Nor was this the result in any way of a mind sceptically inclined. His book shows that he accepted the opinions of his day, unless he had been led to inquire into them, and either re-receive them as facts or discard them. Led doubtless by his academic training, it is abundantly clear that he had inquired into the grounds of his belief in the Established Church, and into the additions that had been made to its faith in the course of illiterate ages by the Popish Church. He had read Plotina, who taught him that the so-called vicars of Christ and his vice-gerents on earth were often devils incarnate and standard-bearers of vice, and that the system which did now and again produce a St. Francis d’Assis—all reverence to his name—produced also the congeners of Loyola, and Loyola himself, whose followers, while assuming to themselves the holy name of Socii Jesu, made that name famous and infamous, and their tenets execrated throughout the civilised world. But he accepted with some doubting, having, as he thought, great authority for it and no means of investigation, the story of the Remora; and accepted without doubting the beliefs that the bone of a carp’s head, and none other, staunched blood, the value of the unicorn’s horn, and the like, and—notwithstanding his disbelief in astrology—that seed-time and springing were governed by the waxing and waning of the moon. He also believed that precious stones owed their origin to the influences of the heavenly bodies; and besides his credulous beliefs as to certain waters, narrated at the commencement, he in the next chapter gives the absurdly wonderful virtues of these stones, some, as he says, believed in by him, “though many things most false are added”.
How then came he to inquire into and write so strongly against witchcraft? Before the time of the eighth Henry, sorcerers were dealt with by the ecclesiastical law, which punished them as heretics. Moreover, their supposed offences against the person seem, chiefly at least, to have been taken notice of when they were supposed to interfere with high or state matters or persons, as in the cases of Joan of Arc or Dame Eleanor Cobham. But in Henry’s time, probably through the extension of continental ideas, aided, it may be, by a desire to restrain the ecclesiastical power, c. 8 of the thirty-third year of his reign was passed. By this it was enacted, that witches, etc., who destroyed their neighbours, and made pictures [images] of them for magical purposes, or for the same purposes made crowns, swords, and the like, or pulled down crosses, or declared where things lost or stolen were become, should suffer death and loss of lands and goods, as felons, and lose the privileges of clergy and sanctuary. Afterwards, by 1 Edw. I, c. 12, this and other offences first made felonies in Henry’s time were no longer to be accounted such. Thirdly, in the fifth year of Elizabeth, Parliament, by its twelfth chapter, enacted, that whereas many have practised sorceries to the destruction of people and their goods, those that cause death shall suffer as was declared by 33 Henry VIII, c. 8, except that their wives and heirs shall not have their rights affected by such attainder. But that when a person was only injured, or their goods or cattle destroyed, the offenders should for the first offence suffer a year’s imprisonment, and once a quarter be exposed in the pillory in a market town for six hours, and there confess their offences; and for the second offence suffer death as felons, with the exceptions before rehearsed. While any who seek treasure, or would bring about unlawful love, or hurt anyone in his body or goods, should for a first offence be imprisoned and suffer as before, and for a second be imprisoned for life and forfeit his goods and cattle. This, so far as humanity is concerned, is a distinct advance on Henry’s enactment, though an apparent going back from that of Edward. Perhaps, as before, it arose from a desire to remove the offences from the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical law, which would have burnt them, nor, as evidenced by its little results, does it seem to have been made through any mania or scare in the matter. This came on later, when, as we are told by Brian Darcie in 1582, at what time, under pie-crust promises of favour, he was endeavouring to get women to confess, and then be hanged,—“there is a man of great learning and knowledge come over lately into our Queenes Majestie, which hath advertised her what a companie and numbers of Witches be within Englande: whereupon I and other of her Justices have received Commission for the apprehending of as many as are within these limites.” Alas, this man of great learning and knowledge seems to have been none other than that otherwise light of the English Church, the great, good, and pious Bishop Jewel, who, having returned from a forced residence abroad, was speedily promoted by her Majesty, and in a sermon preached before her, in 1572, brought in the subject as follows:—
“Heere perhaps some man will replie, that witches, and conjurers often times chase away one Divell by the meane of another. Possible it is so; but that is wrought, not by power, but by Collusion of the Divels. For one Divell, the better to attaine his purpose, will give place, and make as though he stood in awe of another Divell. And by the way to touch but a word or two of this matter for that the horrible using of your poore subjects inforceth thereunto. It may please your Grace to understand, that this kind of people, I meenes witches and sorcerers, within these few last yeeres, are marvellously increased within this your Grace’s realme. These eies have seene most evident and manifest marks of their wickednesse. Your Grace’s subjects pine away even unto the death, their collour fadeth, their flesh rotteth, their speech is benummed, their senses are bereft.”
