of witches/' 
 
 " Not believe in witches, with these two living proofs 
 to the contrary?" cried Nicholas, in amazement. " Why 
 Pendle Forest swarms with witches. They burrow in the 
 hill-side like rabbits in a warren. They are the terror 
 of the whole country. No man's cattle, goods, nor even 
 life, are safe from them, and the only reason why these 
 two old hags who hold sovereign sway over the others 
 have 'scaped justice so long, is because every one is 
 afraid to go near them. Their solitary habitations are
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 199 
 
 more strongly guarded than fortresses. Not believe in 
 witches ! Why I should as soon misdoubt the Holy 
 Scriptures." 
 
 11 It may be because I reside near them that I have 
 so little apprehension, or rather no apprehension at all," 
 replied Mistress Nutter; "but to me Mother Demdike 
 and Mother Chattox appear two harmless old women." 
 
 " They're a couple of dangerous and damnable old 
 hags, and deserve the stake," cried Nicholas, emphati- 
 cally. 
 
 All this discourse had been swallowed with greedy 
 ears by the ever-vigilant Master Potts, who had ap- 
 proached the speakers unperceived; and he now threw 
 in a word. 
 
 " So there are suspected Avitches in Pendle Forest, I 
 find," he said. " I shall make it my business to institute 
 inquiries concerning them, when I visit the place to- 
 morrow. Even if merely ill-reputed, they must be 
 examined, and if found innocent cleared; if not, punished 
 according to the statute. Our sovereign lord the king 
 holdeth witches in especial abhorrence, and would gladly 
 see all such noxious vermin extirpated from the land, and 
 it will rejoice me to promote his laudable designs. I 
 must pray you to afford me all the assistance you can 
 in the discovery of these dreadful delinquents, good 
 Master Nicholas, and I will care that your services 
 are duly represented in the proper quarter. As I have 
 just said, the king taketh singular interest in witchcraft, 
 as you may judge if the learned tractate he hath put
 
 200 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 forth, in form of a dialogue, intituled " Dcsmonologie" 
 hath ever met your eye ; and he is never so well pleased 
 as when the truth of his tenets are proved by such secret 
 offenders being brought to light, and duly punished." 
 
 " The king's known superstitious dread of witches 
 makes men seek them out to win his favour," observed 
 Mistress Nutter. " They have wonderfully increased 
 since the publication of that baneful book ! " 
 
 " Not so, madam," replied Potts. " Our sovereign 
 lord the king hath a wholesome and just hatred of such 
 evil-doers and traitors to himself and heaven, and it may 
 be dread of them, as indeed all good men must have ; but 
 he would protect his subjects from them, and therefore, in 
 the first year of his reign, which I trust will be long and 
 prosperous, he hath passed a statute, whereby it is enacted 
 * that all persons invoking any evil spirit, or consulting, 
 covenanting with, entertaining, employing, feeding, or 
 rewarding any evil spirit. Or taking up dead bodies from 
 their graves to be used in any witchcraft, sorcery, charm, 
 or enchantment. Or killing or otherwise hurting any 
 person by such infernal arts, shall be guilty of felony 
 without benefit of clergy, and suffer death.' This sta- 
 tute, madam, was intended to check the crimes of 
 necromancy, sorcery, and witchcraft, and not to increase 
 them. And I maintain that it has checked them, and 
 will continue to check them." 
 
 ei It is a wicked and bloody statute," observed Mis- 
 tress Nutter, in a deep tone, " and many an innocent 
 life will be sacrificed thereby."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 201 
 
 "How, madam !" cried Master Potts, staring aghast. 
 " Do you mean to impugn the sagacity and justice of 
 our high and mighty king, the head of the law, and 
 defender of the faith?" 
 
 " I affirm that this is a sanguinary enactment," 
 replied Mistress Nutter, " and will put power into 
 hands that will abuse it, and destroy many guilt- 
 less persons. It will make more witches than it will 
 find." 
 
 " Some are ready made, methinks," muttered Potts, 
 " and we need not go far to find them. You are a 
 zealous advocate for witches, I must say, madam." 
 he added, aloud, " and I shall not forget your arguments 
 in their favour." 
 
 " To my prejudice, I doubt not," she rejoined bit- 
 terly. 
 
 " No, to the credit of your humanity," he answered, 
 bowing, with pretended conviction. 
 
 " Well, I will aid you in your search for witches, 
 Master Potts," observed Nicholas ; "for I would 
 gladly see the country rid of these pests. But I warn 
 you the quest will be attended with risk, and you will 
 get few to accompany you, for all the folk hereabouts 
 are mortally afraid of these terrible old hags." 
 
 " I fear nothing in the discharge of my duty," replied 
 Master Potts, courageously, "for as our high and 
 mighty sovereign hath well and learnedly observed — 
 ' if witches be but apprehended and detained by any 
 private person, upon other private respects, their
 
 202 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 power, no doubt, either in escaping, or in doing hurt, 
 is no less than ever it was before. But if, on the 
 other part, their apprehending and detention be by the 
 lawful magistrate upon the just respect of their guilti- 
 ness in that craft, their power is then no greater than 
 before that ever they meddled with their master. For 
 where God begins justly to strike by his lawful lieute- 
 nants, it is not in the devil's power to defraud or bereave 
 him of the office or effect of his powerful and revenging 
 sceptre.' Thus I am safe ; and I shall take care to go 
 armed with a proper warrant, which I shall obtain from 
 amagistrate, my honoured friend and singular good client, 
 Master Roger Noweli. This will obtain me such assist- 
 ance as I may require, and for due observance of my 
 authority I shall likewise take with me a peace-officer, 
 or constable." 
 
 " You will do well, Master Potts," said Nicholas; 
 " still you must not put faith in all the idle tales told you, 
 for the common folk hereabouts are blindly and foolishly 
 superstitious, and fancy they discern witchcraft in every 
 mischance, however slight, that befals them. If ale turn 
 sour after a thunder-storm the witch hath done it ; and if 
 the butter cometli not quickly, she hindereth it. If the 
 meat roast ill the witch hath turned the spit ; and if the 
 lumber pie taste ill she hath had a finger in it. If your 
 sheep have the foot-rot — your horses the staggers or string- 
 halt — your swine the measles — your hounds a surfeit — or 
 your cow slippeth her calf — the witch is at the bottom of 
 it all. If your maid hath a fit of the sullens, or doeth her 
 work amiss, or your man breaketh a dish, the witch is
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 203 
 
 in fault, and her shoulders can bear the blame. On this 
 very day of the year — namely. May Day, — the foolish 
 folk hold any aged crone who fetcheth fire to be a witch, 
 and if they catch a hedge-hog among their cattle, they 
 ■will instantly beat it to death with sticks, concluding 
 it to be old an hag in that form come to dry up the 
 milk of their kine." 
 
 " These are what Master Potts's royal authority 
 would style 'mere old wives' trattles about the fire,' " 
 observed Mistress Nutter, scornfully. 
 
 " Better be over-credulous than over-sceptical," replied 
 Potts. " Even at my lodging in Chancery Lane I 
 have a horse-shoe nailed against the door. One cannot 
 be too cautious when one has to fi^ht against the devil, 
 or those in league with him. Your witch should be put 
 to every ordeal. She should be scratched with pins 
 to draw blood from her; weighed against the church 
 bible, though this is not always proof ; forced to weep, 
 for a witch can only shed three tears, and those only 
 from the left eye ; or, as our sovereign lord the king truly 
 observeth — no offence to you, Mistress Nutter — c Not 
 so much as their eyes are able to shed tears, albeit the 
 womenkind especially be able otherwise to shed tears 
 at every light occasion when they will, yea, although 
 it were dissemblingly like the crocodile;' and set on 
 a stool for twenty-four hours, with her legs tied across, 
 and suffered neither to eat, drink, nor sleep during 
 the time. This is the surest way to make her con- 
 fess her guilt next to swimming. If it fails, then cast 
 her with her thumbs and toes tied across into a pond, and
 
 204 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 if she sink not then is she~certainly a witch. Other trials 
 there are, as that by scalding water — sticking knives 
 across — heating of the horse-shoe — tying of knots — the 
 sieve and the shears; but the only ordeals safely to be 
 relied on, are the swimming and the stool before-men- 
 tioned, and from these your witch shall rarely escape. 
 Above all, be sure and search carefully for the witch- 
 mark. I doubt not we shall find it fairly and legibly 
 writ in the devil's characters on Mother Demdike and 
 Mother Chattox. They shall undergo the stool and the 
 pool, and other trials, if required. These old hags shall 
 no longer vex you, good Master Nicholas. Leave them 
 to me, and doubt not I will bring them to condign 
 punishment." 
 
 "You will do us good service then, Master Potts," 
 replied Nicholas. " But, since you are so learned in the 
 matter of witchcraft, resolve m, I pray you, how it is, 
 that women are so much more addicted to the practice 
 of the black art, than our own sex." 
 
 "The answer to the inquiry hath been given by 
 our British Solomon," replied Potts, " and I will de- 
 liver it to you in his own words. ' The reason is easy,' 
 he saith, ' for as that sex is frailer than man is, so it is 
 easier to be entrapped in those gross snares of the devil, 
 as was overwell proved to be true, by the serpent's de- 
 ceiving of Eva at the beginning, which makes him the 
 homelier with that sex sensine.' " 
 
 " A good and sufficient reason, Master Potts," said 
 Nicholas, laughing; " Is it not so, Mistress Nutter ?" 
 
 " Ay, marry, if it satisfies you," she answered, drily.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 205 
 
 4 ' It is of a piece with the rest of the reasoning of the 
 royal pedant, whom Master Potts styles the British 
 Solomon." 
 
 " I only give the learned monarch the title by which 
 he is recognised throughout Christendom," rejoined 
 Potts, sharply. 
 
 (i Well, there is comfort in the thought, that I 
 shall never be taken for a wizard," said the squire. 
 
 " Be not too sure of that, good Master Nicholas," 
 returned Potts. " Our prescient prince seems to' have 
 had you in his eye when he penned his descrip- 
 tion of a wizard, for, he saith, ' A great number 
 of them that ever have been convict or confessors of 
 witchcraft, as may be presently seen by many that 
 have at this time confessed, are some of them rich and 
 worldly-wise; some of them fat or corpulent in their 
 bodies; and most part of them altogether given over 
 to the pleasures of the flesh, continual haunting of com- 
 pany, and all kinds of merriness, lawful and unlawful.' 
 This hitteth you exactly, Master Nicholas." 
 
 " Zounds!" exclaimed the squire, " if this be exact, 
 it toucheth me too nearly to be altogether agreeable." 
 
 (i The passage is truly quoted, Nicholas," observed 
 Mistress Nutter, with a cold smile. " I perfectly re- 
 member it. Master Potts seems to have the ' Dajmon- 
 ologie' at his lingers' ends." 
 
 " I have made it my study, madam," replied the law- 
 yer, somewhat mollified by the remark, " as I have the 
 statute on witchcraft, and indeed most other statutes."
 
 206 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " We have wasted time enough in this unprofitable 
 talk/' said Mistress Nutter, abruptly quitting them 
 without bestowing the slightest salutation on Potts. 
 
 " I was but jesting in what I said just now, good 
 Master Nicholas," observed the little lawyer, nowise 
 disconcerted at the slight; "though they were the 
 king's exact words I quoted. No one would suspect 
 you of being a wizard — ha ! — ha ! But I am resolved to 
 prosecute the search, and I calculate upon your aid, and 
 that of Master Richard Assheton, who goes with us." 
 
 u You shall have mine, at all events, Master Potts," 
 replied Nicholas; " and I doubt not, my cousin Dick's, 
 too." 
 
 " Our May Queen, Alizon Device, is Mother Dem- 
 dike's grand-daughter, is she not ?" asked Potts, after a 
 moment's reflection. 
 
 " Ay, why do you ask?" demanded Nicholas. 
 
 " For a good and sufficing reason," replied Potts. 
 fi She might be an important witness, for, as King James 
 saith, ' bairns or wives may, of our law, serve for suffi- 
 cient witnesses and proofs.' And he goeth on to say, 
 e For who but witches can be proofs, and so witnesses 
 of the doings of witches.' " 
 
 " You do not mean to aver that Alizon Device is a 
 witch, sir ?" cried Nicholas, sharply. 
 
 "I aver nothing," replied Potts ; "but, as a relative 
 of a suspected witch, she will be the best witness 
 against her." 
 
 " If you design to meddle with Alizon Device, expect
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 207 
 
 no assistance from me, Master Potts," said Nicholas, 
 sternly, " but rather the contrary." 
 
 " Nay, I but threw out the hint, good Master 
 Nicholas," replied Potts. "Another witness will do 
 equally well. There are other children, no doubt. I 
 rely on you, sir, I rely on you. I shall now go in 
 search of Master Nowell, and obtain the warrant and 
 the constable." 
 
 u And I shall go keep my appointment with Par- 
 son Dewhurst, at the Abbey," said Nicholas, bowing 
 slightly to the attorney, and taking his departure. 
 
 " It will not do to alarm him at present," said Potts, 
 looking after him, " but Pll have that girl as a witness, 
 and I know how to terrify her into compliance. 
 A singular woman, that Mistress Alice Nutter. I 
 must inquire into her history. Odd, how obstinately 
 she set her face against witchcraft. And yet she 
 lives at Rough Lee, in the very heart of a witch 
 district, for such Master Nicholas Assheton calls 
 this Pendle Forest. I shouldn't wonder if she has 
 dealings with the old hags she defends — Mother Dem- 
 dike, and Mother Chattox. Chattox ! Lord bless us, what 
 a name ! — There's cauldron and broomstick in the very 
 sound ! And Demdike is little better. Both seem of 
 diabolical invention. If I can unearth a pack of witches, 
 I shall gain much credit from my honourable good lords 
 the judges of assize in these northern parts, besides pleas- 
 ing the King himself, who is sure to hear of it, and 
 reward my praiseworthy zeal. Look to yourself, Mis-
 
 208 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 tress Nutter, and take care you are not caught tripping. 
 And now, for Master Roger Nowell." 
 
 With this, he peered about among the crowd in 
 search of the magistrate, but though he thrust his little 
 turned-up nose in every direction, he could not find 
 him, and therefore set out for the Abbey, concluding 
 he had gone thither. 
 
 As Mistress Nutter walked along, she perceived James 
 Device among the crowd, holding Jennet by the hand, 
 and motioned him to come to her. Jem instantly under- 
 stood the sign, and quitting his little sister, drew near. 
 
 "Tell thy mother," said Mistress Nutter, in a tone 
 calculated only for his hearing, " to come to me, at the 
 Abbey, quickly and secretly. I shall be in the ruins of 
 the old convent church. I have somewhat to say to her, 
 that concerns herself as well as me. Thou wilt have 
 to go to Rough Lee and Malkin Tower to-night." 
 
 Jem nodded, to show his perfect apprehension of what 
 was said and his assent to it, and while Mistress Nutter 
 moved on with a slow and dignified step, he returned to 
 Jennet, and told her she must go home directly, a piece 
 of intelligence which was not received very graciously 
 by the little maiden; but nothing heeding her unwill- 
 ingness, Jem walked her off quickly in the direction of 
 the cottage ; but while on the way to it, they acciden- 
 tally encountered their mother, Elizabeth Device, and 
 therefore stopped. 
 
 " Yo mun go up to th' abbey, directly, mother, " said 
 Jem, with a wink, "Mistress Nutter wishes to see ye.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 209 
 
 Yo'n find her i' t' ruins o' t' owd convent church. 
 Tak kere yo're neaw seen. Yo onderstond." 
 
 " Yeigh," repHed Elizabeth, nodding her head 
 significantly, " ey'n go at wonst, an see efter Alizon 
 ot t' same time. Fo ey , m towd hoo has fainted, an 
 been taen to th' Abbey by Lady Assheton." 
 
 " Never heed Alizon," replied Jem, gruffly. " Hoo's 
 i' good hands. Ye munna be seen, ey tell ye. Ey'm 
 going to Malkin Tower to-neet, if yo'n owt to send." 
 
 "To-neet, Jem," echoed little Jennet. 
 
 " Eigh," rejoined Jem, sharply. " Howd te tongue, 
 wench. Dunna lose time, mother." 
 
 And as he and his little sister pursued their way to 
 the cottage, Elizabeth hobbled ofT towards the Abbey, 
 muttering, as she went, " I hope Alizon an Mistress Nutter 
 winna meet. Nah that it matters, boh still it's better not. 
 Strange, the wench should ha' fainted. Boh she's always 
 foolish an timmersome, an ey half fear has lost her heart 
 to young Richard Assheton. Ey'n watch her narrowly, 
 an if it turn out to be so, she mun be cured, or he 
 secured — ha! ha!" 
 
 And muttering in this way, she passed through the 
 abbey gateway, the wicket being left open, and pro- 
 ceeded towards the ruinous convent church, taking 
 care as much as possible to avoid observation. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 210 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MOTHER CHATTOX. 
 
 Not far from the green where the May Day- 
 revels were held, stood the ancient parish church of 
 Whalley, its square tower surmounted with a flag-staff 
 and banner, and shaking with the joyous peals of the 
 ringers. A picturesque and beautiful structure it was, 
 though full of architectural incongruities, and its gray 
 walls and hoary buttresses, with the lancet-shaped win- 
 dows of the choir, and the ramified tracery of the fine 
 eastern window, could not fail to please any taste not 
 quite so critical as to require absolute harmony and 
 perfection in a building. Parts of the venerable fabric 
 were older than the Abbey itself, dating back as far 
 as the eleventh century, when a chapel occupied the 
 site, and though many alterations had been made in the 
 subsequent structure at various times, and many beauties 
 destroyed, especially during the period of the Reform- 
 ation, enough of its pristine character remained to ren- 
 der it a very good specimen of an old country church. 
 Internally, the cylindrical columns of the north aisle, 
 the construction of the choir, and the three stone
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 211 
 
 seats supported on rounded columns near the altar, 
 proclaimed its high antiquity. Within the choir were 
 preserved the eighteen richly-carved stalls once occu- 
 pying a similar position in the desecrated conventual 
 church ; and though exquisite in themselves, they seemed 
 here sadly out of place, not being proportionate to the 
 structure. Their elaborately-carved seats projected far 
 into the body of the church, and their crocketed pin- 
 nacles shot up almost to the ceiling. But it was well 
 they had not shared the destruction in which almost 
 all the other ornaments of the magnificent fane they 
 once decorated were involved. Carefully preserved, 
 the black varnished oak well displayed the quaint 
 and grotesque designs with which many of them — 
 the Prior's stall in especial — were embellished. Chief 
 among them was the abbot's stall, festooned with sculp- 
 tured vine wreaths and clustering grapes, and bearing 
 the auspicious inscription : 
 
 srcmpcr gauttcntes suit t'sta scire srtrrntrs : 
 singularly inapplicable, however, to the last prelate 
 who rilled it. Some fine old monuments, and warlike 
 trophies of neighbouring wealthy families, adorned 
 the walls, and within the nave was a magnificent 
 pew, with a canopy and pillars of elaborately-carved 
 oak, and lattice- work at the sides, allotted to the 
 manor of Read, and recently erected by Roger Nowell; 
 while in the north and south aisles, were two small cha- 
 pels, converted since the reformed faith had obtained, 
 into pews — the one, called Saint Mary's Cage, belonging 
 P2
 
 212 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 to the Assheton family; and the other, appertaining to 
 the Catterals, of Little Mitton, and designated Saint 
 Nicholas's Cage. Under the last-named chapel were 
 interred some of the Paslews of Wiswall, and here 
 lay the last unfortunate Abbot of Whalley, between 
 whose grave, and the Assheton and Braddyll 'families, 
 a fatal relation was supposed to subsist. Another 
 large pew, allotted to the Towneleys, and designated 
 Saint Anthony's Cage, was rendered remarkable, by a 
 characteristic speech of Sir John Towneley, which gave 
 much offence to the neighbouring dames. Called upon 
 to decide as to the position of the sittings in the 
 church, the discourteous knight made choice of Saint 
 Anthony's Cage, already mentioned, declaring, " My 
 man Shuttle worth, of Hacking, made this form, and 
 here will I sit when I come, and my cousin Nowell 
 may make a seat behind me if he please, and my son 
 Sherburne shall make one on the other side, and 
 Master Catteral another behind him, and for the 
 residue the use shall be, first come first speed, and 
 that will make the proud wives of Whalley rise 
 betimes to come to church." One can fancy the rough 
 knight's chuckle, as he addressed these words to the 
 old clerk, certain of their being quickly repeated to the 
 " proud wives" in question. 
 
 Within the church-yard grew two fine old yew trees, 
 now long since decayed and gone, but then spreading 
 their dark green arms over the little turf-covered 
 graves. Reared against the buttresses of the church
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 2 13 
 
 was an old stone coffin, together with a fragment of 
 a curious monumental effigy, likewise of stone ; but 
 the most striking objects in the place, and deser- 
 vedly ranked amongst the wonders of Whalley, were 
 three remarkable obelisk- shaped crosses, set in a 
 line upon pedestals, covered with singular devices 
 in fretwork, and all three differing in size and design. 
 Evidently of remotest antiquity, these crosses were 
 traditionally assigned to Paullinus, who, according 
 to the Venerable Bede, first preached the Gospel in 
 these parts, in the early part of the seventh century ; 
 but other legends were attached to them by the vulgar, 
 and dim mystery brooded over them. 
 
