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The most strange and admirable discouerie of the three Witches of Warboys

The most strange and admirable discouerie of the three Witches of Warboys

Friday, Jun 23, 2017 by Mark Gunter *

The most strange and admirable discouerie of the three Witches of Warboys arraigned, conuicted and executed at the last Assises at Huntington, for the bewitching of the fiue daughters of Robert Throckmorton Esquire, and diuers other persons, with sundrie Diuelish and grieuous torments:

And also for the betwitching to death of the Lady Crumwell, the like hath not bene heard of in this age.

London

Printed for Thomas Man and Iohn Winnington, and are to be solde in Pater noster Row, at the signe of the Talbot.

1593.

What follows below is a copy of the text of this 1593 tract, which was one of the books used by Anne Gunter in 1604 to fake her bewitching in order to accuse enemies of the family of witchcraft. Archaic spellings have not been modernized in the text you're reading here. I have added paragraph numbers to the main text for reference. My own commentary appears in boxes like this one. The words of the ones who had been accused of witchcraft appear in red.

To the Right worshipful Master Edward Fenner one of the Iustices of the court of her Maiesties bench.

In these times (Right worshipfull) wherein euery idle wit seekes to blaze abroade their vainnesse, there ought to be no small care for the restraining of triuiall Pamphlets, aswell to exercise the Readers in matter necessary, as to cut off the writing of thinges needles.  Among other your worships care, as well for the furthering of the truth of this arraignment, being Iudge at the tryall of the malefactors, as also the crossing of whatsoeuer pamphlets should haue beene preferd, respecting either the matter partly or confusedly: emboldens me to preferre the patronage hereof to your Worship, not doubt but as you haue beene carefull aswell for the tryall and iudgement of such hainous offenders, and withall taken extraordinarie paines in perfecting this worke, for the printing to others example, you will likewise vouchsafe to pardon our boldnes.

To the Reader.

At length, though long first, gentle Reader, this notable arrainment and examinations of Samwell, his wife, and daughter, for their sundry witchcrafts in Huntingtonshire are com to view.  It hath for speciall cause bene thus long deferd, aswell that nothing might escape vntoucht which they had done, as that euery thing might be throughly sifted least it should passe any way corruptly.  These cares hauing perfected the worke, it is now past the presse to your presence, wherein I presume ye shall find matter as admirable as euer this age afforded.

A True and perticular Obseruation of a notable piece of Witchcraft practised by Iohn Samuell the Father, Alice Samuell the Mother, & Agnes Samuell their Daughter, of VVarboise in the Countie of Huntington, vpon fiue Daughters of Robert Throckmorton of the same towne and Countie Esquire, and certaine other Maide-seruants to the number of twelue in the whole all of them being in one house: Nouember, 1589.

(1) Little Miss Jane Throckmorton, a 10-year-old, is very sick with palsies, sneezing fits, etc. and first accuses an old neighbor who visits the home of being a witch, which is discounted. Two physicians are consulted, who are unable to explain the child's illness, and they suggest that sorcery may be the cause. (2) A month later, two of Jane's older sisters are affected, and they blame the old neighbor, Alice Samuell, for bewitching them. (3) The following, month Jane's younger sister falls ill and does the same. (4, 5) Then Jane's eldest sister, Joan, age 15, becomes more violently ill than the others, and likewise accuses Ms. Samuell of witchcraft.

arresting a witch1. About the tenth of November which was in the yeare 1589.  Mistris Iane one of the daughters of the saide Master Throckmorton being neere the age of tenne yeares, fell uppon the sodaine into a strange kinde of sickenes and distemperature of body, the manner whereof was as followeth.  Sometimes shee woulde neese very lowd and thicke for the space of halfe an howre together; and presently as one in a great rance and sound lay quietly as long, soone after she woulde begin to swell and heaue up her bellie so as none was able to bende her, or keepe hir downe, sometime shee would shake one legge and no other part of her, as if the paulsie had bin in it, sometimes the other, presently she would shake one of hir armes and then the other, and soone after hir head, as if shee had binne in fected with the running paulsie: continuing in this case two of three dayes, amongst other neighbours in the towne there came into the house of master Throckmorton, the foresaid Alice Samuell to visite this sicke childe, who dwelled in the next house on the Northside of the said Master Throckmorton.  The child when the old woman came into the parlour was held in an other womans armes by the fire side, so she went into the chimney corner and sate downe hard by the childe, the Grandmother of the childe, and the Mother beeing also present, shee had not beene there long, but the child grue something worse than she was at her comming, and on the sodaine cried (saing) Grandmother looke where the old witch sitteth (pointing to the said mother Samuell) did you euer see (said the Child) one more like a witch than she is: Take off her blacke-thrumbed cappe, for I cannot abide to looke on her.  The mother of the child little then suspecting any such matter (as afterwards fell out) was very angry with her child and rebuked her for saying so, & thinking that it might proceede of some lightnes in the childs braine by reason of her great neesing and want of sleepe, tooke her and laid her downe upon a bed, and hanged curtaines against the windowes, thereby hoping to bring her into a sleepe, but much adoo they had to pacifie and quiet the child.  The old woman hearing this sate still, and gaue neuer a word, yet looked very ruefully, as afterwards was remembred by them that saw her.  The child still continuing her manner of sickenes, rather worse than better, within two daies after, her parents sent the childs urine to Cambridge to Doctor Barrow, a man well knowne to be excellent skilfull in Phisicke, who returned this answer: namely, that he did perceiue no kind of distemperature save onely that he thought she might be troubled with wormes, and therefore sent his medicine accordingly, but the child was no white the better; so within two daies after they sent againe to the same man, declaring unto him the manner of her fits more at large: hee saide that the urine which they then againe brought to him, shewed no such kind of disquietnes to be in her body: and to be failling sickenes (which the Parents did suspect to be in the child) he would warrant her cleare from that disease.  Then he sent other prescripts as he thought good to purge her body, which tooke no place nor prevayled any thing in the childe as he looked for.  Then the Parents sent to him the third time (as his desire was to understand howe his Phisicke wrought) declaring that it wrought nothing at all as hee looked for, neither that the child was any way amended.  Then Mister Doctor looking again in the urine, and perceiving the childs body to bee in good temper (as hee then saide for any thing that hee sawe) demaunded whether there was no sorcery or witchcraft suspected in the childe, answere was made no.  Then said he, all surely cannot be well, for it is not possible, that the childs body should be distempered by any natural cause as then was declared to him, and no signe thereof at all to appeare in the urine: not withstanding for their better assurance (if the messenger woule goe to any other skifull man in the towne to take further advise, hee saide hee woulde bee very well contented.  Whereupon the messenger went to Master Butler, who considering of the urine, and hearing the maner of the childs trouble said, that he thought it might be the wormes, which yet he did not perceiue to be by the urine and if it were the wormes, that then it was a very strange kind of griefe to bee caused by them in that sort, and appointed the same medicine and phisicke (for the remedie) which before Doctour Barrow had prescribed: which being knowne was not applyed to the child, because Master Doctor Barrow had said that if Master Throckmorton (to whome hee wished very well as he then said, by reason of auncient acquaintance with him) woulde follow his advice, he should not striue any more there with by Physicke, nor spend any more money about it: for he himselfe said, that he had some experience of the mallice of some witches, and he verily thought that there was some kind of sorcerie & witchcraft wrought towards his childe.

witch with her familiar2. After which answere from Master Doctour Barrow, Master Throckmorton resolued himselfe to rest uppon Gods pleasure, not striving any further by Phisicke to helpe his daughter; yet both himselfe and his wife were free from any such conceit of witchcraft which Master Doctour Barrow did suspect; untill within one ijst moneth after (the very day and houre almost observed) two more of his daughters elder than the other by two or three yeares, fell into the same like extremities as the other Sister before them was in, and cryed out upon Mother Samuell: saying, take her away, looke where shee standeth here before us in a blacke thrumbd Cap, (which kind of Cap indeed shee did usually weare, but shee was not then present) it is shee (saide they) that hath bewitched us, and shee will kill us if you doe not take her away.  This thing did something moue the Parents, and strike into their minds a suspition of witchcraft, yet deuising with themselves for what cause it shoulde be wrought upon them or their children, they could not image, for they were but newly come to the towne to inhabite, which was but at Michaelmas before, neither had they giuen any occasion (to their knowledge) either to her or any other, to practise any such mallice against them.

3. Within lesse than a Moneth after that, another Sister younger than any of the rest about the age of nine yeeres fell into the like case, and cried out of Mother Samuell as the other did.

4. Soone after Mistris Ioane the eldest Sister of them all, about the age of fifteene yeres, was in the same case & worse handled indeede than any of the other Sisters were, for shee hauing more strength than they, and striuing more with the Spirite than the rest, not being able to ouercome it, was the more greeuouslie tormented; for it forced her to neese, screetch & grone verie fearefullie, sometime it would heaue up her bellie, and bounce up her bodie with such violence, that had she not bin kept upon her bed, it could not but haue greatly brused her body, & many times sitting in a chaier hauing her fit, shee would with her often starting, and heauing, almost breake the chaier shee sate in: yet was there no striuing with them in this case, for the more they labored to helpe them & to keepe them downe, the more violently they were handled, being depriued of all use of their sences during their fits, for they could neyther see, heare, nor feele any body; only crying out of Mother Samuell, desiring to haue her taken away from them, who neue more came, for after shee perceiued her selfe to be suspected.

5. These kide of fits would hold them, sometimes longer, sometimes shorter, either an howre or two sometimes halfe the day, yea the whole day, and many times they had sixe or seauen fits in an howre, yet when it pleased God to deliver them of their fits, they neither knew what they had said, neither yet in what sort they had bin delt with all as hereafter shalle be declared in perticuler.

(6, 7) Joan Throckmorton prophesies by the evil spirit tormenting her, that others of the household would soon fall prey to witchcraft; this apparently comes to pass with servants of the household.

6. After that Mistris Ioane had binne thus handled a while, the Spirite as it should seeme would sound in her eares some thinge which shee would declare in her fit, and amongst the rest, it shewed unto her one time, that there should bee twelve of them which should be bewitched in that house, in one sorte or other, and named them all unto her, being all women kinde, and servantes in the house, her selfe and her Sisters being fiue of the number, all which proued afterwards very ture, for they had all their seuerall griefes, and most of them aflicted in the same sort and manner as these fiue Sisters were, Of whome and the manner of their faith, if it should bee written in perticular how they were delt withall, there would be no end of this booke.

7. And this may suffice to be knowen concerning the seruantes, that when they first fell into their fits, they all cried out of Mother Samuell, as the Children did, saying take her away Mistris, for Gods sake take her away and burne her, for shee will kill us all if you let her alone, hauing the same miseries and extremities that the children had, and when they were out of their fittes they knew no more than the children did, what either they had done or saide: and presently upon their departure from Mistris Throckmortons house they were all verie well, as at any time before, & so haue continued euer since without suspicion of any such kind of vexations, and those servuantes that came in their places for the most part of them, they were aflicted in the like sorte as the other for the space of two years together.

(8-12) On Valentine's Day Eve (February 13), the children's uncle Gibert Pickering comes to visit. He fetches Ms. Samuell from her home, along with her daughter Agnes and Ms. Cicely Burder, also suspected of witchcaft. He brings these women to the Throckmorton home and by exposing them to some of the children, is convinced of witchcraft regarding Alice Samuell and Cicely Burder. Mr. Throckmorton returns home along with a Parson, and stops the proceedings before Agnes can be fully implicated.

8. Uppon Fryday, being Saint Ualentines euen, the thirteenth of Februarie in the two & thirteth yeare of her Maiesties raigne, Gilbert Pickering of Thichmersh groue, in the countie of Northampton Esquier, being uncle to the said Childe, and hearing how strangely they were vexed and troubled went to VVarboyse (as well as to visite and see them, as also to comfort their Parentes: comming to the house where they were, founde them all at that present very well, as any children could bee and about one halfe howre after, the saide Maister Pickering was informed that one Mistris Andley and Maister VVhittell of Saint Tues, and others were gone to the house of Mother Samuell to perswade hir to come to see, and to visite the said Children, and because they tarried longe, it seemed to the said Maister Pickering that they could not bring hir, although that the said Mother Samuell, had often saide, shee would come to the saide children, whensoeuer it pleased their Parents to send for her, and shee would venter hir life in water up to the chin; and loose some parte of hir best bleud to doe them any good: but now as it seemed, her mide was cleane altered, the cause was as it was suspected, for that all the said children (as it is said before) in their fits cried out of her, saying that she had bewitched them, and that she also feared, the common practise of scratching would be used on her, which nothing lesse at that present was intended, for both the Parents and the said M. Pickering had take aduice of good Divines of the unlawfulnes thereof, wherefore the saide M. Pickering went to Mother Samuells house, aswell to see her, as also to perswade her that, if shee were any cause of the Childrens trouble, that it might bee amended, who comming to the saide house, found there the foresaid Master Whittle, Mistris Andley, and others perswading her to visite the said Children, but shee with lowd speackes utterly refused the same, whereuppon, the saide Master Pickering tolde Mother Samuell that he had authoritie to bring her and if shee would not goe with him willingly and of her owne accord, he would force her, and compell her whether she ewould or no, which he then did, togeather with her daughter Agnes Samuell, & one Cicely Burder, who were all suspected to bee witches, or at the least in the confederacie with Mother Samuell, and as they were going to the saide Master Throckmortons house, Master VVhettle Mistris Andley, and others going before Mother Samuell, Agnes Samuell, and the saide Cicely Burder in the middle part, and the saide M. Pickering behind them, the said Master Pickering perceiuing that olde Mother Samuell would haue willingly talked with her daughter Agnes, but the said Master Pickering followed so neere behind them, that they could not conferre, and when they came to the dore of Master Throckmortons house, Mother Samuell used curtesie to the said Master Pickering, offering him to goe into the house before hir, which he refused, & in the entry of that same house(for either then or not at all) she thought that she should have had had time to speake to her daughter: the said Mother Samuell did thrust hir head as neere as she could to her daughters head, & saide these wordes. I charge three doe not confesse any thing, which the saide Masiter Pickering, being behinde them perceiuing thrust his head as neere as he could betweene their heads whilest the words were spoken and hearing them, presentlye replyed to olde Mother Samuell, thou naughty woman, dost thou charge thy daughter not to confesse any thinge, nay saith she I said not so, but I charged her to hasten hir self home to get hir Father his dinner. In the meane time, whilest these words were in speaking M. VVhittle Mistris Andley, and others went into the house, and three of the Children were then standing in the hall by the fire perfecte well, but no sooner had Mother Samuell entered the hall, but at one moment, the said three Children fell downe upon the ground strangely tormented, so that if they had bin let lie still on the ground, they woulde have leaped & sprung like a quick Pickerell newly taken out of the water their bellies heauing up their head, & their heeles still touching the ground as though they had binne tumblers, and woulde have drawen their heads and their heeles together backwards, throwing out their armes, with great grones most strangely to bee heard, to the greate greefe of the beholders, but not longe after they were thus fallen to the grounde, the saide Master Whittle tooke up one of the said Children, which was Jane Throckmorton, & carried her into an inward chamber laying her upon a bed, and being a man of as great strength as most be this day in England and the child not aboue nine yeares old, yet he could not hold her downe on the bed, but she would heaue up her bellie farre bigger and in higher measure for her proportion, than any woman with child readie to be deliuered, her bellie being as hard as though there had binne for the present time a great loafe in the same, and in such manner it would rise and fall an hundred times in the space of an howre, her eies being closed as though shee had bin blind and her armes spred abroad, so stiffe and strong, that the strength of a man was not able to bring them to hir body: then the saide Master Pickering went into the Parlour where the saide childe was, and standing on the further side of the bed from the childe vewing the order of her, presently the said child streatched forth her right arme, to that side of the bed next to the saide Master Pickering, and there scratching the couering of the bed said these wordes very often, Oh, that I had her, Oh that I had her: whereupon, the saide Master Pickering was in great admiration what the meaning of the saide words should tend unto, and the rather for that the said Master Gilbert Pickering was of that opinion, that scratching was meerely unlawfull, yet the said Master Pickering put his owne hand to the childes hand whilest she was speaking the wordes, but the childe feeling his hand woulde not scratch it, but she forsooke his hand and scratched still on the bed, her face being turned to the contrary side from the said Master Pickering, her eies being closed, & Master Whittle lying in a manner with his whole body and waight over her, to hold downe her bellie, fearing that she would have burst her backe.

Witches!9. Not withstanding, the occasion being thus offered by the child, or rather by the Spirite in the childe to disclose some secret, wherby the Witches might be by some meanes or token made manifest and knowen, the saide Master Pickering went into the Hall and tooke Mother Samuell by the hand (who went as willingly as a Beare to the stake) and brought her to the further side of the bed from the childe, who lay scraping with her nailes on the bed couering, saying, Oh that I had her, then the said M. Pickering in verie soft speaches (so that the childe could not heare) said to Mother Samuell put your hande to the childes hande, but shee would not then the said Master Pickering for examples sake, put his hand to the childes hand, so did also Mistris Andley & others at the same instant, but the childe would scarce touch, much lesse scratch any of their handes, then the said Master Pickering without either malice to the woman, confidence, or opynion in scratching (onely to tast by this experiment whereto the childes wordes would tend) tooke Mother Samuels hande and thrust it to the childes hand, who no sooner felt the same but presently the childe scratched her, with such vehemencie that her nailes brake into Spylles with the force and earnest desire that she had to reuenge: whilest the childe was thus scratching, the saide Master Pickering did couer Mother Samuels hande with his owne hande, to trie what the child would doe in this extraordinarie passion, but the child would not scratch his hande, but felt to and fro on upon the bed for that which shee missed, and if by any meanes shee coulde come with her hande, or but with one of her fingers to touch Mother Samuells hand, shee woulde scratch that hande onely and none other: Yea, sometimes, whilest the saide Master Pickering with his hande did cover mother Samuels hand, the saide childe would put one of her fingers betweene the fingers of the saide Master Pickering, and scratch mother Samuels hande that lay nethermost with that one finger, all her other fingers lying on the hand of the said Master Pickering without mouing.

10. And in this passion, if at any time mother Samuels hand had beene hidden or withdrawn from the childe, shee woulde haue mourned and shewed apparant tokens of dislike, as though there had beene some great discurtesie offered, and this is to bee noted for a most certaine truth, for so it was by the saide Master Pickering at the Assizes in Huntington giuen in evidence, that the Child s eyes were closed, so that shee could not see any person, for so was the order of their Fittes; and though shee at that present coulde have seene, yet the childes heade and necke were so turned backeward into Master Whettels bosome who covered (as before is saide) both her head, face, and body, with his body, in such fore so close, that it was unpossible for the child to see the company which stood on the further side of the bed.

11. This beeing done, the saide Master Pickering departed out of that place into an other Parlour, where there was a woman holding one of the other children, which child as the said master Pickering passed by, scraped the womans Apron that held her, saying: Oh that I had her, Oh that I had her. Then the said master Pickering went into the hall, and did bring Cicely Burder to the saide childe, and for breuity sake, as the saide master Pickering did with mother Samuell to the first child, so did he to Cicely Burder, and as the first child did to mother Samuell, so this second child did to Cicely Burder in all respects.

12. There was also a third childe also at that present in the hall, which spake the same wordes, but the father of the children, and master Doctor Dorington Parson of the same parish, came then into the house, not allowing that which was done, by reason whereof the third was not put in proofe.

(13-59) The tale of Elizabeth Throckmorton ... On Valentine's Day, Elizabeth goes to live for much of the year with her uncle Gilbert Pickering. The following paragraphs amount to a diary of her strange behaviors during these periods, whereby she convinced folk that she was indeed bewitched, possessed of an evil spirit.

13. The same night after supper, the children being all very well, and out of their Fittes, master Doctor Dorington made motion to haue some prayers before the company departed, the company then kneeling downe, Doctor Dorington began to pray; but  no sooner had he uttered the first word, but euen at one instant of time all the children fell into their Fittes, with such terrible scrikes and strange neesings, so wonderfully tormented, as though they should have beene torne in pieces, which  caused Doctor Dorington to stay in the middest of his prayers, and saide these wordes or the like in effect, were we best to goe any further: but hee had no sooner made stay, and his breath stayed from praying, but the children were quiet (but still in their Fittes) then hee began to pray againe, and then the children or rather the wicked spirite in the children forced them as before, this was proued often in the time of prayer for when hee had made an ende of any one prayer the children ceased and were quiet: when he began to pray, they began to scrike: when he ended, they ended.

14. The next day, being Saint Valentines Day, the saide Master Pickering brought home to his house at Titchmersh Groue aforesaid, one of the said children called Elizabeth Throckmorton being in her fitte, who no sooner beeing on horsebacke, and out of Warboyse Towne, but shee was well, and so she continued till shee came into the said Master Pickering's house, but no sooner had she entred into the house, but that the fitte tooke her sodainely gasping beeing not able to speake, onely thus it commeth, shee pitched her selfe backewards, all the ioints of her backe bone being as it were drawen togeather, thrusting out her belly so strongly, that none could bend her backe againe, being very strong and heavy, shaking her limmes, and oftentimes her heade when it riseth so high, but specially her armes, like to those which struggle and plunge betwixt life and death, being both dumbe, deafe and blinde, her eyes closed up. Now this held her not a quarter of an hower, but with a gaspe shee came againe to her selfe, stroking her eyes as though she had beene but a sleepe.

15. Sometimes, beeing taken in her feete, shee is but deafe onely when shee can speake, or rather (as wee thinke) the spirite in her, but very vainely, and she can see also, but with a small glimmering when, if you looke upon her, ye would deeme her to haue no sight at all. Sometimes also shee can heare onely, and not every body, but someone whom shee liketh and chooseth out from the rest, sometimes shee seeth onely, and as plainely as any other, but neither heareth nor speaketh any thing, her teeth beeing set in her heade, sometimes both hearing and seeing very well, and yet not able to speake.

16. Above all thinges shee delighteth in play: shee will picke out someone body to play with her at Cardes, and but one onely, not hearing, seeing, or speaking to any other, but being awake, shee remembreth nothing that she did, heard, or spake, affirming that shee was not sicke but onely slept.

