It has been conjectured that these heaps of stones were placed upon graves, more especially of criminals and suicides, to keep the spirit in the earth, and prevent the ghost from walking. Hence the modern gravestone.
25th February, 1583.
Collas de la Rue is accused of using the arts of witchcraft, and of grievously vexing and tormenting divers subjects of Her Majesty.
Matthieu Cauchez deposed that his wife being in a pining languorous condition, having heard that Collas de la Rue was a wizard, and knowing that he frequently visited his house, he asked him if he could help his wife. Collas replied:—
“As to her she is an ‘in pace’ (sic), she will not live much longer.”
De la Rue came to the place where his wife lay ill, and caused the bed to be reversed, putting the bolster at the foot; she died three hours afterwards.
James Blanche affirmed that having failed in a promise he had made to De la Rue, the latter swore he should repent. His wife soon afterwards became swollen all over, in which state she remained for some considerable time. He finally went to De la Rue, and consulted him as to how to cure his wife, and he gave him a decoction of herbs to be used as a drink, by which his wife was cured.
Thomas Behot deposed that on returning from fishing, he refused to give some fish to the son of Collas De la Rue. The son said he was a “false villain,” and complained to his father, who on that said, “Tais-toy, il n’en peschera plus guères.” (“Be quiet, he will not catch many more.”) That same day he was taken ill, and became so swollen that he could not rest between his sheets—(en ses draps). After having been ill for a long time, his wife unsewed his mattress and found therein several sorts of grains, such as broom, “alisandre” “nocillons” or “nerillons de fèves,” (black beans?), the treadles of sheep, pieces of laurel, rags with feathers stuck into them,[150] and several other things. His wife threw it all into the fire, and such an awful smell arose from the flames that they were obliged to leave the room, and immediately his swelling disappeared. The same day he was taken with such violent pains that he thought his last hour was come. Whereupon his wife put the key of their front door in the fire, and, as soon as it began to get red hot, Collas de la Rue, who had not been invited, and who had not put foot inside their house for six years, arrived there before sunrise, and said that he would undertake to cure him, but that it would be a lengthy operation, that he would have to refer to a book that he had at home, by which he had cured several people, Matthieu Cauchez among others, and that also he (the witness) would be cured. So Collas made him some poultices of herbs, but they did not cure him. With great difficulty he dragged himself to St. Martin’s Church (au temple de St. Martin), where De la Rue said to him:—
“I am glad to see you here, and yet not entirely glad, for you are not yet cured.”
When the deponent replied that he soon hoped to be on the sea again, De la Rue replied: