But this did not stamp out the Lancashire witches, for so long as the people continued to believe in their supernatural powers, so long would the supply be equal to the demand. In 1633 another batch of seventeen witches of Pendle were commanded to take their trial at Lancaster assizes, and, singularly enough, one of the convicting justices was the John Starkie who in 1596 was himself the subject of demoniac possession ([see p. 114]).

The chief witness in this case was a stonemason, who on oath declared that he had seen two greyhounds, with which he tried to hunt a hare; but they refused to run, and on his beating them, they immediately became transformed, one into Dickonson’s wife, and the other into a little boy; the former put a kind of bridle on the head of the latter, and he became a white horse, upon which she jumped, and, placing the witness before her, she rode away with him to a place called Hoarstones (in Whalley), which was about a quarter of a mile off, where he found a number of persons coming, all riding on “horses of several colours.” After this interesting congregation had feasted in the house, they adjourned to the barn, where he saw six of them kneeling and pulling at six ropes fastened to the roof, “at or with which pulling came flesh smoakeinge, butter in lumps, and milk.” Whilst they were thus exercised they “made such foule faces that feared him, so that he was glad to steale out and run home.” Margaret Johnson, though not one of the accused, confessed that she had been at a meeting at Hoarstones, where there were present between thirty and forty witches; she also said that “men witches usually have women spirits, and women witches men spirits,” and that Good Friday was the “constant day for a yearly meeting of witches.” All these prisoners were found guilty by the jury, but the judge delayed the execution of the sentence, and the matter in the meantime coming to the ears of the King, four of the convicted were sent up to London to be examined by the royal physicians and surgeons, and ultimately were brought before the King himself. The result of all this was an acquittal of the lot. It was upon this case of witch–finding that Heywood and Broome founded their play of “The Late Lancashire Witches,” London, 1634, and Mother Demdike is one of the characters in Shadwell’s “Lancaster Witches,” a comedy, London, 1682. Harrison Ainsworth’s novel, “The Lancashire Witches,” has the same subject. After this, the “profession” of witchcraft appears to have gradually died out, but the demoniac possession was harder to slay, as the exorcising of these spirits was a power highly valued alike by Roman Catholic priest and Puritan divine. At Downham, near Clitheroe, a case was reported, with the usual “godly minister” as voucher[127] again, in 1696, and the Vicar of Walton–on–the Hill furnished an account of another case which had taken place about half a century earlier, and in which the priest at Madame Westby’s (of Mowbrick in Kirkham) and the Rector of Croston having failed to effect a cure, the possessed one was sent to Dr. Sylvester, of Liverpool, who physicked the “devil out of him.”

Towards the end of the century several other cases are on record where the priest is said to have exorcised the spirit. But the most famous instance of this class of deceptions was what is known as the “Surey demoniac,” from its hero having lived at Surey, in the parish of Whalley. The boy who was possessed was one Richard Dugdale, aged nineteen, the son of a gardener, and he apparently had all the symptoms required for the occasion, and acted the part required of him to perfection. Amongst other things he was seen to vomit stones, silver and gold curtain rings; he could make himself “as light as a feather bouster,” or as “heavy as a load of corn”; he had ventriloquial powers, and could speak out of the earth, and all these were accompanied with the more violent signs, such as convulsions, contortions, shoutings, and the like. The curious part of this is the ready credence which was given to it. Amongst those who subscribed their names to the account of this youth’s performances, and asserted their opinions that the whole was true, and that this was a genuine case of diabolical possession, which was beyond the reach of the medical man, and could only be dealt with by prayer and fasting, were: the minister of Toxteth Chapel, near Liverpool; Samuel Angier, minister of Denton; Richard Frankland, M.A., sometime Vice–President of the Presbyterian College of Durham; Thomas Jolly, ejected minister of Altham; Henry Pendlebury, minister of Holcombe Chapel; Nathaniel Heywood, the ejected Vicar of Ormskirk; and Dr. Robert Whittaker, of Burnley; and besides these over thirty people gave evidence, many of them on oath, as to the truth of the details furnished before Hugh, Lord Willoughby, and Ralph Egerton, Esq., two justices of the peace. The first pamphlet, giving an account of “Satan’s Strange and Dreadful Actings in and about the Body of Richard Dugdale,” was published in London in 1697, and it called forth replies and counter–replies, the Rev. Thomas Jolly being one of the writers in support of the demoniac; and the Rev. Zachary Taylor, Vicar of Croston, one of those who believed the whole affair a “fanatical imposture.”[128] For long years after this the belief in the efficacy of certain “charms,” as well as the tales of the fortune–telling gipsies, lingered in the county, and even yet occasionally, on pulling down old barns and farmhouses, there are found hidden away amongst the rafters small boxes containing charms written on paper in a peculiar cipher, mixed up with signs of the planets, etc., the whole purporting to be all–powerful to drive away all evil spirits from the building;[129] these writings are probably not more than 150 years old.