17. She continued well untill night, and before Supper in time of thankesgiuing, it vexed her very strangely, taking her at the very name of grace, and holding her no longer than grace was in saying: Shee sate very well at the Table, but no sooner had shee put up her knife, but it pitched her backewardes, then beeing taken from the table, shee was well untill thankesgiuing, all which time shee was most grieuously vexed and no longer. Afterwards shee was very quiet and well untill motion was made for prayers, all which time it seemed as though it woulde have rent her in pieces, with such,  scritching, and outcries, and vehement neesing, as that it terrified the whole company, but prayers beeing ended shee was quieter, but still in her fitte.

18. Then Master Pickering, and others that were acquainted with the manner of it, saide, that if any should reade the Bible, or any other Godly booke before her, it woulde rage as before so long as they readd, but because it was a thing very strange, and therefore hardly beleeued, one did take a Bible and readd the first Chapter of Saint John the first verse: At the hearing whereof shee was as one besides her minde, when he that readd held his peace shee was quiet: when he readd, againe it tormented her: when hee ceased, it ceased: this diuers did proue many times.

19. Nay at the motion of any good worde, as if any that stoode by chaunced to name God, or prayed God to blesse her, or named any word that teuded to God or Godlines, it raged all one as if any had read or prayed by her, and thus she was carried to bed still continuing in her Fitte.

20. In the morning, being a Sabbaoth day, shee came downe into the Hall towards prayer time, and being asked whether she would tarry the time of prayers or not, shee answered that shee would doe as they woulde haue her.  Then was shee asked whether shee could reade, shee said that shee could once, but shee had almost forgotten now: Then beeing asked further whether shee had prayed that day, shee made answere it would not suffer her: then whether shee used to pray at home, shee answered that it would not giue her so much time.

21. Then one saide to her, sith it will not suffer you to pray, not any other (seeming to haue eares), pray to your selfe secretly in your hart and spirite, and beginning to tell her that God understoode the inward sighs and grones of the hart, as well as the lowdest cries of the mouth; Shee sodainely fell into her Fitte beeing more strongly and strangely tormented than euer shee was before, and being carried away, her fits continued and increased  all prayes time albeit shee was out of the hearing, which such vehement cries, scritching and continuall neesing, that many times prayers were constrayned to be ceased for the time, so much it amazed the whole company: prayers beeing ended, shee came her selfe with a gaspe, wiping her eyes being presently as well as any body, as though it had never beene shee.

22. Shee came down to dinner, and during the time of grace, it held her againe (which as is usuall) yet will it suffer better another to say grace than her selfe, but no body well: At dinner time it plaide with her, so sometimes shee hath merry fits, putting her hand besides her meate and her meate besides her mouth, mocking her, and making her misse her mouth, whereat shee woulde sometimes smile, and sometimes laugh exceedingly, and amongst many other things this is worthy to bee noted, that beeing in her fit shee looked far more sweetely and chearefully than when shee is awake: and although beeing tormented most pittifully, that it would have grieued any to see it, yet beeing once awaked and out of her fit shee is as well as any body. At length Master Gibert Pickering called to minde and experiment which was made at Waboyse, which was, that if one tooke any of those children in their Fits, and carried them into the Churcharde which is adjoyning to the house, they presently awaked, but bring them in again they were as before, carry them forth, and they came to themselues: goe into the house and immediately their Fit tooke them, and this was as often found to be true as proued. Hereupon we proued the like with this childe, and carried her out of the house, and shee presently recouered, but within the house it tooke her againe.

23. But the certainety of this failed us soone (as Sathan is most uncertaine) yet for three daies space, if shee were carried abroad in her Fit, it would leaue her, and not take her againe untill she was brought into the house.

24. Hereof we reioyced greatly with thankesgiuing to God for the childes release in some sort. Hereupon arose a question amongst the diuers that were present at that time what they thought thereof, same said one thing some another, in the ende it was thought that the Spirit had it not in commission to molest her abroad, because he is but a Vassaile to the wicked purpose of her that detaineth him.  

25. As the Angell of God said unto Lot, I can doe nothing till this be come thither, much lesse may the Angels of Sathan goe beyond their commission. But when this imagination was concluded uppon, and once uttered foorth, the said experiment presently failed; For now contrarily when she was carried abroad, you would have thought the childe had beene in daunger of rending and utter spoyling, which did greatly feare and amaze the best that did see it.  But it would be too long to shew all the tricks and collusions of Sathan in wresting and over-ruling all the partes and members of this childe, yet some pranckes of his new-fangled  nature shall be reported, who is the prince of this world, and a ring-leader of newe fashions.

26. The obseruations of certaine daies follow, from the sixteenth of February to the 26, of that moneth, she was taken most commonly fiue or sixe times a day, sometimes ten times, sometimes twice, somtimes once, but not untill night. On the seventeenth of February she could not refraine from gasping and gaping, and being demaunded the cause, she answered, that if forced hir thereunto. She was then perswaded to strive against it, and to shut her mouth, or so to stop it, but still she could not refraine, untill the end, by much strife and contention she overcame it, yet not before it was said in her hearing, that the spirite was thought to be a spirite of the aire, entring by a breath and departing by a breath, because it was an usuall signe of hir present awaking out of her fitte and recouery, when she stretched hir armes, often gasping, and long, with a little rubbing of her eies, and thus this continuall gasping ceased with her, but only at suchtimes, as when she awaked out of hir fit.

27. On the 26th of February shee read, and song Psalmes, beeing well all day untill the euening, when she being in her fit shee cried out upon the aforesaid mother Samuell, fearing and crying, that she would put a mouse into hir mouth, sometimes a cat, a frog, and sometimes a Toad, clapping hir hands before hir mouth. Sodainly in this feare, she start out of ones armes that helde hir, and ran away out of the doores into another roome, where sodainly hir legs failed hir, an was catched up by one that followed hir, still crying away with your mouse mother Samuel, I wil none of your mouse after which time she imagined she had a mouse in her belly.

28. The 27th of Februarie shee was partly well, yet in her fit al the day long, being broad awake, yet nodding at euery second word, as if she had bene drowsie many times with meat in her mouth, or whatsoever she did, she gave a nod with the head, and that very low euery minute. This drowsie fit as sleeping and yet awake, continued neere two daies.

29. The 28th whereas before it bended her backwards, now it bended her forwards, coueting to touch the ground, as if shee would have stood upon her head, turning her hands cleane backwards: and if any mooued her contrary to her bending, all that present she would cry out, beeing in danger of breaking her lims, neither were any able to bend her straight.

30. The first day of March at dinner time, she fel into such sore neesing about fortie times together, & faster then one could wel count them, in so much that bloud issued out of her nose and mouth, but al night in bed, shee fell into the most sorrowfull fit of all, weeping with sobs and sighs most pitifully to heare with a strong imagination, crying and could not be appeased (for her senses were all benummed) saying that now the Witches would kill her Father, destroy both her and al her sisters, this continued aboue two houres after in a sleep she fell into a sore bleeding, at the least a pint at both the nosetrils and the mouth.

31. In the morning being awaked she remembered no such thing , not that she bled at all. The second of March she had all merry fits, ful of exceeding laughter (as they were al often times in their fits) and that so hartely and excessiuely, as that if they had bene awaked they would have bene ashamed thereof, being also full of trifling toyes, and some merry iests of her owne deuising, whereat she would force both the standersby, and her selfe to laugh greatly.  In this fit she did choose one of her uncles to goe to cards with her, as desirous therefore to see the end of it, they plaied together: soone after there was a book brought and laid before her, whereat presently she flung herselfe backwards, which being taken away, she presently recouered and plaied againe: this was often prooued and found true. And thus playing at cards, her eies were almost clean shut, but the sight of her eies were cleane couered, she saw the cards and nothing els, she knew her uncle and no man els, she hard and answered him, and none other, she perceived him when he plaied foule, or did steal from her, her counters or cards, but any other might take them out of her hands, she not seeing or feeling.  Sometimes she would choose another, whom she did see, and heare, sometimes a little child, but euer one and no more in any one fit. The fift day of March she fell into a mourning fit, and longed to goe home to her fathers: on the first day one of her fathers men came ouer to Tichmersh groue, whome she had often called for in her fit to carry her to Warboyse to her Fathers, saying, that if she were but halfe way, she knew that she shuld be well, desirous therefore to proove it, he carried her ouer hors back towards Warboyse, & being scarce gone a bow that, at a pond side she awaked, marveiling where she was, not knowing any thing, but no sooner the horse head was turned backe, but she fell into her fit againe.  This was often prooued at that time to bee true, now this also fell out infallible: for three daies after, and no longer, so often as she was carried to the pond (as many straungers desired to see her well and out of her fit) shee awaked, and was very well, but returning her face onely she fell againe.

32. The eight day of March she caught a new kind of going antique wife, she could goe very well two steppes, but the third shee halted downe-right, giuing a beck with her head as low as her knees, and as shee was sitting by the fire, she sodainly start up, saying, that shee would goe to Warboyse, but shee was staied at the portall doore, where going out with a nod, hit her forhead against the latch, which raised a knob the bignesse of a Walnut, it being carried afterwards to the pond, where awaking shee asked how her face came so hurt. There shee was left all day well, playing in the company of other children at bowles and other sport (for the more foolish sport shee useth, the more the spirite spareth her: but so soone as any motion was made of comming into the house, it presently tooke her, so that she was neuer out of her fit within dores for twelve daies together eating and drinking in her fit, but neither, seeing, hearing, nor yet understanding, cleane without memory, yet speaking, or rather the spirite within her.  The 9. of March shee could not go but hop, for the one leg was drawne uppe and would not touch the ground by a foot, and then being carried to the pond, she awaked now, and her leg was restored. This failed not for other three daies, but stil she went but upon one leg in the house.

33. The tenth day after she had eaten some milke, she listned and hearkened (as often she would doe) demaunding whether no body heard the spirit in hir belly lapping the milke which she had eaten.

34. Then she began to dislike all bad things, and delighted in reading saying, that the spirite loued no goodnes: therefore she burned all the cards that she could come by, shee would read when you would haue though she could not haue seene the booke, but somtimes it quite closed hir eies, sometimes it tied hir tongue, sometimes it set her teeth, sometime it would fling away the booke, especially at any good word, if she could catch the booke, and be able to hold it still by striuing, she would clap it fast to hir face, until she could see, for sometimes in her reading, it would fling hir backwards, & swell hir belly in such sort and straunge wise, that strong men were not able to holde her downe, in so much that shee would complaine hir selfe, can no man hold me downe, yet the childe was not then ten yeares olde.

35. The eleuenth day one chanced to aske her, or rather the spirite in hir: love you the woord of God: whereas shee was sore troubled and vexed. But love you Witchcraft? it seemed content: or love you the Bible? Againe, it shaked hir, but love you Papistry: it was quiet. Love you praiers: it raged. Love you the Masse: it was stil. Love you the Gospell? againe it heaued up hir belly: so that what good thing soever you named, it miss-liked, but whatsoever concerning the Popes paltrie, it seemed, pleased, and pacified.

36. Then the twelfth day she was carried unto the pond, but shee halted still, for there is no trueth in or certaintye in the Authour of lies.

37. The 13, 14, and 15, dayes she passed away the time in a heauy fitte, on the 16. day in the afternoon, she start up suddainly and ran out of the place where she was, and awaked in the way, but at five of the clocke it tooke her againe, untill the next day three of the clocke; but at fiue it tooke her againe: and this also fayled the third day: yet sitting at supper, she awaked whereat one sayd, thanks be to God: at which very words, she fel backwards into her fit again.

38. It followeth to declare, as it hath bene further very trulie obseued in this childe Elizabeth Throckmorton, remaining at Tichemarsh grove, that euery moneth from March to Julie she hath had some vexation of body, which is termed by the name of fits, because of the diuers maners thereof, so that she was neuer cleare and perfectly freed as it may be thought since her first visitation, although in some of the moneths she had but only one fit. And now because it seemeth to giue a fresh one-set and a newe attempt upon her, we have noted in perticular wise how she hath been diversly handled.

39. For the manner of it, you have heard before to be very straunge. It is first perceived commonly to be in her belly, by the great swelling and heaving up thereof from thence, it ariseth up into her throte stopping the passage of her breath, so that shee is oftentimes forced to draw the same with great difficulty and streightues. Remaining there, it tieth her tong many times, and setteth her teeth together: It will further ascend up into her head, and shake the same as if she had the paulsie, benumming all her parts, and depriuing her of the use of her senses, sometimes it will be in her armes and hands after the same manner, sometimes in one place, many times in another, and sometimes in all places at once.

40. For the continuance of it it hath bin either short or longer, mild or more vehement (as it pleased God to permit) for it hath alwais from the beginning kept a very mutable and uncertaine course in dealing with them.

41. Now the 29 of July 1590, she had a fit from noone until night sleeping the most part of the time, upon the thirtie she had three severall fits in the afternoone going to bed in her fit, but all of them were very milde and without any such vehement plunges, and excessive neesing as in former times.

42. Upon the second of August presently after dinner she fel very sodainly (as many times before) into her ordinary maner of fits, not hauing so much liberty as to say it commeth, which words she commoly used to utter in a great hast imediately before the assault, which was very strong and troublesome at this time: yet towards the end, she fel into a sleepe, and so continued until supper times, when awaking she was very sicke, and complained that she was griped at her heart and belly, and indeed marveil, for it had sore vexed her; In this sickly fit shee remained the three next daies following, eating very litle, yet without any apparant signe of swelling or other troublesome fits until the 5. day when she had some few twiches, and some after awakened, yet not ceasing to complain of griefe & pain at her hart and belly. But the next day morning all paine ceased, and then shee fell to her meat cheerfully, and was verie well as at any time before. But Sathan, the malignant spirite (for it was without question that disquieted the childe) envied her long and good estate, for the same night, before she went to bed, she had two grievous fittes, which caused many teares to fall from her eies, as also from them that stood by, and so she was caried to bed. The next morning she was found to be in her fitte, and so continued the whole day, being in her fitte, and in her bed, lying as one in a drowsie sleepe, eating and drinking in her fitte, speaking very little, but sometimes saying she would goe to Warboyse, for there her sisters were well (as shee saide) and named some of them whereas when she is out of her fitte, she is loath to bee drawne anie place from Tichmarsh grove.

43. The next day was the 13. of August, she was taken by in her fit and made readie, but when shee should come to moove her selfe, the one of her legs was drawne close to her bodie, almoste a foote from the ground, so she sate in a chaire al the day receiuing her meate at due times when it was brought unto her, yet neuer mooued her countenance, appearing as one in a traunce; bereft of sense and motion, yea, and life (to looke upon) save that shee breathed: yet would she of her selfe (for she could neither heare, see, nor speake to any) lift up her handes in a litle token of thanksgiuing after meat receaued, (which is not to be omitted) because it was comfortable to be the beholders.

44. The 14. of August she was caried abroad into the open ayre to see if she could come to her selfe (as divers times in her former fits she had done) but there is now no change in her, she is the same without the dore as within, and now shee beginneth to complaine on that side whereof the leg is drawne up, if any doe but touch her thereon, shee will whimper and grone as if it were sore, yet there is no appearance of outward hurt, if you touch her on the other side, shee will laugh after a […] manner, and looke merily in the countenance, but there is not one worde with her all the day long, from this day untill the eight of September, for she was a whole moneth together in her drowsie fitte. Manie thinges happened woorthy the remembrance, as that sometimes shee would sow all the day long, and mourne if her worke were taken from her, sometimes she would minde yarne, or knit, but neuer cast up her eies or countenance, some daies againe shee would bee mirrie and lightsome, finding many things wherein she would take delight, as playing with her cosins (children in the house) at some light and childish sportes, wherein children doe pastimes themselues, and all in her fit, as if she were as perfect as any of them.

45. Sometimes againe shee would be so heavy and drooping, that she could not sit in her chair, but would cast her selfe on the ground, and so lie with a cushen or pillow under her head halfe the day togeather. Sometimes she would take a booke and read either chapter or praiers very well, but whensoever she misread a worde, or slipped in any thing, shee could not heare any that corrected her, thogh he had spoken neuer so lowd, yet if he had pointed to the place with his finger, or giuen some other signe, shee would have gone backe and read over the place againe, sometimes reading it true, sometimes not: Againe, when she came to this word Sathan, or the deuil, she should have much to doe, to passe it quickly, or to keepe the booke in her hands, for it would shake her armes, and straine her body very sore, insomuch that shee would oftentimes say, wilt though not suffer me to say my prayers: Wilt thou not suffer me to read: (answering) I will say them, I wil read, with often and vehement repetition, and would in no case forsake her booke, except by great strife and violence, it cast it foorth of her hands (as many times it did) yet  would not receive it againe, beeing brought unto her, and many times fetch it her selfe: and in the end after much contention and much striuings shee should read quietly: and thus shee was used for the most part euery night when she went to bed, but especially in time of her praiers.

46. Further, for the space of two or three daies, if Sathan had beene named, or the deuill unto her, it would have troubled her, and so often those wordes had beene named, so many twitches, which was very straunge to beholde: Also at the naming of Mother Samuell (which will not bee forgotten) it would shake her by the shoulders and armes, as if it would shauer her in peeces, giuing signes of great dislicke thereof, and threatning as if there were some mysterie in it.  And sometimes her verye name would cast her presentlie into her fitte, and beeing in the middest thereof, shee would say, could you not haue helde your tongue. I was well enough before you named her, with many such like speeches, and thus shee continued long in this drowsie manuer, speaking very little all the time but that shee woulde say sometimes that she should not be well untill shee came to VVarboyse, or a mile upon the way, and then shee should be well. One time she asked the question whether any body in the house had slept so long as shee had done, saying that it had beene a long night with her, for shee had then continued so five dayes, and if every body had slept as since had done meaning the seruants of the house) why then I woonder (quoth shee) howe all the worke coulde bee done.

47. Upon the last day of August, shee has a very sodaine and sore fitte presently after dinner, door shee cryed out very griuously to beare, that mother Samuell stoode before her in a white sheete with a blacke Childe sitting uppon her shoulders, saying: looke where shee is, looke where shee is, away with your Childe mother Samuell I will none of your Childe, trembling every ioint, and sweating marvellously, calling upon her Uncle master Pickering and others to save her from mother Samuels Childe, and wich such lamentable speeches because no body would helpe her, that it did greatly grieue those that were present. After this fitte ended, her teeth were set in her heade, by which meanes her speech also was taken from her it may bee, because shee disclosed more than mother Samuell would vouchsafe to have knowne, after a while shee greatly mourned inwardly and wept very sore, often putting her hand to her mouth, and shaked very hard. This closing of her mouth did greatly affright us all, because it could not bee that shee shoulde naturally bee preserued without the ordinary meanes of foode, yet the often experience we had received of Gods merciful providence and care towards the Childe, vanquished dispaire in us, yet could it not but greatly grieue even a mercilesse Chants hart (but that the Diuell hath no mercy) to see how the Childe wept and lamented, many times putting her hande to her mouth, and lifting up her heade, as giuing cirsting signes of an hungry desire for meate and drinke.

48. Towards night when shee should goe to bedde, it pleased God (whose helpe is always at hande, when hope was in greatest distress) that this meanes was found out, the Childe wanted a tooth, whereat by the helve of a quill, shee sucked up some milke, and the same meanes receiued her drinke. After this was done, shee greatly rejoyced in countenance and outwards signes for shee coulde not speake, but clapping her handes on her breast and belly (as it may be thought) for that shee had found out a way to deceiue the malice of her enemy: For the children in all their assaults, though they took the soyle for a time, yet whensoever it pleased God a little to ease them, though but in part yet woulde they greatly triumph in wordes if they coulde speake, as to say I defie thee thou wicked spirite , doe what thou canst, thou canst doe me no hurt, thou seest that God is stronger than thou, thou art as good to let mee alone, I am glad at my heart that thou canst not overcome me, with many such like speeches, though in the very uttering of them, the enemy seemed to check & to torment them for it,  y strayning their body, and stopuing the course of their speech, and if they could not speake, then would they reioyce in counternance, and outward signes, and this kind of triumphing after the extremity of the fitte be past, is true in them all, from the eldest to the youngest.

49. To returne to this Childe, who was carried to bedde in her Fitte, and in time of her prayers, as shee inwardly mourned than in her minde, was exceedingly tormented, yet woulde shee not cease untill shee had finished them, which rule for the most part she usually kept, for thought her torments increased never so much, yet would shee not long surcesse her prayers, but after some release and quietnes giuen to her of her enemy, shee woulde goe forward untill she had ended them which was (no doubt) a good motion of the spirite and grace of God in the Childe.

50. The next morning which was the first of September shee was taken up in the same manner, that shee lay downe, her teeth still remaining fast set togeather, yet not so: but that shee might receiue milke up a quill as before.  At dinner time shee had a little strugling with her Fitt in the end whereof her teeth were lapped one over the other, whereas before they were set but one against the other. 

51. This was againe a further degree of Sathans malitious enmity for now both he closed her teeth and her mouth so fast togeather that there is no use and helpe left for the quill, this fyrightful and mercilesse [...] of Sathan with this Childe had much more troubled us than it did, but that we were verily perswaded that the mallice of the Diuell, and of his wicked Instrumentes whoseuer were limited and his mischieuous purpose towardes the childe, so [...]rre forth restrained, as that although he might endanger her health (which many times he did) yet should he neuer actually endammage the same, and much lesse her life, hereof we haue had very comfortable experiences.  For oftentimes (as you may reade before) shee hath beene so pitteously racked in her body, with such sodaine heavings and swellings in her belly, as if it would have broken her backe or rent her [...] in sunder, such extreame neesing, and that so thicke and often together after a screeching manner, filling all the house with her noyse as that boude hath gushed out of her nose, and some part at her mouth.  Yet for all this when the Fit was ouerpassed, and shee come againe to her selfe, shee hath beene as one of us, cheerfull in countenance, for if you had asked how shee had done, she woulde haue smile uppon you: if where shee had beene her common answere was in a sleep or dreame..  If a strong man in his perfect health had strugled in such a storme, and avid such a brunt but one hower, as shee did halfe a day togeather or longer, it had beene no woonder, if hee had beene sicke a moneth after: No not if death it selfe had followed presently upon it so very strange things suffered this childe.  But now shee is left destitute of all outward meanes to relieue the body and to preserue lif; because her mouth is closed up.  It was hereupon therefore thought good y oiners to make some tryals and experiments (as they had oftentimes done) before in such like cases, and chiefly because the childe had many times said that shee should not bee well untill shee came to Warboyse on a mile upon the way.  Shee therefore accompanied with Mistris Pickering her Aunt, was taken up and carried to horsebacke, whereat shee presently ioyed much (as if shee had perceined what had beene done, for making signes with her hands she pointed to haue the horse goe on forward.