“Wherefore, your poore subjects most humble petition unto your Highnesse, is, that the lawes touching such malefactours, may be put in due execution. For the shole of them is great, their doings horrible, their malice intollerable, the examples most miserable. And I pray God, they never practise further, then upon the subject. But this only by the way, these be the scholers of Beelzebub the chief captaine of the Divels.”
The plantings of the Queen in the commissions of her Justices thus instigated and encouraged, produced an abundant crop. According to the Dedications of Scot, Sir Roger Manwood, Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer, had had “in these causes such experience”, [A ii. v]., while Sir Thomas Scot, as Justice of the Peace, had also had “manie poore old women convented before him for ... witchcraft”, [A. vi]. Various booklets also, presently to be spoken of more at large, excited still more the imaginations of a credulous people, and it had been supposed, before Scot wrote, as will be seen on [p. 473], and in my note on that page, that the Queen’s person had been aimed at in that way.
It thus appears that though Scot may have been brought up in a traditional but little-regarded belief in witchcraft, he, when he was at least thirty-four, was not only unprepared, but startled, to witness and take part in this new departure from justice and mercy. Witchcraft, chiefly looked on as useful in discovering things lost, or in bringing a wished-for sweetheart to return the love of the seeker, or in curing ailments simple or grievous, became feared, reviled, and sought out: sought out by Commission of the Queen, sought out by the people as a great and fearful evil rapidly overspreading the land, and able and willing, like the Plague and Black Death, to count its victims by thousands, and from the cottage to the throne itself. He, a man both intelligent and compassionate, sees poor, old, decrepit creatures eking out a miserable livelihood by begging an occasional dole from their better off neighbours; ill-tempered by age and condition, and therefore abusive when refused such dole, or on slighter causes, sometimes perhaps through old knowledge or superstition, but probably more often for the sake of gain, pretending to be wise above what is known; he sees these accused of selling their souls for the sake of such a position in the world, he hears them accused sometimes of foul, more frequently of unlikely, crimes and acts, nay, such as an unprejudiced common sense must laugh at, while the evidence is nearly always so faulty that, were the accusation a different one, it would be at once turned inside out and thrown aside. Unfortunately, too, some of these old women being more or less mad, and others driven through fear on the one hand, or through promised favour on the other, confess themselves capable of doing these things, though any man of sense and observation could detect their state or motives. Luckily, too, he had had close to him, and in his wife’s family, the known and talked-of imposture of the Holy Maid of Kent; and in his own time and close to his own door, the case of the Pythonist of Westwell, at first carried out triumphantly, and then, on her own confession and her re-acted acts, branded as an impostor, like the Holy Maid. The Dutchman, too, at Maidstone, after being set forth as a worker of miracles and an exorcist, was found to be a rogue; and “manie other such miracles had beene latelie printed, whereof diverse had beene bewraied.” He had taken part also—apparently as one engaged for the defence—in that piece of folly called the trial of Margaret Simons, and knew the history of Ade Davie, and of her restoration to sanity without exorcism, hanging, or burning.
Is it not natural that his suspicions, and more than suspicions, should have been aroused, and that he should have been thus led to take up the whole subject seriously? One who had given himself up, as Wood says, to reading and thought as well as to healthy and useful exercise, must have sought for and obtained books on either side of the subject, and in especial the known book of Wier; and thoughtful reading of these, and meditation must have led him to extend his views, and gather them into a harmonious and consistent whole. Meanwhile, however, the bloodthirsty superstition daily increased, and there were published first, the mad book or books of Richard Gallis—spoken of in [pp. 132–3]—of the witches at Windsor, now, I believe, unfortunately lost, where, among other things, he narrates how, at a Sabbath meeting, he had a hand-to-hand encounter with the devil, and wounded him so sore that he stank of brimstone; and in 1582, there took place the wholesale condemnation of the poor old women of St. Osees, thirteen I believe of whom were hanged. There had been no such condemnation before in England. It is not unlikely that he himself witnessed their condemnation—see [pp. xxv–vi]. So unusual was it, that—as I cannot but believe on other evidence, as stated in my noting on Macbeth—a ballad was written on it, which became very commonly known, and was remembered as late as 1606. This same unusual breadth of punishment also created so much attention that Justice Brian Darcie thought it worth while to set forth in print, not the trial, but the depositions taken before him, and thus inform a too ignorant public that he and he alone was the primary cause of such a purification.
