During the last century, when such large numbers of felons for various crimes found their way to the gallows, there appears to have been an idea prevalent that if any woman would agree to marry a man under the gallows he would be entitled to pardon, and under the influence of this curious notion, a man executed at Cambridge in 1787, just before the fatal moment arrived, seeing a woman in the crowd whom he knew, called out to her "Won't you save my life?" This tragic fashion of popping the question was not effectual in this case, for the man was hung!
The use of charms for curing diseases was of course in operation. Perhaps the most unique of these was the plan apparently adopted by the "celebrated skilful woman at Shepreth." Who the skilful woman of Shepreth was I am unable to say, but we may perhaps infer the nature of her fame and skill from the fact on record that a man, who was said to be one of her descendants, did in 1774, when called in to see a butcher who had run a meat hook into his hand, carefully dress the offending hook from day to day with healing ointment, &c., and left the man's hand alone till it got so bad that a surgeon was called in and had to perform an operation!
There were later examples of the remarkably skilful woman of Shepreth—the "wise woman" at Fulbourn; "The wise woman in the Falcon Yard," at Cambridge; and I have no doubt almost every village had at least by repute its wise woman who could, for a consideration, unravel all mysteries about stolen property, malicious injuries, and a host of things amenable to the black art often vulgarly called witchcraft, in the name of which perfectly innocent creatures had in a previous age got a ducking in a horse pond, if nothing worse!
When pretenders of this stamp, and more innocent and less designing individuals, who were guilty of nothing worse than an imperfect use of herbal medicine, were suspected of evil influences, it is not surprising that the studious who ventured to investigate the mysteries lying beyond the common run of information should get a share of that peculiar homage which ignorance paid to knowledge. There were, here and there, individuals, the record of whose eccentricity opens up for us vistas into the marvellous domain of magic and mystery which cast its glamour of romance over the old world of the alchemist in pursuit of the philosopher's stone. One of the most remarkable of latter-day disciples of Peter Woulfe, of whom some interesting particulars are given in Timbs' Modern Eccentrics, has a peculiar claim to notice here, if only for having for many years pursued his studies and experiments in the neighbourhood of Hitchin.
As late as 1825, twenty years after the death of Peter Woulfe, who was thought to be the last of the true believers in alchemy, Sir Richard Phillips visited an alchemist at Lilley, near Hitchin, named Kellerman, who was believed by some of his neighbours to have discovered the philosopher's stone, and the universal solvent! His room was a realization of Tenier's "Alchemist." The floor was strewed with retorts, crucibles, alembics, jars, and bottles of various shapes, inter-mingled with old books. This worthy had not only bettered all the work of his predecessors, but had, after repeated failures, at last made gold; and, what was more, he could make as much more as he pleased, even to the extent of paying off the National Debt! In justification of his singular pursuits, Kellerman quoted Roger and Francis Bacon, Paracelsus, Boyle, Boerhave, Woulfe, and others, and claimed that he had discovered the "blacker than black" of Appollonious Tyanus, which was the powder of projection for producing gold! It further appeared that Kellerman had lived in these premises at Lilley twenty-three years, during fourteen of which he had pursued his alchemical studies, keeping eight assistants to superintend his crucibles, two at a time relieving each other every six hours; that he had exposed some preparation to intense heat for many months at a time, but that all his crucibles had burst except one, which Kellerman said contained the "Blacker than Black." One of his assistants, however, protested that no gold had ever been found; and so, even persevering old Kellerman, the last of his race, who dared to speculate with the iron horse just behind him, disappears from the scene, discredited by the Phillistines, who calculate but never dream!