52. Now when shee had gone almost a mile onwarde, thought not the direct way to Warboyse, yet the same way shee came from thence to Tichmarsh grove as it feel out (for it was unknown to any in the company at that present) shee begane to cheere up her selfe very much, and her teeth were forthwith untied: so that shee saide, I am not yet gone a mile, I shall straight way, and then I shall bee well.  Presently after this, when shee had gone a good mile (as it may be thought) shee rubben her eyes and came to her selfe and was very well as shee saide, but [...] exceedingly both show shee came thither, and wherefore at the, company also, and the strangeness of teh place.  Afterwards alighting from the horse, her legge was restored to her, where of shee had no use of three weekes before, and desired her Aunt to pray to God to blesse her.  Thus shee walked on forwards in very good and perfect estate, her.  Thus shee walked on forwards in very good and perfect estate, there was meate brought for her, whereof shee eate some part and dranke also with good alacrity and cheerefulnes.  Shee tooke a prayer booke and readd of it a good space, but when shee came at this word Sathan it troubled her fore by shaking and wringing of her shoulders.  And to see the mallice of the Diuell, there was no sooner mention made of her going home, but shee was straight way snatched, and shaken in her shoulders, armes, and body, as it would have shuffled her together, a little after shee arose, and in the very turning of her face homewardse, her eyes were shut, her legs were taken from her, her teeth fast set in her heade, her belly began to heave and swell in maner as usually before when her Fit set upon her.  Now so long as shee is walking forwards from the groue as it were to Warboyse, so that you speake not of going backe againe (for the motion onely will cause her to start) shee is very well and merry withouth any signe of dislike so long as either you are going on or standing still.  But so some as euer you shall turne her about to go homewards shee presently sinketh downe in your armes as one fallen into a sodaine swounde, strugling betwixt life and death, and so continueth stiuing a little space untill shee bee cleane ouercome, if you in the meane time turne not her face againe, which if you doe, as one awaking from sleepe shee is returned to her former estate.  This was prooved many times at that present both on foote and on horsebacke in the fight of many, but in the ende (there was no ram by) with great griefe wee brought her backe againe the same way wee carried her foorth: A deade childe to looke uppon for any sense or motion, but in countenance very sweete and amiable, for in all these extremities her complexion (which naturally is faynte) was no whit altred.  At night, it pleased God in despight of mischiefe and mallice, that shee receiued milke againe by a quill in the same manner as before, yet not without some straining and straightnes, because the place was closer shut than at the first: So that the childe euen then remained as a suckling and sucking child, for shee eateth no meat within the house, which is substantiall and solide.  But such as passeth through a quill: and if any meat bee brought unto her, shee will make signes to goe abroad, pointing towards that place where shee is wont to awake.  The next day, therefore, after dinner, she was carried foorth againe, where when shee came at the very selfe same place (as one would thinke within the length of a Pole) shee awakened, as one comming out of a long sleepe, for she would rub her eies a litle before, and gaspe once or twice stretching forth her armes, and these were common fore-running signes when she came to her naturall estate, there she did eat her meat very hartely with a good appetite, to the great ioy of her self, and of those that were present, but when she was satisfied, and about to giue thanks, then Sathan appeared in his likenes, for he laboured to prohibite and hinder that good exercise, by snatching the word as it were out of her mouth, and cutting them in the halfe, by wringing also and twisting the parts and members of the child, in such sort, that shee could not bring out one good woord, & the better word, the greater was her troble to utter it.

53. After this done, it was thought good by some, that a little sticke should be put into her mouth to keepe her teeth open, whensoever she was assiled againe, which was tried: so that when she was turned about, (for it would not suffer her so much as to sit quietly with hir face homewards, she held the stick fast in her mouth, which kept her teeth open, but she hir selfe was as one in a dead sleepe, giuning small signes of any strength, or life, and so remained untill she was turned about againe, which was not presently doone, at that time, because wee were willing to see the issue of it.  After a little space shee stroue with her hands to plucke the sticke out of her mouth, mourning inwardly in her mime with an heauie countenance, as if it had beene much griefe and trouble unto her, but shee held it so fast with her teeth, that it could not (as it may be thought) without great force haue bene pulled out, which appeared by the great dints of her teeth, made in the sticke when she was recouered.

54. This wee durst not adventure to doo the second time, fearing other inconveniences, for the said, when she was come to her self, that her mouth was very colde, for that the stick (as we thought) kept it open.  Howe did we tell her of a quill, by which she bled to receiue her meate at home, for shee asked whether she did eat meate any where else but in that place onely: but it seemed very strange unto her to heare of a quill, and shee knewe of no such thing, neither could we bring her to belaeue that she coulde sucke in a quill, for she asked many questions about it, how & which way she should doo it.

55. Now in the middest of this great heape, and worlde of wonders (as we say) appearing in this childe, one thing father by the way is thought good to be remembred, which is a point wherein many men that haue seene it, hardly beleeue their owne eyes.  It is a great questions amongst us, and is not yet fully determined, whether the Childe in the present time of her agonie, dooth sensibly feele and partake, eyther in anguish of minde, or griefe of body, those pangs and torments which to outwarde iudgement shee dooth appear to doo: it is thought shee dooth not, and some reasons shall be shewed that may draw us to beleeve it.

56. First, the testimony of the Childe her selfe (whe she is recouered) might be sufficient to perswade hte matter, if there were nothing els, for why should not she rather by shewing her griefe cause us to mone and pitie her (as all dooth that see her) if shee felt any cause why? The smyling and cheerefull countenance which shee hath always used, to those that aske her how she dooth presently uppon her fit ended, may something also strenthen this point.  The earnest desire she hath always had in time of her greatest extremities, to finish her prayers, or any such goo dexercise, although her torments (as they appeared to bee) were the more encreased thereby, as usually they were.  Her exceeding harty and immodest laughter in some of her fits, and such in deede as the Childes modestie woulde haue blushed at, and coulde not haue permitted, if she had beene well.  To these may be added, that the not feeling of her blow and hurt, nor knowing any thing of it, untill she was recouered, which she reciued in her fore-heade by the latch of a doore, as you may read before, with many such like arguments which might be alleaged.  And not to leaue out that which is of most force of all: her open contempt at all times, & in all places, both in speech & gesture, immediately before her fit tooke her: her boldnesse & good courage at all times to aduenture upon it, though she knew assuredly it would assault her: as namely, in the beginning of her visitation, at the naming only of God, or Jesus, or any good word, which if you had seene, you could not haue sufficiently admired: also, at the giuing of thankes after or before meat received at the entring upon any good exercise, as reading or praying, she neuer once useth to giue any signe of feare or discouragement, in any respect.  And at the naming of the devill, Mother Samuell, or any such black word, that keepeth the collour, as Sathan or Cicely (which is another womans name, that is suspected to be confederate in this wicked practise) she neuer feared nor would sticke at them, but alwayes shewed her selfe ready (though she very well knew that she should haue her fit for it) to cast her selfe upon the present danger.  And now heere in this place which is the open fields, she is willing and forward at euery motion, to turne her selfe about, and to set her face homewards againe.  And surely it may bee thought, there are very few (though hired with great gifts) if they had but once seene the childe in that pttifull plight and wofull case, wherein she hath beene a hundred times, that would voluntarily cast themselves into so great an extremitie and hazard of life, yca, though they ahd received infficient securitie and assured warrantie both of life and health afterwards, and withall for the present time also to be without naturall sense & feeling of griefe, and vexation of body or minde, so full of dread and terror was this fearefull spectacle, to the Standers by many times : and yet hath this little childe (such is the prehemience of Gods Spirit ouer all spirites of wickednesse) seene many of her sisters and some others, diuers times in the like case, or worse (if it might be) handled and tormented.

57. Yet it cannot bee denyed, but shee hath beene many times very sad in countenaunce, and shedde some fewe teares a little before her fit hath come uppon her: yet without any complayning at all, and of late times also: so that it may bee rather imputed (as it hath beene though) to some other causes, as in part to the conceit and imagination of her cruell dealing, when shee is in her fits, as it hath beene reported in her hearing.  Also, for that shee is deprived (for the tyme) of the company and fellowshippe of her cozens (other children in the house, whome shee deerly loueth) to that great sorrow and anguish of minde, which the sight of her lamentable case enforceth upon others: or if there bee some other secret cause unknowne unto us, for the Childe her selfe neuer complayneth. And beeing demaunded the case of her teares, she wyll auswere, sometimes that her head aketh, or that she hath some payn in one part of her body or other: But it would be too large a thing to recite one of an hundreth almost, of those memorable accidents which haue befallen to this childe, since the time that it first pleased God to permit her to be visited in this order.

58. To omit therefore what might be further said, she was carried out of the fieldes back again into the groue, being more like the Image and Shaddowe of a childe, then so in deede, continuing in the same estate and order at home as abroade, not eating any thing but such melthing meats as woulde passe through a quill, onely somtimes she would take some buttered meats, very small minced, & rub it against the outside of her teeth, & so suck in the iuyce and moysture of it.  From this day, which was the 3. of September, untill Tuesday, which was the 8. of the same moneth, was she caryed abroad into the field euery day to eat her meat, where she fayled not to awake at teh very selfe same place, & not before: And to perswade you that she would come to her selfe in no other place but in that onely, she hath been caryed a more direct way to Warbois, two or three miles upon the way, but to small purpose, for she continued in the same estate.  Upon this tuesday was shee carried from Tichemarsh grove, to Warbois to her fathers house, where by the way in the fields, at a dhege corner, which was the ordinary place, she made the common signes, & presently awaked continuing all the way in very healthfull sort and merry, onely her greatest care and greife was, that shee was departed from Tichemarshe grove.

59. Now that you have heard the particuler manner of the fits of this childe, Mistresse Elizabeth, you may imagine & aime at the manner of handling of the rest of her sisters, during this time, remayning in other places, who were no lesse strangly dealt withal than she was, of whome if it should be particulerly be observed, as is done in her, just as strange wonders (if any thing hetherto seeme strang) befell every one of them severally, as are these, which you have already heard. And by some of them were shewed matters of farre greater admiration but this may suffice, least in entrnig into the rest, no end could be found, so infinite is the matter.

(60-63) The Lady Cromwell calls at the Throckmorton home; she calls for Alice Samuell and is in the end thought to have been cursed by her.

60. It pleased the providence of God, that not long after Maister Gilbert Pickering had carryed away this child to his house, about a moneth or such a thing, the Lady Cromwell, wife of Sir Henry Cromwell, Knight, (who then lay in Ramsey, a towne two myles distant from Warboyse) came to Maister Throckmortons house, together with her daughter in law, Mistresse Cromwell, to visite these children & to comfort their parents, with who she was well acquainted: she had not long staid in the house, but the children which were there, fell all into their fits, & were so grieuously tormented for the time, y it pittied that good Ladies hart to see them, in so much, that she could not abstayn from teares, wherupon, she caused the olde woman, mother Samuell to be sent for, who durst  not deny to come, because her husband was tennant to Sir Henry Cromwell, who after she was come, y the children grew to be worse than they were before, which caused the greater sorowe. Then the Lady Cromwell tooke Mother Samuell aside, and charged her deeply with this witchcraft, using also some hard speeches to her. But she strngly denyed them all, saying, that maister Trockmorton and his wife did her great wrong, so to blame her without cause. The Lady aunswered her, that neither Maister Throckmorton nor his wife accused her, but the children themselves did it in theyr fits did it, or rather the spirite by them.

61. One of them, Mistresse Ione by name, being then in her fitte, hearing the old woman thus clearing her selfe (for she heard not the Lady nor any other) said, that it was she that caused all this, and something there is saith she, that dooth now tell me so: asking if no body heard it but she, affyrming that it squealed very loude in her eares, & mervailed that no body could heare it, wishing the old woman to listen to it. But mother Samuell still continued her denyal. Then the Lady Cromwell would have taken her up into a chamber, to haue examined her more narrowly, (Maister Doctor Hall, a Doctor of divinity being present) but she by no means would goe with the, but rather fayned many excuses to go home. In the end, when the Lady perceiued, that by no good speeches, neither she, nor any other could preuaile with her, & that fain she would have bin gone, she suddainly pulled of her kercher, & taking a payre of sheeres, clipped of a locke of her haire, & gaue it privily to Mistresse Throckmorton, Mother of y children, together with her Hairlace, willing her to burne them. Mother Samuel perceiuing her self thus dealt withall, spake to the Lady thus. Madame why doe use me thus? I never did you any harme as yet.'  These words were afterwards remembred, & were not at that present time taken hold of by any. Towards night the Lady departing, left the children much what as she found them.

62. The same night, after the Lady Cromwell departed fro Warboyse, she suffered many things in her dream concerning mother Samuell, & she was very strangly tormented in her sleep, by a cat (as she imagined) which mother Samuel had sent unto her, which cat offered to pulcke of all the skin and flesh from her armes & body, but such was the strugling and striuing of the Lady that night in her bed, & mournfull noise, which shee made speaking to the cat, and to mother Samuel that she wakened her bedfellow, who was Mistresse Cromwell, before named, wife to the worshipfall Maister Oliuer Cromwel, sonne & heyre to syr Henry Cromwell, who that night was fro home. Mistresse Cromwell being awakened, and perceiuing y Lady thus disquieted, awakened her also, who greatly thanked her for it, declaring how she had bin troubled in her dreame, with mother Samuell and her cat, with many other circumstances, which she did very well remember, neither could she take any quiet rest or sleep all that night after, for feare therof. Not long after, the Lady fell very strangly sick, & so continued unto hey dying day, which was some yere & quarter after her being at Warboyse.  The manner of her fits was much like the childrens, saue onely that she had alwayes her perfect senses: for somtime her paine would be in one arme, sometime in the other: now in the one leg, by & by in the other, many times in her head: yea, somtimes it would take her but in one severall finger or toe, and alwayes shake the grieued part, as if it had beene the palsey. And that saying of mother Samuel (which she used to her at Warboise, which was, Madam, I never hurt you as yet) would never out of her mind. And thus leauing this good Lady in heaven with God, we will returne to these children.

63. About Christmas after, Anno 1590 (for there was nothing noted all y time, although there befel 100. wonders) maister Henry Pickering, uncle to these children, being then a Scholler of Cambridge, went to Maister Throckmortons house, & continued ther some 3. or 4. daies, was desirous to speak with mother Samuel, & taking a convenient time, he requested 2. other schollers of his acquaintance (then being in the town) to go with him, to who they granted, & presently went without the knowledg of any in Maister Throckmortons house. As they were going, she came out of her own house, & crossed y street before them: when they saw her, they determined rather to folow her whither she went, than stay her return, because her husband was a froward man, & wold not suffer her to talke with any, if he might know it. She went to a neighbours house for some Barme, & caried a little wooden tankard in her hand, & a little Barley in her lap, to exchange for the Barme: when she came to the house, to whither she purposed to go, the schollers followed her immediately, & heard her tel her errand to the wife of y house, who had not that for which she came. Being ready to depart, the Schollers desired to speake with her, but she seemed loth to stay, yet they entring into questions with her, stayd her a little.  But she was very loud in her answeres, & impatient, not suffering any to speak, but her selfe, one of them desired her to keep the womans vertue, & be more silent: she answered, that she was born in a mill, begot in a kill, she must have her will, she could speak no more softlier. The greatest part of her speech, was rayling words against Ma. Throckmorton & his children, saying, that he did misuse her, in suffering his children so to play the wantons in accusing of her, & bringing her name into question, often repeating, that the childrens fits was nothing but wantonnesse in them, & if they were her children, she woulde not suffer the so to escape without punishment, one after the other. The schollers enquired about her seruice of God, and profession of her faith. But al y they could get of her, was, that her God would deliver her, her God would defend her, and revenge her of her enemie, alway using the phrase of my God wil doo this & that for me: which being noted by one of them, he asked her if she had a God, alone, or if she did not serve the same God that others did'? She aunswered, yes that she did: yet much adoe they had to bring her from the phrase of my God, to say the God of heaven & earth. In the end she would needs be gone, saying, that her husband would beat her for her long tarrying. Then the uncle of those children, being somewhat more moved than the rest, at the parting saide, that if she were the woman that had wrought this wickednesse upon these children, the vengeance of God would surely wait upon her unto death, & howsoever she might deceive her selfe, & she woulde for a time, yet there was no way to preuent the iudgements of God, but by her confession & repentance: which if she did not in time, he hoped one day to see her burned at a stake, and he himselfe would bring fire & wood, & the children should blowe the coales. Her answere to him was this, (for they were then in the street hard by a pond) I had rather (sayd she) see you dowsed over head and eares in this pond, and so they parted.

64. Now to come to the point, the eldest of Maister Throckmortons daughters was then in her fit, sitting at home in a Parlor, her father and Grandmother, with some other of her sisters in their fits being present with her.  On the suddaine (said she) nowe is my uncle (naming him) and the two other (whom also she named) going to mother Samuell. We shall heare some newes by and by. Presently she saide, looke where mother Samuell goeth trotting in the streetes before them, with a woodden tankard in her hand, and her Apron is tucked up before her, I belaeve sayth she there is somewhat in it. She is gone into such a mans house that keepeth an Alehouse, the mans name she could not hit of, but described him by his read head. Hark, sayd she to her sisters, mother Samuell is very loude, and my uncle bids her speake softly, but she saith she cannot, repeating to her father and the rest, the same words, (viz. that she was borne in a mill, &c.) after the same manner that mother Samuell spake them to her uncle, and the other Schollers. To bee short, shee declared particulerly every worde that passed betweene mother Samuell and those Schollers at that time. And at the parting shee sayde, there Mother Samuell my Uncle dyd touch you I thynke, repeating againe the very same wordes that her Uncle had doene, wishing that that day were once come, for I mys elfe (saide she) would blow the coales.' But he had beene as good as if he had said nothing to her (said she) for she wished him over head & eares in the pond for it. Master Throckmorton standing by & hearing all this, after that the child had said, that now mother Samuel and the schollers were parted, enquired of his brother, the childs uncle, asking if any one knew whither he was gone. Answer was made, that he had not came home fro the Church since evening Prayer, (for it was on a Saturday) but where he was no body knew. It may be (said Maister Throckmorton) that he is with mother Samue, & went immediatly out of his own house, to see if he could perceiue wher they were. As he went he met them in the Church yard coming from mother Samuels. Where have you bin said he? They tolde him. I could have told you as much my selfe, saide he: & repeated to them the whole matter, as his daughter before had shewed. When they were come into y Parlor where she was, there was also another of her sisters in her fit sitting by. And this her other sister could heare her said uncle speake unto her, & no body els, and so by her mouth, (for they could for the most part heare one another in their fits) he enquired of her sister all those matters over againe, which she did in his owne hearing repeat. But sayd she, the winde was so great that I had much adoe to heare them, whereas indeede there was then no wind stirring. After this the spirit (or the thing, as the children called it) would many times appeare unto them in their fits in some kinde of shape or other, but most commonly in the likenes of a dun chicken, & would talke familiarly with them, saying that they came from mother Samuel, (whom they called their dame) and were sent by her to the chyldren to torment and vexe them in that sort. It would declare to the children many things concerning mother Samuell, insomuch that she coulde doo almost nothing at home for a great time, but the spirit woulde disclose, if it were required by the children in their fits: viz. asto know what she was then in doing at home, or in what place of her house, or els where she was, the spirit would tell: which (by a Messenger presently sent of purpose) was proued true.

65. Now the spirits manifestly began to accuse Mother Samuel to the children in their fits, saying: it was she that had bewitched them, and all those seruants which were bewitched in the house, and told them, that whenever they were in theyr fits, and were either caried to Mother Samuels house, or she caused to come to them, they should be presentl wel.  This many times was proued true, & never failed once: so that if the children at any time being in theifts, had been caried to mother Samuels house, (for it was a very hard thing to get mother Samuel to Ma. Throckmortons house) althought they were in such a case, as y a strong man could scarcely hold them (they would so struggle, starte, and sprawle in his armes) yet if they came but once to the threshold of M. Samuels doore, they would wipe their eyes, and say, I am wel, why doo you carry me, set me down, as though some shame had beene offered them, in that tehy were carried in the streetes, not knowing any thing in what case they had been.  While they cotinued in the house, they were very wel, but dtermining once to come away, and offering to come out of the doore, they fel presently down on the grounde, & were brought from thence in the same case that they were carried thither: contrariwise, whensoever Mo. Samuel came to Ma. Throckmortons house, in what kind of extremity soever these children were in, (as it was most wonderful strange to see them many times) so soone as ever shee had set foote into the Parler or Hal where they were, they wold all presently start up upon their feet, and be as wel as any in the house, and so continue while she was present.  But when she offered to depart, they would all sinck downe as a stone upon the ground: if she turned but her face againe & came towards them, they would be wel as before, which was tryed rr. times in one houre.  And when she departed fro the house, she left them in the same estate wherin she found them, so long as their fit continued upon them.  After this, Ma. Throckmorton thought good to disperse his childre, & sent them abroad, some to one friends house, some to another for a time, to see how they shold be dealt withal, yet alwaies keeping some one of them at home with him.

66. If it shold be declared how these were al seuerally handled for the time they were abroad, it would aske a long discourse, & longer indeed the is thought meet at this time, althogh very strange things, and such as may seeme worth the noting befel every one of them, as this for one: They could tell beeing in their fits, in what case or estate their other sisters were at that instant, being seperated some of them 8. 10. or 12. miles a sunder, I have said, now is my sister, naming her & the place where shee was in her fit very sore handled, as she herselfe also was at that instant.  It was proued to be most true by the ijst computation of times, with many such like things.

