"Edmund Robinson of Pendle, father of ye sd Edmunde Robinson, the aforesaid informer, upon oath saith, that upon All Saints' Day, he sent his sone, the aforesed informer, to fetch home two kyne to seale, and saith yt hee thought his sone stayed longer than he should have done, went to seeke him, and in seekinge him, heard him cry very pittifully, and found him soe afraid and distracted, yt hee neither knew his father, nor did know where he was, and so continued very neare a quarter of an hower before he came to himselfe,[58] and he tould this informer, his father, all the particular passages yt are before declared in the said Edmund Robinson, his sone's information."
The name of Margaret Johnson does not appear in Edmund Robinson's examination. Whether accused or not, the opportunity was too alluring to be lost by a personage full of matter, being like old Mause Headrigg, "as a bottle that lacketh vent," and too desirous of notoriety, to let slip such an occasion. She made, on the 2nd of March following, before the same justices who had taken Robinson's examination, the following confession, which must have been considered a most instructive one by those who were in search of some short vade mecum of the statistics of witchcraft in Pendle:—
"The Confession of Margaret Johnson.
"That betwixt seaven and eight yeares since, shee beeinge in her owne house in Marsden, in a greate passion of anger and discontent, and withall pressed with some want, there appeared unto her a spirit or devill in ye proportion or similitude of a man, apparrelled in a suite of blacke, tyed about with silk points, who offered yt if shee would give him her soule hee would supply all her wants, and bringe to her whatsoever shee did neede. And at her appointment would in revenge either kill or hurt whom or what shee desyred, weare it man or beast. And saith, yt after a solicitation or two shee contracted and covenanted with ye said devill for her soule. And yt ye said devill or spirit badde her call him by the name of Mamilian. And when shee would have him to doe any thinge for her, call in Mamilian, and hee would bee ready to doe her will. And saith, yt in all her talke or conference shee calleth her said devill, Mamil my God. Shee further saith, yt ye said Mamilian, her devill, (by her consent) did abuse and defile her body by comittinge wicked uncleannesse together. And saith, yt shee was not at the greate meetings at Hoarestones, at the forest of Pendle, upon All-Saints Day, where ——. But saith yt shee was at a second meetinge ye Sunday next after All-Saints Day, at the place aforesaid; where there was at yt tyme between 30 and 40 witches, who did all ride to the said meetinge, and the end of theire said meeting was to consult for the killinge and hurtinge of men and beasts. And yt besides theire particular familiars or spirits, there was one greate or grand devill or spirit more eminent than the rest. And if any desyre to have a greate and more wonderfull devill, whereby they may have more power to hurt, they may have one such. And sayth, yt such witches as have sharp bones given them by the devill to pricke them, have no pappes or dugges whereon theire devill may sucke, but theire devill receiveth bloud from the place, pricked with the bone. And they are more grand witches than any yt have marks. Shee allsoe saith, yt if a witch have but one marke, shee hath but one spirit, if two then two spirits, if three yet but two spirits. And saith, yt theire spirits usually have knowledge of theire bodies. And being desyred to name such as shee knewe to be witches, shee named, &c.[59] And if they would torment a man, they bid theire spirit goe and tormt. him in any particular place. And yt Good-Friday is one constant day for a yearely generall meetinge of witches. And yt on Good-Friday last, they had a meetinge neare Pendle water syde. Shee alsoe saith, that men witches usually have women spirits, and women witches men spirits. And theire devill or spirit gives them notice of theire meetinge, and tells them the place where it must bee. And saith, if they desyre to be in any place upon a sodaine, theire devill or spirit will upon a rodde, dogge, or any thinge els, presently convey them thither: yea, into any roome of a man's house. But shee saith it is not the substance of theire bodies, but theire spirit assumeth such form and shape as goe into such roomes. Shee alsoe saith, yt ye devill (after he begins to sucke) will make a pappe or dugge in a short tyme, and the matter which hee sucks is blood. And saith yt theire devills can cause foule weather and storms, and soe did at theire meetings. Shee alsoe saith yt when her devill did come to sucke her pappe, hee usually came to her in ye liknes of a cat, sometymes of one colour and sometymes of an other. And yt since this trouble befell her, her spirit hath left her, and shee never sawe him since."