The visit of James I. to Lancashire cannot be passed over, as it was in consequence of this visit that the King issued the famous “Book of Sports,” which created such indignation in the minds of some of his subjects. Early in August, 1617, the King, on his return from Carlisle, reached Hornby Castle, the seat of Lord Monteagle, from whence he went to Ashton Hall, the home of Lord Gerard, and after staying there one night he went on to Myerscough Lodge, the seat of Edward Tyldesley, Esq. Here, on August 12, Sir Richard Hoghton, with a retinue of gentlemen, went to meet the King, who arrived in his coach, and having had pointed out to him where the forest began, his Majesty commenced to hunt, and during the day he killed a buck. On the following day the King again hunted in Myerscough Forest, and succeeded in slaying five bucks, after which he made a speech to the gentlemen present on the subject of “pipeing and honest recreation.” On the 14th the town of Preston was in a high state of excitement, preparing for the royal visitor, and the good old town was full of strangers, who had come to welcome King James. On the 15th the King arrived at Preston, and proceeded to the cross in the market–place, where the Recorder made a speech and the Corporation presented to his Majesty “a bowle.” Perhaps the good Prestonians were animated with a better spirit than that which stirred the Mayor of Chester on a similar occasion, when he exclaimed:

A cupp with gold unto your grace I’ll bringe,

In hope to us you’ll give a better thinge;

For Ile be sworne itt did not goe near our heart

When from so manie gold angells wee did parte.[130]

The Corporation then feasted the King at the Guildhall, probably at mid–day, as immediately afterwards the royal party repaired to Myerscough, where another stag was killed. The next day James I. stayed at Hoghton, where Sir Richard had invited a great company to meet him. Before dinner, notwithstanding the great heat of the day, they went out hunting, and after dinner (about four p.m.) the King went to look at the alum–mines which his host had recently opened. After an hour thus spent, they returned to the forest, and had varied fortune until evening, when they returned to a late supper. The following day was spent at Hoghton; there was no hunting. The Bishop of Chester preached before the King, and after dinner there was a rushbearing and piping in the middle court. This form of Lancashire wakes has often been described. This was probably a simple rush–cart, with its accompanying morris–dancers, etc., got up to entertain the King. In the evening there was a mask, in which many “noblemen, knights, gentlemen, and courtiers” took part; there were also some speeches and dancing, including “The Huckler,” “Tom Bedlo and the Cowp Justice of Peace.”[131] On this day a petition of the Lancashire people was presented to the King. In this it was represented that “they were debarred from lawful recreations upon Sunday after evening prayers, and upon holy days, and praying that the restriction imposed in the late reign might be withdrawn.”

In May, 1618, King James issued a proclamation, in which he refers to his progress through Lancashire, where he had “found it necessary to rebuke some Puritans and precise people.” These people, he thought, were Jewishly inclined, because they affected to call Sunday the Sabbath day. And the proclamation ends by declaring that his pleasure was that in Lancashire, after the end of Divine service, the people were not to be let or hindered or discouraged from any lawful recreation, such as dancing, either men or women, archery, leaping, vaulting, May games, Whitsun ales, morris–dancers, maypoles, or other sports. Those recusants and others who did not attend Divine service were, however, to be debarred from the sports. The latter clause was, no doubt, introduced to please the Bishops and the clergy, who were highly indignant at the proclamation itself. This order led to the issue in 1618 of “The Book of Sports.” Charles I. made a somewhat similar order as to the due observance of wakes and fêtes on the anniversary days of the dedication of churches. From Hoghton the King went to stay with the Earl of Derby at Lathom House, from thence proceeding to Bewsey Hall, the seat of Thomas Ireland, Esq.