67. But this may suffice concerning them being abroad, that they were neuer altogether cleere and free from their fits, although it be true that some of them, whither at home or abroade, had not their fits aboue once in a month, somtimes once in halfe a yeere, and one of them was cleere a whole yeere together.  And this also is verified & true in some of these 5. sisters, that they were neuer cleere nor free from some kind of fit or other, three weekes together: I thinke scarcely three daies since the first day it tooke them, except now since these last Assizes in Lent, whereat these Witches were executed.

68. To passe over all that which might be spoken of them for a yeere and almost an halfe, we will come neerer unto these latter times, wherin the spirits, whither mooued by their own malice, (as it passeth the reach of man to sounde the depth of the denils malice to mankind) or mooued by the malice of the senders, and letters on, or both: it is not knowne, or whether for the conclusion and consummation of their parents patience in this poynt: It pleased the wisedom of God, who in his providence had determined their end, to graunt them, therfore more liberty for the time, to exercise their malice against these children, we leave it to God, but truth it is, that they were more strangely vexed, & more greiuously tormented in their body now of late, & take them generally altogether, then at any time almost from the beginning.

69. And to beginne this time at Michelmasse last past, or thereabouts, foure of these chilldren were altogether at Warboyse, in theyr Fathers house, and the fift, which was the eldest of them, was at her Unckles house, Gilbert Pikering, Esquire, dwelling at Tichemarshe groue.

70. About this time, which was Michelmas 1592. one of these foure children, the youngest save one, neere upon the age of fourteene yeeres, was in a very strange kind of fit, the maner wherof was as followeth: Every day for the space of three weekes or more, she had a sencelesse fitte, some one of the day or other, and sometimes many fits in one day.  In which fit she could neyther heare, see, nor speak to any body, besides, her inward griefs, that she would heave and start, and swell uppe her body, which was very troublesome to her for the time.  When she was out of these fits, she would goe up & down the house very wel, she wold eate & drink, and somtimes be very pleasant in outward gesture with her sisters, she doo any thing, which by any signe she did understand shold be done, she wold make a reuerence as she passed by, unto those where she saw it was due: in so much that any man ignorant of her estate, coulde perceiue nothing to be amisse in her, yet wold she neuer speake to any in particuler, neyther could she heare any y spake to her during that time: except somtimes she wold prattle a little to an infant, which was newlie borne in the house, wherein she tooke great delight.

71. It pleased God, about the beginning of these kind of fits in her, an Aunte of hers being then in y house, was deliuered of a child, upon which occasion, many of her uncles & aunts and other kindred and friends, resorted to the house, and some of them staied a week or ten daies togither, all which time the child was in these kide of fits: and as it happened, Ma. Samuel amongst the rest came to the house, and was brought up into the gentlewomans chamber, where commonly the greatest company was: so soone as she came in, (this childe in question) beeing there, espied her, and presently spake to her, bidding her welcome, & saying that she was a great stranger there, she fetched her up both meat and drink, and wold do any thing readily that she willed her to do.  In the end, she asked Mo. Samuel, whose that little child was which she herselfe had in her armes? the old woman told her, and likewise the name of it, which thing she also demaunded: the chylde mervailed, saying, Is my aunt then brought to bed? I am very glad of it: why then (saith she) such and such of mine, uncles and aunts promised to be heere, who were then indeed in the house, and some of them in that company.  Then Mo. Samuel told her, that such & such whom she asked for, were in presence.  The child said, that she saw no body but her and that little child, which she had in her armes, although she looked full in theyr faces.  Many such like strange things the fell out, which is too long to speak of.  When the old woman departed, the child loste the use of all her sences, and continued in the same case, wherin she was when the olde woman came into the house.

72. When she had continued thus 3. weekes or more, shee came one day out of her Aunts chamber into the hall, and shee had not long staied there, but she fel into a most troublesome fitte for the time, but it continued not long, presently she spake and saide: I am glad, and very glad, repeating it often, on the suddaine shee wiped her eyes, and came out of her fit.  Her mother being in the Hall, she asked her blessing, and enquired of many things, and amongst others, asked how her Aunt did, from whom a little before she came, and knew of nothing that was done, neither that any company had been there for the space of 2. weekes before.

73. It followeth to speake of the rest of her sisters together with herselfe, [...] all of them, as the yeere grew towardes an end, so their griefes and extremity of troubles increased: insomuch, that every day brought with it increase of payne, and strangenes in theyr manner of fits.

74. Towards Hollantide, the spirits grew very familiar with the children, and commonly towards the ende of their fits, when the greatest trouble was over, wold talke with them, halfe an houre together, & sometimes longer: The greatest matter of their talk, was about their maner of fits which they should haue, & concerning Mo. Samuel, whose pleasure it was that they shold be so used, but the spirits said many times, that they woulde bring her to shame for it in the end.  If in this time (beeing in theyr fittes) they had enquired of theyr spyrite, when they should come out of that fitte, wherin then they were, and when they sholde haue another, it would haue told them, and not missed any whit at all.

75. If they had asked how many fittes they should haue the next day following, and the third day, or any day that worke, and how many fits they should haue in one day, and what maner of fittes they should be, whither more grieuous or lesse, howe long euery fitte shoulde continue, and in what parte of the day they should beginne, and when they should ende, it hath tolde them, and not failed in any one poynt, for it hath beene presently sette downe in writing, as the chyldren haue spoken it, (for it was not possible to remember the times for them all) and prooued wholly true.

76. The times and singes, which the spirits did appoint unto the, for the beginning or ending of their fits, were usually these.  In the morning so soone as they did offer to arise out of theyr beds, so some as they were up or ready: so soone as they asked theyr Father blessing, or theyr Mother, or theyr Grandmother: so soone as they tooke a hooke in hand to pray, or when they had ended their prayers: so soone as they went to breakefast, so soone as Dinner was sette uppon the boorde: or so soone as they dyd offer to say grace eyther before or after dinner & so some as they themselues were set downe to dinner, or at the first bit of meate they put in theyr mouthes: or so soone as dinner, was ended, or they had put up their knyfe after dinner: the same circumstances at Supper also observed.  Or if it had beene uppon the Sabboth day, or any day wherein the belles ought to be runge: so soone as the first, second, or third peale ringeth, or haue done ringing, with many such like signes, which woulde bee too long to speake of: appoynted by the spyrite for the children to fall in or out of theyr fittes, which they duely observed & failed not a mynute, as may be thought.

77. After they had continued in this case about a month together or such a thing, whether the spirits were wearie, (as they oftentimes sayd unto the children in theyr fittes, that they now waxed weary of theyr Dame Mo. Samuell) or whether y through the power of gods goodnesse, and speciall protection of they chyldren, the spirits perceiued, that their owne malice, & the malice of their Dame to the children was restrained and kept under in such sort, that they could not kill the children as they desired: for wee may not thinke, that it agreeth with the nature of the euil spyrite to sport and play with man, as these spirites oftentimes did with these little children: they saide to them, that nowe ere long, they wold bring their Dame either to her confession or confusion.  And this was the greates stay of comfort & prop of patience which the parents of these childre & friendes alwaies had: namely, that when these children were in their greatest torment and miseries as might be devised, in such sort as that it made the hart of the beholders many times to met in their bodies, being without all hope euer in this world to see them aliue againe, yet whensoeuer it pleased God to deliuer them out of theyr fits, they would wipe their eyes and bee presently well, as if it had neuer been they, not knowing any thing that had befallen them, so that now it should seeme that God himselfe wold take the matter into his owne hands, & having in his cousell determined an ende thereof, so he would also appoint the meanes to bring it to passe, which was even by the spirits themselves, the instruments of this wickednes.  For now they began to accuse Mo. Samuel, openly to her face, & say y they shal not be wel in any place, excpe they continue in her house, or shee be brought to continue wyth them: and besides that, they shal haue more troublesome fittes than ever they had, except one of those two be brought to passe.

78. Mo. Throckmorton still thinking that the spyrits might lye, was contended to try the uttermost to three weekes togeher, all which time his children had very many most grievous and troublesome fits: insomuch that when night came, there was neuer a one of them able to goe to their beds alone, their legges were so ful of paine and sores, besides many other griefes they had in theyr body (being out of their fits) which was not usuall with them: and one of them also for all that time of 3. weekes, neuer had use of her legs, except it were an howre or two in one day, whie Mother Samuell was in the house, and then she was able to goe, and was very well, as the rest also were: otherwise her legs were thrust uppe to her body as if they had beene tyed with stringes, and where you sette her downe, there you should finde her, except she crept away.

79. Maister Throckmorton, perceiuing that by meanes hee could gette leaue of old Iohn Samuell, for the old woman to come to his house, although he offered very largely for it, which was, to allow him if it came to ten pounds in the yeere for the boorde and wages, of the best seruaunt in Huntington-shyre to doo hys busines (if he would) in her stead, besides his promise & bonde, if he would require it, for the well using of his wife while shee was with him, he could finde no other remedy for the health of hys children, but to carry them thither: which hee did, who so soone as they came into the house, were all presently wel, which he perceiuin, sayd, that his children should dwell there, & out of the house they should not goe, he would prouide for theyr necessities.  The man seeing this, that there was no striving with the company, quenched out of the fire, and it was a cold season, saying that he would starue them, besides very many euill words, which came from him and his daughter at that time.  All that day they continued there very wel, and did both eate and drinke, and read in their booke, and were very merry.  At night when the man Iohn Samuel perceiued that they should lodge there, hee thought that they would be very troublesome to him, and therefore gaue his faithfull promise, that his wife should come to Ma. Thorckmortons house the next morning, & continue with hym: wherupon Ma. Throckmorton tooke home his children, & they were in their fits so soone as they came out of his doores, and so continued all that night.  The next morning Ma. Thrackmorton went for the old woman, but she was gone no body knewe whither, so he sent againe for his children, who so soone as they came into the house, were wel.  Towards night, came in the old woman, who said that she had been 2. or 3. miles out of y town, and her husband know of her going, because she should not come to Ma. Throckmortons, which when he understood that she had spoken, (for she spake it priuately, desiring them to whome shee spake it, not to tell her husband) he utterly forswore the matter, and presently fell upon his wife, and beate her very sore with a cudgell many being present, before she could be rescued by them.  In the end, when the man perceued Ma. Throckmorton stil to continue in the same mind aforesaid, he was contended to let his wife go home with the that night, who went all to Ma. Throckmortons house very wel together, & so continued the space of nine or ten daies following, without any maner of sorenes, lamenes, or any maner grudging of fits, and in better care, then they had been (as it was wel knowne) all of them together, for the space of three whole yeeres before.  This made the parents right glad, and to use the woman as a welcome guest.  At the tenne dayes end, the old Woman intreated Mistres Throckmorton, for her husband was gone forth that morning, that she might goe home, making her excuse to fetch something that she wanted.  Mistres Throckmorton was very loth to grant it, promising that she her selfe wold rather fetch what she would haue, then that she shod goe out of her house: yet the olde woman, saying that no bodie could come by that thing that she wold haue, but herselfe (which happily was true) and promising her present returne, shee yeelded to her request.

80. Soone after shee was gone, some of the children fell into theyr fits againe as before times, & the spirite then talking with them, said.  That now Mo. Samuel was feeding her spirites, & making a new league and composition with them, which was, that although now she came againe to the house, they shal be no whit the better, but rather the worse for her being there, because shee would not remaine any longer there: which thing seemed to bee true that the chyld spake, for so soone as she came againe (which was not before she was sent for 4. or 5. houres after she went) the children which were in their fitts at her comming, so continued, and they that were not after her comming, fell into their fits, all of them crying out that nowe Mo. Samuel had made a newe composition with her spirits, and now they should be no whitte better for her presence, but rather the worse.

81. Maister Throckmorton when he came home, and perceiuing the case otherwise with his children then he left it, and the cause why, could not be but hartily sorry: yet referred all to the good pleasure of GOD, and would not suffer the olde woman to depart his house, for this cause chiefely, because his children being in theyr fits, could neither heare, see, nor speake to any body, but to her, & some of the chidren could take nothing, but that which she eyther gaue them, or touched with her hands.

82. Mother Samuel remaining thus with the children, shee coulde not be in any place of the house alone, neither doing any thing about the house, but the children in theyr gits wold reveale it, specially when she was feeding of her spyrits, for then the chyldren would say: now is Mother Samuell in such a place of the house feeding of her spyrits: when they went and looked, there they should finde her, but whether dooing any such thing or not, God and her conscience are the best witnesses.

83. Many times also as she sate talking with these children, being in their fits by the fire side, they would say unto her: Looke you heere Mo. Samuel, doo not you see this thing that sitteth heere by us? she would aunswere no, not she: why they wold say againe, I mervaile that you doo not see it, looke how it leapeth, skyppeth, and playeth uppe and downe: poynting at it with their fingers here & there as it leaped. Somtimes also they would say, Harke Mo. Samuel, how you not heare it? harke how loude it is, I mervaile you doo not heare it, nay you cannot but heare it.  She wold denie it, and bid them aske their father, or some other whom she saw to stand by, whether they heard it or not.  The children wold aunswer, that they saw no body although thtey stood hard by the.  Then would they tell Mo. Samuel, that it telleth them, that shee both heareth it, seeth it, and sent it.  The father these childre, Ma. Throckmorton, to make a kind of experience of this matter, one night willed Mo. Samuel, that it telleth them, that shee both heareth it, seeth it, and sent it.  The father of these childre, Ma. Throckmorton, to make a kind of experience of this matter, one night willed Mo. Samuell (as hee might have doone to any other then beeing present) to name howe many fittes those three children that then were in their fits, shoulde haue the next day following, and what kind of fits they shold haue, when they should being, and how long they should continue.  Mo. Samuel, was very loth to be brought unto it: yet in the end, theyr father saying that she should doe it.  shee saide, one of them shall aue three fittes, naming the child, such & such for the manner, namely easie fittes, appointing the time for their beginnings and endings: th eother shall haue none, but be well all the day.  All which fits, proued very instly in euery one of them the next day, as she had spoken.

84. At an other time not long after, Mo. Samuel sitting by these chyldren beeing in their fittes as before, Ma. Throckmorton theyr father, and some other also being with him, demaunded of Mo. Samuell, saying, that he had heard, that those that were acquainted with these spirits (as the children say that shee is) and had retained them in their seruice, to doo for them as they commaunded, that they did feede them, and reward them with some thing from them, but most usually with their bloode, and that euery day: now therefore (said he) make open confession, & shame the devil in telling the truth, whether you doo any such thing or not.

85. Shee most vehemently denied it, with many bitter words and curses upon her selfe, desiring the Lord, to shew some present token from heaven upon her, that all the world might knowe, that she was such a kind of woman, as they suspected her for, if she used any such thing, or rewarded them any such way, or had any spirits, or knew what they were.

86. Presently after, Maister Throckmorton, and Maister Henry Pickering, uncle to the said childre, who was then with him, hearing her use such protestations, being half terrified in her harts, (because they alway vehemently suspected her giltinesse) that she shoulde thus violently with her owne handes (as it were) pull downe the iudgments of God uppon her head, went out of the doores, and before they were gone ten paces from the house, another young Gentleman, Maister Iohn Lawrence (cozen to the sayd children) that stayed behinde in the Parlor, came to Maister Throckmorton, and Ma: Henry Pickering, & saide that mother Samuels chin did bleede: whereupon they returned into the Parlor agayn where she was, and sawe the napkin where with shee had wiped away the blood from her chin, to be bloody to the quantitie of eight or ten drops.  Then Ma. Throckmorton, with the rest looked uppon her chinne, and there was no more to be seene than upon the back of a cleane hande, onely there appeared some fewe little red spots, as if they had beene flea-bytings.  Then Maister Throckmorton demaunded of her, whether her chin used to bleede so or not: She sayd, that it did very often.  He asked her, who coulde witnesse it but her selfe?  She sayd no bodie, for it did alwayes bleed when she was alone, and she neuer tolde any body of it.

87. This her bleeding at the chinne, she did confesse to the sayde Maister Henry Pickering, after shee was condemned, that the spirites were then sucking at her chinne, when shee made that protestation to Maister Throckmorton and him, and that when she wyped them of with her hand, her chinne bled, which sometimes it had done before, after their sucking, but not often, and neuer so much as then, nay scarcely the quantitie of one drop at any time before.

88. And thys by the way, as a generall note throughout the Booke, where there is one of these straunge thinges set downe (if they bee so accounted as straunge) there are ten omitted, which may as well bee put in, and (in the iudgement of them that heare of them) are no lesse straunge than these: And for that which this Booke dooth contayne, it is set downe uppon the suddayne, and as it commeth to present memorie, at the request of diuers Right Worshipfull, and especially for the motion sake of the Right Worshpfull, Maister Justice Fenner, one of the Patrons heereof.  And for the trueth of the most of these thinges herein contayned, they were gyuen in evidence, and ready to bee given agaynst the partyes accused, if eyther neede should have required or time serued, uppon the oathe of dyuers Gentlemen on the Assizes day at Huntington, before the sayde parties: And for the rest which were not then alleadged, if any shall made doubt thereof, there are dyuers Gentleman, of honest report, ready to confyrme the same auppon theyr oathes, if neede shoulde so require, that were present, some at one tyme, and some at another, at all these seuerall Tragedies, (as they may be tearmed.)

89. At another time, soone after, the spirites tolde the children (then being in theyr fits, the olde woman also standing by them) that if theyr Father Maister Throckmorton woulde then presently goe to Iohn Samuells house, his daughter Agnes Samuell, who then dwelt at home with her father, and is not yet brought into question about any of these matters, woulde hide her selfe, and not be seene of him.  Maister Throckmorton hearing them, said, that he would goe presently and make tryall thereof.  When he came to the house, Agnes Samuell, whether perceiuing Ma: Throckmorton, or any of his company, or what so ever els it was, it is not knowne, but she went up into the Chamber (there being but one in the house) she stayres wherof stoode in the same Parlor belowe where her father was, and the doore therof was a trappe doore: where-upon shee set sackes of corne, and tubbes with some such like things, to keepe it downe.  Maister Throckmorton hearing a noyse in the house throught there was some such matter in hand, & continued still knocking at the doore.  Presently Iohn Samuell asked who was there, and what he would, with some such lyke questions, and in the ende, knowing what he was, sayde hee shoulde not come in; Then Maister Throckmorton when on the other side of the house, and finding the back doore open, went in, and when hee came into the Parlor where the man was in hys bedde, beeing about eight of the clocke or something before, he asked for Agnes Samuell, his daughter, and where shee was, Iohn Samuell had not hys oathe to seeke, but presently swore as God iudge his soule (which was hys common oath, and used also divers times before the Benche at his arraignement, yea, and until the very time of his execution) that he knew not where she was. 

90. Ma. Throckmorton asked when he saw her? He aunswered, that since the evening she was in the house, but where now shee is, he could not tell.  He asked if she was not in the chamber ouer them, he swore he could not tel, which thing he could not (indeed) but know, for it was a very low chamber, and shee coulde not sturre her foote in it, but he must needes heare her: besides, her going up into it, for the stayres stood hard at his beds feete, and the noyse also shee made in the hearing of Ma. Throckmorton and the rest comming into the house.  Ma. Throckmorton verely suspecting that she was there, called to her three or 4. times and willed her to aunswer if shee was there, for it was all that he desired, to know where she was, but she would not answer: Then Ma. Throckmorton tooke the candle, and said he woulde goe up and see, but when he came to the toppe of the staires, the trap doore was so fast, that he could not sturre it, which he perceiuing, said, that surely eh wold break open the doore, or breake up the plancher of the chamber, for he woulde goe into it before he went out of the house, and willed one of the company to fetch him a barre of yron or some such like thing, for hee would doe it indeede.

91. The Maide hearing Ma. Throckmorton thus resolute, aunswered that shee was there: then Ma. Throckmorton willed her to come downe: which she did, remooving those thinges that before shee had set uppon the doore, so hee departed home to his house, challenging the man for his naughty lye, which yet hes  stiflie stood in.  But to let an hundred of these things passe with their fellowes, and to come neerer the olde womans confession, and the maner of it: you shall understand, that mother Samuel grew now to be mervailous weary of Maister Throckmortons house, both because shee coulde doo nothing in the house, but the chyldren in their fits would reueale it, and especially, because the children in their fits, likewise had told her twenty times, to her face, that she shold confesse this matter before the Tuesday after Twelve day, and that the spirits had told them, that they would enforce her to confesse it in despight of her, and she had often experience, that whatsoever the spirits foretold, proued most true.

92. Now this Tuesday which the children so often named, was not then thought upon (of any that heard it) to be the Sessions day at Huntington, as it is generally in most places of England, no not within a weeke or more after the children had spoken of it: yet were they often whispering with themselves (alwaies in theyr fittes as you must understande it) about that Tuesday, wishing oftentimes, that it were once come, for y was some happy day (they would say) belike for them, for after that day the spirits had told them, they should neuer have moe fittes : so that all theyr ioy in theyr fittes, was for that day, yet they would say to themselues, that the spirits doth tell them, that it may happily be before that Tuesday: but on y Tuesday at the farthest shee must confesse it, and they must be well, but if shee would confesse it before, they should be well prsently whensoeuer shee did confesse it.

93. For thys cause the children in their fits continually woulde exhort her to confesse it, tha they might be well, which yet shee alwaies would denie to doo, saying: that shee wold not confesse that which shee neuer did know of, nor consented unto: the children would aunswere, that they woulde not wishe her to accuse herselfe for any thing, and therefore willed her to looke ot that in any respect, yet they said, that they enforced no more upon her, then what the spirits had told them.  Yet to speake the trueth of these chyldren and no more, if any thing heerein written of them be strange, thys for strangenesse goeth beyond all other, and for trueth equall to the rest: such were the heuenly & devine speeches of these children in theyr fits, to this olde woman, some at one time, some at another, concerning her confession of thy fact, as that if a man had heard it, hee woulde not haue thought himselfe better edified at tenne Sermons.