On the evidence contained in these examinations several persons were committed for trial at Lancaster, and seventeen, on being tried at the ensuing assizes, were found guilty by the jury. The judge before whom the trial took place was, however, more sagacious and enlightened than his predecessors, Bromley and Altham. He respited the execution of the prisoners; and on the case being reported to the king in council, the Bishop of Chester, Dr. Bridgman, was required to investigate the circumstances. The inquiry was instituted at Chester, and four of the convicted witches, namely, Margaret Johnson, Frances Dickonson, Mary Spencer, and the wife of one of the Hargreaves's, were sent to London, and examined, first by the king's physicians and surgeons, and afterwards by Charles the first in person.
"A stranger scene" to quote Dr. Whitaker's concluding paragraph "can scarcely be conceived; and it is not easy to imagine whether the untaught manners, rude dialect, and uncouth appearance of these poor foresters, would more astonish the king; or his dignity of person and manners, together with the splendid scene with which they were surrounded, would overwhelm them. The end, however, of the business was, that strong presumptions appeared of the boy having been suborned to accuse them falsely, and they were accordingly dismissed. The boy afterwards confessed that he was suborned."[60]
In Dr. Whitaker's astonishment that Margaret Johnson should make the confession she appears to have done, in a clear case of imposture, few of his readers will be disposed to participate, who are at all conversant with the trials of reputed witches in this country. Confessions were so common on those occasions, that there is, I believe, not a single instance of any great number of persons being convicted of witchcraft at one time, some of whom did not make a confession of guilt. Nor is there anything extraordinary in that circumstance, when it is remembered that many of them sincerely believed in the existence of the powers attributed to them; and others, aged and of weak understanding, were, in a measure, coerced by the strong persuasion of their guilt, which all around them manifested, into an acquiescence in the truth of the accusation. In many cases the confessions were made in the hope, and no doubt with the promise, seldom performed, that a respite from punishment would be eventually granted. In other instances, there is as little doubt, that they were the final results of irritation, agony, and despair.[61] The confessions are generally composed of "such stuff as dreams are made of," and what they report to have occurred, might either proceed, when there was no intention to fabricate, from intertwining the fantastic threads which sometimes stream upon the waking senses from the land of shadows, or be caused by those ocular hallucinations of which medical science has supplied full and satisfactory solution. There is no argument which so long maintained its ground in support of witchcraft as that which was founded on the confessions referred to. It was the last plank clung to by many a witch-believing lawyer and divine. And yet there is none which will less bear critical scrutiny and examination, or the fallacy of which can more easily be shown, if any particular reported confession is taken as a test and subjected to a searching analysis and inquiry.
It is said that we owe to the grave and saturnine Monarch, who extended his pardon to the seventeen convicted in 1633, that happy generalisation of the term, which appropriates honourably to the sex in Lancashire the designation denoting the fancied crime of a few miserable victims of superstition. That gentle sex will never repudiate a title bestowed by one, little given to the playful sports of fancy, whose sorrows and unhappy fate have never wanted their commiseration, and who distinguished himself on this memorable occasion, at a period when
"'twas the time's plague
That madmen led the blind,"
—in days when philosophy stumbled and murder arrayed itself in the robes of justice—by an enlightened exercise of the kingly prerogative of mercy. Proceeding from such a fountain of honour, and purified by such an appropriation, the title of witch has long lost its original opprobrium in the County Palatine, and survives only to call forth the gayest and most delightful associations. In process of time even the term witchfinder may lose the stains which have adhered to it from the atrocities of Hopkins, and may be adopted by general usage, as a sort of companion phrase, to signify the fortunate individual, who, by an union with a Lancashire witch, has just asserted his indefeasible title to be considered as the happiest of men.