 Vestiges of another people and another faith were 
 likewise here discernible, for where the Saxon fore- 
 fathers of the village prayed and slumbered in death, 
 the Roman invaders of the isle had trodden and per- 
 chance performed their religious rites; some traces of an 
 encampment being found in the church- yard by the his- 
 torian of the spot, while the north boundary of the 
 hallowed precincts was formed by a deep foss, once en- 
 compassing the nigh-obliterated fortification. Besides 
 these records of an elder people, there was another me- 
 mento of by-gone days and creeds in a little hermitage 
 and chapel adjoining it, founded in the reign of Edward 
 III., by Henry, Duke of Lancaster, for the support of 
 two recluses and a priest to say masses daily for him 
 and his descendants; but this pious bequest being grie- 
 vously abused in the subsequent reign of Henry VI., 
 by Isole de Heton, a fair widow, who in the first
 
 214 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 transports of grief, vowing herself to Heaven, took 
 up her abode in the hermitage, and led a very disor- 
 derly life therein, to the great scandal of the abbey, 
 and the great prejudice of the morals of its brethren, and 
 at last, tired even of the slight restraint imposed upon 
 her, fled away u contrary to her oath and profession, 
 not willing, nor intending to be restored again;" the 
 hermitage was dissolved by the pious monarch, and 
 masses ordered to be said daily in the parish church 
 for the repose of the soul of the founder. Such 
 was the legend attached to the little cell, and tradition 
 went on to say that the anchoress broke her leg in cross- 
 ing Wh alley Nab, and limped ever afterwards; a just 
 judgment on such a heinous offender. Both these little 
 structures were picturesque objects, being overgrown 
 with ivy and woodbine. The chapel was completely 
 in ruins, while the cell, profaned by the misdoings of 
 the dissolute votaress Isole, had been converted into a 
 cage for vagrants and offenders, and made secure by a 
 grated window, and a strong door studded with broad- 
 headed nails. 
 
 The view from the church-yard, embracing the vi- 
 carage-house, a comfortable residence, surrounded by a 
 large walled-in garden, well stocked with fruit trees, and 
 sheltered by a fine grove of rook-haunted timber, ex- 
 tended on the one hand over the village, and on the other 
 over the Abbey, and was bounded by the towering 
 and well-wooded heights of Whalley Nab. On the side 
 of the Abbey, the most conspicuous objects were the 
 great north-eastern gateway with the ruined conventual
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 215 
 
 church. Ever beautiful, the view was especially so on 
 the present occasion, from the animated scene combined 
 with it; and the pleasant prospect was enjoyed by a large 
 assemblage, who had adjourned thither to witness the 
 concluding part of the festival. 
 
 Within the green and flower-decked bowers which, 
 as has before been mentioned, were erected in the church- 
 yard, were seated Doctor Ormerod, and Sir Ralph 
 Assheton, with such of their respective guests as had 
 not already retired, including Richard and Nicholas 
 Assheton, both of whom had returned from the Abbey; 
 the former having been dismissed by Lady Assheton 
 from further attendance upon Alizon, and the latter 
 having concluded his discourse with Parson Dewhurst, 
 who, indeed, accompanied him to the church, and 
 was now placed between the Vicar and the Rector 
 of Middleton. From this gentle elevation the gay 
 company on the green could be fully discerned, the 
 tall May Pole, with its garlands and ribands, forming 
 a pivot, about which the throng ever revolved, while 
 stationary amidst the moving masses, the rush-cart 
 reared on high its broad green back, as if to resist the 
 living waves constantly dashed against it. By-and-by 
 a new kind of movement was perceptible, and it soon be- 
 came evident that a procession was being formed. Im- 
 mediately afterwards the rush-cart was put in motion, 
 and winded slowly along the narrow street lead- 
 ing to the church, preceded by the morris-dancers and 
 the other May Day revellers, and followed by a great 
 concourse of people, shouting, dancing, and singing.
 
 216 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 On came the crowd. The jingling of belis, and the 
 sound of music grew louder and louder, and the 
 procession, lost for awhile behind some intervening 
 habitations, though the men bestriding the rush-cart 
 could be discerned over their summits, burst sud- 
 denly into view ; and the revellers entering the church- 
 yard, drew up on either side of the little path leading 
 to the porch, while the rush-cart coming up the 
 next moment, stopped at the gate. Then four young 
 maidens dressed in white, and having baskets in their 
 hands, advanced and scattered flowers along the path ; 
 after which ladders were reared against the sides of the 
 rush-cart, and the men descending from their exalted 
 position, bore the garlands to the church, preceded 
 by the vicar and the two other divines, and followed by 
 Robin Hood and his band, the morris -dancers, and a troop 
 of little children singing a hymn. The next step was 
 to unfasten the bundles of rushes, of which the cart was 
 composed, and this was very quickly and skilfully per- 
 formed, the utmost care being taken of the trinkets 
 and valuables with which it was ornamented. These 
 were gathered together in baskets and conveyed to the 
 vestry, and there locked up. This done, the bundles 
 of rushes were taken up by several old women, who 
 strewed the aisles with them, and placed such as had 
 been tied up as mats in the pews. At the same time, 
 two casks of ale set near the gate, and given for the 
 occasion by the vicar, were broached, and their foaming 
 contents freely distributed among the dancers and the 
 thirsty crowd. Very merry were they, as may be
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 217 
 
 supposed, in consequence, but their mirth was hap- 
 pily kept within due limits of decorum. 
 
 When the rush-cart was well niedi unladen Richard 
 Assheton entered the church, and greatly pleased with 
 the effect of the flowery garlands with which the 
 various pews were decorated, said as much to the 
 vicar, who smilingly replied, that he was glad 
 to find he approved of the practice, " even though 
 it might savour of superstition;" and, as the good 
 doctor walked away, being called forth, the young man 
 almost unconsciously turned into the chapel on the 
 north aisle. Here he stood for a few moments gazing 
 round the church, wrapt in pleasing meditation, in 
 which many objects, somewhat foreign to the place and 
 time, passed through his mind, when, chancing to 
 look down, he saw a small funeral wreath, of mingled 
 yew and cypress, lying at his feet, and a slight tremor 
 passed over his frame, as he found he was standing on 
 the ill-omened grave of Abbot Paslew. Before he could 
 ask himself by whom this sad garland had been so 
 deposited, Nicholas Assheton came up to him, and with 
 a look of great uneasiness cried " Come away instantly, 
 Dick. Do you know where you are standing ?" 
 
 " On the grave of the last Abbot of Whalley," replied 
 Richard, smiling. 
 
 " Have you forgotten the common saying," cried 
 Nicholas, — " that the Assheton who stands on that 
 unlucky grave shall die within the year ? Come away
 
 218 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " It is too late," replied Richard, " I have incurred 
 the fate, if such a fate be attached to the tomb, and 
 as my moving away will not preserve me, so my 
 tarrying here cannot injure me further. But I have no 
 fear." 
 
 11 You have more courage than I possess," rejoined 
 Nicholas. (i I would not set foot on that accursed 
 stone for half the county. Its malign influence on our 
 house has been approved too often. The first to ex- 
 perience the fatal destiny were Richard Assheton and 
 John Braddyll, the purchasers of the Abbey. Both 
 met here together on the anniversary of the Abbot's 
 execution — some forty years after its occurrence, it is 
 true, and when they were both pretty well stricken in 
 years — and within that year, namely 1578, both died, 
 and were buried in the vault on the opposite side 
 of the church, not many paces from their old ene- 
 my. The last instance was my poor brother Richard, 
 who, being incredulous as you are, was resolved to brave 
 the destiny, and stationed himself upon the tomb during 
 divine service, but he too died within the appointed 
 time." 
 
 " He was bewitched to death — so, at least, it is 
 affirmed," said Richard Assheton, with a smile. " But 
 I believe in one evil influence just as much as in the 
 other." 
 
 " It matters not how the destiny be accomplished, 
 so it come to pass," rejoined the squire, turning away. 
 " Heaven shield you from it !"
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCIIES. 219 
 
 " Stay !" said Richard, picking up the wreath. 
 " Who think you can have placed this funeral garland 
 on the Abbot's grave ?" 
 
 " I cannot guess !" cried Nicholas, staring at it, in 
 amazement — " an enemy of ours, most likely. It is 
 neither customary nor lawful in our Protestant country 
 so to ornament graves. Put it down, Dick." 
 
 " I shall not displace it, certainly," replied Richard, 
 laying it down again ; "but I as little think it has 
 been placed here by a hostile hand, as I do that harm 
 will ensue to me from standing here. To relieve your 
 anxiety, however, I will come forth," he added, step- 
 ping into the aisle. " Why should an enemy deposit 
 a garland on the abbot's tomb, since it was by mere 
 chance that it hath met my eyes ?" 
 
 "Mere chance!" cried Nicholas; "every thing is 
 mere chance with you philosophers. There is more than 
 chance in it. My mind misgives me strangely. That 
 terrible old Abbot Paslew is as troublesome to us in 
 death, as he was during life to our predecessor, Richard 
 Assheton. Not content with making his tombstone a 
 weapon of destruction to us, he pays the Abbey itself 
 an occasional visit, and his appearance always betides 
 some disaster to the family. I have never seen him 
 myself, and trust I never shall; but other people have, 
 and have been nigh scared out of their senses by the 
 apparition." 
 
 "Idle tales, the invention of over-heated brains," re- 
 joined Richard. "Trust me, the abbot's rest will not
 
 220 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 be broken till the day when all shall rise from their 
 tombs ; though if ever the dead (supposing such a 
 thing possible) could be justified in injuring and 
 affrighting the living, it might be in his case, since 
 he mainly owed his destruction to our ancestor. On 
 the same principle it has been held that church-lands 
 are unlucky to their lay-possessors, but see how this 
 superstitious notion has been disproved in our own 
 family, to whom Whalley Abbey and its domains have 
 brought wealth, power, and worldly happiness." 
 
 " There is something in the notion, nevertheless," 
 replied Nicholas, " and though our case may, I hope, 
 continue an exception to the rule, most grantees of 
 ecclesiastical houses have found them a curse, and 
 the time may come when the Abbey may prove so to 
 our descendants. But without discussing the point, 
 there is one instance in which the malignant influence of 
 the vindictive abbot has undoubtedly extended long 
 after his death. You have heard, I suppose, that he 
 pronounced a dreadful anathema upon the child of a 
 man who had the reputation of being a wizard, and 
 who afterwards acted as his executioner. I know not 
 the whole particulars of the dark story, but I know 
 that Paslew fixed a curse upon the child, declaring it 
 should become a witch, and the mother of witches. 
 And the prediction has been verified. Nigh eighty 
 years have flown by since then, and the infant still lives 
 — a fearful and mischievous witch — and all her family 
 are similarly fated — all are witches."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 221 
 
 " I never heard the story before,' ' said Richard, 
 somewhat thoughtfully; "but I guess to whom you 
 allude — Mother Demdike, of Pendle Forest, and her 
 family." 
 
 "Precisely," rejoined Nicholas, ''they are a brood of 
 witches." 
 
 "In that case Alizon Device must be a witch, 5 ' cried 
 Richard; "and I think you will hardly venture upon 
 such an assertion after what you have seen of her to-day. 
 If she be a witch, I would there were many such — as fair 
 and gentle. And see you not how easily the matter 
 is explained? 'Give a dog an ill name and hang him' 
 — a proverb with which you are familiar enough. So 
 with Mother Demdike. Whether really uttered or not, the 
 abbot's curse upon her and her issue has been bruited 
 abroad, and hence she is made a witch, and her chil- 
 dren are supposed to inherit the infamous taint. So it is 
 with yon tomb. It is said to be dangerous to our family, 
 and dangerous no doubt it is to those who believe in 
 the saying, which, luckily, I do not. The prophecy 
 works its own fulfilment. The absurdity and injustice 
 of yielding to the opinion are manifest. No wrong can 
 have been done the abbot by Mother Demdike, any 
 more than by her children, and yet they are to be 
 punished for the misdeeds of their predecessor." 
 
 " Ay, just as you and I, who are of the third and 
 fourth generation, may be punished for the sins of our 
 fathers/' rejoined Nicholas. "You have Scripture 
 against you, Dick. The only thing I see in favour
 
 222 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 of your argument is, the instance you allege of 
 Alizon. She does not look like a witch, certainly; 
 but there is no saying. She may be only the more 
 dangerous for her rare beauty, and apparent inno- 
 cence !" 
 
 " I would answer for her truth with my life," cried 
 Richard, quickly. " It is impossible to look at her coun- 
 tenance, in which candour and purity shine forth, and 
 doubt her goodness." 
 
 " She hath cast her spells over you, Dick, that is 
 certain," rejoined Nicholas, laughing; "but to be 
 serious. Alizon, I admit, is an exception to the rest of 
 the family, but that only strengthens the general rule. 
 Did you ever remark the strange look they all — save 
 the fair maid in question — have about the eyes?" 
 
 Richard answered in the negative. 
 
 " It is very singular, and I wonder you have not 
 noticed it," pursued Nicholas ; " but the question 
 of reputed witchcraft in Mother Demdike has some 
 chance of being speedily settled; for Master Potts, the 
 little London lawyer, who goes with us to Pendle 
 Forest to-morrow, is about to have her arrested and 
 examined before a magistrate." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed Richard, " this must be pre- 
 vented." 
 
 "Why so ?" exclaimed Nicholas, in surprise. 
 
 " Because the prejudice existing against her is 
 sure to convict and destroy her," replied Richard. 
 u Her great age, infirmities, and poverty, will be proofs
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 223 
 
 against her. How can she, or any old enfeebled crea- 
 ture like her, whose decrepitude and misery should 
 move compassion rather than excite fear — how can 
 such a person defend herself against charges easily 
 made and impossible to refute ? I do not deny 
 the possibility of witchcraft, even in our own days, 
 though I think it of very unlikely occurrence ; but I 
 would determinately resist giving credit to any tales told 
 by the superstitious vulgar, who naturally prone to 
 cruelty, have so many motives for revenging imaginary 
 wrongs. It is placing a dreadful weapon in their hands, 
 of which they have cunning enough to know the use, 
 but neither mercy nor justice enough to restrain them 
 from using it. Better let one guilty person escape, than 
 many innocent perish. So many undefined charges 
 have been brought against Mother Demdike, that at last 
 they have fixed a stigma on her name, and made her an 
 object of dread and suspicion. She is endowed with 
 mysterious power, which would have no effect if not 
 believed in; and now must be burned because she is 
 called a witch, and is doting and vain enough to accept 
 the title." 
 
 " There is something in a witch difficult, nay, 
 almost impossible to describe," said Nicholas, " but you 
 cannot be mistaken about her. By her general ill 
 course of life, by repeated acts of mischief, and by 
 threats, followed by the consequences menaced, she 
 becomes known. There is much mystery in the matter, 
 not permitted human knowledge entirely to pene-
 
 224 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 trate ; but, as we know from the Scriptures that 
 the sin of witchcraft did exist, and as we have no 
 evidence that it has ceased, so it is fair to conclude, 
 that there may be practisers of the dark offence in our 
 own days, and such I hold to be Mother Demdike and 
 Mother Chattox. Rival potentates in evil, they con- 
 tend which shall do most mischief, but it must be ad- 
 mitted the former bears away the bell." 
 
 " If all the ill attributed to her were really caused by 
 her machinations, this might be correct," replied Richard, 
 " but it only shows her to be more calumniated than 
 the other. In a word, cousin Nicholas, I look upon them 
 as two poor old creatures who, persuaded they really 
 possess the supernatural power accorded to them by 
 the vulgar, strive to act up to their parts, and are 
 mainly assisted in doing so by the credulity and fears 
 of their audience." 
 
 u Admitting the blind credulity of the multitude," 
 said Nicholas, " and their proneness to discern the 
 hand of the witch in the most trifling accidents ; 
 admitting also, their readiness to accuse any old 
 crone unlucky enough to offend them of sorcery ; I 
 still believe that there are actual practisers of the black 
 art, who, for a brief term of power, have entered into a 
 league with Satan, worship him and attend his sabbaths, 
 and have a familiar, in the shape of a cat, dog, toad, or 
 mole, to obey their behests, transform themselves into 
 various shapes — as a hound, horse, or hare, — raise storms 
 of wind or hail, maim cattle, bewitch and slay human
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 225 
 
 beings, and ride whither they will on broomsticks. But 
 holding the contrary opinion, you will not, I appre- 
 hend, aid Master Potts in his quest of witches." 
 
 "I will not," rejoined Richard. " On the contrary, 
 I will oppose him. But enough of this. Let us go 
 forth." 
 
 And they quitted the church together. 
 
 As they issued into the church-yard, they found the 
 principal arbours occupied by the morris-dancers, Robin 
 Hood and his troop, Doctor Ormerod and Sir Ralph 
 having retired to the vicarage-house. 
 
 Many merry groups were scattered about, talking, 
 laughing, and singing ; but two persons, seemingly 
 objects of suspicion and alarm, and shunned by every 
 one who crossed their path, were advancing slowly 
 towards the three crosses of Paullinus, which stood in a 
 line, not far from the church-porch. They were females, 
 one about hve-and- twenty, very comely, and habited 
 in smart holiday attire, put on with considerable rustic 
 coquetry, so as to display a very neat foot and ankle, 
 and with plenty of ribands in her fine chestnut hair. 
 The other was a very different person, far advanced in 
 years, bent almost double, palsy-stricken, her arms and 
 limbs shaking, her head nodding, her chin wagging 1 , 
 her snowy locks hanging about her wrinkled visage, her 
 brows and upper lip frore, and her eyes almost sightless, 
 the pupils being cased with a thin white film. Her dress, 
 of antiquated make, and faded stuff, had been once deep 
 red in colour, and her old black hat was high-crowned 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 and broad-brimmed. She partly aided Herself in walk- 
 ing with a crutch-handled stick, and partly leaned upon 
 her younger companion for support. 
 
 1 ' Why, there is one of the old women we have just been 
 speaking of — Mother Chattox," said Richard, pointing 
 them out, " and with her, her grand-daughter, pretty 
 Nan Redferne." 
 
 " So it is," cried Nicholas, " what makes the old hag 
 here, I marvel ! I will go question her." 
 
 So saying, he strode quickly towards her. 
 
 " How now, Mother Chattox!" he cried. " What 
 mischief is afoot? What makes the darkness -lo vino; 
 owl abroad in the glare of day ? What brings the 
 grisly she-wolf from her forest lair ? Back to thy den, 
 old witch. Ar't crazed as well as blind and palsied, 
 that thou knowest not that this is a merry-making, and 
 not a devil's sabbath ? Back to thy hut, I say ! These 
 sacred precincts are no place for thee." 
 
 " Who is it speaks to me?' 5 demanded the old hag, 
 halting, and fixing her glazed eyes upon him. 
 
 " One thou hast much injured," replied Nicholas. 
 " One into whose house thou hast brought quick- 
 wasting sickness and death by thy infernal arts. One 
 thou hast good reason to fear, for learn to thy confusion, 
 thou damned and murtherous witch, it is Nicholas, 
 brother to thy victim, Richard Assheton of Downham, 
 who speaks to thee." 
 
 " I know none I have reason to fear," replied Mother 
 Chattox; "especially thee, Nicholas Assheton. Thy
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 227 
 
 brother was no victim of mine. Thou wert the gainer 
 by his death, not I. Why should I slay him ?" 
 
 " I will tell thee why old hag," cried Nicholas; w he 
 was inflamed by the beauty of thy grand-daughter 
 Nancy here, and it was to please Tom Redferne, her 
 sweetheart then, but her spouse since, that thou be- 
 witchedst him to death." 
 
 " That reason will not avail thee, Nicholas," re- 
 joined Mother Chattox, with a derisive laugh. " If 
 I had any hand in his death, it was to serve and 
 pleasure thee, and that all men shall know, if I am 
 questioned on the subject — ha ! ha ! Take me to the 
 crosses, Nance." 
 
 "Thou shalt not 'scape thus, thou murtherous hag," 
 cried Nicholas, furiously. 
 
 " Nay, let her go her way," said Richard, who had 
 drawn near during the colloquy. " No good will come 
 of meddling with her." 
 
 " Who's that?" asked Mother Chattox, quickly. 
 
 " Master Richard Assheton, o' Micldleton," whis- 
 pered Nan Redferne. 
 
 " Another of these accursed Asshetons," cried 
 Mother Chattox. " A plague seize them !" 
 
 " Boh he's weel-favourt an kindly," remarked her 
 grand-daughter. 
 
 " Well-favoured or not, kindly or cruel, I hate 
 them all," cried Mother Chattox. " To the crosses, I 
 say." 
 
 But Nicholas placed himself in their path. 
 Q2
 
 228 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 "Is it to pray to Beelzebub, thy master, that thou 
 wouldst go to the crosses ?" he asked. 
 
 " Out of my way, pestilent fool I" cried the hag. 
 
 " Thou slialt not stir till I have had an answer," re- 
 joined Nicholas. " They say those are Runic obelisks, 
 and not Christian crosses, and that the carvings upon 
 them have a magical signification. The first, it is 
 averred, is written o'er with deadly curses, and the 
 forms in which they are traced, as serpentine, triangular, 
 or round, indicate and rule their swift or slow effect. 
 The second bears charms against diseases, storms, and 
 lightning. And on the third is inscribed a verse which 
 will render him who can read it rightly, invisible to 
 mortal view. Thou shoulclst be learned in such lore, 
 old Pythoness. Is it so?" 
 
 The hag's chin wagged fearfully, and her frame 
 trembled with passion, but she spoke not. 
 
 " Have you been in the church, old woman?" inter- 
 posed Richard. 
 
 "Ay, wherefore?" she rejoined. 
 
 " Some one has placed a cypress wreath on Abbot 
 Paslew's grave. Was it you ?" he asked. 
 
 "What! hast thou found it?" cried the hag. "It 
 shall bring thee rare luck, lad — rare luck. Now let 
 me pass." 
 