94. The matter of theyr speech was thys, concerning chiefly the ioyes of heaven which shee should loose: and the torments of hel which shee shoulde endure, if shee beeing guilty woulde not yet confesse, and the eschewing of the one and enioying of the other, if shee would confesse and be sorry for that shee had doone: they rehearsed likewise unto her, her naughty manner of lyuing, her usuall cursing and banning of all that displeased her, and especially of their parents, and of them: (which shee coulde not deny) her negligent comming to Church, and slacknesse in Gods seruice, all which she confessed to them, but she woulde now begin to ammende she said, Her leude bringing up of her Daughter, in suffering her to her Dame, both in controwling of her, and beating of her, which before had beene proved to her face, & shee herselfe had also confessed.  They remembred also unto her, that which they had heard some speak of, whe they were out of their fittes: namely, that she had said, that their fits were but wantonnesse in them: they asked her now, whether she was still of that minde or not: Shee aunswered no: with many such like speeches, and in the ende, concluded with their harty prayer to God for her, saying that they woulde forgive her from bottome of their hart, if she wold confesse it that they might be wel, besides that, that they woulde intreate theyr parents and theyr friendes (so much as in them lay) cleerely to forgiue and forget all that was past.  Their maner of behauior in this their exhortation to her was, that as for the most part they beganne wyth teares, so they continued, and alwaies ended with teares: insomuch that there was not any y heard them, could abstaine fro weeping, onely the old woman was little or nothing mooved.

95. This kinde of behavior in the children, passed or untill neerer Christmas, yet without any touch or sturring of the old woman, in the meane season every day almost, this old woman had a fit of bleeding at the nose, and bled very much at a time (which is not usuall in old age) so that now she wared fainte, and looked very pale, insomuch, that Maister Throckmorton and his wife, were very careful for her, fearing some harme should come unto her in his house: and comforted her by all the meanes they could, not suffereing her to want any thing that shee desired, if possibly they could come by it: so that she dyd confesse to all that came to her, that shee was mervailous well used of Maister Throckmorton, and thought herselfe greatly bounde to him, as truely shee had no other cause.

96. For as for her businesse, shee dyd nothing, but her own work, and for her dyet, she sat at his owne boorde, or with his children, if they were in their fits, and coulde not sit downe, and for her lodging shee lay continually in his owne Chamber and for the most part with one of his children.

97. And to tell you one thing more of her before her confession, one of thse Children, Mistresse Elizabeth Throckmorton, was one day not well at ease, and coulde not eate any meate: yet when night came and supper was ready, she thought to make her selfe amendes: but when she was ready to sitte at the Table, she fell presently into her fitte, and yet that was not all the punishment she had, but her mouth was locked uppe, that shee coulde neither eate, drinke, nor speake, as it was an usuall thing with them all, to haue theyr mouthes shut uppe, especially at meale tymes, and other whyles shutte and open, halfe a dozen tymes in a dinner, so woulde the spirites sporte with them: but shee went so to bedde, very sorowfull and weeping, what her griefe was, none can tell, because she was not able to utter it: when the next day came, shee was sicke and ill, as the day before, (yet out of her fitte) and eate very little or nothing at all, when night came she sayde shee felt her selfe well amended, and very hungry: not knowing for her part, but that she had eaten her supper the night before.

98. Then was shee councelled by them that feared the worst, to eate something, but she sayde she woulde not, purposing to eate her part at supper, when the time came, and meate was set upon the boorde, shee fell into the same case as shee had beene in the night before, which Maister Throckmorton perceiuing, hee sayde to the olde woman that stoode by her.  I thinke (Mother Samuell) you are disposed to pyne that wenche.  She made hym aunswere no, shee was rather sorry to see it.  Well sayde hee, surely you shall neyther eate nor drinke, untill shee canne doo both, and therefore (sayde Maister Throckmorton) whilest shee fasteth, you shall fast, and when she can eate, you shall eate, but not before, use the matter as you will.  And thus they continued both fasting, untill Supper was almost ended, and the companie ready to arrise: the one fasting uppon necessitie, because she could not eate, and the other for Maister Throckmortons pleasure, because she might not.

99. The olde woman perceiuning that Ma. Throckmorton was in good earnest with her, & that the meat was caried out of y Parlor: On the suddaine, upon what motion GOD hee knoweth, the child fetched a great sigh, for she had beene weeping all Supper time, and spake, saying, If I had some meate now, I could eate it.

100. Mistres Throckmorton (the childes Mother) hearing her speake, as did also all the rest that were in the Parlor, commanded presently that meate should be giuen to them both, the companie not giuing notice to Mother Samuel of the mater: so they both fell to themeate very hartily, but especially the olde Woman, who as it should seeme, was then very hungry, (as shee had alwaies a good stomacke) and from that time forwardes, during the olde womans continuing in the house, neither that child, nor any of her sisters, had their mouthes shut up, at anie time when they shoulde eate their meate, or if they were, they did not long continue so.  Although it was a common custome with them before time, to haue gone supperlesse to bed upon that very occasion, many a time.

101. After all these matters were passed over, and as it wared euery day neerer and neerer to the time appointed, Mo. Samuel euery day complained of a new griefe to befall her, sometimes she would cry out of her backe, that it was so full of paine, that she was not able to sturre herselfe in her bedde all the day long, nor take any rest at night.

102. Sometimes she would in like sorte cry out of her head, otherwhiles of her stomacke: yet shee would eate her meate, saying that shee had a gnawing at her hart, and the next day after, it would be in her knee, or lower, so that shee woulde goe halting up and downe the house.  And to speake the trueth of her, it should seeme that something there was that troubled her, whatsoeuer it was, for she would so grone, and mone herselfe in the nyght time, one while complayning of this parte of her bodie, another while of that, that indeede shee rested but little in the night tyme herselfe, and greatly disquieted those also that lay in the Chamber by her.

103. And one night amongst all the rest, shee cryed out verie pittifully of her bellie, insomuch, that shee disturbed and awakened both Ma. Throckmorton and his wife, that lay by her, saith Maister Throckmorton.  In Gods name Mo. Samuel, what aileth you and why do you grone so? said she, I have a marvellous great paine in my belly on the suddaine, and I know not how it should be caused.  Why said he, what is the matter in your belly?  She answered, that there was somthing in it, which as she thought stirred, and it was as big as a penny loafe: and put her to maruellous paine: wherupon Mistresse Throgmorton arose out of her bed, and went and felt upon her belly, and there was indeed a maruellous swelling to the quantitie before likened, but she felt it not stirre, not staying long with her, the weather was so cold, and be it spoken without offence to women, it may be that she bred then that childe, wherewithall she said she was when she was asked what she could say (by my Lord the Judge, why sentence of death should not be giuen against her,) as hereafter you shall heare.  But whatsoeuer it was, she cried out to P. Throgmorton of her belly, and said she was full of pain, and further she said, that she had often told him, that she thought there was euill spirits hanted his house, which did thus torment his children, which thing he told her that he did easily beleeve was true, and now saith she, I verely beleeue, that one of them is gotten into my belly.  Maister Throgmorton sayd, that all this might verie well be true.  So she said,, that it was an euil house, and haunted with spirits, and wished that she had neuer come into it: he told her that if there were anie euill spirits haunted the house, they were of her sending, and so he would grant all that she sayd.  In the end she passed away that night with groaning and moning, and the next morning she was verie euill at ease she sayd, but her swelling in her belly was gone, and where her greatest paine was she could not tell, it was in so many places, but her stomacke was the best of any other part, and after this she continually complained of one part of her bodie or other, so long as shee stayed in the house.

104. Within a verie short time after, one of the children fell into a most terrible fitte mother Samuell standing by, and it was so greeuous uppon her for the time, as that neither shee nor anie of her sisters, had the lyke for the space of a yeare or two before, and especially her neesing fit was so terrible and strong uppon her as if it would haue caused her eyes to start out of her head.  This fit did greatly quayle mother Samuell, for shee her selfe did then thinke, that shee should haue seene the childe dyed at that present, and this wroong out of mother Samuell prayers : so that shee desrired the Lord then to helpe her, and to preserue her in that danger, and she hoped neuer to see her in the like againe.  But the more earnest mother Samuell was in her prayers, the greater was the childes trouble and torment, and the oftener she named God, or Jesus Christ, the stronger the childes fit was uppon her.  And at that verie instant (as hereafter you shall heare of the rest) when she had thus continued some two houres or more, the spirit spake unto the child and said, that there was a worse fit then this to come yet, wherein she must be worse handled then thus, the childe answered, that she cared neither for him nor his dame, but willed them to do their worst they could to her, for (she sayd) she hoped God would deliuer her, and soone after she came foorth of her fit and was verie well; but the sight of this fit was so terrible to mother Samuell, as shee would many times pray that shee might neuer see the lyke againe in anie of them.

105. The children continued still all of them calling uppon mother Samuell to make confession of this matter, saying that shee must do it before it be long.  And as good at first as at last, but if she would now do it, that they might be well before Christmas, they would then thinke themselves beholding to her.  They told her further, that now Christmas was at hand, and if she would now confesse it; then should be presently well, and keepe (by the grace of God ) a merrie Christmas.  She answered that she would do for them all the good she could, but for confession of this matter, she would not, for it was a thing she neuer knew of, nor consented unto.  Their father maister Throgmorton, hearing his children and the olde woman thus talke togither, stepped in and sayd, Mother Samuel you heare what these children say, which is, that if you would confesse this fact, they should be presently well, and they say that you must confesse it before it be long, and you know that they haue not used to tell lyes in their fits.  Now therefore in the name of God, if there be anie such matter, confesse it: it is neuer too late to repent, and to aske for mercie: but she made to him the like answere that she had done to the children before.  Then said he, but what say you to that greeuous fit which the spirit of late threatned to my daughter Iane, I would fain know when that should be, Oh saith she (remembring the terror of it) I trust in God I shall neuer see her in such a case again; nor any of them all.  Yes saith maister Throgmorton, I verely thinke she shall haue it, and that shortly, for the spirit you know useth not to faile them in any thing he promiseth, Oh (saith she) I trust in God she shall neuer haue it, speaking maruellous confidently.  Why saith M. Throg. charge the spirit in the name of God, y she may escape this fit which is threatned.  She presetly said, I charge thee spirit in the name of God, that mistresse Iane neuer haue this fit.  The child sitting by said, truly the thing saith, I thanke God, that I shal neuer haue this fit, that he hath foretold me of. Saith maister Throgmorton, why, that is well, thankes be to God, go on mother Samuell, and charge the spirit in the name of GOD, and speake from your heart, that neither she nor any of them all haue their fittes any more.  So she said as maister Throgmorton willed her, speaking maruellous heartily.  The same child again said, truly the thing saith I thanke God, that I shall neuer haue it more after the Tuesday after Twelfeday.  Saith maister Throgmorton, it is well thankes be to God, charge the spirit againe in the name of God, and speake from your heart, and be not afraide, that he depart from them all now at this present, and that hee neuer returne to them againe, whiche wordes she uttered verie loude, and verie boldly.  So soone as she had ended, then those three children that were then in their fits, & had so contined for the space of three weekes, wiped their eyes, and at that instant thrust backe the stooles whereon they sat, and stood uppon their legges, being as well as ever they were in their liues.  M. Throgmorton had his face now towards the children, & his back to the old woman, & seeing them so to start up sodenly, said thankes be to God.  While he was thus speaking (little knowing or thinking indeed of any such matter) y old woman fell down behind him on her knees & said, good M. forgiue me.  He turned him about, and seeing her down, said, why mother Samuell what is the matter? O sir said she, I haue bene the cause of all this trouble to your children.  Haue you mother Samuell sayd hee? and why so? what cause did I euer giue you thus to use me and my children? None at all sayd she.  Then said maister Throgmorton, you haue done me the more wrong.  Good maister sayd she, forgiue me.  God forgiue you sayd he, and I do: But tell me, how came you to be such a kinde of woman? Maister, sayd she, I haue forsake my maker, and giuen my soule to the divell (these were her verie wordes.) And old mistresse Throgmorton their grand-mother, and mistresses Throgmorton their mother, begin now in the hall, (for this was done in the parlour,) hearing them verie loud (not understanding the matter perfectly) came in into the parlour, of whome, (when mother Samuell saw her) she asked likewise forgiuenesse.  Mistresse Thorgmorton their mother, presently without any questions forgque her with all her heart, yet she could not well tell what the matter was.  Mother Samuell asked those three children that were there forgiuenesse, and afterwards the rest, kissing all of them: the children easily forgaue her, for they knew not that she had offended any of them, in their own persons: (except what they saw in their sisters, when they themselues were out of their fits.)  Maister Throgmorton & his wife, perceiuing the old woma thus penitent, and so greatly cast downe: for she did nothing but weep & lament all this time, comforted her by all the good meanes they could, and said that they would freely forgiue he rfrom their hearts, so be it their children might neuer be more troubled.  She answered, that she trusted in God, they should neuer haue their fits again, yet would she not be comforted for any thing that they could say.  Then M. Throgmorton did send for M. Doctor Dorrington, the Minister of that town, & told him all the matter with the circumstances, desiring him to comfort her, which they all ioyning togither, did so well as they could at that present: yet could not she forbeare weeping, & so continued all that night.  The next day which was the Sabboth day, and Christmas eue, M. Doctor Dorrington chose his text of repentance out of the Psalmes, on set purpose to comfort her, and there declared in the open assembly, all the matter of mother Samuelles late confession, applying his speeche directlie to the comforting of a penitent heart, and so by consequence of her.  All this Sermon time, mother Samuel did nothing but weepe and lament, and many times was so very loude with sundrie passions, that she cansed all the church to looke on hir.  And thus much farther you shal know for this point: maister Throgmorton the same day after praiers were ended, very wisely remembring himselfe, and the old womans unconstancie heretofore, called to mind y there was none present at her confession but himselfe and maister Doctor, with his owne houshold, who might be all thought partiall in this matter, willed therefore mother Samuell to come into the body of the church, and there demaunded of her before his neighbours, whether that confession which she over night had made to him and maister Doctor was wrested wroong out of her, or whether it proceede frankly and freely of and from her self.  She answered before them all that it came of hir selfe, and desired all her neighbours to pray to God for her, and to forgiue her.

106. Towards night maister doctor Dorrington understanding the old woman still to continue in this heauie case, came to maister Throgmortons house (who is his brother in law by marriage) and intreated him (upon simplicitie of good will) tendying the old womans comfort, to giue her leaue to go home to her husband, and he would be a meanes that her husband should receaue her, and to reconcile them together, wherein the old woman was maruellous dutifull.  To this motion maister Throgmorton did easily graunt at the first, being as willing to comfort the old woman, as any, and indeed used the means himselfe also that her husband might receiue her, little suspecteing that any thing should fall out thereby otherwise then well.  The man when he understood of it, spoke bluntly (as his manner was) saying that she might come home if she would.

107. Now that you haue heard this old womans confession, it may happilie seeme strange in some points to some, but for the truth of it, it is as certainlie true, as is any part of this booke, both the mtter and the maner, and the words also observued in al points, so neare as possibly could be remembred.  Mother Samuel is now upon Christmas even at night gone home to her husband and her daughter, wher we doubt she hath a cold welcome for her intertainment, and the rather because she hath confessed this matter, for it should seem that they both set upon her (as she her self after confessed, & so far forth prevailed with her, as that the next morning, which was Christmas day, she denied all that she had sayd before, and it was no such matter with her.  Before night it came to M. Throgmortons hearing that this new convert had reuolted again, and had denied all that she had spoken to him: the best comfort he had herein, was the open confession she made in the church, and therupon did hardly beleeve that which was reported of her.

108. The same day in the evening, maister doctor Dorington and M. Throgmorton wet to her house to know the truth, and when they came at the dore it pleased God that Iohn Samuel, his wie, and his daughter were talking of this matter; for it should seeme that it was all their talke, which they understanding, stayed a while, and heard the daughter say these words, Beleeue them not, beleeue them not, for all their faire speeches.  Here upon they went both presently into the house and changed the daughter with these words, which she utterly denied, as did also the father and the mother.  Then did maister Throgmorton demaund of her, concerning the matter which before she had confessed in his house and in the church, telling her that he had heard that she had denied it againe.  She answered, that she would denie that shee was a witch, or any cause of the troubling of his children.  Why sayd he, did not you confesse so much unto me? I said so (sayth she) indeed, but it is nothing so.  Why then, sayd he, I must not shew you that fauour with I promised : I will surely haue you before the Justices: but sayd he, why did you confesse it to be so to me, if it be not so? She answered, for ioy, For ioy, sayd he, (smiling to himselfe, maruelling what she could make of it) and why for ioy?  Because sayd she, I did see your children so presently well, after your good prayers and mine.  Then sayd maister Throgmorton unto her, I pray God so continue them, not withstanding howsoever it bee, I will not let passe this matter thus, for seeing it is published, eyther you or I will beare the shame of it in the end, and so they departed for that night.

109. The next morning betimes, maister Throgmorton went to maister doctor Doringtons house, and told him, that hee would not suffer this matter thus to die in his hand, least the worser sort of the people should imagine that this was but some deuise of theirs, to bring the old woman into further danger.  So they agreed to approue her once againe in this mtter, and sending for her to the Church, they found her father off from confessing anything that shee had sayd or done, then euer she was before.  Then maister Throgmorton tooke her by the hand, and sayd that both she and her daughter should that day (by Gods grace) go with him to my Lord the Bishop of Lincolnes.  So he presently sent for the Constables, and charged them with the mother and the daughter, and willed them to prouide for the iourney.

110. When the old woman perceiued preparation for the iourney, and the Constables in a readinesse, maister Throgmorton also putting on of his boots, she came to him and sayd, Maister if you will go with me into the parlor, I wll confesse all to you alone.  Sayd hee, I will go.  So they went together, and there she confessed the whole matter againe unto him which before shee had done.  Why then sayde he, tell me why haue you denied it all this time? Oh sayd she, I would neuer haue denied it but for my husband and my daughter, who sayd that I was a foole in confessing of it, and that it had bene better for me to haue died in the same estate I was in, then to confesse my selfe a Witch, for now euery bodie will call me old Witch whilest I live.  Maister Throgmorton told her, if she would persist in confessing the truth, hee would shew her all the favour he could.  In this meane while commeth in unto them maister Doctor Dorington, and he fell into questioning with her, but she seemed something coldly to confesse that unto him which before she had done: so he drue her aside, and maister Throgmorton went from them.  Then did maister Doctor Dorington call for penne, ynke, and paper, and wrote downe that confesion which she made.  In the meane time maister Throgmorton sent to the Church, which is adioyning to his house, and there being diuers of his neighbours, for it was about prayers time, he desired them to come to him, and telling them the matter, placed them hard underneath the Parlor window where maister doctor and this old woman were talking together.  Wherof when notice was giuen to maister Doctor, hee spake very loude, and willed the old woman to lift up her voice also, faining something, so that the neighbours which were without might easily heare all y words that passed between them,  Whe they had done, M. Throgmorton went unto them into the parlor, & desired them to come forth into the hall : when they came, there stood al y neighbors that had heard this matter, then beganne M. Doctor to read in their presence that which the woman had confessed, but she would faine haue denied al again.  Nay said the neighbors to her, it is too late to denie any thing now, for we heard al this with our ears, telling to her the place where they were.  When she perceiued herself thus catched in a trap, she would haue made the best of it, but it would not prevaile.  As they were thus in the house together, came in Iohn Samuell, the old womans husband, who had understood that there was somthing to do in the house cocerning his wife.  Whe he was come, M. Throgmorton told him that which his wife had againe confessed, & with the rest he said, that his wife would neuer haue denied that which she did but for him and his daughter.  Hast thou sayd so: sayd he to his wife (giuing hir a foule terme) and with that would haue stricken her, had not others stood betwixt them.  The old woman perceiuing her husband thus fiercely comming towards her, fel down presently in a counterfet sound before the all.  Mistresse Throgmorton standing by, was on the sudden marvellously amased therat, & called for aquavite for hir.  When they tooke her up, they perceiued her countenance nothing altered, but ath she looked chearefull ynough.  One of her neighbors standing by, peradventure better acquainted with her fashions then the rest, sayd, if they would let her alone, he would be their warrant, that she would doe well ynough: so presently after she came to her selfe againe, and al was well.  These circumstances about her confession are therefore the more expresly set downe although they be not so pertinent to the matter, neither indeed should have bene declared at all, had it not ben reported by some in the countrie, and those that thought themselves wise, that this mother Samuell now in question, was an old simple woman, and that one might make her by fair words cofesse what they would.  But to leaue that to the iudgement of them that knew her well ynough, Maister Throgmorton continued on his iornie, purposing to discharge himselfe of the matter, and caused the old woman with her daughter to be carried the same day to my :. the Bishop of Lincoln, and there he examined her and her daughter.

111. The Examination of Alice Samuell of Warbois, in the countie of Huntinngton, taken at Buckden before the right reuerend Father in God, William, by Gods permission Bishop of Lincolne, the 26 of December, 1592.

112. Being asked whether a dun chicken did ever suck on her chin, and how often, the said Examinat sayth, that it sucked twise and no more since Christmas euens euen last. Being asked whether it was a natural chicken, she saith that it was not, she knoweth that it was no natural chicken, because when it came to her chin she scarce feele it, but when she wiped it off with her hand, her chin did bleed. She saith further, that the sayd dun chicken first come unto her and sucke on her chin before it came to M. Throgmortons house, and that the ill and the trouble that hath come to M. Throgmortons children, hath come by means of the sayd dun chicken, the which chicken she knoweth is now both gone from them and from her.  And further she sayth, that M. Throgmorton and M. doctor Dorington shall bring further information of such things as yet she hat not declared. 

113. The Examination of Alice Samuell of Warboyi in the Countie of Huntington, taken at Buckden the 29 day of December 1592, before the reuerend Father in God, William by Gods permission Bishop of Lincolne, Francis Crumwell, and Richard Tryce, Esquires, Iustices of her Maiesty's peace within the Countie aforesayd.