These facts, and especially this last, aroused, I believe, Scot’s compassion and indignation, and made both find vent in printed words. And besides these likelihoods, including that of date, there are two at first sight seemingly contradictory facts, which made themselves manifest to me when I first carefully read the book, and before I had formed any opinion on their causes, and which are on this view reconciled. These facts are, that while the plan which he has adopted, and his facts and conclusions, seem to have been deliberately sought out, thought over, and canvassed, there are evidences throughout of a feverous haste of composition, such feverous haste as the above spoken of emotions would excite in a man like Scot, who had witnessed so horrible and so bloody a perversion of justice. The proof of the first fact I leave to be observed by the intelligent reader; but while the second must also be observed by him, it is needful, to the full exposition of my argument, that I should collect in one view most at least of the details. This haste is evidenced in some of his corrected errata, but more in those that he did not correct. Thus we have, on [p. 174], a curious slip, by which Pharaoh becomes a Persian, and Nebuchadnezzar takes Pharaoh’s place as an Egyptian king, for other parts of the book prove conclusively that this was an unintentional lapsus, and one a second time overlooked when the book was re-read before the title-page and the preliminary leaves were set up. Similar are his errors as to Haias and Sedaias, for at one time he speaks of Rabbi Sedaias Haias, repeating it also at the last when he gives his “forren authors” consulted, and between these speaks of them as two persons, as they were. More especially would I call attention to his blunders as to Argerius Ferrerius. He quotes him—yet he is always Ferrarius—five times in his text, twice in his table of contents, and once in his “authors used”. So in his translation from him, the “s” of “verbis” being indistinct in some copies, he read the word as “verbi”, and thereby translated the sentence into such unmistakable nonsense that this alone should have shown him his error. So, also, we have the senseless, because careless, rendering of the sword in hand passage, [p. 257]; and with these may be classed his adoption of T. R.’s curious mistranslations from Wier’s Pseudomonarchia, or from another copy of the Empto. Salomonis, for a moment’s consideration would have shown him their absurdity, and led him to turn to Wier. In [p. 19] also, we find “infants” where, as stated in my note, all the editions of the Mal. Malef. in the British Museum have “infames”; and this, though a slip of memory, betokens, when taken with the rest, overhaste. These slips, in an ordinary writer, would lead to another conclusion, but not in this case, where we have evidence of both ordinary and recondite knowledge, of conclusions tried by actual experiment, of a quick and intelligent perception, and of what may be called, in a good sense, a ready and acute subtlety in refuting or retorting allegations or objections.
Our author’s indebtedness to Cornelius Agrippa and to Wier has, in a great measure, been anticipated in what has been said; but a few words may here be added. Casually coming across their books when he became a reader of out-of-the-way works, he did not become a follower of theirs, and then write a book, as the disciples of Pythagoras wrote books to expound and hand down the doctrines of their master. Wier had written a book against witchcraft, and a clear and comprehensive book. But while Scot certainly followed Wier in point of time, and as certainly was much indebted to him for the perfecting of his book, yet, as I have said, Scot seems to have taken up his belief against the reality of witchcraft from what he in his own experience had witnessed; and my view, that he was then led to read Wier and Cornelius Agrippa, and the writers on the other side, seems to me confirmed by what we find as to his indebtedness to Wier. The “Notings on Wier” show that, while he copied him in some other instances, he borrowed from him mainly a long list of illustrations, some of which even he may have drawn independently from the same sources as did Wier.
Bibliography.—We do not find an entry of Scot’s Hoppe-garden in the Stationers’ Registers, because the entries about 1574 are wanting. But why do we not find so large and important a book as the Witchcraft of 1584 so entered, the writer being of a family of no mean repute, and the head of his house, Sir Th. Scot, being in those days a man of some mark? The answer, after what has been said, is simple. He upheld and defended a heresy, the existence and diabolical powers and practices of witches being believed in and guarded against, by the Queen, the bishops, and the people. Hence the reply of the Stationers’ Company would most certainly have been—the same as in more trifling cases—“provided he shall get the bishop of London his alowance to yt”, words which, under the circumstances, would have been a refusal, and a refusal which, had any steps been taken against him after its publication, would have told against him. Hence he resolved to print it, taking all the blame and responsibility on his own shoulders, no stationer’s name being connected with it, and the name of the printer appearing only at the end of the book, without date or place of address—“Imprinted at London by | William Brome.” And here, by the way, it may be mentioned that though called in catalogues a quarto, its signatures are in eights. As before stated, both Thomas Ady and Anthony à Wood tell us that it “did for a time make great impressions on the Magistracy and Clergy”, and that it did so generally is shown by the appearance of Webster’s, Ady’s, and other books on the same side, and those of Gifford, Perkins, and others, on the other, including King James, who, in 1597, issued his Dæmonologie specially against it. Whether Elizabeth or the authorities under her took any notice of it is doubtful, for, as I have said, he was still an Esquire in 1587; and the last words of his will, “for greate is the trouble my poor wief hath had with me, and small is the comforte she hath receyved at my hands”, and his designation of himself as “gent.”, point rather to a voluntary surrender of his office, through weakness and ill-health, than to a dismissal.