 " Not yet," cried Nicholas, forcibly grasping her 
 withered arm. 
 
 The hao* uttered a scream of ra^e. 
 
 " Let me go, Nicholas Assheton," she shrieked, " or
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 229 
 
 thou shalt rue it. Cramps and aches shall wring and 
 rack thy flesh and bones ; fever shall consume thee ; 
 ague shake thee — shake thee — ha !" 
 
 And Nicholas recoiled, appalled by her fearful ges- 
 tures. 
 
 " You carry your malignity too far, old woman/' 
 said Richard, severely. 
 
 " And thou darest tell me so ?" cried the hag. 
 11 Set me before him, Nance, that I may curse him," 
 she added, raising her palsied arm. 
 
 " Nali, nah — yo'n cursed ower much already, grand- 
 mother," cried Nan Redferne, endeavouring to drag her 
 away. But the old woman resisted. 
 
 u I will teach him to cross my path," she vociferated, 
 in accents shrill and jarring as the cry of the goat-sucker. 
 " Handsome he is, it may be now, but he shall not ba 
 so long. The bloom shall fade from his cheek, the fire 
 be extinguished in his eyes, the strength depart from 
 his limbs. Sorrow shall be her portion who loves him 
 — sorrow and shame !" 
 
 u Horrible !" exclaimed Richard, endeavouring to 
 exclude the voice of the crone, which pierced his ears 
 like some sharp instrument. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! you fear me now," she cried. " By this, 
 and this, the spell shall work," she added, describing a 
 circle in the air with her stick, then crossing it twice. 
 and finally scattering over him a handful of grave-dust, 
 snatched from an adjoining hillock. " Now lead me 
 quickly to the smaller cross, Nance," she added, in o 
 low tone.
 
 230 THE LANCASHIKE WITCHES. 
 
 Her grand- daughter complied, with a glance of deep 
 commiseration at Richard, who remained stupified at the 
 ominous proceeding. 
 
 " Ah ! this must indeed be a witch!" he cried, reco- 
 vering from the momentary shock. 
 
 " So you are convinced at last," rejoined Nicholas. 
 u I can take breath now the old hell-cat is gone. But 
 she shall not escape us. Keep an eye upon her, while I 
 see if Simon Sparshot, the beadle, be within the church- 
 yard, and if so he shall take her into custody, and lock 
 her in the cage." 
 
 With this, he ran towards the throng, shouting 
 lustily for the beadle. Presently a big, burly fellow, in 
 a scarlet doublet, laced with gold, a black velvet 
 cap trimmed with red ribands, yellow hose, and shoes 
 with great roses in them, and bearing a long silver- 
 headed staff, answered the summons, and upon being 
 told why his services were required, immediately roared 
 out at the top of a stentorian voice, " A witch, lads ! — 
 a witch I" 
 
 All was astir in an instant. Robin Hood and his 
 merry men, with the morris-dancers, rushed out of their 
 bowers, and the whole church-yard was in agitation. 
 Above the din was heard the loud voice of Simon 
 Sparshot, still shouting, "A witch ! — a witch ! — Mother 
 Chattox !" 
 
 " Where — where?" demanded several voices. 
 ' : Yonder," replied Nicholas, pointing to the further 
 cross. 
 
 A general movement took place in that direction, the
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 231 
 
 crowd being headed by the squire and the beadle, but 
 when they came up, they found only Nan Redferne 
 standing behind the obelisk. 
 
 ct Where the devil is the old witch gone, Dick ?" cried 
 Nicholas, in dismay. 
 
 " I thought I saw her standing there with her 
 grand-daughter/' replied Richard; "but in truth I did 
 not watch very closely." 
 
 " Search for her — search for her," cried Nicholas. 
 
 But neither behind the crosses, nor behind any 
 monument, nor in any hole or corner, nor on the other 
 side of the church-yard wall, nor at the back of the 
 little hermitage or chapel, though all were quickly 
 examined, could the old hag be found. 
 
 On being questioned, Nan Redferne refused to say 
 aught concerning her grandmother's flight or place of 
 concealment. 
 
 "I beinn to think there is some truth in that 
 strange legend of the cross," said Nicholas. " Not- 
 withstanding her blindness, the old hag must have 
 managed to read the magic verse upon it, and so have 
 rendered herself invisible. But we have got the young 
 witch safe." 
 
 " Yeigh, squoire I" responded Sparshot, who had 
 seized hold of Nance — " hoo be safe enough." 
 
 " Nan Redferne is no witch," said Richard Asshcton, 
 authoritatively. 
 
 "Neaw witch, Mcster Ruchot!" cried the beadle, in 
 amazement.
 
 232 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " No more than any of these lasses around us," said 
 Richard. " Release her, Sparshot." 
 
 " I forbid him to do so, till she has been examined," 
 cried a sharp voice. And the next moment Master 
 Potts was seen pushing his way through the crowd, 
 " So you have found a witch, my masters. I heard 
 your shouts, and hurried on as fast as I could. Just 
 in time, Master Nicholas — just in time," he added, 
 rubbing his hands gleefully. 
 
 "Lemme go, Simon/' besought Nance. 
 
 " Neaw, neaw, lass, that munnot be," rejoined Spar- 
 shot. 
 
 " Help — save me, Master Richard !" cried the young 
 woman. 
 
 By this time the crowd had gathered round her, yell • 
 ing, hooting, and shaking their hands at her, as if about 
 to tear her in pieces; but Richard Assheton planted 
 himself resolutely before her, and pushed back the 
 foremost of them. 
 
 " Remove her instantly to the Abbey, Sparshot," 
 he cried, " and let her be kept in safe custody till Sir 
 Ralph has time to examine her. Will that content 
 you, masters ?" 
 
 " Neaw — neaw," responded several rough voices, 
 " swim her ! — swim her !" 
 
 " Quite right, my worthy friends, quite right," said 
 Potts. " Primoj let us make 'sure she is a witch — 
 secundo, let us take her to the Abbey." 
 
 " There can be no doubt as to her being a witch,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 233 
 
 Master Potts," rejoined Nicholas; u her old grand- 
 dame, Mother Chattox, has just vanished from our 
 sight." 
 
 11 Has Mother Chattox been here?" cried Potts, 
 opening his round eyes to their widest extent. 
 
 " Not many minutes since," replied Nicholas. " In 
 fact, she may be here still for aught I know." 
 
 "Here! — where?" cried Potts, looking round. 
 
 " You won't discover her, for all your quickness," 
 replied Nicholas. " She has rendered herself invisible, 
 by reciting the magical verses inscribed on that cross." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed the attorney, closely examining 
 the mysterious inscriptions. " What strange, uncouth 
 characters ! I can make neither head nor tail, unless 
 it be the devil's tail, of them." 
 
 At this moment, a whoop was raised by Jem 
 Device, who, having taken his little sister home, had 
 returned to the sports on the green, and now formed 
 part of the assemblage in the church-yard. Between 
 the rival witch potentates, Mothers Demdike and Chat- 
 tox, it has already been said, a deadly enmity existed, 
 and the feud was carried on with equal animosity by 
 their descendants ; and though Jem himself came under 
 the same suspicion as Nan Redferne, that circumstance 
 created no tie of interest between them, but the con- 
 trary, and he was the most active of her assailants. 
 He had set up the above-mentioned cry from observing 
 a large rat running along the side of the wall. 
 
 "Theerehoo goes," whooped Jem, u t' owd witch, i* 
 th' shape ov a rotten ! — loo-loo -loo!"
 
 234 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 Half the crowd started in pursuit of the animal, 
 and twenty sticks were thrown at it, hut a stone cast 
 by Jem, stayed its progress, and it was instantly 
 despatched. It did not change, however, as was 
 expected by the credulous hinds, into an old woman, 
 and they gave vent to their disappointment and rage 
 in renewed threats against Nan Redferne. The dead 
 rat was hurled at her by Jem, but missing its mark, it 
 hit Master Potts on the head, and nearly knocked him 
 off the cross, upon which he had mounted to obtain 
 a better view of the proceedings. Irritated by this cir- 
 cumstance, as well as by the failure of the experiment, the 
 little attorney jumped down, and fell to kicking the un- 
 fortunate rat, after which, his fury being somewhat ap- 
 peased, he turned to Nance, who had sunk for support 
 against the pedestal, and said to her — " If you will 
 tell us what has become of the old witch your grand- 
 mother, and undertake to bear witness against her, you 
 shall be set free." 
 
 M Ey'n tell ye nowt, mon," replied Nance, doggedly. 
 " Put me to onny trial ye like, ye shanna get a word 
 fro me." 
 
 " That remains to be seen," retorted Potts, " but I ap- 
 prehend we shall make you speak, and pretty plainly 
 too, before we've done with you. — You hear what 
 this perverse and wrong-headed young witch declares, 
 masters," he shouted, again clambering upon the cross. 
 " I have offered her liberty, on condition of disclosing 
 to us the manner of her diabolical old relative's 
 evasion, and she rejects it."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 235 
 
 An angry roar followed, mixed with cries, from Jem 
 Device, of " swim her ! — swim her." 
 
 " You had better tell them what you know, Nance," 
 said Richard, in a low tone, "oar I shall have difficulty 
 in preserving you from their fury." 
 
 "Eydarena, Master Richard," she replied, shaking 
 her head; and then she added, firmly, " Ey winna." 
 
 Finding it useless to reason with her, and fearing 
 also that the infuriated crowd might attempt to put 
 their threats into execution, Richard turned to his 
 cousin Nicholas, and said: " We must get her away, or 
 violence will be done." 
 
 "She does not deserve your compassion, Dick," 
 replied Nicholas ; " she is only a few degrees better 
 than the old hag who has escaped. Sparshot here tells 
 me she is noted for her skill in modelling clay figures." 
 
 11 Yeigh, that hoobe," replied the broad-faced beadle ; 
 " hoo's unaccountable cliver ot that sort o' wark. A 
 clay figger os big os a six months' barn, fashiont i' th' 
 likeness o' Farmer Grimble, o' Briercliffe lawnd, os 
 died last month, war seen i' her cottage, an monny 
 others besoide. Amongst 'em a moddle o' your la- 
 mented brother, Squoirc Ruchot Assheton o' Downham, 
 wi' t' yeod pood off, an th 1 'eart pierct thro' an' thro' 
 wi' pins and needles." 
 
 11 Ye lien i' your teeth, Simon Sparshot !" cried 
 Nance, regarding him furiously. 
 
 " If the head were off, Simon, I don't sec how the 
 likeness to my poor brother could well be recognised,"
 
 236 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 said. Nicholas, with a half-smile. u - But let her be put 
 to some mild trial — weighed against the church Bible/ 
 
 " Be it so," replied Potts, jumping down ; " but if 
 that fail, we must have recourse to stronger measures. 
 Take notice that, with all her fright, she has not been 
 able to shed a tear, not a single tear — a clear witch 
 — a clear witch !" 
 
 u Ey'd scorn to weep fo t' like o' yo I" cried Nance, 
 disdainfully, having now completely recovered her 
 natural audacity. 
 
 " We'll soon break your spirit, young woman, I can 
 promise you," rejoined Potts. 
 
 As soon as it was known what was about to 
 occur, the whole crowd moved towards the church- 
 porch, Nan Redferne walking between Richard Asshe- 
 ton and the beadle, who kept hold of her arm to 
 prevent any attempt at escape ; and by the time they 
 reached the appointed place, Ben Baggiley, the baker, 
 who had been despatched for the purpose, appeared with 
 an enormous pair of wooden scales, while Sampson 
 Harrop, the clerk, having visited the pulpit, came forth 
 with the church Bible, an immense volume, bound in 
 black, with great silver clasps. 
 
 " Come, that's a good big Bible at all events," cried 
 Potts, eyeing it with satisfaction. " It looks like my 
 honourable and singular good Lord Chief Justice Sir 
 Edward Coke's learned ' Institutes of the Laws of 
 England,' only that that great legal tome is generally 
 bound in calf — law- calf, as we say." 
 
 "Large as the book is it will scarce prove heavy
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 237 
 
 enough to weigh down the witch, I opine," observed 
 Nicholas, with a smile. 
 
 " We shall see, sir," replied Potts. " We shall see." 
 
 By this time, the scales having been affixed to a 
 hook in the porch by Baggiley, the sacred volume was 
 placed on one side, and Nance set down by the beadle 
 on the other. The result of the experiment was pre- 
 cisely what might have been anticipated — the moment 
 the young woman took her place in the balance, it 
 sank down to the ground, while the other kicked the 
 beam. 
 
 " I hope you are satisfied now, Master Potts," cried 
 Richard Assheton. " By your own trial her innocence 
 is approved." 
 
 " Your pardon, Master Richard, this is Squire Ni- 
 cholas's trial, not mine,' , replied Potts. " I am for the 
 ordeal of swimming. How say you, masters ! Shall we 
 be content with this doubtful experiment ?" 
 
 " Neaw — neaw," responded Jem Device, who acted as 
 spokesman to the crowd, " swim her — swim her." 
 
 u I knew you would have it so," said Potts, 
 approvingly. " Where is a fitting place for the trial? 1 ' 
 
 " Th' Abbey pool is nah fur off," replied Jem, 
 " or ye con tay her to th' Calder." 
 
 •• The river, by all means — nothing like a running 
 stream," said Potts. "Let cords be procured to bind her." 
 
 "Bun fo 'em quickly, Ben," said Jem to Baggiley, 
 who was very zealous in the cause. 
 
 "Oh!" groaned Nance, again losing courage, and 
 glancing piteously at Richard.
 
 238 THE LANCASHIEE WITCHES. 
 
 " No outrage like this shall be perpetrated," cried the 
 young man, firmly; " I call upon you, cousin Nicholas, 
 to help me. Go into the church," he added, thrusting 
 Nance backward, and presenting his sword at the breast 
 of Jem Device, who attempted to follow her, and who 
 retired muttering threats and curses. " I will run the 
 first man through the body who attempts to pass." 
 
 As Nan Redferne made good her retreat, and shut the 
 church-door after her, Master Potts, pale with rage, cried 
 out to Richard, " You have aided the escape of a despe- 
 rate and notorious offender — actually in custody, sir, 
 and have rendered yourself liable to indictment for it, 
 sir, with consequences of fine and imprisonment, sir- 
 heavy fine and long imprisonment, sir. Do you mark 
 me, Master Richard?" 
 
 " I will answer the consequences of my act to those 
 empowered to question it, sir," replied Richard, sternly. 
 
 a Well, sir, I have given you notice," rejoined Potts, 
 " due notice. We shall hear what Sir Ralph will say 
 to the matter, and Master Roger No well, and — " 
 
 " You forget me, good Master Potts," interrupted 
 Nicholas, laughingly; "I entirely disapprove of it. It 
 is a most flagrant breach of duty. Nevertheless, I am 
 glad the poor wench has got off." 
 
 " She is safe within the church," said Potts, "and 
 I command Master Richard, in the king's name, to let 
 us pass. Beadle! Sharpshot, Sparshot, or whatever 
 be your confounded name, do your duty, sirrah. Enter 
 the church, and bring forth the witch."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 239 
 
 "Ey darna, niester," replied Simon, "young mester 
 Rucliot ud slit mey weasand os soon os look ot meh." 
 
 Richard put an end to further altercation, by stepping 
 back quickly, locking the door, and then taking out the 
 key, and putting it into his pocket. 
 
 " She is quite safe now," he cried, with a smile at 
 the discomfited lawyer. 
 
 "Is there no other door?" inquired Potts of the 
 beadle, in a low one. 
 
 "Yeigh. theere been one ot t'other soide," replied 
 Sparshot, " boh it be locked, ey reckon, an maybe hoo'n 
 getten out that way." 
 
 " Quick, quick, and let's see," cried Potts, "justice 
 must not be thwarted in this shameful manner." 
 
 While the greater part of the crowd set off after Potts 
 and the beadle, Richard Assheton, anxious to know 
 what had become of the fugitive, and determined not to 
 abandon her while any danger existed, unlocked the 
 church door, and entered the holy structure, followed 
 by Nicholas. On looking around, Nance was no- 
 where to be seen, neither did she answer to his re- 
 peated calls, and Richard concluded she must have 
 escaped, when all at once a loud exulting shout was 
 heard without, leaving no doubt that the poor young 
 woman had again fallen into the hands of her captor?. 
 The next moment a sharp, piercing scream in a female 
 key confirmed the supposition. On hearing this cry, 
 Richard instantly flew to the opposite door, through 
 which Nance must have passed, but on trying it he found
 
 240 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 it fastened outside, and filled with sudden misgiving, for 
 he now recollected leaving the key in the other door, he 
 called to Nicholas to come with him, and hurried back to 
 it. His apprehensions were verified; the door was 
 locked. At first Nicholas was inclined to laugh 
 at the trick played them ; but a single look from 
 Richard checked his tendency to merriment, and he fol- 
 lowed his young relative, who had sprung to a window 
 looking upon that part of the church-yard whence the 
 shouts came, and flung it open. Richard's egress, how- 
 ever, was prevented by an iron bar, and he called out 
 loudly and fiercely to the beadle, whom he saw stand- 
 ing in the midst of the crowd, to unlock the door. 
 
 "Have a little patience, good Master Richard," 
 replied Potts, turning up his provoking little visage, 
 now charged with triumphant malice. " You shall 
 come out presently. We are busy just now — en- 
 gaged in binding the witch, as you see. Both keys are 
 safely in my pocket, and I will send you one of them 
 when we start for the river, good Master Richard. We 
 lawyers are not to be overreached you see — ha ! ha !" 
 
 " You shall repent this conduct when I do get out," 
 cried Richard, furiously. el Sparshot, I command you 
 to bring the key instantly." 
 
 But, encouraged by the attorney, the beadle affected 
 not to hear Richard's angry vociferations, and the others 
 were unable to aid the young man, if they had been so 
 disposed, and all were too much interested in what was 
 going forward to run off to the vicarage, and acquaint
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 241 
 
 Sir Ralph with the circumstances in which his relatives 
 "were placed, even though enjoined to do so. 
 
 On being set free by Richard, Nance had flown quickly 
 through the church, and passed out at the side door, 
 and was making good her retreat at the back of the 
 edifice, when her flying figure was descried by Jem 
 Device, who, failing in his first attempt, had run round 
 that way, fancying he should catch her. 
 
 He instantly dashed after her with all the fury of a 
 bloodhound, and being possessed of remarkable activity, 
 speedily overtook her, and, heedless of her threats and 
 entreaties, secured her. 
 
 M Lemme go, Jem," she cried, "an cy win do thee a 
 good turn one o' these days, when theaw may chonce to 
 be i' th' same strait os me." But seeing him inexorable, 
 she, added, " My grand-dame shan rack thy boans, 
 sorely, lad, for this." 
 
 Jem replied by a coarse laugh of defiance, and dragging 
 her along, delivered her to Master Potts and the beadle, 
 who were then hurrying to the other door of the church. 
 To prevent interruption, the cunning attorney, having 
 ascertained that the two Asshetons were inside, instantly 
 gave orders td have both doors locked, and the injunc- 
 tions being promptly obeyed, he took possession of the 
 keys himself, chuckling at the success of the stratagem. 
 11 A fair reprisal, 13 he muttered; "this young milksop 
 shall find he is no match for a skilful lawyer like me. 
 Now, the cords — the cords !" 
 
 It was at sight of the bonds, which were quickly 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 242 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 brought by Baggiley, that Nance uttered the piercing 
 cry that had roused Richard's indignation. Feeling se- 
 cure of his prisoner, and now no longer apprehensive of 
 interruption, Master Potts was in no hurry to conclude 
 the arrangements, but rather prolonged them to exas- 
 perate Richard. Little consideration was shown the 
 unfortunate captive. The new shoes and stockings of 
 which she had been so vain a short time before, were torn 
 from her feet and limbs by the rude hands of the re- 
 morseless Jem and the beadle, and bent down by the 
 main force of these two strong men, her thumbs and great 
 toes were tightly bound together, crosswise, by the cords. 
 The church-yard rang with her shrieks, and with his 
 blood boiling with indignation at the sight, Richard re- 
 doubled his exertions to burst through the window 
 and fly to her assistance. But, though Nicholas now 
 lent his powerful aid to the task, their combined efforts to 
 obtain liberation were unavailing ; and with rage almost 
 amounting to frenzy, Richard beheld the poor young 
 woman borne shrieking away by her captors. Nor 
 was Nicholas much less incensed, and he swore a 
 deep oath when he did get at liberty that Master 
 Potts should pay dearly for his rascally conduct.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 243 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE ORDEAL BY SWIMMING. 
 
 Bound hand and foot in the painful posture before- 
 described, roughly and insolently handled on all sides, 
 in peril of her life from the frightful ordeal to which 
 she was about to be subjected, the miserable captive 
 was borne alom? on the shoulders of Jem Device and 
 
 o 
 
 Sparshot, her long, fine chestnut hair trailing upon the 
 ground, her white shoulders exposed to the insolent gaze 
 of the crowd, and her trim holiday attire torn to rags 
 by the rough treatment she had experienced. Nance 
 Rcdferne, it has been said, was a very comely young 
 woman ; but neither her beauty, her youth, nor her sex, had 
 any effect upon the ferocious crowd, who were too much 
 accustomed to such brutal and debasing exhibitions to 
 feel any thing but savage delight in the spectacle of a 
 fellow-creature so scandalously treated and tormented, 
 and the only excuse to be offered for their bar- 
 barity is the firm belief they entertained that they were 
 dealing with a witch. And when even in our own day 
 so many revolting scenes are enacted to gratify the brutal 
 e2
 
 244 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 passions of the mob, while prize-fights are tolerated, 
 and wretched animals goaded on to tear each other in 
 pieces, it is not to be wondered at that in times of less 
 enlightenment and refinement, greater cruelties should 
 be practised. Indeed, it may be well to consider how 
 far we have really advanced in civilisation since then; 
 for until cruelty, whether to man or beast, be wholly 
 banished from our sports, we cannot justly reproach our 
 ancestors, or congratulate ourselves on our improve- 
 ment. 
 