114. She saith that she never did hurt to any, sauing to the childre in question. Being demaunded how she knoweth the said dun chicken is gone from the sayd children: shee sayth, because the sayd dun chicken, with the rest, are now come into her, and are now in the bottome of her bellie, and make her so full, that she is like to burst, and this morning they caused her to be so full, that she could scant lace her cote, and that on the way as she came, they weighed so heuie, that the horse she rid on did fall downe and was not able to carrie her.  And further she sayth that the upright man of whome she hath confessed to maister Throgmorton, told her that M. Throgmorton was a hard man & would trouble her much, wherefore he would give her six spirits that should vex and torment his children, and so he did: which spirits had reward from her by sucking of her blood oftentimes when they were without her body, and that the sayd spirits did suck of her blood before she sent the forth any whither. She saith further, that whatsoever the children of M. Throg. did speake in their fits prooued true & was true: as for example, whesoever the said children said they did see the said spirits, then were the spirits there, & she did also see the. And she saith, y often times she did giue a privie becke or nod, with her finger or head, & then the spirits presently stopped the childrens mouths, that they could not speake untill they came out againe: & then would y children wipe their eyes and be well again. Further she saith, that it was taught her of a ma that did come unto her house, but where he dwell, or what his name was, she cannot tell, who told her that if she would call the said six spirits they would come: and she called them, & they appeared in the likenes of dun chickens, their names were as followeth: first, Pluck; secod, Catch; the third White; and the other three she called with her mouth with three smacks: and two of them, she (this examinate) sent to M. Ro. Throgmorton of Warbois and his wife, and they returned again, and told her that God would not suffer them to prevaile. Wherupon she (this Examinat) sent the said spirits to the children of the said M. Throg. by means of wherof they haue ben so strangely tormeted, as to the neighbours and countrie hath beene seene. She sayth further, that what the children speake in their fits in her hearing, y it was true, & so it fel out.   Being asked further what the upright mans name was that gavu her the diuels, she sayd that she could not tell: wherupon she was moued to go into another chamber, & demand of her spirits what his name was, which she presently did,  & there with a loud voice sayd these words as followeth O thou diuell, I charge thee in the name of the Father, the Son, & the Holy-ghost, that thou tel me the name of the vpright man which gaue me the deuils: which thing she did three times, and the returned saying, that her spirits had told her y his name was Langlad. And being demaunded where the said Langland dwelled, she said she could not tell. Then was she mooued to go into the said chamber again, and demaund of her spirits where y said Langland dwelt: which also she presently did, and there with a lowd voice three times sayd, O diuell I charge thee in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy-ghost tel me where the said Langland dwelleth, then she returned and sayd that he had no dwelling. Then was she further moved to go again & demand where y said Langland was at that present, which also she did, and demaunded as before, & returned with this answer, That her spirits told her that he went on the last voiage beyond the seas.  After these cofessions thus made, mother Samuel and hir daughter were committed to the gayle of Huntington. Now that we haue brought mother Samuell to the gayle, we will let her there rest in Gods peace and the Queenes untill the next generall Assises day holden at Huntington, and  although many things fel out unhappily concerning her, during her continuance in the gayle, whereof she was greatly suspected, as the death of one of the Gaylers servants whom she threatned, the extreme sicknesse of one of his children, with his present ammending after the scratching of her, and diverse other thinges which are shrewd peeces of evidence against her, if there had bene nothing else layd to her charge: yet because they doe not concerne the trouble of these children, neither is a matter so perfectly knowne to the authors of this booke, it is therefore but touched by the way.

115. And to come to the daughter Agnes Samuel, who now cometh upon the stage with her part in this tragedie, you shall understand that she was left with her mother in the gayle until the Sessions day held at Huntington the 9 of Januarie following, which day was the Tuesday that the children so often had spoken of to the old woman.

116. At dinner time M. Throgmorton made his request to the high Sheriffe & the Justices to baile this maid, & to have her home to his house, to see, if it might please God, whether any such evidences of guiltinesse would appeare against her, as had before appeared in the children against the mother. This sute was not easily granted, for it was a demur amongst the Iustices whether the maide was baylable by law in this case or no.  In the end M. Throgmorton cotinuing his sute, they being resolved of y doubt, and graunted it: but it was almost three of the clock in the afternoon before, as every body ca witnesse y were the present: which time is therefore here mentioned because it hath relation to the next point that hereafter followeth, as you shall heare.

117. The report of M. Doctor Dorington of that which happened at Warbois, on Tuesday which was the Sessions day at Huntington, the 9 of Ianuary.

118. About twelve of the clocke a little before dinner, Mary, Ione, and Grace, the daughters of Robert Throgmorton of Warbois aforesaid, Esquier, fell into their accustomed fits of lamenesse, blindnesse, deafnesse, and want of feeling, only their yoongest brother Robert of the age of nine yeres, might speake unto Iane with her understanding, and she only might speak in the like manner to Marie and Grace.

119. Immediately after dinner their uncle M. doctor Dorington parson of Warbois, comming to see the with a scholler of Cambridge, found them all three in their fits, which seemed not so greeuous at that time as merrie and pleasant, repeating oftentimes these words, ech one of the: I am glad, I am glad, none so glad as I.  The said M. doctor their uncle, willed their brother to aske the wherfore they were so glad.  Iane answered him, we shal know within these two howers good newes, stil wishing that two howers were spent, the two other sisters affirmed the same.  Mary and Iane whispering secretly one in the others care, spake thus much in our hearing oftentimes: I marvell how she should know that thing, I am sure none of this house told her, and therefore it cannot be but that the spirits told her.  The said Robert was willed again by his uncle doctor to aske of Iane, and Iane to aske of Mary and Grace, when they should come foorth of this fit, they all answered, Now by and by, and then we shall go well al of us into the hall, out of this parlor, and thence returning quickly y hither againe, we shall presently enter into another fitt like unto this, and then you shall heare newes, for by that time the two howers will be almost spent: yet after we haue told the newes we shall haue a paying fit, but it shall be short.  All these thinges foretold, prooued most true, fur they came out of their fit perfectly well, they did arise off from their stooles themselues, and all three of them went first out of the great Parlor into an inward lesse Parlor, to see how their mother did then being not well at case, and keeping her bed.  Presently they went from this into the hall, to see their sister Elizabeth then sitting by the fire, and being there, they were willed by one of their kinswomen in the house, not to returne any more into the sayd parlour, but notwithstanding that counsell, they would needes go all three into the parlour.  They were no sooner entred into the sayd place, but euerie one of them fell into their former fits, lame, blinde, and deafe, insomuch as they must needes be carried to their stooles by the fire side : where being once placed, they beganne to repeate again, I am glad, I am glad, none so glad as I, and being demanded why, they answered all three that Agnes Samuell should be brought to their fathers house from Huntington, and they should not heare Agnes Samuell as they did her mother, in their firts because their father should not trouble her with any mo questions, and so the spirit telleth them.  These words uttred they all severally, being asked one after the other, and then they all togither fel presently into extreame fits, of bowing their bodies, their heads and feete almost meeting togither, their bellies being highest with great groning.  But this endured not long (thankes be to God,) then rubbing their eyes twise or thrice, they seemed as waking out of a sleep, and so became perfectly well as euer before, Iane uttering these wordes to the spirit, which as it should seem should say, we are gone: then mistresse Iane answered, farewell and be hanged.  Their uncle Doctor there present with the rest, giuing thanks to God, asked them all how they did, and they said very well we thanke God, againe being asked how they felt themselues all this time of two houres past, they said y they had bin in a sleep.  He asked them further, if they had dined, which thing he knew they had done, for he found them al at dinner mery and pleasant, yet they answered, they had not dined, and yet they had no stomackes.

120. After  Agnes Samuel was brought to maister Throgmortons house, the children continued for three or foure dayes without anie fittes at all, so that their parentes were put in great comfort that their children should then haue bene cleane deliuered from their torments: but it should seeme, that the matter was not yet brought to an end, for the children fell all of them a fresh into their fits againe, and were as greeuously afflicted as ever they were in the olde womans time, and then the spirits did begin, as plainly to accuse the daughter as ever they did the mother, and do tell the children that the old woman hath set over her spirits to her daughter, and that she hath bewitched them al over againe, and that she will deale worse with them then ever her mother did. The children in their fits carried the same mind to the daughter and to her spirits, as they did to the mother before, saying that they cared not for any thing, that any of them all could do unto them, for their trust was in God, and he would deliuer them out of her handes (they sayd;) many very straunge things fell out amongst them in one moneth next after, which because they were not perticularly committed to writing, they are therefore here omitted.

121. Some after, the maid was thus brought as you here, to continue at M. Throgmortons house: mistresse Ioane the eldest daughter of the said M. Throgmorton, was brought home likewise fro Tichmarsh groue, where we left her, to Warbois to her fathers house, and if it should perticularly be declared how she was dealth withall for the time she there continued, it wold ad another third part unto this booke, & you wold think also that y matters which could be spoken of her, would be nothing superfluous: but to let al that passe, let us come unto this present matter, as it was perticularly obserued at Warbos.

122. Upon Friday which was the 9. of February 1592, Mistresse Ioane the eldest daughter of the said M. Throgmorto, fel into hir fit as usually before she had done, & complained of great paine in her legs, which had bin sore 9. or 10. weekes before that, namely, the most part of y time, while she continued at Tichmarsh grove, with her uncle M. Gilbert Pickering.  But after she returned home to her sisters, she grew much worse in her legs the before, and for y space of a ful fortnight before this day, her legs were so ful of ache & paine, that she could neither walke nor sit, but only lye either upon her bed, or els upon cushions by the fire side.  Cotinuing thus in her fit all that day, towards night the spirit came unto her, & she talked very familiarly with it, as her commo custom was, demanding of it from whence it came, and what newes it brought, speaking very disdainfully to it.  The thing answered, that it would not tell her from whence it came, but this was the newes it brought, that she should have verie extreame fits hereafter, and be worse handled than euer she was : saying that shee should now haue her fits, being in perfect memory, and hauing al her senses.  She answered, that she neither feared nor cared for him, for God she said was on her side, and would protect her from him, so the thing departed without any further talke, and she continued in her fit, the most part of that night untill she went to bed.

123. The next day, which was Saterday, the tenth of February, for it would be too long to speake of euerie perticular houre, although almost euerie houre brought varietie with it, in the afternoone as she laie groning in her fit by the fire side, shee fell suddenly into bleeding at the nose, and bleed verie much, wheret she marvelled (for she did perceive it) saying, I pray God send me good newes after this, for it is straunge with me to bleede, I bled not not so much this seuen yeares before, when shee had much bloudied her handkercheffe, she sayd that it was a good deed to throw the handkercheffe into the fire and burne the Witch, for she knew she sayd, that this bleeding came of no good cause. After she had talked thus to her selfe a little, it should seeme the spirit came to her: for she sayd thus smiling to her selfe, and casting her eyes about her, what is this in Gods name, that cometh thus tumbling to me? It tumbleth lyke a football, I thinke it be some puppit-plaier, it is much like his dames old thrumd cappe. What is your name I pray you sayd shee? The thing answered (as it should seeme) that his name was Blew. For presently uppon the question demaunded of his dame, she made answere againe her selfe saying: Maister Blew you are welcome, I never saw you before, I thought sayd shee, that my nose bledde not for nothing, what newes haue you brought? It tolde her as before. What doest thou say saith shee, that I shall be worse handeled then euer I was? Ha: saith shee, what doest thou say?  (For shee would ever repeate the spirits wordes after him as they all would do, when they were talking with them, bending their heades to the grounde) that I shall now have my fittes, when I shall both heare, see, and know everie bodie, that is a new tricke indeed, I thinke neuer any of my sisters were so used, but I care not for you (said she) do your worst. And when you have done, you will make an end, these were her verie words.

124. Then was she silent a while, yet seemed to listen to something that the spirit did say, and presently called for Agnes Samuel, and asked where she was, saying y she had but too much libertie, and that she must be more straightly looked unto, for of late (said she) she was in y kitchin chamber talking with her spirits (for so maister Blew had told her) and intreated him not to let me haue any such extreme fits, when I should both speake, heare, & know euery body.  But he answered, that he would torment me in y sort, and not giue ouer until he had brought his dame, meaning Agnes Samuell, unto her end.  So that now, saith mistres Ioane to her (for by that time she was called into the place to her) you haue spun a faire thread: you diuels (for so then she called them) wil be no longer at your commandement: it will be no better with us, said she, untill you & your mother be both hanged.  The mayd standing by and hearing this, confessed indeed that she was in the kitchin chamber and alone: but she denied that she talked with any spirits, nor yet knew of any such thinges.  Mistresse Ioane hearing her say so: willed her not to denie it, for it was surely so, she thought, saying, that she knew the spirits would not lye to her.  Soone after, she came out of this fit, and greatly complained of paine in her legges, and being presently demanded where she had bene, and what she had said.  She answered that she had bene a sleepe, and had said nothing that she knew of, marvelling much how her handkerchiffe which she had in her hand, should come to be so bloudie, for said she, it was not so eue now, & I am sure that I use not to bleed: I beleeue said she, some bodie tooke it from me, and bloudied it & hath giuen me it againe, (for this is the same handkerchiffe I had euen now, with many such like speeches.

125. At night presently, on her father and mothers rising from supper, she fell into the fit which before M. Blue had threatened her, for she was most greeuously wroong & twitched in everie part of her body, somtimes she wold thrust forth her armes so straight, and so stiffe, that it was not possible to bow them: sometimes againe, she would so wrest and writhe them cleane backwards as that no man or woman were able to do the like, by their naturall strength, she her selfe crying out very pitifully, sometimes of her stomacke, saying that she was very sick, and offered to vomit, sometimes of her head, and other whiles of her belly, and neuer a part or member of her, was free from extreame pain, she her selfe ever calling upon God to thinke upon her, and deliuer her. Somtimes it would so stop her breath, and hold it so long, that when she could recouer it againe, she fetched a marvellous deepe and loud grone. And being oftentimes asked in this fit by diuers that stood by how she did, she made answere, that she was marvellous sicke and full of paine, affirming that she both heard and saw, all that were present. In this wofull case she continued the space of halfe an houre and more, to the great greefe of the beholders, (for this is one of the first fits, that either she or her sisters had, having their perfect senses.) Now on the suddain as she was thus complaining, shee fell into her senselesse fit, having her mouth also shut up, and now she is deprived of all maner of sence againe. Remaining thus quietly a litle space, she fetched a great groane, whereupon her mouth was opened, and she spake saying: Here is a rule indeede, I perceive that you are as good as your word with me, from whence come you now, and what newes do you bring now I pray you? The thing answered, that she must be yet worse handled then all this commeth unto. Saith she, God is above the diuell, and do what you can, for you shall not be able to hurt me. But tell me, why do you punish me worse then all my sisters, hauing my fits when I can know euerie bodie?  The thing answered, because she told tales of their dame: who is your dame (saith she?) he answered Nan Samuell. And this you must understand, in all their maner of talking together, that the children would first repeate the spirits answere, before they would aske any further questio of them. The said she, if Nan Samuel be your dame, I will tell more tales of her yet, and I hope to tell such a tale of her one day, that she shall not be able to answere it, nor you for her. The thing answered, that he would then punish her the more for it. She said that she cared not for that. Then said the thing, when was Smacke with you?  (This Smacke was an other of the spirits names.) Saith she, I know no such felow as Smack is, yes saith the thing,that you do: and he it is that telleth you all these thinges, but I will course him for it. Saith she, do your worst to him or to me, for I care not for you. Farewell, saith the thing. Do you bid me farewell, saith she? fare you wel & be hanged (for you shal haue the truth as she spoke it) & come again saith she when you are sent for.  Soone after this she came forth of her fit and was very sick, and full of pain in her legs.  The next day which was the Sabboth, she was reasonable well all the forenoone, as she was all other dayes, but her greatest panges & fits were alwaies towards night.  And thus leauing her until night, you shal heare what happened, the same day, amongst others of her sisters.  Soone after dinner was ended, there came unto the house one maister Throgmorton of Brampton, to see how these children did, & staying in the parlor a little while, one of these children, mistresse Elizabeth by name, as she was comming in at the parlor doore, fell sodenly into her fit in the sight of them all, which was not strange to any, but to the gentleman (because it was an usual thing with her.) Cotinuing thus a little space, M. Throgmorton the childes father, said to the other M. Throgmorton his kinsman, will you see cosin saith he, a wonder? Saith the gentleman, haue you any greater wonders the to see this sight?  Saith the childes father, I haue as great, for you shall se this childe brought out of this case wherin now you see her, at the pronouncing of certain words by a mayd in this house.  Saith the gentleman, I would faine see that, for i am sorie to see this signt.  So the childes father called for Agnes Samuel, and willed her to say to the childe these wordes, I charge thee diuell in the name of the God of heaven and earth as I hate thee, an am no Witch, nor guiltie of this matter, that thou depart from this childe, and suffer her to come forth of her fit.  This said by the mayd, the childe moued not.  Then the childes father willed her to say thus, I charge thee thou diuell, as I loue thee, and haue authoritie ouer thee, and am a Witch, and guiltie of this matter, that thou suffer this childe to be well at this present.  These words were no sooner ended, but the childe wiped her eyes, and was as well as any in the parlour.  As the gentleman was thus wondring and talking with this maid about the matter, saying that she could tel a prettie tale for her selfe, another of those children mistresse Iane standing by fell presently into her fit, and the same experience was made by her, as was made by her sister before.  And this was verie usuall amongst them, for it had bene proued diuers times, and was foretold by the spirit to one of them being in her fit, (a fortnight before this time:) that whensoever Agnes Samuell should say these words, they should be presently well.

126. To returne to mistresse Ioane, who was very sick & ful of pain all that day, & when night came, presently after supper fell into the same maner of fit, which she had the night before, for she was most greeuously twitched, wrong, & tormented in euery part of her body, hauing her perfect sences, for she was able to see, heare, and understand, euery thing that was asked of her, & this kind of fit continuing some certain space, she fell on the suddaine into a senslesse fit: and being silent a while, hauing her mouth shut up, she fetched a great groane, and said, from whence come you M. Smacke, and what newes do you bring? The spirit answered, that he came from fighting.  From fighting saith she, with who, I pray you? The spirit answered with Pluck, (which was an other of the spirits names.)  Where did you fight I pray you said she? The spirit answered in his old dames backhouse, which is an old house standing in mother Samuels yarde, and they fought with great cowlstraves, this last night.  And who got the maistry I pray you said she?  He answered that he broke Plucks heard.  Saith she, I would that he had broke your neck also.  Saith the spirit, is that all the thanke that I shall haue for my labour? Why saith she, do you looke for thanks at my hands?  I would you were all hanged up one against another, and your dame and all, for you are all nought, but it is no matter saith she, I do not well to curse you, for God I trust wil defend me from you all.  So he departed and had her farewell.  And being asked by her when he would come againe, he said on Wednesday at night, he was no sooner gone, but presently came Pluck to her.  For she said, from whence come you Pluck, with your head hanging downe in that sort.  So he answered her in all respects, according as Smacke before had told her.  Then said the spirit to her, when saw you Smack.  She answered, that shee knew no such fellow.  He said, yes that shee did, but shee wold not be to know of him.  It shuld seem said she, that you haue met with your match, & with diuers such like speeches betwixt the he departed.  And she soon after came out of her fit, but was very il, & coplained of paine in her legs.  The next day being munday, she was verie sicke all the day, and in the afternoone she fell into a marvellous extreame fit having perfect sense, for the space of halfe an houre or more.  Agnes Samuel standing by, and seeing the extremitie thereof, seemed to pray with others verie heartily for her: for the greevousnesse of that sight would haue moved anie stony heart in the world to pittie.  And being asked of the matter, what she thought of it, and whether it was wantonnesse or not, as she had oftentimes said before, she came to the house (as wel as her mother had done) but now she could not deny, but that it was some supernaturall worke in the patient.  Notwithstanding as may be thought, she that was thus tormented, neuer once conceiued an evill thought against her, all the time that she had her perfect sences: this kind of fit ended she was well excepting the paine in her legs.  After supper, so soone as her parents were risen with the rest, she fell into the same fit againe having her sences, and within halfe an houre, she was on the sodaine snatched into her sencelesse fit, and presently she had her mouth opened, & said, will this geare neuer be left?  I hope it wilbe better one day with you, from whence come you now Catch (saith she) limping in that sort? I hope you haue met with your match.  Catch answered, that Smacke and he had bene fighting, and that Smack had broken his leg.  Said she, that Smacke is a shrewd fellow belike, I would I could once see him.  Pluck came yesternight (said she) with his head broken, and now he hath broken your leg, I hope said she, that he will breake both your necks before he haue done with you.  Catch answered, that he would be euen with him before he had done.  Then said she, put forth your other leg, let me see if I can breake that also, for she had a sticke in her hand, the spirit told her that she could not hit him.  Can I not hit you said she? let me try.  Then the spirit as it should seeme, put out his leg, for she lifted up her sticke easily, and sodainly gaue a great stroake on the grounde.  You haue not hurt me said the spirit.  Have I not hurt you sayd she?  no, but I would if I could, for then would I make some of you come short home.  So she seemed diuers times to strike at the spirit, but he leaped over y stick as she said, as if it had bin a Jacke of Apes.  So after many such toyes used betwixt them, the spirit departed, & she came forth of her fit, continuing all that night and the next day very sick, and full of pain in her legs.  At night when supper was ended she fell into her sensible fit againe, and continuing therein halfe an hower, she fell into another kind of fit which is common to her & the rest of her sisters, and resting so silent a little space, she fetched a great grone & said, Na sirrah, are you come now with your arme in a sling M. Blew? who hath met with you I pray? The spirit answered, You know wel ynough. Do I know (sayd she) well ynough? how should I know? Why (sayd the spirit) Smack and I were fighting, and he hath broken mine arme, sayd she, that smack is a stout fellow indeed belike, I hope he will breake all your neckes because you punish mee without a cause.  I would sayd she that I could once be acquainted with him.  We will be euen with him (sayeth Blew) one day.  Why sayd she, what will you do?  The spirit sayd, That they would all fall upon him and beat him.  Sayd she, Belike he careth not for you all, for he hath broken Plucks head, Catches legge, and your arme, now you haue something to do, you may go heale your arme.  Yea (said the spirit) whe mine arme is whole we will beat Smacke.  So for that night they parted, and she came out of her fit, complayning of many parts of her body, so as it should seeme that she was more hartie and better at ease while the spirit talked with her by farre, then she was when she came foorth of her fit, for she would greatly complaine of her legges all the day, and the most part of the night in like sort, so that she herselfe tooke little rest, and disquieted them that lay neere her.  The next day which was Wednesday, she was very ill, and when night came and supper was ended, she first fell into her sensible fit, and after that was ended, she fell into her sencelesse fit.  Anon, fetching a great sigh, she sayd, Who sent for you maister Smacke?  He made aunswere that he was come according to his promise which he made unto her on Sunday at night.  Belike sayd she, you will keepe promise, but I had rather that you would keepe you away, and come when I send for you: but what newes haue you brought?  I told you sayd he, that I had bene a fighting the last Sunday night, but I haue had many battels since.  Yea so it seemeth, saith she, for here was both Pluck, Catch, and Blew, and they all came maymed unto me.  Yea, sayd he, I have met with them all.  But I marvell, sayd she, that you could beat them, they are very great, and you are but a little one.  Said he, I am good ynough for two of the best of them together.  But sayd she, I can tell you newes.  What is that, sayd he? They will all at one time fall upon you and beat you.  He sayd, He cared not for that, he would beat two of the best of them.  And who shall beat the other two, said she?  for there is one that hath bene many times spoken of, and he carrieth the name of Hardname, for his name standeth upon eight letters, and euery letter standeth for a word, but what his name is we know not (onely Hardname.)  The spirit answered, that his cosine Smacks would helpe him to beat the other two.  There are also two other Smacks as you may read in the old womans confession.  What sayd she, shall your cosines Smacks helpe you?  What, is there kindred amongst diuels?  I neuer heard of that thing before, that the diuels were cosines.  God keepe me from that kindred.  Such like foolish talke they had together at that time.  In the end, the spirit sayd, You shall haue no moe such fittes as you have had.  No, sayd she, that is well, but you can do nothing but lie.  Why sayd he, will you not beleeue me?  No, sayd she, shall I beleeue the Diuell, who is the father of all lies?  But you shall find it true sayd he.  If I doe, then will I beleeue you, sayd she, but not before.  I pray God it be true, but whether it be true or not, I care not a rush for you.  No, sayd he, will you not thanke me?  Thanke you, sayd she, hang you and all your fellowes, for I will not beleeue you no father then I see you, neither doe I care for any of you all.