 Nance's cries of distress were only answered by jeers, 
 and renewed insults, and wearied out at length, the poor 
 creature ceased struggling and shrieking, the dogged 
 resolution she had before exhibited again coming to 
 her aid. 
 
 But her fortitude was to be yet more severely tested. 
 Revealed by the disorder of her habiliments, and con- 
 trasting strongly with the extreme whiteness of her shin, 
 a dun-coloured mole was discovered upon her breast. It 
 was pointed out to Potts by Jem Device, who declared 
 it to be a witch-mark, and the spot where her fami- 
 liar drained her blood. 
 
 " This is one of the ' good helps' to the discovery of 
 a witch, pointed out by our sovereign lord the king," 
 said the attorney, narrowly examining the spot. " ' The 
 one,' saith our wise prince, ( is the finding of their mark, 
 and the trying the insensibleness thereof. The other is 
 their fleeting on the water.' The water-ordeal will come 
 presently, but the insensibility of the mark might be 
 at once attested."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 245 
 
 " Ycigli, that con soon be tried," cried Jem, with a 
 savage laugh. 
 
 And taking a pin from his sleeve, the ruffian plunged 
 it deeply into the poor creature's flesh. Nance winced, 
 but she set her teeth hardly, and repressed the cry 
 that must otherwise have been wrung from her. 
 
 "A clear witch!" cried Jem, drawing forth the pin ; 
 " not a drop o' blood flows, an hoo feels nowt !" 
 
 11 Feel nowt ?" rejoined Nance, between her ground 
 teeth. " May ye ha a pang os sharp i' your cancart 
 eart, ye villain." 
 
 After this barbarous test, the crowd, confirmed by 
 it in their notions of Nan's guiltiness, hurried on, their 
 numbers increasing as they proceeded along the main 
 street of the village leading towards the river ; all the 
 villagers left at home rushing forth on hearing a witch 
 was about to be swum, and when they came within a 
 bow-shot of the stream, Sparshot called to Baggiley to 
 lay hold of Nance, while he himself, accompanied by 
 several of the crowd, ran over the bridge, the part he 
 had to enact requiring him to be on the other side of 
 the water. 
 
 Meantime, the main party turned down a little foot- 
 path protected by a gate on the left, which led between 
 garden hedges to the grassy banks of the Calder, and in 
 taking this course they passed by the cottage of Elizabeth 
 Device. Hearing the shouts of the rabble, little Jennet, 
 who had been in no very happy frame of mind since she
 
 246 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 ; 
 had been brought home, came forth, and seeing her 
 brother, called out to him, in her usual sharp tones, 
 " What's the matter, Jem? Who han ye getten 
 there?" 
 
 "A witch," replied Jem, gruffly. "Nance Red- 
 feme, Mother Chattox's grand-daughter. Come an see 
 her swum i' th' C alder." 
 
 Jennet readily complied, for her curiosity was 
 aroused, and she shared in the family feelings of dislike 
 to Mother Chattox and her descendants. 
 
 * ' Is this Nance Redferne?" she cried, keeping close 
 to her brother. " Ey'm glad yo'n caught her at last. 
 How dun ye find yersel, 'Nance ?" 
 
 "Ill at ease, Jennet," replied Nance, with a bitter 
 look; " boh it ill becomes ye to jeer me, lass, seein' yo're 
 a born witch yoursel." 
 
 "Aha!" cried Potts, looking at the little girl, "So 
 this is a born witch — eh, Nance?" 
 
 " A born an' bred witch," rejoined Nance; " jist as 
 her brother Jem here is a wizard. They're the gran- 
 childer o' Mother Demdike o' Pen die, the greatest witch 
 i' these parts, an' childer o' Bess Device, who's nah 
 much better. Ask me to witness agen 'em, that's aw." 
 " Howd thy tongue, woman, or ey'n drown thee," 
 muttered Jem, in a tone of deep menace. 
 
 " Ye canna, mon, if ey'm the witch ye ca' me," re- 
 joined Nance. " Jennet's turn'll come os weel os mine, 
 one o' these days. Mark my words.'-'
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 247 
 
 " Efore that ey shan see ye burned, ye faggot," cried 
 Jennet, almost fiercely. 
 
 " Yc'n gotten the fiend's mark o' your sleeve," cried 
 Nance. " Ey see it written i' letters ov blood." 
 
 " That's where our cat scratted me," replied Jennet, 
 liiding her arm quickly, 
 
 "Good! — very good!" observed Potts, rubbing his 
 hands. " ' Who but witches can be proof against 
 witches,' saith our sagacious sovereign. I shall make 
 something of this girl. She seems a remarkably quick 
 child — remarkably quick — ha, ha ! n 
 
 By this time, the party having gained the broad flat 
 mead through which the Calder flowed, took their way 
 quickly towards its banks, the spot selected for the 
 ordeal lying about fifty yards above the weir, where 
 the current, ordinarily rapid, was checked by the dam, 
 offering a smooth surface, with considerable depth of 
 water. If soft natural beauties could have subdued 
 the hearts of those engaged in this cruel and wicked 
 experiment, never was scene better calculated for the 
 purpose than that under contemplation. Through a 
 lovely green valley meandered the Calder, now wind- 
 ing round some verdant knoll, now washing the base 
 of lofty heights feathered with timber to their very 
 summits, now lost amid thick woods and only dis- 
 cernible at intervals by a glimmer amongst the trees. 
 Immediately in front of the assemblage rose "Whallcy 
 Nab, its steep sides and brow partially covered with 
 timber, with green patches in the uplands where
 
 248 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 slieep and cattle fed. Just below the spot where the 
 crowd were collected, the stream, here of some width, 
 passed over the weir, and swept in a foaming cascade 
 over the huge stones supporting the dam, giving 
 the rushing current the semblance and almost the 
 beauty of a natural waterfall. Below this the 
 stream ran brawling on in a wider but shallower 
 channel, making pleasant music as it went, and leav- 
 ing many dry beds of sand and gravel in the midst; 
 while a hundred yards lower down, it was crossed 
 by the arches of the bridge. Further still, a row 
 of tall cypresses lined the bank of the river, and 
 screened that part of the Abbey, converted into a re- 
 sidence by the Asshetons ; and after this, came the ruins 
 of the refectory, the cloisters, the dormitory, the con- 
 ventual church, and other parts of the venerable 
 structure overshadowed by noble lime trees and elms. 
 Lovelier or more peaceful scene could not be imagined. 
 The green meads, the bright clear stream, with its white 
 foaming weir, the woody heights reflected in the glassy 
 waters, the picturesque old bridge, and the dark gray 
 ruins beyond it, all might have engaged the attention, 
 and melted the heart. Then the hour, when evening was 
 coming on, and when each beautiful object deriving 
 new beauty from the medium through which it was 
 viewed, exercised a softening influence, and awakened 
 kindly emotions. To most the scene was familiar, 
 and therefore could have no charm of novelty. To 
 Potts, however, it was altogether new, but he was
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 249 
 
 susceptible of few gentle impressions, and neither the 
 tender beauty of the evening, nor the wooing loveliness 
 of the spot, awakened any responsive emotion in his 
 breast. He was dead to every thing except the ruth- 
 less experiment about to be made. 
 
 Almost at the same time that Jem Device and his 
 party reached the near bank of the stream, the beadle 
 and the others appeared on the opposite side. Little 
 was said, but instant preparations were made for the 
 ordeal. Two long coils of rope having been brought 
 by Baggiley, one of them was made fast to the right 
 arm of the victim, and the other to the left ; and this 
 done, Jem Device, shouting to Sparshot to look out, 
 flung one coil of rope across the river, where it was 
 caught with much dexterity by the beadle. The assem- 
 blage then spread out on the bank, while Jem, taking 
 the poor young woman in his arms, who neither spoke 
 nor struggled, but held her breath tightly, approached 
 the river. 
 
 "Dunna drown her, Jem,' 5 said Jennet, who had 
 turned very pale. 
 
 "Be quiet, wench,"" rejoined Jem, gruffly. 
 
 And without bestowing further attention upon her, 
 he let down his burden carefully into the water; and this 
 achieved, he called out to the beadle, who drew her 
 slowly towards him, while Jem guided her with 
 the other rope. 
 
 The crowd watched the experiment for a few 
 moments in profound silence, but as the poor young 
 woman, who had now reached the centre of the stream,
 
 250 THE LANCASHIKE WITCHES. 
 
 still floated, being supported either by the tension of 
 the cords or by her woollen apparel, a loud shout was 
 raised that she could not sink, and was, therefore, 
 an undeniable witch. 
 
 " Steady, lads, steady a moment," cried Potts, 
 enchanted with the success of the experiment, 
 " leave her where she is, that her buoyancy may be 
 fully attested. You know, masters," he cried, with a 
 loud voice, " the meaning of this water- ordeal. Our 
 sovereign lord and master the king, in his wisdom, 
 hath graciously vouchsafed to explain the matter thus : 
 ' Water,' he saith, * shall refuse to receive them (mean- 
 ing witches of course) in her bosom, that have shaken 
 off their sacred water of baptism, and wilfully refused the 
 benefit thereof/ It is manifest, you see, that this 
 diabolical young woman hath renounced her baptism, 
 for the water rejecteth her. Non potest mergi, as 
 Pliny saith. She floats like a cork, or as if the clear 
 water of the Calder had suddenly become like the slab, 
 t salt waves of the Dead Sea, in which nothing can sink. 
 You behold the marvel with your own eyes, my masters." 
 
 " Ay, ay !" rejoined Baggiley and several others. 
 
 " Hoo be a witch fo sartin," cried Jem Device. 
 But as he spoke, chancing slightly to slacken the rope, 
 the tension of which maintained the equilibrium of the 
 body, the poor woman instantly sank. 
 
 A groan, as much of disappointment as sympathy, 
 broke from the spectators^ but none attempted to aid 
 her ; and on seeing her sink, Jem abandoned the rope 
 altogether.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 251 
 
 But assistance was at hand. Two persons rushed 
 quickly and furiously to the spot. They were Richard 
 and Nicholas Assheton. The iron bar had at length 
 yielded to their efforts, and the first use they made of 
 their freedom was to hurry to the river. A glance 
 showed them what had occurred, and the younger 
 Assheton, unhesitatingly plunging into the water, seized 
 the rope dropped by Jem, and calling to the 
 beadle to let go his hold, dragged forth the poor 
 half-drowned young woman, and placed her on the 
 bank, hewing asunder the cords that bound her hands 
 and feet with his sword. But though still sensible, 
 Nance was so much exhausted by the shock she had 
 undergone, and her muscles were so severely strained by 
 the painful and unnatural posture to which she had been 
 compelled, that she was wholly unable to move. Her 
 thumbs were blackened and swollen, and the cords had 
 cut into the flesh, while blood trickled down from 
 the puncture in her breast. Fixing a look of inexpres- 
 sible gratitude upon her preserver, she made an effort 
 to speak, but the exertion was too great ; violent hysterical 
 sobbing came on, and her senses soon after forsook her. 
 Richard called loudly for assistance, and the sentiments of 
 the most humane part of the crowd having undergone 
 a change since the failure of the ordeal, some females 
 came forward, and took steps for her restoration. Sen- 
 sibility having returned, a cloak was wrapped around 
 her, and she was conveyed to a neighbouring cottage 
 and put to bed, where her stiffened limbs were chafed,
 
 252 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 and warm drinks administered, and it began to be 
 hoped that no serious consequences would ensue. 
 
 Meanwhile, a catastrophe had well-nigh occurred in 
 another quarter. With eyes flashing with fury, Nicholas 
 Assheton pushed aside the crowd, and made his 
 way to the bank whereon Master Potts stood. Not 
 liking his looks, the little attorney would have taken to 
 his heels, but finding escape impossible, he called upon 
 Baggiley to protect him. But he was instantly in 
 the forcible gripe of the squire, who shouted, " I'll teach 
 you, mongrel hound, to play tricks with gentlemen." 
 
 " Master Nicholas," cried the terrified and half- 
 strangled attorney, " my very good sir, I entreat you 
 to let me alone. This is a breach of the king's peace 
 sir. Assault and battery, under aggravated circum- 
 stances, and punishable with ignominious corporal 
 penalties, besides fine and imprisonment, sir. I take 
 you to witness the assault, Master Baggiley. I shall 
 bring my ac — ac — ah — o — o — oh ['* 
 
 " Then you shall have something to bring your ac — 
 ac — action for, rascal," cried Nicholas. And seizing the 
 attorney by the nape of the neck with one hand, and 
 the hind wings of his doublet with the other, he cast 
 him to a considerable distance into the river, where he 
 fell with a tremendous splash. 
 
 " He is no wizard, at all events, 5 ' laughed Nicholas, as 
 Potts went down like a lump of lead. 
 
 But the attorney was not born to be drowned ; at 
 least, at this period of his career. On rising to the
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 253 
 
 surface, a few seconds after his immersion, he roared 
 lustily for help, but would infallibly have been carried 
 over the weir, if Jem Device had not flunj* him the 
 rope now disengaged from Nance Redfernc, and 
 which he succeeded in catching. In this way he was 
 dragged out; and as he crept up the bank, with the wet 
 pouring from his apparel, which now clung tightly to 
 his lathy limbs, he was greeted by the jeers of Nicholas. 
 
 " How like you the water-ordeal — eh, Master Attor- 
 ney ? No occasion for a second trial, I think. If 
 Jem Device had known his own interest, he would 
 have left you to fatten the C alder eels; but he will find 
 it out in time." 
 
 " You will find it out too, Master Nicholas," re- 
 joined Potts, clapping on his wet cap. "Take me to 
 the Dragon, quickly, good fellow," he added, to Jem 
 Device, " and I will recompense thee for thy pains, as 
 well as for the service thou hast just rendered me. I 
 shall have rheumatism in my joints, pains in my loins, 
 and rheum in my head, oh dear — oh dear !" 
 
 " In which case you will not be able to pay Mother 
 Demdike your purposed visit to-morrow," jeered Ni- 
 cholas. " You forget you were to arrest her, and bring 
 her before a magistrate." 
 
 "Thy arm, good fellow, thy arm!" said Potts, to 
 Jem Device. 
 
 " To the fiend, wi' thee," cried Jem, shaking him off, 
 roughly. " The squoire is reet. Wouldee had let thee 
 drown."
 
 254 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " What, have you changed your mind already, Jem?" 
 cried Nicholas, in a taunting tone. " You'll have your 
 grandmother's thanks for the service you've rendered 
 her, lad— ha! ha! 5 ' 
 
 " ITo' t' matter o' two pins ey'd pitch him again," 
 growled Jem, eyeing the attorney askance. 
 
 "No, no, Jem," observed Nicholas, "things must 
 take their course. What's done is done. But if Master 
 Potts be wise, he'll take himself out of court without 
 delay." 
 
 " You'll be glad to get me out of court one of these 
 days, squire," muttered Potts, ic and so will you too, 
 Master James Device. A day of reckoning will come 
 for both — heavy reckoning. Ugh! ugh!" he added, 
 shivering, es how my teeth chatter !" 
 
 " Make what haste you can to the Dragon," cried the 
 good-natured squire; " get your clothes dried, and bid 
 John Lawe brew you a pottle of strong sack, swallow it 
 scalding hot, and you'll never look behind you." 
 
 " Nor before me either," retorted Potts. " Scalding 
 sack ! This blood-thirsty squire has a new design upon 
 my life!" 
 
 " Ey'n go wi' ye to th' Dragon, niester," said Bag- 
 giley; " lean o' me." 
 
 "Thanke'e, friend," replied Potts, taking his arm. 
 " A word at parting, Master Nicholas. This is not the 
 only discovery of witchcraft I've made. I've another 
 case, somewhat nearer home. Ha ! ha !" 
 
 With this, he hobbled off in the direction of the ale-
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 255 
 
 house, his steps being traceable along the dusty road 
 like the course of a watering-cart. 
 
 " Ey'n go cfter him/' growled Jem. 
 
 " No you won't, lad/' rejoined Nicholas, "and if you'll 
 take my advice, you'll get out of Whalley as fast as 
 you can. You will be safer on the heath of Pendle 
 than here, when Sir Ralph and Master Roger Nowcll 
 come to know what has taken place. And mind this, 
 sirrah — the hounds will be out in the forest to-morrow. 
 D'ye heed ?> 
 
 Jem growled something in reply, and seizing his 
 little sister's hand, strode off with her towards his 
 mother's dwelling, uttering not a word by the way. 
 
 Having seen Nance Redferne conveyed to the cot- 
 tage, as before-mentioned, Richard Assheton, re- 
 gardless of the wet state of his own apparel, now 
 joined his cousin, the squire, and they walked to the 
 Abbey together, conversing on what had taken place, 
 while the crowd dispersed, some returning to the 
 bowers in the church-yard, and others to the green, their 
 merriment in nowise damped by the recent occurrences, 
 which they looked upon as part of the day's sport. 
 As some of them passed by, laughing, singing, and 
 dancing, Richard Assheton remarked, " I can scarcely 
 believe these to be the same people I so lately saw in 
 the churchyard. They then seemed totally devoid of 
 humanity." 
 
 " Pshaw ! they are humane enough," rejoined Nicho- 
 las; "but you cannot expect them to show mercy to
 
 25C, THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 a witch, any more than to a wolf, or other savage 
 and devouring beast." 
 
 " But the means taken to prove her guilt were as 
 absurd as iniquitous," said Richard, "and savour of 
 the barbarous ages. If she had perished, all concerned 
 in the trial would have been guilty of murder.' , 
 
 " But no judge would condemn them," returned Ni- 
 cholas ; " and they have the highest authority in the realm 
 to uphold them. As to leniency to witches, in a general 
 way, T would show none. Traitors alike to God and 
 man, and bond slaves of Satan, they are out of the 
 pale of Christian charity." 
 
 "No criminal, however great, is out of the pale of 
 Christian charity," replied Richard; "but such scenes 
 as we have just witnessed are a disgrace to humanity, 
 and a mockery of justice. In seeking to discover and 
 punish one offence a greater is committed. Suppose 
 this poor young woman really guilty — what then ? Our 
 laws are made for protection, as well as punishment 
 of wrong. She should be arraigned, convicted, and con- 
 demned before punishment." 
 
 " Our laws admit of torture, Richard," observed 
 Nicholas. 
 
 " True," said the young man, with a shudder, " and 
 it is another relic of a ruthless age. But torture is 
 only allowed under the eye of the law, and can be 
 inflicted by none but its sworn servants. But, supposing 
 this poor young woman innocent of the crime imputed 
 to her, which I really believe her to be, how, then,
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 257 
 
 will you excuse the atrocities to which she has been 
 subjected?" 
 
 " I do not believe her innocent," rejoined Nicholas; 
 " her relationship to a notorious witch, and her fabrica- 
 tion of clay images make her justly suspected." 
 
 " Then let her be examined by a magistrate," said 
 Richard; " but, even then, wo betide her! "When I 
 think that Alizon Device is liable to the same atrocious 
 treatment, in consequence of her relationship to Mother 
 Demdike, I can scarce contain my indignation." 
 
 " It is unlucky for her, indeed," rejoined Nicholas; 
 " but of all Nance's assailants the most infuriated was 
 Alizon's brother, Jem Device." 
 
 11 I saw it," cried Richard — an uneasy expression 
 passing over his countenance. " Would she could be 
 removed from that family !" 
 
 " To what purpose?" demanded Nicholas, quickly. 
 " Her family are more likely to be removed from her if 
 Master Potts stay in the neighbourhood." 
 
 " Poor girl !" exclaimed Richard. 
 
 And he fell into a reverie which was not broken till 
 they reached the Abbey. 
 
 To return to Jem Device. On reaching the cottage, 
 the ruffian flung himself into a chair, and for a time 
 seemed lost in reflection. At last he looked up, and 
 said gruffly to Jennet, who stood watching him, " See 
 if mother be come whoam V 
 
 " Eigh, eigh, ey'm here, Jem," said Elizabeth Device, 
 opening the inner door and coming forth. " So, ye ha 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 been swimmin' Nance Redferne, lad, eli ! Ey'm glad 
 on it-— ha! ha!" 
 
 Jem gave her a significant look, upon which she mo- 
 tioned Jennet to withdraw, and the injunction being 
 complied with, though with evident reluctance, by the 
 little girl, she closed the door upon her. 
 
 " Now, Jem, what hast got to say to me ? lad, eh?" 
 demanded Elizabeth, stepping up to him. 
 
 " Neaw great deal, mother," he replied; "boh ey 
 keawnsel ye to look weel efter yersel. We're aw i' 
 dawnger." 
 
 6 ' Ey knoas it, lad, ey knoas it," replied Elizabeth ; 
 " boh fo my own pert ey'm nah afeerd. They darna 
 touch me; an' if they dun, ey con defend mysel reet 
 weel. Here's a letter to thy gran-mother," she added, 
 giving him a sealed packet. " Tak care on it." 
 
 " Fro Mistress Nutter, ey suppose ?" asked Jem. 
 
 a Eigh, who else should it be from ?" rejoined Eliza- 
 beth. " Your gran-mother win ha' enough to do to 
 neet, an so win yo, too, Jem, lettin alone the walk fro 
 here to Malkin Tower." 
 