127. This Smacke hath oftentimes gone about to win her favour, making very faire promises to her that he would do any thing for her, if she would love him.  But it hath pleased God by the worke of his good spirit, that she hath alwaies withstood him, denying him and defying him to the uttermost, wishing all evil to light upon him and his fellowes, for so tormenting her and her sisters without cause, alwaies desiring the assistace of Gods holy spirit to preserue her & her sisters from such temptations.  In the end, she said, You have told me many times that I should scratch Agnes Samuell, tell me now, when shall I scratch her?  The spirit answered, that she should scratch her before the Assises.  What said she, shal she stad before y iudges with a scratcht face? Yea, said the spirit, so it should be.  She answered, that she would set it on whensoeuer she did it: and said she, looke that you be as good as your word in this matter, for I would fain scratch her, for whatsoeuer the matter is, said she, I cannot abide her now adaies, and I am sick when I looke on her, (and so indeed she was) for shee would not suffer her willingly to stay in her companie when she was out of her fit: and being asked the cause why, she sayd shee could not tell, for she did beare her no malice nor grudge in the world, neither did she giue her any euill words, yet she said, she loathed her companie.  In the parting, the spirit told her that she shuld have no mo fits after y Assises.  No, said she, I am very glad of that.  But said the spirit, if you haue then, wo be to Agnes Samuell, for I will bring her to her end.  And thus the spirit left her, not saying any thing of his returne, and shee presently came out of her fit, and was much better then ordinarily she used to be, and the next day she was able to go very well on her legges, whereof she had no use a whole moneth before.

128. On Munday next following, which was the twentith of Februarie after supper, she began to talke againe, having bene in her fit an hower or more before, for she had eate her supper in her fit, with two other also of her sisters that were in their fits. On the sudden she said, What, are you come now? I had thought you would have come no more, and that we would have bene wel rid of you; but where have you bene, said she? He answered, that his cosine Smacke and he, had bene fighting with Pluck & Catch, and they had beaten them both very much, so that they dare not come to her any more. So they had very much talke about fighting and such other matters, which before are set downe. In the end she asked when she should scratch Agnes Samuell. The spirit answered, that if she would now scratch her, then her face would be whole before the Assises, which must not be. So she willed him to looke to that which he promised, for she would keepe her nails for her. Yea, saith the spirit, & she was also cosenting to the death of the Lady Crumwel. What saith mistresse Ioane, was she also consenting to the death of Lady Crumwel? even like ynough, I thought so, saith she. Yea, saith the spirit, & to proue this to be true, whensoever any stranger shall come into the house, you shall fall into your fitte, and if then Agnes Samuell shall come unto you and say, As I am a Witch, and consenting to the death of Ladie Crumwell, so I charge thee to depart and to let her come foorth of her fit, you shall presently well.  So Mistresse Ioane repeated the same words after the spirit which were then set downe in writing. If it be so, sayth mistresse Ioane, why then I hope she shal be hanged at the assises as well as her mother, and that sir Henrie Crumwell will looke to that matter. In the shutting up of the talke, the spirit tolde her that she should have her fits upon the Assises day, and all manner of fits which at any time she ever had, but after the Assises day she should have no mo fits, but if she had, then wo be to Agnes Samuell. for then (sayth the spirit) I will make her pay for it

129. Upon Fryday following when supper was ended, she fell into her talking fit againe, hauing had a very solemne fitte an hower before that time.  On the suddaine she sayd, Smacke where haue you bene all this time? and how chaunce I talked not with you hauing bene in my fittes diuers times of late?  Sayth Smacke, I was not at home, but now I bring you good newes.  What is that, sayd she?  The spirit sayd, You shall haue no moe fits untill this day seuen-night, if you will arise betimes to morrow morning, otherwise if you do not, you shall haue your fit in the monring, which shall continue all the day to your trouble.  Then sayd she, If rising early will preuent my fit, I will God willing, get up betimes to morrow morning; which indeed she did, and escaped her fit that day.  Then she demaunded why she should haue no mo fits that weeke.  The spirit answered, that Agnes Samuell intreated him that you should haue no mo fits, euen as I loved her: but sayd he, I love her not, yet you shal haue no mo fits this weeke, except some strangers come, if you will arise to morrow betimes.  And why, sayd she, must I haue my fits if strangers come?  The spirit answered, To bring her to shame.  But when did you talke with her, sayd she? Euen now sayd the spirit in the Church chamber.  She will denie that, sayd mistresse Ioane, whe she is asked of it.  Yea, said the spirit, so it standeth her in hand: and you must haue one whole week of very sick fits, said the spirit, before the Assises.  Must I, said she, for whole soule?  Agnes Samuell will haue it so, sayd the spirit.  Let me know, said she, when that day shall be.  You shall know this day sennight said he, and in what sort likewise your fit shall be.  Before they parted, the spirit asked how her legs did.  She sayd, well thanks be to Gd, why do you ask?  He said, because he was glad of it.  Be glad for your selfe said she, and be not glad for me, for I will neuer thanke you for it, neither doe I passe for you a rush, for God I trust will deliuer me in despight of you.  So for that time he departed, and she came out of her fit and was very well, and so continued all the next day, arising betimes in the morning.  On Sunday following, being the 25 of Februarie, M. Throgmorton of Brampton who was the first stranger y came next to the house (and is before named,) within one half hower after his coming, mistresse Ioane fel into her fit, & had not long so cotinued, but Smack came to her, to whom she said, How chanceth it that I haue my fit now, and you promised that I should not haue it before Fryday next: He said, that she knew wel ynough.  She said, she did not: the next: He said, that she knew wel ynough.  She said, she did not: the he told her that strangers were come, and now she must haue her fit to proove Agnes Samuel a witch.  Amongst other talke, the spirit told her againe, that there was a very sore weeke of sicke fits to come ere it be long.  She sayd, she cared not for it, for she hoped that God would stand with her then, as well as he had done hitherto.  As she sat thus in her fit talking with Smacke, one of her sisters sat by her, (being in a very quiet fit also) on the sudden she sayd: Sister Ioane (for so was the childs name that sate by her) the thing telleth me that you shall haue a very sore fit by and by.  The words were no sooner ended, but her sister fell into a marvellous sicke and troublesome fit, swelling and heauing in her body, groning and crying out as their maner was.  Then M. Throg. the childs father called for Agnes Samuel, & willed her to hold the child, for saidhe, I think you are best worthie to haue the trouble of it.  After the child had ben in her arms strugling & very troublesome a certaine space, her sister that before had foretold of the sicke fit she had, spake, saying, Be of good comfort sister Iane, for the thing telleth me that the worst is past, & you shall be well by and by: for the thing saith that Nan Samuell is werie withholding of you, & therfore you shal be well, which presently proued true, for her troublesome fit then ended, & she continued in a very quiet fit as before.  Presently, upon this M. Throg. the childs father, told the other M. Throg. his cosine, what words his daughters Ioane before had spoken, namely, that when any strangers came, she should thereupon fall into her fit, and then if Nan Samuell should speake such and such words, she should come foorth of her fit to prooue her a Witch.  M. Throgmorton the stranger earnestly desired to make proofe thereof.  So the childs father bad Nan Samuell say after him, Even as I am a witch, and consented to the death of the Lady Crumwel, so I charge thee spirit to depart, and to let her be well.  The mayd  began to speake them, but eyther she could not, or else she would not speake them playne, but she would alwayes say, Consenting to our death of our Ladie Crumwell; and she would not after three or foure times repeating over, speake the words plaine: so that she that was in her fit sayd, Here is something telleth me, that she will not speake them aright.  In the end after much adoe she spake them, and presently she came out of her fit, and was very well.  The same words were used to another of them that then was in her fit, & prevailed as well with her as with her sister.  The next day at dinner mistresse Elizabeth being in her fit, was pointed unto to say grace, & when she had halfe gone through it, presently her mouth was shut up that she could not finish it.  Then M. Throg. called for Nan Samuell, and willed her to charge the spirit to open her mouth againe, that she might finish her grace, which the maid did, and the child went through her grace, to the end of it.  And this you should have seene in common use amongst them, that if three or four of them had stood together readie to say grace, you should haue seene them all taken suddainly in their fits one after the other as they had begun to speake, or at the furthest before they had spoken two lines, & their mouths also shut up, that they could not speake at al.  Then M. Throg. laboured to teach Agnes Samuell a grace of two or three lines, but he could by no meanes get her to learne it by heart, although he caused his children to teach it her diuers times in a day.  On Thursday following which was the first of March, mistresse Mary, who had bene well and without any fits euer since the Sessions day last at Huntington, was something euill at ease all the morning, and about nine of the clocke fell into a maruellous great quaking & trembling, and could not hold a ioynt of her, yet knew no cause why.  Soone after she was taken and fell into a maruellous troublesome fit, continuing therein about halfe an hower: in the end she waxed a little better, and said, Is it true?  do you say, This is the day wherein I must scratch the yoong witch?  I am hartilie glad of it, for I will surely pay her home, both for my selfe and my sisters.  Maister Edward Pickering and M. Henrie Pickering, two of the childs uncles standing by, which diuers others caused the maide to be brought up into the chmber where the child was, to see what would be the issue of it, knowing very well that the mayde was able to keepe her selfe from scratching, if three such as the child was should set upon her at once.  So soone as the maid came into the chamber where the child was, the child sayd, Art thou come thou yoong Witch, who hast done all this mischiefe?  The mayd seemed to stand amazed at those words, for she was not accustomed to heare any such hard speeches from the child.  So one in the companie willed the mayd to take up the child and carrie her down (for her legges were taken from her.)  Mistresse Mary suffered her selfe very quietly to be taken up in her armes, and clasped her hands about her necke, but euen as the maid began to lift up, she fell on scratching of her so eagerly and so fiercely, as that it was a woonder to all that saw it, saying, I wil scratch you, you yoong witch, and pay you home for thus punishing of me and my sisters: the thing telleth me, that I had bene well, and neuer should have had my fits any more but for you.  The mayde stood still holding down her head (for the child keeled upon her knees) and cried very pittifully, yet either would not, or could not once pluck away her head.  Nay said the child, I know you crie, but the spirit sayd that I should not heare you, because I should not pittie you, and he is that holdeth you now that you cannot get away from me.  So the child scratched her face untill the skinne came of, the breadth of a shiling, but there came no blood at all but water.  In the end the mayd brought her downe into the Parlor, where the child sitting a while in her stoole, seemed to be woonderfull sorie for that she had done, and sayd, I would not haue scratched Nan Samuell, but the thing told mee that I should doe it, and forced me there unto, stretching forth mine armes, and strayning my fingers whether I would or not, and made me to scratch her.  And truly they that saw the manner of it, and knew the mild disposition of the child, might castly see that she was overruled in the action, for she was carried with such vehemencie and crueltie for the time, against the maid, as that it appeared to be altogether besides her nature.  The child continued in her fit till an hower after dinner, & then being asked of these matters, was altogether ignorant of any such thing, and would not beleeve it, but whe she saw the example in the maids face, & being told that she had done it, she brake into teares, and was maruellous sorie to see it.  The next day, being Friday, mistresse Mary was in the very mild and solemn fit all the morning, and a little before dinner she said to her selfe and her sisters that were also in their fits: I am glad and maruellous glad, but she wold not tel the cause why.  Presently she sayd to the thing that stood by her, But I know you wil lie to me as you haue oftertimes done.  Nay, said the thing.  I use not to lie.  No do, said she, who are you I pray you?  The thing answered, Smacke.  What said she, are you that Smack that useth to come to my sister Ioane, & telleth her so many things?  Yea, said he, saying further that he neuer told her sister Ioane any lie hitherto, neyther was this a lie that he told her.  Then mistresse Mary declared to her sisters, being all in their fits, that which Smacke had told her, which was, that after diner she should come of her fit, & neuer more haue any fit, bicause she had scratched Agnes Samuel So her sisters wished that Smacke would come to them, and tell them the same.  So after dinner she came foorth of her fit, as she sayd, and neuer had more fits afterward from that day to this (thanks be to God.)  The very same day being the 2 of February mistresse Ioane fel in the morning into her fit, & being in her bed, it should seeme y Smack had bin with her, & had told her somthing as afterward she did declare to her sisters, being in their fits: for she said, I wil get up and go down, & tell some newes.  When she was come down into y parlor, & had sate by y fire some litle space, she spake on the suddain to something y stood by her, saying: I wil not vouchsafe to looke on you, for you neuer come but you bring some ill news with you, for I was sick y last time you were here, and I maruel who sent for you now?  The thing answered her, You were sick in deed the last time I was here, but now you shal be much worse.  Why do your worst said she, for I passe not for you (seeming to speak very angerly to him) for God, said she, will preserue me, I feare you not.  I maruell said she how your legge both?  I thinke Smacke spoke with you when he brake your leg, Yea said he, I pray you do not tel Smack that I was here: do you pray me? said she, I do not know that Smack, but if I did, I wold surely tell him, that he might breake your necke also.  The thing answered, yes you know him well inough, for you made him break my leg, but I would not for any thing, that he should know that I was here said y thing, but I wil make you paie for all this weeke that commeth in.  Will you? saith she, I will laye with you what you wil, that I shal not be sick this week if I list, for one thing that I know.  Yea saith he.  I knowe very well that Smacke was with you this morning, but do both of you what you can, you shal haue a sicke weeke of it, & that you shal find, fo you shalbe so sicke this next weeke, that your body shalbe sore al the next weeke after, for I wil course you, aswel as Smacke hath coursed me.  Why said she, do you reuenge your selfe upon me and not upon Smacke? He said that he durst not deale with him, for he was too hard for him.

130. After a little silence betwixt them, she asked her sisters, that were likewise in their fittes, if they did not see Catche who talked with her euen now?  They answered no Why then sayd she, belike he is gone, for neither do I see him, then shee begunne to talke verie softly with them, as if no bodie should heare them, saying, that Smacke was with her in the monring when shee was in her bedde, and told her that this next weeke will be a maruellous sicke weeke to her, which he could not helpe, but he did so beate Plucke as he told me, that he wil neuer come at me againe, and if euer he commeth againe, then he saith he will kill him: but he said to me, if you will goe to some friendes house, and staie there all the weeke, then you shall be well, and escape this sicke weeke: but I tolde him sayd she, that I had no friends house to go unto, nor to none I would go to, do he what he wold, then he willed me to go to Sommersom (which is a town two miles from Warbois) where somtimes she hath bin, with an uncle of hers, since her first visitation in this sort, & bin very well, but I marue said she, how he knoweth Sommersom, I thinke he knoweth all the Countrey over, but I tolde him that I would not once stirre my foote out of the doore for him, do he what he could.  Then her sisters asked whe Smack would come again.  She said, that he told her, that he would come soone at night after supper.  In the meane time certaine strangers came in, who were desirous to see her out of her fit, which was done by the charge of Agnes Samuel.  Namely, as she was a Witch & consented to the death of the Lady Crumwell, &c.  At night a litle before supper she fell into her it again, & so continued til supper was ended.  When the companie were risen from the boord, and set by the fire, Smack came to her againe, and talked with her about those fits, which she should have the next weeke, saying that he could not do withall, except she would go from home.  She said that she would not, and therfore willed him to do his worst.   Then said he, when was Catch with you? She told him y Catch was there to day, & threatned to punish her y next week with wonderful sick fits, because he said, y I had caused you to breake his leg, but I hope said she, that you wil break his neck also, & some body will break yours, for you are all nought.  Smack answered, that he would course Catchfor it, & warrant her that he would neuer come again to her when he had done with him.  Then said she, tell me when shall my fits begin, & when shal they end?  He said, y on muday next in y morning they must begin, & end that day sennight in y morning.  You will haue a whole week belike (said she) yea said he, it must be so, & you shal be sore in your body y next weeke after.  On Saterday which was the next day, she had diuers fittes, and was brought out of them by Agnes Samuels charge, and so likewise on the Sunday.  When Munday came which was the day appointed for y beginning of these troublesome fits, it kept promise with her, for in the morning she wared marvellous sicke & euill at ease, hauing her perfect sences, as it was also foretold that she should haue, and so continued all the weeke: the manner whereof, hereafter shall be declared, because certain accidents worthy the remembrance befell some other of her sisters in this weeke, which shall first haue their place.

131. Mistresse Elizabeth one of these children and before spoken of, was all this week troubled with very sodaine and extraordinary fits, for she was twitched and wroong in her body more greeuously this weeke, then she was many moneths before, which violent passions in her, made us coniecture, that there was some extraordinary matter in working: for it could not be that such violence should continue long, for if it had, it could not but haue cost her her life.  And to passe ouer manie matters of strangenesse, which befell in that weeke, we will come to Saterday, which was the tenth of March: on which day as this child sate at supper, it should seeme by the manifold signes she made with her handes and head, and by her humming with her voyce, that she would faine haue spoken to something that stood on the table, but she could not, her mouth was shut up.  Then she began to lament maruellous bitterly a good space, yet could not declare her greefe.  Soone after, shee fell into a most troublesome fit, which would not suffer her to sit on her stoole.  Then the mayd Agnes Samuell, was willed to hold her, which shee did: and after a while she beganne to growe more quiet.  And an other of her sisters younger then she, Grace by name, was more troubled than she was, so Nan Samuell let downe the one, and tooke up the other, and as she was holding this Mistresse Grace in her armes, the other child mistresse Elizabeth that sat hard by her, said on the sudden in a maruellous anger to her, now I can see the yong Witch which I could neuer do before since she came to the house in my fit.  The copany that sate at supper, thought that there was some extraordinary matter in working, that the child should call the yong maid Witch, for it was neuer heard by any body, that euer she gaue either her or her mother, any euill word before, either in her fit or out of her fit: presently she said to her, my sister Ioanes diuel told me euen now as I sate at supper, that I must scratch the yong Witch.  So soone as eue she had sayd so, she slipped from the bench whereon she sat, and fell upon her kees, for she was not able to stand, and caught the mayd by the hand that stood hard by her, holding of her sister, and scratched one of her handes most fiercely to see, with both her hands, and saying that it was she that had bewitched her and all her sisters, and she had bene well long since but for her.  O thou yong With, O tho yong Witch, fie upon thee, fie upon thee, who euer heard of a yong Witch before? and thus she cryed with such vehemencie of speech, and eagernesse of scratching, as that both her breath and strength fayled her.  When she had breathed a while, she fell upon her againe, and said that this was her sister Ioanes diuel who useth not to lye, that made her to scratch her, for said she, I would not haue scratched you, and it was full euil against my will to do it, but the diuel maketh me to scratch you, stretching forth mine armes, & bending my fingers, otherwise I would not do it, but I must do it, and so must all my sisters scratch you, though they be neuer so unwilling to do it, as my selfe now am, these words she uttered and many moe, to the like effect, in that time wherein she scratched her.  All this time the mayde held the other childe in her armes still, neuer once offering to plucke away her hand from her, but cried out verie pittifully, desiring the Lord to thinke uppon her.  Then did one that stood by, demaund of her, and willed her to speake her minde as she thought, whether the childe did scratch her of her owne will and desire or not.  She answered, that she thought she did not, nay saith she, I know she did not, and that it is no part of her will thus to scratch me.  The childe when she was weary the second time with scratching of her, on the suddaine put forth both her handes, and said looke you here, the diuell saith, that I must scratch her no more now, for my fingers are thrust foorth so straight, that I cannot bend them, and so it appeared that they were, for she held foorth her hand, and her fingers were verie straight and stiffe, then she rubbed her hand upon the maydes hand that bled a little, and wiped the bloud upon her owne hands, and this the childe did oftentimes, while she talked with her.  Presently uppon the scratching ended, the childe beganne to weepe, insomuch that many teares fell from her eyes, and cryed maruellous bitterly, and sayd to the mayd, I would not in any wise haue scratched you, but the diuell made me, and forced me whether I would or not, oh that you neuer had deserued to be thus used, and her maner of complaining was, as if she had committed some great offence.  When this weeping fit was something asswaged, she beganne to exhort her, lifting up her voyce with such vehemencie and desire for her amendment, as that we may verily thinke, the like was neuer heard to come forth of a childes mouth.  It is not possible to set downe all the wordes of exhortation she spake unto the mayd at that tyme, but these were some of them, and the verie wordes so neare as could be remembred.  Oh that thou hadst grace to repent thee of thy wickednesse, that thy soule might be saued: for thou hast forsaken thy God, and giuen thy selfe to the deuill.  Oh that thou diddest knowe what a precious thing thy soule was, thou woulst neuer then so lightly haue parted with it: thou hadst neede to pray night and day, to get Gods fauour againe, otherwise they soule shall be damned in hell fire for ever.  Thou doest oftentimes pray here at home, when we pray, and likewise at Church, but thou prayest in vaine, because thou prayest not with thy heart: but I will pray for thee with all mine heart, and I will forgive thee, and desire all my sisters, & all my friends to forgive thee, if tho wilst confesse thy fault, but thou hast an hard hart (sayd she) and the Devill holdeth thy hart and will not suffer thee to confesse it, but thou must confesse it whether thou wilt or no, when thy time is come.  But oh that thou wouldest nowe confesse it, that thy soule might bee saved.  These wordes when she used them (as she did often) she would three times at the least repeate them over, with such vehemency, as that it was straunge to heare, for she would never leave uttering of them so long as her breath would serve.  Then did she tell my sister Joanes devill standeth here before my face, and pointed with her finger to the place, and telleth me that in despight of thee thou shalt one day confesse it, or be hanged, we shal not be well: but if thou wouldest even now confesse it, we shall be presently well, defie now therefore the devill, and confesse it, that God may forgive thee, and that they soule may be saved.  If thou wouldest thinke (sayd she) of the torments of hell, and that thy soule must burned in hell fire, except thou doest confesse and repent, then thou wouldest not now stand so stifly in the deniall of it as thou doest: but thou art a wicked childe, and thou hast beene a Witch this foure or five yeares & more, thou hast done more hurt the to me and my sisters, for tho hast killed my Ladie Crumwell and moe.  The devill that standeth here telleth me so, and thou woulde it have killed my sister Joane in this her sick weeke, but God will not let thee, what a wicked hart hast thou that nothing will content thee but our death, thou, and thy father (sayde she) were the cause why thy mother did deny that, which she did once confesse, she was in a good way, and would neuer have gone from her wordes, had not you and your father bin, & if your mothers soule be damyned, you & your father must answere for it, with many such like speeches, for your mother (sayd she) had confessed a truth, and was sorry for her naughtinesse, every body had forgiven her, and would have prayed for her: oh that she had neuer gone home, that her soule might haue been saved, thy mother is a witch, thy father is a witch, and thou art a witch, but of all the three thou art the worst.  Thy mother would never have done so much hurt as she hath done, but for thee, and so the devill hath tolde me, thou wicked childe, thou art a wicked child, the Lord give thee grace to confesse, and to repent that thy soule may be saued.  Oh that they father were now here, for the devill now sayth, that I should scratch him also, he is a witch and a naughtie man, Oh that he were here, that he might heare me now speake to him.