 "Weel, gi' me mey supper, an ey'n set out," rejoined 
 Jem. " So ye ha' seen Mistress Nutter ?" 
 
 " Ey found her i' th' Abbey garden," replied Eliza- 
 beth, "an we had some tawk together, abowt th' boun- 
 dary line o' th' Rough Lee estates, an other matters." 
 
 And, as she spoke, she set a cold pasty, with oat 
 cakes, cheese, and butter, before her son, and next pro- 
 ceeded to draw him a jug of ale.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 259 
 
 "What other matters dun you mean, mother?" in- 
 quired Jem, attacking the pasty. " War it owt relatin' 
 to that little Lunnon lawyer, Mester Potts ?" 
 
 " Theawst hit it, Jem," replied Elizabeth, seating 
 herself near him. "That Potts means to visit thy 
 gran-mother to-morrow." 
 
 " Weel !" said Jem, grimly. 
 
 a An arrest her," pursued Elizabeth. 
 
 w Easily said," laughed Jem, scornfully, " boh neaw 
 quite so easily done." 
 
 " Nah quite, Jem," responded Elizabeth, joining in 
 the laugh. " 'Specially when th' owd dame's prepared, 
 as she win be now." 
 
 " Potts may set out o' that journey, boh he winna 
 come back again," remarked Jem, in a sombre tone. 
 
 " Wait till yo'n seen your gran-mother efore ye do 
 owt, lad," said Elizabeth. 
 
 " Ay, wait," added a voice. 
 
 " What's that?" demanded Jem, laying down his 
 knife and fork. 
 
 Elizabeth did not answer in words, but her sig- 
 nificant looks were quite response enough for her son. 
 
 " Os ye win, mother," he said, in an altered tone. 
 After a pause, employed in eating, he added, "Did 
 Mistress Nutter put onny questions to ye about Alizon?" 
 
 "More nor enough, lad," replied Elizabeth; " fo 
 what had ey to tell her? She praised her beauty, an 
 said how unlike she wur to Jennet an thee, lad — ha ! 
 ha ! — An wonder t how ey cum to ha such a dowter, an 
 
 S2
 
 260 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 monny other things besoide. An what could ey say to 
 it aw, except — " 
 
 " Except what, mother?" interrupted Jem. 
 
 " Except that she wur my child just os much os Jen- 
 net an thee !" 
 
 " Humph!" exclaimed Jem. 
 
 "Humph!" echoed the voice that had previously 
 spoken. 
 
 Jem looked at his mother, and took a long pull at 
 the ale-jug. 
 
 " Any more messages to Malkin Tower ?" he asked, 
 getting up. 
 
 " Neaw — mother will onderstond," replied Elizabeth. 
 " Bid her be on her guard, fo' the enemy is abroad." 
 
 " Meanin' Potts?" said Jem. 
 
 "Meaning Potts," answered the voice. 
 
 " There are strange echoes here," said Jem, looking 
 round suspiciously. 
 
 At this moment, Tib came from under a piece of 
 furniture, where he had apparently been lying, and 
 rubbed himself familiarly against his legs. 
 
 " Ey needna be afeerd o' owt happcmn to ye, mother," 
 said Jem, patting the cat's back. "Tib, win tay care 
 on yo." 
 
 " Eigh, eigh," replied Elizabeth, bending down to 
 pat him, " he's a trusty cat." But the ill-tempered ani- 
 mal would not be propitiated, but erected his lack 
 and menaced her with his claws. 
 
 " Yo han offended him, mother." said Jem. "One
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 261 
 
 word efore ey start. Are ye quite sure Potts didna 
 owcrhear your conversation wi' Mistress Nutter?" 
 
 "Why d'ye ask, Jem?" she replied. 
 
 M Fro' summat the knave threw out to Squoire 
 Nicholas, just now," rejoined Jem. "He said he'd 
 another case o' witchcraft nearer whoam. Whot could 
 he mean?" 
 
 " Whot, indeed?" cried Elizabeth, quickly. 
 
 " Look at Tib," exclaimed her son. 
 
 As he spoke, the cat sprang towards the inner door, 
 and scratched violently against it. 
 
 Elizabeth immediately raised the latch, and found 
 Jennet behind it, with a face like scarlet. 
 
 " Yo'n been listenin, ye young eaves-dropper," cried 
 Elizabeth, boxing her ears soundly, " take that fo 
 your pains — an that." 
 
 " Touch me again, an Mester Potts shan knoa aw 
 cy'n heer'd," said the little girl, repressing her tears. 
 
 Elizabeth regarded her angrily ; but the looks of the 
 child were so spiteful, that she did not dare to strike 
 her. She glanced too at Tib ; but the uncertain cat 
 was now rubbing himself in the most friendly manner 
 against Jennet. 
 
 " Yo shan pay for this, lass, presently," said Eliza- 
 beth. 
 
 " Best nah provoke me, mother," rejoined Jennet, in 
 a determined tone; "if ye dun, aw secrets shan out. 
 Ey knoa why Jem's goin' to Malkin Tower to-neet — 
 an why yo're afcerd o' Mester Potts."
 
 262 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Howd thy tongue or ey'n choke thee, little pest," 
 cried her mother, fiercely. 
 
 Jennet replied with a mocking laugh, while Tib 
 rubbed against her more fondly than ever. 
 
 "Let her alone," interposed Jem. "An now ey 
 mun be off. So, fare ye weel, mother, — an yo, too, 
 Jennet." And with this, he put on his cap, seized his 
 cudgel, and quitted the cottage.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 263 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE RUINED CONVENTUAL CHURCH. 
 
 Beneath a wild cherry-tree, planted by chance in 
 the Abbey gardens, and of such remarkable size that 
 it almost rivalled the elms and lime-trees surrounding 
 it, and when in bloom resembled an enormous garland, 
 stood two young maidens, both of rare beauty, though in 
 totally different styles ; — the one being fair-haired, and 
 blue-eyed, with a snowy skin tinged with delicate bloom, 
 like that of roses seen through milk, to borrow a 
 simile from old Anacreon ; while the other far eclipsed 
 her in the brilliancy of her complexion, the dark splen- 
 dour of her eyes, and the luxuriance of her jetty tresses, 
 which, unbound and knotted with ribands, flowed down 
 almost to the ground. In age, there was little disparity 
 between them, though perhaps the dark-haired girl 
 might be a year nearer twenty than the other, and 
 somewhat more of seriousness, though not much, sat 
 upon her lovely countenance than on the other's laugh- 
 ing features. Different were they, too, in degree, and 
 here social position was infinitely in favour of the fairer
 
 264 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 girl, but no one would have judged it so if not pre- 
 viously acquainted with their history. Indeed, it was 
 rather the one having least title to be proud (if any one 
 has such title) who now seemed to look up to her com- 
 panion with, mingled admiration and regard ; the latter 
 being enthralled at the moment by the rich notes of a 
 thrush poured from a neighbouring lime-tree. 
 
 Pleasant was the garden where the two girls stood, 
 shaded by great trees, laid out in exquisite parterres, 
 with knots and figures, quaint flower-beds, shorn trees 
 and hedges, covered alleys and arbours, terraces and 
 mounds, in the taste of the time, and above all 
 an admirably kept bowling-green. It was bounded 
 on the one hand by the ruined chapter-house and 
 vestry of the old monastic structure, and on the 
 other by the stately pile of buildings formerly making- 
 part of the Abbot's lodging, in which the long gallery 
 was situated, some of its windows looking upon the bowl- 
 ing-green, and then kept in excellent condition, but now 
 roofless, and desolate. Behind them, on the right, half- 
 hidden by trees, lay the desecrated and despoiled 
 conventual church. Reared at such cost, and with 
 so much magnificence, by thirteen abbots ; the great 
 work having been commenced, as heretofore stated, 
 by Robert de Topcliffe, in 1330, and only com- 
 pleted in all its details by John Paslew ; this splen- 
 did structure, surpassing, according to Whitakcr, 
 ei many cathedrals in extent," was now abandoned to 
 the slow ravages of decay. Would it had never en-
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 265 
 
 countered worse enemy ! But some half century 
 later, the hand of man was called in to accelerate its 
 destruction, and it was then almost entirely rased 
 to the ground. At the period in question, though 
 partially unroofed, and with some of the walls de- 
 stroyed, it was still beautiful and picturesque — more 
 picturesque, indeed, than in the days of its pride 
 and splendour. The tower with its lofty crocheted 
 spire was still standing, though the latter was cracked, 
 and tottering, and the jackdaws roosted within its win- 
 dows and belfry. Two ranges of broken columns told 
 of the bygone glories of the aisles ; and the beautiful 
 side chapels having escaped injury better than other 
 parts of the fabric, remained in tolerable preservation. 
 But the choir and high altar were stripped of all their 
 rich carving and ornaments, and the rain descended 
 through the open rood-loft upon the now grass-grown 
 graves of the abbots in the presbytery. Here and there 
 the ramified muilions still retained their wealth of 
 painted glass, and the grand eastern window shone gor- 
 geously as of yore. All else was neglect and ruin. 
 Briars and turf usurped the place of the marble pave- 
 ment; many of the pillars were festooned with ivy; and, 
 in some places, the shattered walls were covered with 
 creepers, and trees had taken root in the crevices of the 
 masonry. Beautiful at all times were these magnificent 
 ruins ; but never so beautiful as when seen by the 
 witching lif(ht of the moon — the hour, according to the 
 best authority, when all ruins should be viewed — when
 
 266 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 the long lines of broken pillars, the mouldering arches, and 
 the still glowing panes over the altar, had a magical effect. 
 
 In front of the maidens stood a square tower, part 
 of the defences of the religious establishment erected by 
 Abbot Lyndelay, in the reign of Edward III., but 
 disused and decaying. It was sustained by high and 
 richly-groined arches, crossing the swift mill-race, and 
 faced the river. A path led through the ruined chapter- 
 house, to the spacious cloister quadrangle, once used as 
 a cemetery for the monks, but now converted into a 
 kitchen-garden, its broad area being planted out, 
 and fruit trees trained against the hoary walls. Little 
 of the old refectory was left, except the dilapidated 
 stairs once conducting to the gallery where the brethren 
 were wont to take their meals, but the inner wall still 
 served to inclose the garden on that side. Of the 
 dormitory, formerly constituting the eastern angle of 
 the cloisters, the shell was still left, and it was used 
 partly as a grange, partly as a shed for cattle, the farm- 
 yard and tenements lying on this side. 
 
 Thus it will be seen, that the garden and grounds, 
 filling up the ruins of Whalley Abbey, offered abun- 
 dant points of picturesque attraction, all of which — 
 with the exception of the ruined conventual church, — 
 had been visited by the two girls. They had tracked the 
 labyrinths of passages, scaled the broken staircases, crept 
 into the roofless and neglected chambers, peered timo- 
 rously into the black and yawning vaults, and now 
 having finished their investigations, had paused for
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 267 
 
 awhile, previous to extending their ramble to the 
 church, beneath the wild cherry- tree to listen to the 
 warbling of the birds. 
 
 "You should hear the nightingales at Middleton, 
 Alizon," observed Dorothy Assheton, breaking silence ; 
 "they sing even more exquisitely than yon thrush. You 
 must come and see me. I should like to show you 
 the old house and gardens, though they are very diffe- 
 rent from these, and we have no ancient monastic ruins 
 to ornament them. Still, they are very beautiful; and, 
 as I find you are fond of flowers, I will show you some 
 I have reared myself, for I am something of a gardener, 
 Alizon. Promise you will come." 
 
 u I wish I dared promise it," replied Alizon. 
 
 "And why not, then?" cried Dorothy. "What 
 should prevent you? Do you know, Alizon, what I 
 should like better than all ? You are so amiable, and so 
 good, and so — so very pretty; nay don't blush — there is 
 no one by to hear me — you are so charming altogether 
 that I should like you to come and live with me. You 
 shall be my handmaiden if you will." 
 
 " I should desire nothing better, sweet young lady," 
 replied Alizon; "but — " 
 
 " But what ?" cried Dorothy. " You have only your 
 own consent to obtain." 
 
 "Alas! I have," replied Alizon. 
 
 " How can that be !" cried Dorothy, with a disap- 
 pointed look. " It is not likely your mother will stand 
 in the way of your advancement, and you have not, I
 
 268 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 suppose, any other tie ? Nay, forgive me if I appear 
 too inquisitive. My curiosity only proceeds from the 
 interest I take in you." 
 
 " I know it — I feel it, dear, kind young lady," re- 
 plied Alizon, with the colour again mounting her 
 cheeks. " I have no tie in the world except my 
 family. But I am persuaded my mother will never allow 
 me to quit her, however great the advantage might be 
 to me." 
 
 " Well, though sorry, I am scarcely surprised at it," 
 said Dorothy. " She must love you too dearly to part 
 with you." 
 
 (i I wish I could think so," sighed Alizon. " Proud 
 of me in some sort, though with little reason, she may 
 be, but love me, most assuredly, she does not. Nay 
 more, I am persuaded she would be glad to be freed 
 from my presence, which is an evident restraint and 
 annoyance to her, were it not for some motive stronger 
 than natural affection that binds her to me." 
 
 " Now, in good sooth, you amaze me, Alizon !" cried 
 Dorothy. " What possible motive can it be, if not of 
 affection?" 
 
 " Of interest, I think," replied Alizon. " I speak to 
 you without reserve, dear young lady, for the sympathy 
 you have shown me deserves and demands confidence 
 on my part, and there are none with whom I can freely 
 converse, so that every emotion has been locked up in 
 my own bosom. My mother fancies I shall one day be
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 269 
 
 of use to her, and, therefore, keeps me with her. Hints 
 to this effect she has thrown out, when inclukan^ in 
 the uncontrollable fits of passion to which she is 
 liable. And yet I have no just reason to complain, 
 for though she has shown me little maternal tenderness, 
 and repelled all exhibition of affection on my part, 
 she has treated me very differently from her other 
 children, and with much greater consideration. I can 
 make slight boast of education, but the best the village 
 could afford has been given me ; and I have derived 
 much religious culture from good Doctor Ormerod. 
 The kind ladies of the vicarage proposed, as you have 
 done, that I should live with them, but my mother 
 forbade it; enjoining me, on the peril of incurring her 
 displeasure, not to leave her, and reminding me of all 
 the benefits I have received from her, and of the necessity 
 of making an adequate return. And, ungrateful in- 
 deed I should be, if I did not comply; for though her 
 manner is harsh and cold to me, she has never ill-used 
 me, as she has done her favourite child, my little sister 
 Jennet, but has always allowed me a separate chamber, 
 where I can retire wdien I please, to read, or meditate, 
 or pray. For alas ! dear young lady, I dare not pray 
 before my mother. Be not shocked at what I tell you, 
 but I cannot hide it. My poor mother denies herself 
 the consolation of religion — never addresses herself to 
 Heaven in prayer — never opens the book of Life and 
 Truth — never enters church. In her own mistaken 
 way she has brought up poor little Jennet, who has been
 
 270 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 taught to make a scoff at religious truths and ordinances, 
 and has never been suffered to keep holy the Sabbath- 
 day. Happy and thankful am I, that no such evil lessons 
 have been taught me, but rather, that I have profited by 
 the sad example. In my own secret chamber I have 
 prayed, daily and nightly, for both — prayed that their 
 hearts might be turned. Often have I besought my mother 
 to let me take Jennet to church, but she never would 
 consent. And in that poor misguided child, dear 
 young lady, there is a strange mixture of good and ill. 
 Afflicted with personal deformity, and delicate in health, 
 the mind, perhaps, sympathising with the body, she 
 is wayward and uncertain in temper, but sensitive and 
 keenly alive to kindness, and with a shrewdness beyond 
 her years. At the risk of offending my mother, for I 
 felt confident I was acting rightly, I have endeavoured 
 to instil religious principles into her heart, and to inspire 
 her with a love of truth. Sometimes she has listened 
 to me ; and I have observed strange struggles in her 
 nature, as if the good were obtaining mastery of the evil 
 principle, and I have striven the more to convince her, 
 and win her over, but never with entire success, for 
 my efforts have been overcome by pernicious counsels, 
 and sceptical sneers. Oh, dear young lady, what would 
 I not do to be the instrument of her salvation !" 
 
 " You pain me much by this relation, Alizon," said 
 Dorothy Asshcton, who had listened with profound 
 attention, " and I now wish more ardently than ever 
 to take you from such a family."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 271 
 
 " I cannot leave them, dear young lady," replied 
 Alizon; " for I feel I may be of infinite service — espe- 
 cially to Jennet — by staying with them. Where there 
 is a soul to be saved, especially the soul of one dear as 
 a sister, no sacrifice can be too great to make — no price 
 too heavy to pay. By the blessing of Heaven I hope 
 to save her ! And that is the great tie that binds me 
 to a home, only so in name." 
 
 " I will not oppose your virtuous intentions, dear 
 Alizon," replied Dorothy ; " but I must now mention 
 a circumstance in connexion with your mother, of 
 which you are perhaps in ignorance, but which it is 
 right you should know, and therefore no false delicacy 
 on my part shall restrain me from mentioning it. Your 
 grandmother, Old Demdike, is in very ill repute in 
 Pendle, and is stigmatised by the common folk, and 
 even by others, as a witch. Your mother, too, shares in 
 the opprobium attaching to her." 
 
 ' : I dreaded this," replied Alizon, turning deadly 
 pale, and trembling violently, " I feared you had heard 
 the terrible report. But oh, believe it not. My poor 
 mother is erring enough, but she is not so bad as that. 
 Oh, believe it not !" 
 
 " I will not believe it," said Dorothy, " since she 
 is blessed with such a daughter as you. But what I fear 
 is that you — you so kind, so good, so beautiful — may 
 come under the same ban." 
 
 M I must run this risk also, in the good work I have 
 appointed myself, " replied Alizon. " If I am ill thought
 
 272 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 of by men, I shall have the approval of my own con- 
 science to uphold me. Whatever betide, and what- 
 ever be said, do not you think ill of me, dear young 
 lady." 
 
 " Fear it not," returned Dorothy, earnestly. 
 
 While thus conversing, they gradually strayed away 
 from the cherry-tree, and taking a winding path 
 leading in that direction, entered the conventual 
 church, about the middle of the south aisle. After 
 gazing with wonder and delight at the still majestic 
 pillars, that, like ghosts of the departed brethren, 
 seemed to protest against the desolation around them, 
 they took their way along the nave, through broken 
 arches, and over prostrate fragments of stone, to the 
 eastern extremity of the fane, and having admired the 
 light shafts and clerestory windows of the choir, as well 
 as the magnificent painted glass over the altar, they 
 stopped before an arched door-way on the right, with 
 two Gothic niches, in one of which was a small stone 
 statue of Saint Agnes, with her lamb, and in the other 
 a similar representation of Saint Margaret, crowned, 
 and piercing the dragon, with a cross. Both were 
 sculptures of much merit, and it was wonderful they 
 had escaped destruction. The door was closed, but it 
 easily opened when tried by Dorothy, and they 
 found themselves in a small but beautiful chapel. 
 What struck them chiefly in it was a magnificent 
 monument of white marble, enriched with numerous 
 small shields, painted and gilt, supporting two rectim-
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 273 
 
 bent figures, representing Henry de Lacy, one of the 
 founders of the Abbey, and his consort. The knight 
 was cased in plate armour, covered with a surcoat, em- 
 blazoned with his arms, and his feet resting upon a 
 hound. This superb monument was wholly uninjured, 
 the painting and gilding being still fresh and bright. 
 Behind it a flag had been removed, discovering a flight 
 of steep stone steps, leading to a vault, or other subter- 
 ranean chamber. 
 
 After looking round this chapel, Dorothy remarked, 
 " There is something else that has just occurred to 
 me. When a child a strange dark tale wasTtold me 
 to the effect that the last ill-fated Abbot of TVhalley 
 laid his dying curse upon your grandmother, then an 
 infant, predicting that she should be a witch, and the 
 mother of witches." 
 
 " I have heard the dread tradition, too," rejoined 
 Alizon; "but 1 cannot, will not, believe it. An all- 
 benign Power will never sanction such terrible impre- 
 cations." 
 
 "Far be it from me to affirm the contrary," replied 
 Dorothy; " but it is undoubted that some families have 
 been, and are, under the influence of an inevitable fatal- 
 ity. In one respect, connected also with the same un- 
 fortunate prelate, I might instance our own family. 
 Abbot Paslew is said to be unlucky to us even in his 
 grave. If such a curse, as I have described, hangs over 
 the head of your family, all your efforts to remove it 
 will be ineffectual." 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " I trust not," said Alizon. (i Oh ! dear young lady, 
 you have now penetrated the secret of my heart. The 
 mystery of my life is laid open to you. Disguise it 
 as I may, I cannot but believe my mother to be under 
 some baneful influence. Her unholy life, her strange 
 actions, all impress me with the idea. And there is the 
 same tendency in Jennet." 
 
 "You have a brother, have you not?" inquired 
 Dorothy. 
 
 " I have," returned Alizon, slightly colouring; " but 
 I see^ little of him, for he lives near my grandmother 
 in Pendle Forest, and always avoids me in his rare visits 
 here. You will think it strange when I tell you I have 
 never beheld my grandmother Demdike." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," exclaimed Dorothy. 
 
 " I have never even been to Pendle," pursued Ali- 
 zon, " though Jennet and my mother go there frequently. 
 At one time I much wished to see my aged relative, 
 and pressed my mother to take me with her ; but she 
 refused, and now I have no desire to go." 
 
 " Strange!" exclaimed Dorothy. " Every thing 
 you tell me strengthens the idea I conceived the mo- 
 ment I saw you, and which my brother also enter- 
 tained, that you are not the daughter of Elizabeth 
 Device." 
 
 " Did your brother think this ?" cried Alizon, 
 eagerly. But she immediately cast down her eyes. 
 
 " He did," replied Dorothy, not noticing her con- 
 fusion. " ' It is impossible,' he said, ' that that lovely girl
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 275 
 
 can be sprung from' — but I will not wound you by 
 adding the rest." 
 
 " I cannot disown my kindred,"" said Alizon. " Still, 
 I must confess that some notions of the sort have crossed 
 me, arising, probably, from my mother's extraordinary 
 treatment, and from many other circumstances, which, 
 though trifling in themselves, were not without weight 
 in leading me to the conclusion. Hitherto, I have 
 treated it only as a passing fancy, but if you and Master 
 Richard Assheton" — and her voice slightly faltered 
 as she pronounced the name — u think so, it may war- 
 rant me in more seriously considering the matter." 
 
 " Do consider it most seriously, dear Alizon," cried 
 Dorothy. " I have made up my mind, and Richard 
 has made up Ins mind, too, that you are not Mother 
 Demdike's grand - daughter, nor Elizabeth Device's 
 daughter, nor Jennet's sister — nor any relation of 
 theirs. We are sure of it, and we will have you of 
 our mind." 
 
 The fair and animated speaker could not help no- 
 ticing the blushes that mantled Alizon's cheeks as she 
 spoke, but she attributed them to other than the true 
 cause. Nor did she mend the matter, as she pro- 
 ceeded. 
 
 "I am sure you are well born, Alizon," she said, 
 " And so it will be found in the end. And Richard 
 thinks so, too, for he said so to me, and Richard is my 
 oracle, Alizon." 
 
 T 2
 
 276 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 In spite of herself, Alizon's eyes sparkled with plea- 
 sure ; but she speedily checked the emotion. 
 
 " I must not indulge the dream," she said, with a 
 sigh. 
 
 "Why not?" cried Dorothy. "I will have strict 
 inquiries made as to your history." 
 
 *.* I cannot consent to it," replied Alizon. a I cannot 
 leave one, who, if she be not my parent, has stood to me 
 in that relation. Neither can I have her brought into 
 trouble on my account. What will she think of me, 
 if she learns I have indulged such a notion? She 
 will say, and with truth, that I am the most ungrateful 
 of human beings, as well as the most unnatural of 
 children. No, dear young lady, it must not be. These 
 fancies are brilliant, but fallacious, and, like bubbles, 
 burst as soon as formed." 
 
 " I admire your sentiments, though I do not admit the 
 justice of your reasoning," rejoined Dorothy, " It is not 
 on your own account merely, though that is much, that 
 the secret of your birth, if there be one, ought to be 
 cleared up ; but, for the sake of those with whom you may 
 be connected. There may be a mother, like mine, 
 weeping for you as lost — a brother, like Richard, mourn- 
 ing you as dead. Think of the sad hearts your resto- 
 ration will make joyful. As to Elizabeth Device, no 
 consideration should be shown her. If she has stolen 
 you from your parents, as I suspect, she deserves no 
 pity."
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 277 
 
 11 All this is mere surmise, dear young lady," replied 
 Alizon. 
 
 At this juncture, they were startled by seeing an 
 old woman come from behind the monument and 
 plant herself before them. Both uttered a cry, and 
 would have fled, but a gesture from the crone detained 
 them. Very old was she, and of strange and sinister 
 aspect, almost blind, bent double, with frosted brows 
 and chin, and shaking with palsy. 
 
 " Stay where you are," cried the hag, in an imperious 
 tone. " I want to speak to you. Come nearer to me, 
 my pretty wheans, — nearer — nearer." 
 
 And as they complied, drawn towards her by an 
 impulse they could not resist, the old woman caught 
 hold of Alizon's arm, and said with a chuckle, " So, 
 you are the wench they call Alizon Device, eh !" 
 
 " Ay," replied Alizon, trembling like a dove in the 
 talons of a hawk. 
 
 "Do you know who I am ?" cried the hag, grasping her 
 yet more tightly. u Do you know who I am, I say ? 
 If not, I will tell you. I am Mother Chattox, of Pendle 
 Forest, the rival of Mother Demdike, and the enemy of 
 all her accursed brood. Now, do you know me, wench? 
 Men call me witch. Whether I am so or not, I have 
 some power, as they and you shall find. Mother Dem- 
 dike has often defied me — often injured me, but I will 
 have my revenge upon her — ha ! ha !" 
 
 " Let me go," cried Alizon, greatly terrified. 
 
 11 I will run and bring assistance," cried Dorothy.
 
 278 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 And she flew to the door, but it resisted her attempts to 
 open it. 
 
 1 ' Come back," screamed the hag. ' ' You strive in vain. 
 The door is fast shut — fast shut. Come back I say. 
 Who are you?" she added, as the maid drew near, 
 ready to sink with terror. " Your voice is an Asshe- 
 ton's voice. I know you now. You are Dorothy 
 Assheton — whey-skinned, blue-eyed Dorothy. Listen 
 to me, Dorothy. I owe your family a grudge, and if 
 you provoke me I will pay it off in part on you. Stir 
 not as you value your life." 
 
 The poor girl did not dare to move, and Alizon re- 
 mained, as if fascinated by the terrible old woman. 
 
 " I will tell you what has happened, Dorothy," pur- 
 sued Mother Chattox. " I came hither to Whalley 
 on business of my own; meddling with no one; harming 
 no one. Tread upon the adder and it will bite, and 
 when molested I bite like the adder. Your cousin, 
 Nick Assheton, came in my way, called me ' witch,' 
 and menaced me. I cursed him — ha ! ha ! And then 
 your brother Richard — " 
 
 " What of him, in Heaven's name?" almost shrieked 
 Alizon. 
 
 " How's this ?" exclaimed Mother Chattox, placing 
 her hand on the beating heart of the girl. 
 
 " What of Richard Assheton ?" repeated Alizon. 
 
 fi You love him, I feel you do, wench," cried the old 
 crone, with fierce exultation. 
 
 " Release me, wicked woman," cried Alizon.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 279 
 
 " Wicked, am I ? ha ! ha !" rejoined Mother Chattox, 
 chuckling maliciously, " because, forsooth, I read thy 
 heart, and betray its secrets. Wicked, eh ! I tell thee, 
 wench, again, Richard Assheton is lord and master here. 
 Every pulse in thy bosom beats for him — for him alone. 
 But beware of his love. Beware of it, I say. It shall 
 bring thee ruin and despair." 
 
 " For pity's sake, release me," implored Alizon. 
 " Not yet," replied the inexorable old woman, 
 " not yet. My tale is not half told. My curse fell on 
 Richard's head, as it did on Nicholas's. And then the 
 hell-hounds thought to catch me ; but they were at fault. 
 I tricked them nicely — ha ! ha ! However, they took my 
 Nance — my pretty Nance — they seized her, bound her, 
 bore her to the Calder — and there swam her. Curses 
 light on them all ! — all ! — but chief on him who did it !" 
 
 " Who was he?" inquired Alizon, tremblingly. 
 
 " Jem Device," replied the old woman — " it was 
 he who bound her — he who plunged her in the river, 
 he who swam her. But I will pinch and plague him 
 for it. I will strew his couch with nettles, and all 
 wholesome food shall be poison to him. His blood shall 
 be as water, and his flesh shrink from his bones. He 
 shall waste away slowly — slowly — slowly — till he drops 
 like a skeleton into the grave ready digged for him. 
 All connected with him shall feel my fury. I would 
 kill thee now, if thou wert aught of his." 
 
 " Aught of his ! What mean you, old woman ?" 
 demanded Alizon.
 
 280 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Why this," rejoined Mother Chattox, " and let the 
 knowledge work in thee, to the confusion of Bess 
 Device. Thou art not her daughter." 
 
 " It is as I thought," cried Dorothy Assheton, roused 
 by the intelligence from her terror. 
 
 "I tell thee not this secret to pleasure thee," con- 
 tinued Mother Chattox, " but to confound Elizabeth 
 Device. I have no other motive. She hath provoked 
 my vengeance, and she shall feel it. Thou art not her 
 child, I say. The secret of thy birth is known to me, 
 but the time is not yet come for its disclosure. It 
 shall out, one day, to the confusion of those who offend 
 me. When thou goest home tell thy reputed mother 
 what I have said, and mark how she takes the infor- 
 mation. Ha ! who comes here ?" 
 
 The hag's last exclamation was occasioned by the 
 sudden appearance of Mistress Nutter, who opened the 
 door of the chapel, and staring in astonishment at the 
 group, came quickly forward. 
 
 " What makes you here, Mother Chattox?" she cried. 
 
 " I came here to avoid pursuit," replied the old hag, 
 with a cowed manner, and in accents sounding strangely 
 submissive after her late infuriated tone. 
 
 "What have you been saying to these girls?" de- 
 manded Mistress Nutter, authoritatively. 
 
 " Ask them," the hag replied. 
 
 " She declares that Alizon is not the daughter of 
 Elizabeth Device," cried Dorothy Assheton. 
 
 " Indeed I" exclaimed Mistress Nutter, quickly, and as
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 281 
 
 if a spring of extraordinary interest had been suddenly 
 touched. " What reason hast thou for this assertion ?" 
 
 11 No good reason," replied the old woman, evasively, 
 yet with evident apprehension of her questioner. 
 
 " Good reason or bad, I will have it," cried Mistress 
 Nutter. 
 
 " What you, too, take an interest in the wench like 
 the rest," returned Mother Chattox. " Is she so very 
 winning?" 
 
 " That is no answer to my question," said the lady. 
 " Whose child is she ?" 
 
 "Ask Bess Device, or Mother Demdike," replied 
 Mother Chattox; " they know more about the matter 
 than me." 
 
 " I will have thee speak, and to the purpose," cried 
 the lady, angrily. 
 
 6C Many an one has lost a child who would gladly 
 have it back again, '' said the old hag, mysteriously. 
 
 el Who has lost one ?" asked Mistress Nutter. 
 
 11 Nay, it passeth me to tell," replied the old wo- 
 man, with affected ignorance. " Question those who 
 stole her. I have set you on the track. If you fail 
 in pursuing it, come to me. You know where to find 
 me." 
 
 " You shall not go thus," said Mistress Nutter. " I 
 will have a direct answer now. 1 ' 
 
 And as she spoke she waved her hands twice or thrice 
 over the old woman. In doing this her figure seemed 
 to dilate, and her countenance underwent a marked 
 and fearful change. All her beauty vanished, her eyes
 
 282 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 blazed, and terror sat on her wrinkled brow. The hag, 
 on the contrary, crouched lower down, and seemed 
 to dwindle less than her ordinary size. "Writhing as 
 from heavy blows, and with a mixture of malice and 
 fear in her countenance, she cried, " Were I to speak, 
 you would not thank me. Let me go." 
 
 " Answer," vociferated Mistress Nutter, disregarding 
 the caution, and speaking in a sharp piercing voice, 
 strangely contrasting with her ordinary utterance. 
 " Answer, I say, or I will beat thee to the dust." 
 
 And she continued her gestures, while the sufferings 
 of the old hag evidently increased, and she crouched 
 nearer and nearer to the ground, moaning out the words, 
 " Do not force me to speak. You will repent it ! — you 
 will repent it I" 
 
 " Do not torment her thus, madam," cried Alizon, 
 who with Dorothy looked at the strange scene with 
 mingled apprehension and wonderment. " Much as I 
 desire to know the secret of my birth, I would not 
 obtain it thus." 
 
 As she uttered these words, the old woman contrived 
 to shuffle off, and disappeared behind the tomb. 
 
 "Why did you interpose, Alizon," cried Mistress 
 Nutter, somewhat angrily, and dropping her hands. 
 "You broke the power I had over her. I would 
 have compelled her to speak." 
 
 " I thank you, gracious lady, for your consideration," 
 replied Alizon, gratefully; u but the sight was too pain- 
 ful."
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 283 
 
 " "What has become of her — where is she gone ?" 
 cried Dorothy, peeping behind the tomb. " She has 
 crept into this vault, I suppose." 
 
 " Do not trouble yourself about her more, Dorothy," 
 said Mistress Nutter, resuming her wonted voice, and 
 wonted looks. " Let us return to the house. Thus 
 much is ascertained, Alizon, that you are no child of 
 your supposed parent. Wait a little, and the rest shall 
 be found out for you. And, meantime, be assured that 
 I take strong interest in you." 
 
 " That we all do," added Dorothy. 
 
 " Thank you ! thank you I" exclaimed Alizon, almost 
 overpowered. 
 
 With this they went forth, and traversing the shafted 
 aisle, quitted the conventual church, and took their way 
 along the alley leading to the garden. 
 
 " Say not a word at present to Elizabeth Device 
 of the information you have obtained, Alizon," ob- 
 served Mistress Nutter. " I have reasons for this 
 counsel, which I will afterwards explain to you. And 
 do you keep silence on the subject, Dorothy." 
 
 " May I not tell Richard ?" said the young lady. 
 
 " Not Richard — not any one," returned Mistress 
 Nutter, "or you may seriously affect Alizon's pros- 
 pects." 
 
 " You have cautioned me in time," cried Dorothy, 
 " for here comes my brother with our cousin Nicholas." 
 
 And as she spoke a turn in the alley showed Richard 
 and Nicholas Assheton, advancing towards them.
 
 284 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 A strange revolution had been produced in Alizon's 
 feelings by the events of the last half hour. The 
 opinions expressed by Dorothy Assheton, as to her 
 birth, had been singularly confirmed by Mother Chat- 
 tox ; but could reliance be placed on the old woman's 
 assertions ? Might they not have been made with mis- 
 chievous intent? And was it not possible, nay, probable, 
 that, in her place of concealment behind the tomb, 
 the vindictive hag had overheard the previous conver- 
 sation with Dorothy, and based her own declaration 
 upon it? All these suggestions occurred to Alizon, but 
 the previous idea having once gained admission to her 
 breast, soon established itself firmly there, in spite 
 of doubts and misgivings, and began to mix itself up 
 with new thoughts and wishes, with which other 
 persons were connected ; for she could not help 
 fancying she might be well-born, and if so the vast 
 distance heretofore existing between her and Richard 
 Assheton might be greatly diminished, if not altogether 
 removed. So rapid is the progress of thought, that 
 only a few minutes were required for this long train 
 of reflections to pass through her mind, and it was 
 merely put to flight by the approach of the main object 
 of her thoughts. 
 
 On joining the party, Richard Assheton saw plainly 
 that something had happened; but as both his sister and 
 Alizon laboured under evident embarrassment he ab- 
 stained from making inquiries as to its cause for the pre- 
 sent, hoping a better opportunity of doing so would
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 285 
 
 occur, and the conversation was kept up by Nicholas 
 Assheton, who described in his wonted lively manner 
 the encounter with Mother Chattox and Nance Redfcrne, 
 the swimming of the latter, and the trickery and punish- 
 ment of Potts. During the recital Mistress Nutter often 
 glanced uneasily at the two girls, but neither of them 
 offered any interruption, until Nicholas had finished, 
 when Dorothy taking her brother's hand, said, with 
 a look of affectionate admiration " You acted like your- 
 self, dear Richard." 
 
 Alizon did not venture to give utterance to the same 
 sentiment, but her looks plainly expressed it. 
 
 " I only wish you had punished that cruel James 
 Device as well as saved poor Nance," added Dorothy. 
 
 " Hush!" exclaimed Richard, glancing at Alizon. 
 
 " You need not be afraid of hurting her feelings," 
 cried the young lady. " She does not mind him 
 now." 
 
 "What do you mean, Dorothy?" cried Richard, in 
 surprise. 
 
 11 Oh, nothing — nothing," she replied, hastily. 
 
 " Perhaps you will explain," said Richard to Alizon. 
 
 11 Indeed I cannot," she answered, in confusion. 
 
 ci You would have laughed to see Potts creep out of 
 the river," said Nicholas, turning to Dorothy; " he 
 looked just like a drowned rat — ha ! — ha !" 
 
 " You have made a bitter enemy of him, Nicholas," 
 observed Mistress Nutter; " so look well to yourself." 
 
 11 I heed him not," rejoined the squire, " he knows me 
 now too well to meddle with me again, and I shall take
 
 286 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 good care how I put myself in his power. One thing 
 I may mention, to show the impotent malice of the 
 knave. Just as he was setting off, he said, ( This is 
 not the only discovery of witchcraft I have made to- 
 day. I have another case, nearer home.' What could 
 he mean ?" 
 
 " I know not," replied Mistress Nutter, a shade 
 of disquietude passing over her countenance. " But he is 
 quite capable of bringing the charge against you or any 
 of us." 
 
 " He is so," said Nicholas. " After what has oc- 
 curred, I wonder whether he will go over to Rough 
 Lee to-morrow. 5 ' 
 
 " Very likely not," replied Mistress Nutter, " and 
 in that case Master Roger Nowell must provide some 
 other person competent to examine the boundary-line 
 of the properties on his behalf." 
 
 " Then you are confident of the adjudication being 
 in your favour T said Nicholas. 
 
 " Quite so," replied Mistress Nutter, with a self- 
 satisfied smile. 
 
 " The result, I hope, may justify your expec- 
 tation," said Nicholas ; " but it is right to tell 
 you, that Sir Ralph, in consenting to postpone his 
 decision, has only done so out of consideration to 
 you. If the division of the properties be as repre- 
 sented by him, Master Nowell will unquestionably 
 obtain an award in his favour." 
 
 " Under such circumstances, he may," said Mistress 
 Nutter ; " but you will find the contrary turn out
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 287 
 
 to be the fact. I will show you a plan I have had 
 lately prepared, and you can then judge for your- 
 self." 
 
 While thus conversing, the party passed through a 
 door in the high stone wall dividing the garden from 
 the court, and proceeded towards the principal en- 
 trance of the mansion. Built out of the ruins of the 
 Abbey, which had served as a very convenient quarry 
 for the construction of this edifice, as well as for Port- 
 field, the house was large and irregular, planned chiefly 
 with the view of embodying part of the old abbot's lodg- 
 ing, and consisting of a wide front, with two wings, one 
 of which looked into the court, and the other, com- 
 prehending the long gallery, into the garden. The 
 old north-east gate of the Abbey, with its lofty arch- 
 way and embattled walls served as an entrance to the 
 great courtyard, and at its wicket ordinarily stood Ned 
 Huddlestone, the porter, though he was absent on the 
 present occasion, being occupied with the May Day 
 festivities. Immediately opposite the gateway sprang a 
 flight of stone steps, with a double landing-place and 
 a broad balustrade of the same material, on the lowest 
 pillar of which was placed a large escutcheon sculp- 
 tured with the arms of the family — argent, a mullet 
 sable — with a rebus on the name — an ash on a tun. 
 The great door to which these steps conducted stood 
 wide open, and before it, on the upper landing-place, 
 were collected Lady Assheton, Mistress Braddyll, Mis- 
 tress Nicholas Assheton, and some other dames, laugh- 
 ing and conversing together. Some long-eared spaniels,
 
 288 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 favourites of the lady of the house, were chasing each 
 other up and down the steps, disturbing the slumbers 
 of a couple of fine blood-hounds in the court-yard ; 
 or persecuting the proud peafowl that strutted about 
 to display their gorgeous plumage to the spectators. 
 
 On seeing the party approach, Lady Assheton came 
 down to meet them. 
 
 " You have been long absent," she said to Dorothy; 
 "but I suppose you have been exploring the ruins ?' 
 
 "Yes, we have not left a hole or corner unvisited," 
 was the reply. 
 
 " That is right," said Lady Assheton. " I knew 
 you would make a good guide, Dorothy. Of course 
 you have often seen the old conventual church before, 
 Alizon?" 
 
 " I am ashamed to say I have not, your ladyship," 
 she replied. 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed Lady Assheton; " and yet you 
 have lived all your life in the village ?" 
 
 " Quite true, your ladyship," answered Alizon ; " but 
 these ruins have been prohibited to me." 
 
 "Not by us," said Lady Assheton; " they are open 
 to every one." 
 
 " I was forbidden to visit them by my mother," said 
 Alizon. And for the first time the word " mother" 
 seemed strange to her. 
 
 Lady Assheton looked surprised, but made no remark, 
 and mounting the steps, led the way to a spacious though 
 not very lofty chamber, with huge uncovered rafters, and 
 a floor of polished oak. Over a great fire-place at one
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 289 
 
 side, furnished with immense andirons, hung a noble 
 pair of antlers, and similar trophies of the chase, were 
 affixed to other parts of the walls. Here and there 
 were likewise hung rusty skull-caps, breast-plates, two- 
 handed and single-handed swords, maces, halberts, and 
 arquebusses, with chain-shirts, buff-jerkins, match-locks, 
 and other warlike implements, amongst which were 
 several shields painted with the arms of the Asshetons 
 and their alliances. High-backed chairs of gilt leather 
 were ranged against the walls, and ebony cabinets inlaid 
 with ivory were set between them at intervals, support- 
 ing rare specimens of glass and earthenware. Opposite 
 the fire-place stood a large clock, curiously painted and 
 decorated with emblematical devices, with the signs of 
 the zodiac, and provided with moveable figures to strike 
 the hours on a bell ; while from the centre of the roof 
 hung a great chandelier of stag's horn. 
 
 Lady Assheton did not tarry long within the entrance 
 hall, for such it was, but conducted her guests through 
 an arched door- way on the right into the long gallery. 
 One hundred and fifty feet in length, and proportionately 
 wide and lofty, this vast chamber had undergone little 
 change since its original construction by the old own- 
 ers of the Abbe}'. Panelled and floored with lustrous 
 oak, and hung in some parts with antique tapestry, re- 
 presenting scriptural subjects, one side was pierced with 
 lofty pointed windows, looking out upon the garden, 
 while the southern extremity boasted a magnificent 
 window, with heavy stone mullions, though of more 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 recent workmanship than the frame-work, command- 
 ing Whalley Nab and the river. The furniture 
 of the apartment was grand but gloomy, and con- 
 sisted of antique chairs and tables belonging to the 
 Abbey. Some curious ecclesiastical sculptures, wood 
 carvings, and saintly images were placed at intervals 
 near the walls, and on the upper panels were hung a 
 row of family portraits. 
 
 Quitting the rest of the company, and proceed- 
 ing to the southern window, Dorothy invited Alizon 
 and her brother to place themselves beside her on 
 the cushioned seats of the deep embrasure. Little 
 conversation, however, ensued; Alizon's heart being 
 too full for utterance, and recent occurrences en- 
 grossing Dorothy's thoughts, to the exclusion of 
 every thing else. Having made one or two unsuccess- 
 ful efforts to engage them in talk, Richard likewise 
 lapsed into silence, and gazed out on the lovely 
 scenery before him. The evening has been described 
 as beautiful ; and the swift Calder, as it hurried by, 
 was tinged with rays of the declining sun, whilst 
 the woody heights of Whalley Nab were steeped in the 
 same rosy light. But the view failed to interest 
 Richard in his present mood, and after a brief survey, 
 he stole a look at Alizon, and was surprised to find her 
 in tears. 
 
 " What saddening thoughts cross you, fair girl ?" 
 he inquired, with deep interest. 
 
 " I can hardly account for my sudden despondency,"
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 291 
 
 she replied; "but I have heard that great happiness is 
 the precursor of dejection, and the saying I suppose 
 must be true, for I have been happier to-day than 
 I ever was before in my life. But the feeling of sadness 
 is now past," she added, smiling. 
 
 " I am glad of it," said Richard. " May I not know 
 what has occurred to you ?" 
 
 " Not at present," interposed Dorothy ; " but I am 
 sure you will be pleased when you are made acquainted 
 with the circumstance. I would tell you now if I 
 might." 
 
 u May I guess?" said Richard. 
 
 " I don't know," rejoined Dorothy, who was dying 
 to tell him. " May he ?" 
 
 u Oh no — no !" cried Alizon. 
 
 a You are very perverse," said Richard, with a look 
 of disappointment. " There can be no harm in guess- 
 ing ; and you can please yourself as to giving an 
 answer. I fancy, then, that Alizon has made some 
 discovery." 
 
 Dorothy nodded. 
 
 u Relative to her parentage?" pursued Richard. 
 
 Another nod. 
 
 " She has found out she is not Elizabeth Device's 
 daughter?" said Richard. 
 
 " Some witch must have told you this," exclaimed 
 Dorothy. 
 
 " Have I indeed guessed rightly?" cried Richard, 
 u 2
 
 292 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 with an eagerness that startled his sister. " Do not 
 keep me in suspense. Speak plainly.-' 5 
 
 " How am I to answer him, Alizon ?" said Dorothy. 
 
 a Nay, do not appeal to me, dear young lady," 
 she answered, blushing. 
 
 " I have gone too far to retreat,*" rejoined Dorothy, 
 " and therefore despite Mistress Nutter's interdiction 
 the truth shall out. Your have guessed shrewdly, 
 Richard. A discovery has been made — a very great 
 discovery. Alizon is not the daughter of Elizabeth 
 Device." 
 
 "The intelligence delights me, though it scarcely 
 surprises me," cried Richard, gazing with heartfelt 
 pleasure at the blushing girl ; " for I was sure of 
 the fact from the first. Nothing so 2:ood and charming 
 as Alizon could spring from so foul a source. How 
 and by what means you have derived this informa- 
 tion, as well as whose daughter you are, I shall wait pa- 
 tiently to learn. Enough for me you are not the sister of 
 James Device — enough, you are not the grand-child 
 of Mother Demdike." 
 
 "You know all I know, in knowing thus much," 
 replied Alizon, timidly. " And secrecy has been en- 
 joined by Mistress Nutter in order that the rest may be 
 found out. But oh ! should the hopes I have — perhaps 
 too hastily — indulged, prove fallacious — " 
 
 "They cannot be fallacious, Alizon," interrupted 
 Richard, eagerly. " On that score rest easy. Your
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 293 
 
 connexion with that wretched family is for ever broken. 
 But I can see the necessity of caution, and shall observe 
 it. And so Mistress Nutter takes an interest in you?" 
 
 " The strongest," replied Dorothy ; " but see ! she 
 comes this way." 
 
 But we must now go back for a short space. 
 
 While Mistress Nutter and Nicholas were seated at a 
 table examining a plan of the Rough Lee estates, the 
 latter was greatly astonished to see the door open 
 and give admittance to Master Potts, who he fancied 
 snugly lying between a couple of blankets, at the 
 Dragon. The attorney was clad in a riding-dress, 
 which he had exchanged for his wet habiliments, and 
 was accompanied by Sir Ralph Assheton and Master 
 Roger Nowell. On seeing Nicholas, he instantly stepped 
 up to him. 
 
 "Aha! squire," he cried, " you did not expect to 
 see me again so soon, eh ! A pottle of hot sack put 
 my blood into circulation, and having luckily a change 
 of raiment in my valise, I am all right again. Not so 
 easily got rid of, you see I" 
 
 " So it appears," replied Nicholas, laughing. 
 
 " We have a trifling account to settle together, sir," 
 said the attorney, putting on a serious look. 
 
 "Whenever you please, sir," replied Nicholas, good 
 humourcdly, tapping the hilt of his sword. 
 
 " Not in that way," cried Potts, darting quickly 
 back. "I never fight with those weapons — never. Our 
 dispute must be settled in a court of law, sir — in a court 
 of law. You understand, Master Nicholas ?"
 
 294 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " There is a shrewd maxim, Master Potts, that he who 
 is his own lawyer has a fool for his client," observed 
 Nicholas, drily. " Would it not be better to stick to 
 the defence of others rather than practise in your own 
 behalf?" 
 
 " You have expressed my opinion, Master Nicholas," 
 observed Roger No well; " and I hope Master Potts will 
 not commence any action on his own account till he has 
 finished my business." 
 
 " Assuredly not, sir, since you desire it," replied the 
 attorney, obsequiously. " But my motives must not 
 be mistaken. I have a clear case of assault and battery 
 against Master Nicholas Assheton, or I may proceed 
 against him criminally for an attempt on my life." 
 
 "Have you given him no provocation, sir?" de- 
 manded Sir Ralph, sternly. 
 
 "No provocation can justify the treatment I have 
 experienced, Sir Ralph," replied Potts. " However, 
 to show I am a man of peace, and harbour no resent- 
 ment, however just grounds I may have for such 
 a feeling, I am willing to make up the matter with 
 Master Nicholas, provided — " 
 
 a He offers you a handsome consideration, eh ?" said 
 the squire. 
 
 " Provided he offers me a handsome apology — such 
 as a gentleman may accept," rejoined Potts, conse- 
 quentially. 
 
 " And which he will not refuse, I am sure," said Sir 
 Ralph, glancing at his cousin.
 
 TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 295 
 
 11 1 should certainly be sorry to have drowned you," 
 said the squire, — " very sorry." 
 
 "Enough — enough — I am content," cried Potts, 
 holding out his hand, which Nicholas grasped with 
 an energy that brought tears into the little man's eyes. 
 
 "I am glad the matter is amicably adjusted," ob- 
 served Roger Nowell, " for I suspect both parties have 
 been to blame. And I must now request you, Master 
 Potts, to forego your search and inquiries after witches, 
 till such time as you have settled this question of the 
 boundary line for me. One matter at a time, my good 
 sir." 
 
 " But, Master Nowell," cried Potts, " my much es- 
 teemed and singular good client" — 
 
 " I will have no nay," interrupted Nowell, peremp- 
 torily. 
 
 " Hum!" muttered Potts; U I shall lose the best 
 chance of distinction ever thrown in my way." 
 
 " I care not," said Nowell. 
 
 " Just as you came up, Master Nowell," observed 
 Nicholas, " I was examining a plan of the disputed 
 estates in Pendle Forest. It differs from yours, and, if 
 correct, certainly substantiates Mistress Nutter's claim." 
 
 " I have mine with me," replied Nowell, producing 
 a plan, and opening it. " We can compare the two if 
 you please. The line runs thus: — From the foot of 
 Pendle Hill, beginning with Barley Booth, the boundary 
 is marked by a stone wall, as far as certain fields in the 
 occupation of John Ogden. Is it not so ?"
 
 296 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " It is," replied Nicholas, comparing the statement 
 with the other plan. 
 
 "It then runs on in a northerly direction," pursued 
 Nowell, " towards Burst Clough, and here the land- 
 marks are certain stones placed in the moor, one hun- 
 dred yards apart, and giving me twenty acres of this 
 land, and Mistress Nutter ten." 
 
 " On the contrary," replied Nicholas. <l This plan 
 gives Mistress Nutter twenty acres, and you ten." 
 
 " Then the plan is wrong," cried Nowell, sharply. 
 
 " It has been carefully prepared," said Mistress 
 Nutter, who had approached the table. 
 
 " No matter, it is wrong, I say," cried Nowell, 
 angrily. 
 
 " You see where the land-marks are placed, Master 
 Nowell," said Nicholas, pointing to the measurement. 
 " I merely go by them." 
 
 " The land-marks are improperly placed in that 
 plan," cried Nowell. 
 
 " I will examine them myself to-morrow," said 
 Potts, taking out a large memorandum-book ; " there 
 cannot be an error of ten acres — ten perches — or ten 
 feet, possibly, but acres — pshaw !" 
 
 " Laugh as you please ; but go on," said Mistress 
 Nutter. 
 
 " Well, then," pursued Nicholas, " the line approaches 
 the bank of a rivulet called Moss Brook — a rare 
 place for woodcocks and snipes, that Moss Brook, I 
 may remark — the land on the left consisting of five
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 297 
 
 acres of waste land, marked by a sheep-fold and two 
 posts set up in a line with it, belonging to Mistress 
 Nutter." 
 
 " To Mistress Nutter!" exclaimed Nowell, indig- 
 nantly. " To me, you mean." 
 
 "It is here set down to Mistress Nutter," said 
 Nicholas. 
 
 "Then it is set down wrongfully," cried Nowell. 
 " That plan is altogether incorrect." 
 
 " On which side of the field does the rivulet flow?" 
 inquired Potts. 
 
 " On the right," replied Nicholas. 
 
 " On the left," cried Nowell. 
 
 "There must be some extraordinary mistake," said 
 Potts. " I shall make a note of that, and examine it to- 
 morrow. — N.B. Waste land — sheep-fold — rivulet called 
 Moss Brook flowing on the left." 
 
 " On the right," cried Mistress Nutter. 
 
 "That remains to be seen," rejoined Potts, " I have 
 made the entry as on the left." 
 
 "Go on, Master Nicholas," said Nowell, " I should 
 like to see how many other errors that plan contains." 
 
 " Passing the rivulet, " pursued the squire, " we come 
 to a footpath leading to the lime-stone quarry, about 
 which there can be no mistake. Then by Cat Gallows 
 Wood, and Swallow Hole; and then by another path to 
 Worston Moor, skirting a hut in the occupation of James 
 Device — ha ! ha ! Master Jem, arc you here ? I thought 
 you dwelt with your grandmother at Malkin Tower —
 
 298 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 excuse me, Master Nowell, but one must relieve the 
 dulness of this plan by an exclamation or so — and 
 here being waste land again, the landmarks are certain 
 stones set at intervals towards Hook Cliff, and giving 
 Mistress Nutter two-thirds of the whole moor, and 
 Master Roger Nowell one-third." 
 
 " False again," cried Nowell, furiously. " The two- 
 thirds are mine, the one-third Mistress Nutter's." 
 
 li Somebody must be very wrong," cried Nicholas. 
 
 " Very wrong indeed," added Potts ; i( and I suspect 
 that that somebody is — " 
 
 " Master Nowell," said Mistress Nutter. 
 
 " Mistress Nutter," cried Master Nowell. 
 
 " Both are wrong and both right, according to your 
 own showing," said Nicholas, laughing. 
 
 " To-morrow will decide the question," said Potts. 
 
 " Better wait till then," interposed Sir Ralph. " Take 
 both plans with you, and you will then ascertain which is 
 correct." 
 
 u Agreed," cried Nowell. " Here is mine." 
 
 " And here is mine," said Mistress Nutter. " I will 
 abide by the investigation." 
 
 " And Master Potts and I will verify the statements," 
 said Nicholas. 
 
 " We will, sir," replied the attorney, putting his me- 
 morandum book in his pocket. " We will." 
 
 The plans were then delivered to the custody of Sir 
 Ralph, who promised to hand them over to Potts and 
 Nicholas on the morrow.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 299 
 
 The party then separated; Mistress Nutter shaping 
 her course towards the window where Alizon and the 
 two other young people were seated, while Potts pluck- 
 ing the squire's sleeve, said, with a very mysterious 
 look, that he desired a word with him in private. 
 Wondering what could be the nature of the commu- 
 nication the attorney desired to make, Nicholas with- 
 drew with him into a corner, and Nowell, who saw 
 them retire, and could not help watching them with 
 some curiosity, remarked that the squire's hilarious 
 countenance fell as he listened to the attorney, while on 
 the contrary, the features of the latter gleamed with ma- 
 licious satisfaction. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mistress Nutter approached Alizon, and 
 beckoning her towards her, they quitted the room to- 
 gether. As the young girl went forth, she cast a wistful 
 look at Dorothy and her brother. 
 
 " You think with me, that that lovely girl is well 
 born?" said Dorothy, as Alizon disappeared. 
 
 " It were heresy to doubt it," answered Richard. 
 
 11 Shall I tell you another secret?" she continued, 
 regarding him fixedly — " if, indeed, it be a secret, for 
 you must be sadly wanting in discernment if you have 
 not found it out ere this. She loves you." 
 
 " Dorothy!" exclaimed Richard. 
 
 " I am sure of it," she rejoined. " But I would not 
 tell you this, if I were not quite equally sure that you 
 love her in return." 
 
 " On my faith, Dorothy, you give yourself credit 
 for wonderful penetration," cried Richard.
 
 300 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Not a whit more than I am entitled to," she an- 
 swered. " Nay, it will not do to attempt concealment 
 with me. If I had not been certain of the matter before, 
 your manner now would convince me. I am very glad 
 of it. She will make a charming sister, and I shall be 
 very fond of her." 
 
 " How you do run on, madcap !" cried her brother, 
 trying to look displeased, but totally failing in assuming 
 the expression. 
 
 " Stranger things have come to pass," said Dorothy; 
 " and one reads in story-books of young nobles marrying 
 village maidens in spite of parental opposition. I dare 
 say you will get nobody's consent to the marriage but 
 mine, Richard." 
 
 " I dare say not," he replied, rather blankly. 
 
 " That is, if she should not turn out to be somebody's 
 daughter," pursued Dorothy ; " somebody, I mean, 
 quite as great as the heir of Middleton, which I make 
 no doubt she will." 
 
 " I hope she may," replied Richard. 
 
 " Why, you don't mean to say you wouldn't marry 
 her if she didn't!" cried Dorothy. "I'm ashamed of 
 you, Richard." 
 
 " It would remove all opposition, at all events," said 
 her brother. 
 
 " So it would/ 1 said Dorothy, " and now I'll tell you 
 another notion of mine, Richard. Somehow or other, 
 it has come into my head, that Alizon is the daughter 
 of — whom do you think?" 
 
 " Whom l' } he cried.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCIIES. 301 
 
 ■" Guess," she rejoined. 
 
 " I can't," lie exclaimed, impatiently. 
 
 " "Well, then, I'll tell you without more ado," she an- 
 swered. " Mind, it's only my notion, and I've no pre- 
 cise grounds for it. But in my opinion, she's the 
 daughter of the lady who has just left the room." 
 
 " Of Mistress Nutter !" ejaculated Richard, starting. 
 " What makes you think so ?" 
 
 " The extraordinary and otherwise unaccountable 
 interest she takes in her," replied Dorothy. "And, 
 if you recollect, Mistress Nutter had an infant daughter, 
 who was lost in a strange manner." 
 
 o 
 
 " I thought the child died," replied Richard, "but 
 it may be as you say. I hope it is so." 
 
 " Time will show," said Dorothy, " but I have made 
 up my mind about the matter." 
 
 At this moment, Nicholas Assheton came up to 
 them, looking grave and uneasy. 
 
 " What has happened ?" asked Richard, anxiously. 
 
 " I have just received some very unpleasant intelli- 
 gence," replied Nicholas. " I told you of a menace 
 uttered by that confounded Potts, on quitting me after 
 his ducking. He has now spoken out plainly, and 
 declares he overheard part of a conversation between 
 Mistress Nutter and Elizabeth Device, which took place 
 in the ruins of the convent church this morning, and 
 he is satisfied that — " 
 
 " Well!" cried Richard, breathlessly. 
 
 " That Mistress Nutter is a witch, and in league with 
 witches," continued Nicholas.
 
 302 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Ha!" exclaimed Richard, turning deathly pale. 
 
 " I suspect the rascal has invented the charge," said 
 Nicholas; "but he is quite unscrupulous enough to make 
 it; and if made it will be fatal to our relative's repu- 
 tation, if not to her life." 
 
 "It is false, I am sure of it," cried Richard, torn 
 by conflicting emotions. 
 
 " Would I could think so I" cried Dorothy, suddenly 
 recollecting Mistress Nutter's strange demeanour in the 
 little chapel, and the unaccountable influence she seemed 
 to exercise over the old crone. " But something has 
 occurred to-day that leads me to a contrary convic- 
 tion." 
 
 " What is it ? Speak !" cried Richard. 
 
 " Not now — not now," replied Dorothy. 
 
 "Whatever suspicions you may entertain, keep 
 silence, or you will destroy Mistress Nutter," said Ni- 
 cholas. 
 
 " Fear me not," rejoined Dorothy. " Oh, Aiizon !" 
 she murmured, " that this unhappy question should 
 arise at such a moment." 
 
 "Do you indeed believe the charge, Dorothy?" 
 asked Richard, in a low voice. 
 
 " I do," she answered in the same tcne. " If Aiizon 
 be her daughter, she can never be your wife." 
 
 " How ?" cried Richard. 
 
 "Never — never," repeated Dorothy, emphatically. 
 " The daughter of a witch, be that witch named Eliza- 
 beth Device or Alice Nutter, is no mate for you." 
 
 " You prejudge Mistress Nutter, Dorothy," he cried.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 303 
 
 " Alas, Richard, I have too good reason for what I 
 say," she answered, sadly. 
 
 Richard uttered an exclamation of despair. And on 
 the instant the lively sounds of tabor and pipe, mixed 
 with the jingling of bells, arose from the court-yard, 
 and presently afterwards an attendant entered to an- 
 nounce that the May Day revellers were without, and 
 directions were given by Sir Ralph that they should be 
 shown into the great banque ting-hall below the gallery, 
 which had been prepared for their reception.
 
 304 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE REVELATION. 
 
 On quitting the long gallery, Mistress Nutter and 
 Alizon, ascended a wide staircase, and traversing a cor- 
 ridor came to an antique, tapestried chamber, richly 
 but cumbrously furnished, having a carved oak bed- 
 stead, with sombre hangings, a few high-backed chairs 
 of the same material, and a massive wardrobe, with 
 shrine-work atop, and two finely sculptured figures, 
 of the size of life, in the habits of Cistertian monks, 
 placed as supporters at either extremity. At one side 
 of the bed the tapestry was drawn aside, showing the 
 entrance to a closet or inner room, and opposite it there 
 was a great yawning fire-place, with a lofty mantel-piece 
 and chimney proj ecting beyond the walls. The windows 
 were narrow and darkened by heavy transom bars and 
 small diamond panes, while the view without looking 
 upon Whalley Nab, was obstructed by the contiguity 
 of a tall cypress, whose funereal branches added to the 
 general gloom. The room was one of those formerly 
 allotted to their guests by the hospitable abbots, and
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 305 
 
 had undergone little change since their time, except 
 in regard to furniture ; and even that appeared old 
 and faded now. What with the gloomy arras, the 
 shrouded bedstead, and the Gothic wardrobe with its 
 mysterious figures, the chamber had a grim, ghostly air, 
 and so the young girl thought, on entering it. 
 
 " I have brought you hither, Alizon," said Mistress 
 Nutter, motioning her to a seat, " that we may con- 
 verse without chance of interruption, for I have much 
 to say. On first seeing you to-day, your appearance, so 
 superior to the rest of the May Day mummers, struck 
 me forcibly, and I resolved to question Elizabeth 
 Device about you. Accordingly, I bade her join me 
 in the Abbey gardens. She did so, and had not long 
 left me when I accidentally met you and the others 
 in the Lacy Chapel. When questioned, Elizabeth af- 
 fected great surprise, and denied positively that there was 
 any foundation for the idea, that you were other than 
 her child; but, notwithstanding her asseverations, I could 
 see from her confused manner that there was more in the 
 notion than she chose to admit, and I determined to 
 have recourse to other means of arriving at the truth, 
 little expecting my suspicions would be so soon con- 
 firmed by Mother Chattox. To my interrogation of 
 that old woman, you were yourself a party, and I am 
 now rejoiced that you interfered to prevent me from 
 prosecuting my inquiries to the utmost. There was 
 one present from whom the secret of your birth must 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 be strictly kept — at least, for awhile — andrny impatience 
 carried me too far." 
 
 i£ I only obeyed a natural impulse, madam," said 
 Alizon ; " but I am at a loss to conceive what claim I 
 can possibly have to the consideration you show me ?" 
 
 " Listen to me, and you shall learn," replied Mistress 
 Nutter. "It is a sad tale, and its recital will tear 
 open old wounds, but it must not be withheld on 
 that account. I do not ask you to bury the secrets I 
 am about to impart in the recesses of your bosom. You 
 will do so when you learn them, without my telling you. 
 When little more than your age I was wedded ; but not 
 to him I would have chosen, if choice had been per- 
 mitted me. The union I need scarcely say was un- 
 happy — most unhappy — though my discomforts were 
 scrupulously concealed, and I was looked upon as a 
 devoted wife, and my husband as a model of con- 
 jugal affection. But this was merely the surface — 
 internally all was strife and misery. Ere long my 
 dislike of my husband increased to absolute hate, 
 while on his part, though he still regarded me with 
 as much passion as heretofore, he became frantically 
 jealous — and above all of Edward Braddyll, of Port- 
 field, who as his bosom friend, and my distant 
 relative, was a frequent visitor at the house. To 
 relate the numerous exhibitions of jealousy that 
 occurred would answer little purpose, and it will be 
 enough to say that not a word or look passed be- 
 tween Edward and myself but was misconstrued. I
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 307 
 
 took care never to be alone with our guest — nor to give 
 any just ground for suspicion — but my caution availed 
 nothing. An easy remedy would have been to forbid 
 Edward the house, but this my husband's pride rejected. 
 He preferred to endure the jealous torment occasioned 
 by the presence of his wife's fancied lover, and inflict 
 needless anguish on her rather than brook the jeers 
 of a few indifferent acquaintances. The same feeling 
 made him desire to keep up an apparent good under- 
 standing with me; and so far I seconded his views, for 
 I shared in his pride, if in nothing else. Our quarrels 
 were all in private, when no eye could see us — no ear 
 listen." 
 
 " Yours is a melancholy history, madam," remarked 
 Alizon, in a tone of profound interest. 
 
 u You will think so ere I have done," returned the 
 lady, sadly. " The only person in my confidence, 
 and aware of my secret sorrows, was Elizabeth Device, 
 who with her husband, John Device, then lived at 
 Hough Lee. Serving me in the quality of 
 tire-woman and personal attendant, she could not be 
 kept in ignorance of what took place, and the poor soul 
 offered me all the sympathy in her power. Much was it 
 needed, for I had no other sympathy. After awhile, I 
 know not from what cause, unless from some imprudence 
 on the part of Edward Braddyll, who was wild and reck- 
 less, my husband conceived worse suspicions than ever 
 of me, and began to treat me with such harshness 
 and cruelty, that, unable longer to endure his violence, 
 x 2
 
 308 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 I appealed to my father. But he was of a stern and 
 arbitrary nature, and having forced me into the match, 
 would not listen to my complaints^ but bade me submit. 
 1 It was my duty to do so,' he said, and he added some 
 cutting expressions to the effect that I deserved the 
 treatment I experienced, and dismissed me. Driven to 
 desperation I sought counsel and assistance from one 
 I should most have avoided — from Edward Braddyll — 
 and he proposed flight from my husband's roof — flight 
 with him." 
 
 "But you were saved, madam?" cried Alizon, greatly 
 shocked by the narration. " You were saved ?" 
 
 " Hear me out," rejoined Mistress Nutter. " Out- 
 raged as my feelings were, and loathsome as my husband 
 was to me, I spurned the base proposal, and instantly 
 quitted my false friend. Nor would I have seen 
 him more, if permitted; but that secret interview with 
 him was my first and last ; — for it had been witnessed 
 by my husband. 5 ' 
 
 "Ha!" exclaimed Alizon. 
 
 " Concealed behind the arras, Richard Nutter 
 heard enough to confirm his worst suspicions," pur- 
 sued the lady, " but he did not hear my justification. 
 He saw Edward Braddyll at my feet — he heard 
 him urge me to fly — but he did not wait to learn 
 if I consented, and looking upon me as guilty, left his 
 hiding-place, to take measures for frustrating the plan 
 he supposed concerted between us. That night I was 
 made prisoner in my room, and endured treatment 
 the most inhuman. But a proposal was made by my
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 309 
 
 husband, that promised some alleviation of my suf- 
 fering. Henceforth we were to meet only in public, 
 when a semblance of affection was to be maintained on 
 both sides. This was done, he said, to save my cha- 
 racter, and preserve his own name unspotted in the 
 eyes of others, however tarnished it might be in his own. 
 I willingly consented to the arrangement; and thus, for a 
 brief space, I became tranquil, if not happy. But an- 
 other and severer trial awaited me." 
 
 "Alas, madam!" exclaimed Alizon, sympathisingly. 
 
 " My cup of sorrow, I thought, was full," pur- 
 sued Mistress Nutter, " but the drop was wanting 
 to make it overflow. It came soon enough. Amidst 
 my griefs, I expected to be a mother, and with that 
 thought how many fond and cheering anticipations 
 mingled! In my child I hoped to find a balm for 
 my woes : in its smiles and innocent endearments a 
 compensation for the harshness and injustice I had 
 experienced. How little did I foresee that it was 
 to be a new instrument of torture to me ; and that I 
 should be cruelly robbed of the only blessing ever 
 vouchsafed me !" 
 
 u Did the child die, madam ?" asked Alizon. 
 
 " You shall hear," replied Mistress Nutter. " A 
 daughter was born to me. I was made happy by 
 its birth. A new existence, bright and unclouded, 
 seemed dawning upon me ; but it was like a sun- 
 burst on a stormy day. Some two months before this 
 event, Elizabeth Device had given birth to a daughter, 
 and she now took my child under her fostering care,
 
 310 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 for weakness prevented me from affording it the sup- 
 port it is a mother's blessed privilege to bestow. She 
 seemed as fond of it as myself ; and never was babe 
 more calculated to win love than my little Millicent. 
 Oh ! how shall I go on ! The retrospect I am com- 
 pelled to take is frightful, but I cannot shun it. 
 The foul and false suspicions entertained by my 
 husband began to settle on the child. He would 
 not believe it to be his own. With violent oaths 
 and threats he first announced his odious suspicions 
 to Elizabeth Device, and she full of terror commu- 
 nicated them to me. The tidings filled me with inex- 
 pressible alarm, for I knew if the dread idea had 
 once taken possession of him it would never be re- 
 moved, while what he threatened would be exe- 
 cuted. I would have fled at once with my poor babe 
 if I had known where to go; but I had no place 
 of shelter. It would be in vain to seek refuge with 
 my father ; and I had no other relative or friend whom 
 1 could trust. Where then should I fly ? At last 
 I bethought me of a retreat, and arranged a plan of 
 escape with Elizabeth Device. Vain were my precau- 
 tions. On that very night, I was startled from slumber 
 by a sudden cry from the nurse, who was seated by the fire, 
 with the child on her knees. It was long past midnight, 
 and all the household were at rest. Two persons had en- 
 tered the room. One was my ruthless husband, Richard 
 Nutter ; the other was John Device, a powerful, ruf- 
 fianly fellow, who planted himself near the door. 
 
 "Marching quickly towards Elizabeth, who had
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 311 
 
 arisen on seeing him, my husband snatched the child from 
 her before I could seize it, and with a violent blow on the 
 chest felled me to the ground, where I lay help- 
 less, speechless. With reeling senses I heard Eliza- 
 beth cry out that it was her own child, and call upon 
 her husband to save it. Richard Nutter paused, but 
 re-assured by a laugh of disbelief from his ruffianly fol- 
 lower, he told Elizabeth the pitiful excuse would not 
 avail to save the brat. And then I saw a weapon gleam 
 — there was a feeble piteous cry — a cry that might 
 have moved a demon — but it did not move him. With 
 wicked words and blood-imbrued hands he cast the body 
 on the fire. The horrid sight was too much for me. 
 and I became senseless." 
 
 " A dreadful tale, indeed, madam!" cried Alizou, 
 frozen with horror. 
 
 " The crime was hidden — hidden from the eyes of 
 men — but mark the retribution that followed," said 
 Mistress Nutter, her eyes sparkling with vindictive joy. 
 " Of the two murderers both perished miserably. John 
 Device was drowned in a moss pool. Richard Nutter's 
 end was terrible, sharpened by the pangs of remorse, 
 and marked by frightful sufTering. But another dark 
 event preceded his death, which may have laid a crime 
 the more on his already heavily-burdened soul. Ed- 
 ward Braddyll, the object of his jealousy and hate, 
 suddenly sickened of a malady so strange and fearful 
 that all who saw him affirmed it the result of witchcraft. 
 None thought of my husband's agency in the dark affair 
 except myself, but knowing he had held many secret con-
 
 312 THE LANCASHIEE WITCHES. 
 
 ferences about the time with Mother Chattox, I more 
 than suspected him. The sick man died. And from 
 that hour Richard Nutter knew no rest. Ever on 
 horseback, or fiercely carousing, he sought in vain to- 
 stifle remorse. Visions scared him by night, and vague 
 fears pursued him by day. He would start at sha- 
 dows and talk wildly. To me his whole demeanour 
 was altered ; and he strove by every means in his 
 power to win my love. But he could not give me 
 back the treasure he had taken. He could not bring 
 to life my murdered babe. Like his victim, he fell ill 
 on a sudden, and of a strange and terrible sickness. 
 I saw he could not recover, and therefore tended him? 
 carefully. He died ; and I shed no tear." 
 
 "Alas!" exclaimed Alizon, " though guilty, lean- 
 not but compassionate him." 
 
 " You are right to do so, Alizon," said Mistress Nut- 
 ter, rising, while the young girl rose too ; " for he was- 
 your father." 
 
 " My father !" she exclaimed, in amazement. " Then 
 you are my mother ?" 
 
 u I am — I am/' replied Mistress Nutter, straining 
 her to her bosom. " Oh, my child ! — my dear child !" 
 she cried. "The voice of nature from the first 
 pleaded eloquently in your behalf, and I should 
 have been deaf to all impulses of affection if I had not 
 listened to the call. I now trace in every feature the 
 lineaments of the babe I thought lost for ever. All 
 is clear to me. The exclamation of Elizabeth De- 
 vice, which, like my ruthless husband, I looked upon
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 313 
 
 as an artifice to save the infant's life, I now find to 
 be the truth. Her child perished instead of mine. 
 How or why she exchanged the infants on that night 
 remains to be explained, but that she did so is 
 certain ; while that she should afterwards conceal the 
 circumstance is easily comprehended, from a natural 
 dread of her own husband as well as of mine. It is 
 possible from some cause she may still deny the truth, but 
 I can make it her interest to speak plainly. The main 
 difficulty will lie in my public acknowledgment of 
 you. But at whatever cost, it shall be made."" 
 
 " Oh ! consider it well," said Alizon. " I will be 
 your daughter in love — in duty — in all but name. But 
 sully not my poor father's honour, which even at the 
 peril of his soul he sought to maintain ! How can I 
 be owned as your daughter without involving the dis- 
 covery of this tragic history?" 
 
 " You are right, Alizon," rejoined Mistress Nutter, 
 thoughtfully. " It will bring the dark deed to light. 
 But you shall never return to Elizabeth Device. You 
 shall go with me to Rough Lee, and take up your 
 abode in the house where I was once so wretched — but 
 where I shall now be full of happiness with you. You 
 shall see the dark spots on the hearth, which I took 
 to be your blood." 
 
 " If not mine it was blood spilt by my father," said 
 Alizon, with a shudder. 
 
 Was it fancy, or did a low groan break upon her ear? 
 It must be imaginary, for Mistress Nutter seemed uncon- 
 cious of the dismal sound. It was now erowinsr
 
 314 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 rapidly dark, and the more distant objects in the 
 room were wrapped in obscurity ; but Alizon's gaze 
 rested on the two monkish figures supporting the ward- 
 robe. 
 
 " Look there, mother," she said to Mistress Nutter. 
 
 " Where ?" cried the lady, turning round quickly, 
 "Ah! I see. You alarm yourself needlessly, my 
 child. Those are only carved figures of two brethren 
 of the Abbey. They are said — I know not with what 
 truth — to be statues of John Paslew and Borlace 
 Alvetham." 
 
 " I thought they stirred," said Alizon. 
 
 " It was mere fancy," replied Mistress Nutter. 
 " Calm yourself, sweet child. Let us think of other 
 things — of our newly-discovered relationship. Hence- 
 forth, to me you are Millicent Nutter; though to others, 
 you must still be Alizon Device. My sweet Millicent," 
 she cried, embracing her again and again, u Ah, little, 
 little did I think to see you more !" 
 
 Alizon's fears were speedily chased away. 
 
 " Forgive me, dear mother," she cried, " if I have 
 failed to express the full delight I experience in my 
 restitution to you. The shock of your sad tale at 
 first deadened my joy, while the suddenness of the in- 
 formation respecting myself so overwhelmed me, that 
 like one chancing upon a hidden treasure, and gazing 
 at it confounded, I was unable to credit my own good 
 fortune. Even now I am quite bewildered ; and no 
 wonder, for many thoughts, each of different import, 
 throng upon me. Independently of the pleasure and
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCIIES. 3 15 
 
 natural pride I must feel in being acknowledged by 
 you as a daughter, it is a source of the deepest 
 satisfaction to me to know that I am not, in any 
 way, connected with Elizabeth Device — not from her 
 humble station — for poverty weighs little with me in 
 comparison with virtue and goodness — but from her 
 sinfulness. You know the dark offence laid to her 
 charge ?" 
 
 " I do," replied Mistress Nutter, in a low deep tone ; 
 " but I do not believe it." 
 
 " Nor I," returned Alizon. " Still, she acts as if 
 she were the wicked thing she is called ; avoids all 
 religious offices ; shuns all places of worship ; and de- 
 rides the Holy Scriptures. Oh ! mother, you will com- 
 prehend the frequent conflict of feelings I must have 
 endured. You will understand my horror when I have 
 sometimes thought myself the daughter of a witch." 
 
 M Why did you not leave her if you thought so ?" 
 said Mistress Nutter, frowning. 
 
 " I could not leave her," replied Alizon, " for I then 
 thought her my mother." 
 
 Mistress Nutter fell upon her daughter's neck, and 
 wept aloud. 
 
 " You have an excellent heart, my child," she said, 
 at length, checking her emotion. 
 
 " I have nothing to complain of in Elizabeth Device, 
 dear mother," she replied. " What she denied herself, 
 she did not refuse me ; and though I have necessarily 
 many and great deficiencies, you will find in me, I 
 trust, no evil principles. And, oh ! shall we not strive
 
 316 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 to rescue that poor benighted creature from the pit? 
 We may yet save her." 
 
 " It is too late," replied Mistress Nutter, in a sombre 
 tone. 
 
 " It cannot be too late," said Alizon, confidently. 
 " She cannot be beyond redemption. But even if she 
 should prove intractable, poor little Jennet may be 
 preserved. She is yet a child, with some good — though, 
 alas ! much evil, also, in her nature. Let our united 
 efforts be exerted in this good work, and we must 
 succeed. The weeds extirpated, the flowers will spring 
 up freely, and bloom in beauty." 
 
 " I can have nothing to do with her," said Mistress 
 Nutter, in a freezing tone, — " nor must you." 
 
 "Oh! say not so, mother," cried Alizon. "You 
 rob me of half the happiness I feel in being re- 
 stored to you. When I was Jennet's sister, I devoted 
 myself to the task of reclaiming her. I hoped to be 
 her guardian angel — to step between her and the assaults 
 of evil — and I cannot, will not, now abandon her. If 
 no longer my sister, she is still dear to me. And recol- 
 lect that I owe a deep debt of gratitude to her 
 mother — a debt I can never pay." 
 
 " How so ?" cried Mistress Nutter. " You owe her 
 nothing — but the contrary." 
 
 "I owe her a life," said Alizon. "Was not her 
 infant's blood poured out for mine ! And shall I not 
 save the child left her, if I can?' 1 
 
 " I shall not oppose your inclinations," replied 
 Mistress Nutter, with reluctant assent ; " but Eliza-
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 317 
 
 beth, I suspect, will thank you little for your inter- 
 ference." 
 
 " Not now, perhaps," returned Alizon ; " but a time 
 will come when she will do so." 
 
 While this conversation took place, it had been ra- 
 pidly growing dark, and the gloom, at length, increased 
 so much, that the speakers could scarcely see each 
 other's faces. The sudden and portentous darkness 
 was accounted for, by a vivid flash of lightning, fol- 
 lowed by a low growl of thunder, rumbling over 
 Whalley Nab. The mother and daughter drew close 
 together, and Mistress Nutter passed her arm round 
 Alizon's neck. 
 
 The storm came quickly on, with forked and dan- 
 gerous lightning, and loud claps of thunder threatening 
 mischief. Presently, all its fury seemed collected over 
 the Abbey. The red flashes hissed, and the peals of 
 thunder rolled over head. But other terrors were added 
 to Alizon's natural dread of the elemental warfare. 
 Again she fancied the two monkish figures which had 
 before excited her alarm, moved, and even shook their 
 arms menacingly at her. At first she attributed this wild 
 idea to her overwrought imagination, and strove to con- 
 vince herself of its fallacy by keeping her eyes steadily 
 fixed upon them. But each succeeding flash only served 
 to confirm her superstitious apprehensions. 
 
 Another circumstance contributed to heighten her 
 alarm. Scared most probably by the storm, a large white 
 owl fluttered down the chimney, and after wheeling 
 twice or thrice round the chamber, settled upon the bed,
 
 318 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 hooting, puffing, ruffling its feathers, and glaring at 
 her with eyes that glowed like fiery coals. 
 
 Mistress Nutter seemed little moved by the storm, 
 though she kept a profound silence, but when Alizon 
 gazed in her face she was frightened by its expres- 
 sion, which reminded her of the terrible aspect she had 
 worn at the interview with Mother Chattox. 
 
 All at once, Mistress Nutter arose, and, rapid as the 
 lightning playing around her and revealing her 
 movements, made several passes, with extended hands, 
 over her daughter; and on this the latter instantly fell 
 back, as if fainting, though still retaining her conscious- 
 ness, and what was stranger still, though her eyes were 
 closed, her power of sight remained. 
 
 In this condition she fancied invisible forms were 
 moving about her. Strange sounds seemed to salute 
 her ears, like the gibbering of ghosts, and she thought 
 she felt the flapping of unseen wings around her. 
 
 All at once her attention was drawn — she knew 
 not why — towards the closet, and from out it she fancied 
 she saw issue the tall dark figure of a man. She was sure 
 she saw him, for her imagination could not body forth 
 features charged with such a fiendish expression, or eyes 
 of such unearthly lustre. He was clothed in black, but 
 the fashion of his raiments was unlike aught she had ever 
 seen. His stature was gigantic, and a pale phos- 
 phoric light enshrouded him. As he advanced forked 
 lightnings shot into the room, and the thunder split 
 overhead. The owl hooted fearfully, quitted its perch, 
 and flew off by the way it had entered the chamber.
 
 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 319 
 
 The Dark Shape came on. It stood beside Mistress 
 Nutter, and she prostrated herself before it. The ges- 
 tures of the figure were angry and imperious — those 
 of Mistress Nutter supplicating. Their converse was 
 drowned by the rattling of the storm. At last the 
 figure pointed to Alizon, and the word " Midnight" 
 broke in tones louder than the thunder from its lips. 
 All consciousness then forsook her. 
 
 How long she continued in this state she knew not, 
 but the touch of a finger applied to her brow seemed to 
 reach her suddenly to animation. She heaved a deep 
 sigh, and looked around. A wondrous change had 
 occurred. The storm had passed off, and the moon 
 was shining brightly over the top of the cypress tree, 
 flooding the chamber with its gentle radiance, while 
 her mother was bending over her with looks of ten- 
 derest affection. 
 
 "You are better now, sweet child," said Mistress 
 Nutter. " You were overcome by the storm. It was 
 sudden and terrible." 
 
 41 Terrible indeed!" replied Alizon, imperfectly re- 
 calling what had passed. " But it was not alone the 
 storm that frightened me. This chamber has been in- 
 vaded by evil beings. Methought I beheld a dark 
 figure come from out yon closet, and stand before you?" 
 
 lf You have been thrown into a state of stupor by the 
 influence of the electric fluid," replied Mistress Nutter, 
 " and while in that condition visions have passed 
 through your brain. That is all, my child." 
 
 " Oh ! I hope so," said Alizon.
 
 320 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 
 
 " Sucli ecstacies are of frequent occurrence," replied 
 Mistress Nutter. "But since you are quite reco- 
 vered, we will descend to Lady Assheton, who may 
 wonder at our absence. You will share this room 
 with me to-night, my child, for as I have already 
 said, you cannot return to Elizabeth Device. I will 
 make all needful explanations to Lady Assheton, and 
 will see Elizabeth in the morning — perhaps, to-night. 
 Re-assure yourself, sweet child. There is nothing to 
 fear." 
 
 " I trust not, mother," replied Alizon. " But it 
 would ease my mind to look into that closet?" 
 
 ' ' Do so, then, by all means," replied Mistress Nutter, 
 with a forced smile. 
 
 Alizon peeped timorously into the little room, which 
 was lighted up by the moon's rays. There was a faded 
 white habit like the robe of a Cistertian monk hanging 
 in one corner, and beneath it an old chest. Alizon 
 would fain have opened the chest, but Mistress Nutter 
 called out to her impatiently, " You will discover no- 
 thing, I am sure. Come, let us go down stairs." 
 
 And they quitted the room together. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 C. WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND.
 

 
 ■Z^ 
 
 -*V?Y 
 
 
 ^ <