132. Then two of the childes Uncles, M. John Pickering, and M. Henrie Pickering, being there present were intreated of the childes father to see if they could by any meanes, procure olde Samuell to come to the house, but it was thought by the companie to be a labour lost before they went, the man was of so churlish a nature, and alwayes so hardly drawne to the house: notwithstanding they went, and when they had gone twentie paces from the house, they did perceiue the same man to be cumming alone very fast towardes the house, so they agreed to passe by him in silence, to see whether he ment to goe, the man went directly to M. Throckmortons house, which they perceiving, followed him backe againe, and were as redie to goe into the house as he, when they were come into the hall, and were even at the doore readie to goe intot he parlor where the child and other companie were: the child sayd of her selfe, he is come, he is come, I will goe scratch him, so she pressed forwardes on her knees (for she had no use of her legges) towards the parlor doore as if she would go to him, yet this is most certaine, that she was the in such a place of the parlor as that she could not see any part of the hall, and therefore not the man.  Then M. Doctor Dorington being in presence, perceiuing the child so to goe on her knees, stayed her, and caused the man to be called into the parlor, when he came in, she still pressed to goe towardes him, and sayd I must scratch him, I must scratch him, on the suddaine she stopped sayin, I must not scratch him, looke you here & shewed her hands how her fingers were shut up close together, if he had beene here even now (sayth she) the devill sayth I should have scratched him, but now I must not.  Then M. Thockmorton the childes Father, demaunded of the man John Samuell, why he came to his house, he answered that one in the feld told him that his daughter was sicke and therefore he came.  Then Master Trockmorton and M. Doctor Dorington charged him to tell the truth wh o it was and not to lye, as hee would answere it, he answered that he would not tell them, notwithstanding they urged him, at length he sayd, that his brothers daughter came to his house and tolde him, that she saw M. Doctor Dorington and M. Throckmortons man come to this house together, and then he thinking that there was some thing to doe about his daughter, came therfore to see the matter, but this was thought of the companie to be no sufficient cause to bring him to the house, whereas before hee could not be gotten to come without a precept from the Justices.  The child continued still crying out upon him & sayde, that he was a naughtie man, and a witch, and but for him & his daughter, his wives soule might have beene saved, and therefore hee must answere for it before God one day, and so repeated over againe many of her speeches to him, which before she had said to his daughter exhorting him to prayers, and to aske God forgivenes.  The man was so rude in his behaviour, and so lowd in his speeches that the child could not be heard for him: His answeres to the child were, that she lyed, and so did all the companie in saying he was a witch, and he sayd that shee had beene taught her lessons well enough, and that she was above seven yeares olde (though indeede she was not twice seven) with many such like speeches, and would not be silent nor suffer the childe to speake for any thing untill he was almost forced unto it by the childes father, although he might perceiue very well, as also did all the company, that the childe could not heare him, nor answere to any of his speeches, either yet stayed her wordes at his talking, in any thing she intended to speake to him, although he greatly interrupted the same, if she could have heard him, but shee neither heard him nor anie other in the companie, yet she sawe him and his daughter, and not any other.  Towardes the end when the child had thus exhorted the father and the daughter for the space of an houre and an halfe, M. Throckmorton the childes father, tolde the man John Samuell, that his daughter Agnes, by a charge which she had, commanded the spirites to depart from his childen, & they had departed, hee therefore willed him to use the same wordes which his daughter before had used, to see what would come of it: he saide that he would not, neyther should any make him to speake them, and he would not be brought to it for any thing.  Then did Master Throckmorton tell him that seeing hee came to his house unsent for, he should not depart untill he had spoken them, so long as the childe continued in her fitte, if it were this weeke before she came foorth.  Then did M. Doctor Dorington (the rather to bring him on) speake the words before him, so did also two or three of his neighbours, honest men in the towne, that were then present and saw al these matters in the child, but this would not perswade the man, untill in the end, he perceyved that Master Throckmorton was resolute, not to suffer him to depart untill he had spoken them, then he begunne to speake them as he was taught by Master Throckmorton, the wordes were these, as I am a Witch, and consenting to the death of the Lady Crumwell, so I charge the spirite to depart from Mistres Elizabeth Throckmorton at this present, and to suffer her to be well, the man had no sooner spoken the words, but the child presently arose, and was very well, marueyling to see such companie there.  Then was the child asked if she knewe of any thing which she had done or sayd, and diuerse perticulers were named unto her, but she knew of no such thing, saying that shee had beene a sleepe, and was readie to weepe because they charged her with such things, so the company departed, and she went to bed being very well.

133. It now followeth to declare how mistres Ioane Throckmorton was handled in this present weeke past, which was that sicke weeke of sitters threatened to her before by the spirit.  On Sunday which was the day before, she was lightsome, and had no fit at all, saying that she was very well, yet no body would tell her of the sicke fits which was threatened to befall her the next day, so she went to bede very merrie and chearefull, saying that she ayled nothing at all, she thanked God: The next morning which was Munday, when she awakened there was found a great change in her head and stomacke, and that there was some thing under her sides, which did so twitch and wring her, that she could not fetch her breath. All that day, as likewise all that weeke following she was most straungly tormented, crying out of extreme payne in all her parts of her, her stomacke was taken from her, so that she eate all that weeke scarcely so much as might be thought sufficient to susteine nature, her legges were exceeding sore, and full of paine, having litle or no use of them all that weeke, her hands were continually colde, and benummed, but her greatest and continual paine lay in her head, which caused her to take marueilous unquiet rest, for she did nothing but cry and grone the most part of the nights throughout that weeke neither resting her selfe nor suffering any others to rest, that lay neere her: Now besides this generall and continuall paine in her body, she had divers fits euery day, and likewise in the night time, such as wherein no man that saw her, thought she should have escaped with her life: for she would lye upon her bed scriking and suddenly starting an houre togeather, and somtimes fower or five houres without any intermission, otherwiles shee woulde ly as one in a Sowne or Traunce holding her breath a quarter of an houre and sometimes longer, in such sorte as that it could neither be felt nor perceived that she breathed at all for the time, yet in the end she would arise up with her belly and fetch a marveilous deepe sigh, and a lowd doleful grone as if she had bene gasping for her last breath: And this kinde of fit was most usuall with her night and day, and would hold her the longest of any other, and alwaies the longer when any of her freinds or other company stoode by and comforted her, some times it would rise up into her head, and their resting a while, it would rayse up her body, and her head very strongly, untill almost she stoode upright, yet with such strength, as that it was not possible for any man to hold her downe.  In which fit she was desirous to have her head holden, otherwise she said that it would rine her head in sunder, and alwaies a little before she felt the fit comming, she would say hold, and all the while shee was in rising with her body, it would holde her breath, untill she came to the highest, and then would she fetch a great gone, and with a sudden downefall, settle her self in the chaire againe, and how soever all the weeke she was in this continuall daunger and had her life in her handes euery houre ready to yeelde it up, yet on Saturday all the day long, but especially in the night she was in the greatest hazard thereof, for then did her parents, & other that wished well unto her, thinke that she should never have seene the daylight: such and so many were her extreame fits and daungerous perplerities in that night, but it pleased God, a litle before morning to give her some better rest, and this was some good hope, and comfort that her parents and other her freindes had in respect in the safetie of her life, for that both she her selfe, and other also of her sisters had heretofore saide being in their fits, that Nan Samull would have had the Devill to kill her this weeke, as she hath done the Lady Crumwell but God wil not suffer him.  But in all these extremeities this is most certaine, that all the weeke long she had the perfect use of her sences as the spirit had told her that she should have, and was able to discerne one thing from an other, and to make answeare to any question that was asked at any time (except then when her breath was stopped and while she continued as one in a sowne,) but being asked afterwards if she then heard, she answered that she did alwaies heare, but she could not sometimes speake, because her breath was stopped.  And this was a thing noted in her that weeke, that she could neuer abide that Nan Samuell should abide in her company, or come into her sight or once to heare her named, yet she would say, that she could not tell for what cause it was, but it should seeme there was some secret matter in it, for whensoever, and how long soever, shee stayed with her she was alwaies the more strongly delt with all and the more greiuously troubled.

134. When the sennite was ended, and Munday morning came againe, she said that she felt her selfe reasonable well, and all that day she had no fit at all, onely she said, that she was very sore in her body & in her leggs, as if she had bene beaten with strockes.

135. All this weeke following she continued reasonable well, yet not without many fits and great sorenes in her legges, especially towards night as it was common with them all to be alwaies worst at night.

136. On Munday after that which was the 19. of March a little before supper she fell into her fit, and when supper was ended Smacke came unto her againe, to whom she presently said, I trust God will one day revenge me on you, and all your company, for thus punishing of me and my Sisters: why said he, had you a sicke weeke of it?  It is no matter to you said she: why I tolde you said he, that I could not helpe it, except you would have gone abroad to some friendes house, goe you saide she whether you will, and doe what you can, I will not once stur my foote out of doores for your pleasure, for I know you would kill me if you could, and you use all the meanes you can both to kill me and my Sisters, but I trust God will not give you leave & if he doth I am well contented withall, for I had rather be dead then to live in this continual paine, and not able to stand or goe: many moe such like speaches they had togeather; anon she saide, you have often times tolde me, that I should scratch the younge witch, before the Assises, now tell me when shall it be?  For I would faine scratch her, I cannot abide her now of late, whatsoever the matter is, I thinke God hath set my hart against her, for I cannot eate my meate, if she standeth before me, it so goeth against my stomacke, and yet I cannot tell wherefore, but tell me said she on what day shall I scratch her, he tolde her that she should scratch her two or three daies before the Assises, tell me said she, on which day shall it be?  For I will never beleeve you, he tolde her that it should bee on Munday before the Assisses which was that day fortnight: well said she, looke that it be, for I will keepe my nayles unpared for her, I will scratch on side for my self said she and the other for mine Aunte Pickering, this her Aunte is wife to M. Iohn Pickering of Ellington in the countie of Huntington, who was one of the twelve, that were bewitched, and hath beene most grieuously tormented with paine and breaking out in her legges, as that she is not able to goe, well saide mistres Ioane to Smacke, I will surely lay it an whensoever I scratch her, that all the world may see that she is a witch: Then said Smacke, they that thinke otherwise of her are deceiued, and that I will proue: Will you proue it? Said she, how will you proue it?  By compelling you to scratch her: will you compell me?  Said she, why then I will not scratch her: but you shall scratch her said he: so they had many wordes about it, in thend she saide that indeede she had a good will to scratch her, but yet she will not scratch her if she can otherwise choose, but Smacke saide that she must scratch her aswell as all her other Sisters had done and must doe, for there are yet two behind that must scratch her.  When they had ended their talke, she called for Agnes Samuell and said that she should not come forth of her fit, untill she had charged the spirit to departe, which the mayde did, and she was presently well.  Within two daies after.  Mistres Grace the youngest of all those five sisters, as she sat in the maides armes, in a very troublesome fit, on the suddaine fell on scratching of the maides hand, merveilous fiercely to see, but was not able to speake, her mouth was shut up: yet did she grone and weepe greatly as if she had bene doing of some thing against her will, but such was the childes short nayles and want of strength, that she could not once ripple the skinne of the backe of her hands.  Of this child there are not many things noted, because for the most part her mouth was shut up during the time of her fits, yet had she very many most grevious and troublesome fits: for she hath sit in a chaire, or on a stoole by the fire side, some times a whole day togeather, groning and weeping most lamentable to see, and was never cleare from her fits since the first beginning.

137. On the next Sabboth day which was the 25. of March at night when supper was ended, Mistresse Ioan fell into her fitte, as she had many fits that weeke, but Smacke never came unto her to talke untill now: So it should seeme that he talked with her a good while before she would eyther seeme to listen, or giue answere to him, yet it might easily be perceived by her countenance and gesture that some thing talked with her, for she wold turne away her face and shake her head, as if she liked not of it: on the suddaine she said goe too, if this be true that you say, let us see what you will doe.  So Mistresse Ioan called for her sister Elizabeth who was likewise in her fitte, & told her that Smack was come, and will now tell her many things, before Nan Sa. face: Smacke sayth she calleth her nothing but young Witch to beginne withall, belike he is angry with her: Therefore she called for Nan Samuell, and tolde her that she must be present and heare what Smacke will say to her, yet sayth she I cannot heare you, but I can see you: By and by she sayd Smacke saith that you must say these wordes, and I shall presently come forth of my fitte, but I shall fall into it againe, and shall have manie fittes to night, and come foorth of them againe at your speeches, the words which the maid must first speake were these: As I am a witch, and would have bewitched Mistris Ioan Throckmorton to death in her last weeke of great sicknesse, so I charge the spirite to depart and to suffer her to be well at this present: so soone as she had uttered them, Mistresse Ioan came presently out of her fitte and was well, and being readie to arise she suddenly fell down into her fitte againe, so resting a while she sayd to her, the thing sayth that you must say as I am a witch and have bewitched Mistres Pickering of Ellington since my mother hath confessed, so to charge the spirite to depart from me, and I shall be well, for the thing sayth (sayd she) that mine Aunt Pickering should have beene well before this time, had not you bewitched her againe since your mother confessed.  Alas good Aunt Pickering (sayd she) what harme have you done to any of them that they should use you in this sort, and with that she fell into bitter weeping for her, in so much that they that stoode by could not refraine from teares, when she had done weeping, she willed the mayde to use that charge, after which used she was well, but did not long so continue, for she was straight way in her fit againe: then sayd Mistresse Ioan to the mayde, the spirite sayth that you must say, as I would have bewitched her to death, as I wold have done in her last weeke of great sicknesse, so charge the spirite to depart from me, and I shall be well, and presently fall into my fitte againe, all which was then done, and presently found true: Then sayd Mistresse Ioan, the spirite sayth that you have bewitched all my sisters over againe, since your mother confessed, or else they had beene now well, and to proove this to be true you must charge the spirite to depart from me as you have bewitched them all severally, and I must have so many severall fittes, & come out of them at your severall charges, so the mayd begunne with them one after the other, saying, as I have bewitched Mistresse Marie Throckmorton since my mother confessed, so I charge the spirite to depart from you, and after her went to the rest of her sisters: so Mistresse Ioan had foure severall fittes, and came foorth of them at iiij.  Severall charges (concerning the bewitching of her sisters) which the mayde used to her.  Then sayd Mistres Ioan the spirite sayth that now I must also start and struggle, and be payned in my body as well as my sister Iane is, whensoever you (speaking to the mayde) shall name God, or Jesus Christ, or any good worke, although I cannot heare you, yet he doth heare you, and he will make me start.  Then M. Throckmorton, with others that were then in company, perceiuing the spirite to be willing to declare so many thinges of the mayde, willed her to charge the spirite in the name of God, to answere her to certaine questions, which she should aske it and not to lye, the mayde  gaue that charge to the spirite the spirite sayd to Mistresse Ioan, the young witch (for so he in all this talke and speech, hath called her) chargeth me to tell the truth in certain questions which she shall aske me: I said Mistresse Ioane, and see that you doe tell the truth, and not lye in any one thing, the spirite answered that he doth not use to tell so many lyes, as the young witch doth, which words Mistresse Ioane repeated over after the spirite.  Then sayde M. Throckmorton to the mayd, charge the spirite to tell you in what part of your bodie Mistresse Ioan shall scratch you, which the maide did, and the spirite said to Mistres Ioan, the young witch would know in what part of her bodie you shall scratch her: Yea sayd Mistresse Ioan, in what part of her body shall I scratch her, the spirit answered you shall scratch her on her face, the right cheeke for your self, and the left for your Aunt Pickering of Ellington, then sayd Mistresse Ioan, I will surely scratch the left cheeke well for mine Aunt if that will doe her any good, howsoever I do for my selfe: yea sayd the spirite do so, and the young witch were as good to take it patiently at the first, for you shall have your pennyworth of her before you have done: Then the mayd was willed to aske the spirite whether her mother would confesse at the Assisex, all that she hath alreadie confessed, the spirite sayde the young witch asketh &c. the answere which the spirite made to this question was, that the old witch would confesse all again at the Assises, if she had no evill counsell, and confesse also that this young witch her daughter, is a worse witch then her selfe, for sayd the spirite to Mistresse Ioane (which wordes she did in order repeate after the spirite) when the olde witch had bewitched the Lady Crumwell, and would have unwitched her again and could not, she put it to her husband, and badde him help her, and when he could not, he put it to this young witch his daughter, & when she could not helpe her neither, then she councelled her mother to kill her.  And to proove sayth the spirite to Mistres Ioan, that all this is true, whensoever any straungers come to this house before the Assises, you shall fall into your fitte, and you shall have three severall fittes, and shall come out of them at three severall charges by the young witch: the first charge that she must use is, as she is a witch, and a worser witch then her mother in consenting to the death of the Lady Crumwell, so I charge the spirite to depart, and you shalbe well: the second is as she hath bewitched Mistresse Pickering of Ellington since her mother confessed: and the third is as she would have bewitched Mistresse Ioan Throckmorton to death, in her last weeke of great sicknesse, after which you shall be well: So the mayde of great sicknesse, after which you shall be well: So the mayde used those three severall charges to Mistresse Ioan at that time, and she came foorth of three severall fittes, and presently fell into her fitte againe.  Then the mayde was willed to aske the spirite whether Mistresse Ioan should have these fits before the Lord Judge, if she were carryed to the Assises: the spirite sayd to Mistresse Ioan, the young witch would know &c. yea sayd Mistres Ioan, whether shal I have my fits before the Lord Iudge or not: the spirite answered that she should have her fittes uppon the Assises day before the Iudges, and all the fittes that ever she hath had heretofore, then was the mayd willed to aske whether Mistresse Ioane should have any more fittes after the Assises, the spirite answered to Mistres Ioan in the same sort which he used before that she should never have any fittes after the assises, and that neither this young witch, nor her mother, nor any kinne of them all should be able to hurt her after the Assises day.  Then the mayde was willed to aske the same question for her sisters how they should doe after the Assises, the spirite sayd that he would not answere that question, saying that her sister Ianes spirite should declare that thing, then the mayd was willed to aske the spirite how many spirites her mother had at the first, and the names of them all severally, & which every one of the children had at that time troubling of them, The spirite (repeating over the maydes wordes unto Mistresse Ioane) answered directly, that the olde woman had nine spirites, and shee had them of a strange man, who was now dead, and his name he will not tell: The names of the spirites were these, for after Mistresse Ioane understoode the question, then she followed it, demanding her selfe of the spirite what she thought good: The names of the spirites were these: There was three which were called by the name of Smackes, the 4. Plucke, the 5. Blew, the 6. Catch, the 7. White, the 8. Callico, the 9. Hardname.  Mistres Ioane Throckmorton had himselfe, who was the first of the Smackes, Mistresse Mary had his cozen Smacke, mistresse Elizabeth had his other cozen Smack, mistres Iane had Blew, Mistres Grace had White, and the old woman had Hardname still with her in the Iayle, and what was become of the rest he could not tell: Then the mayde was willed to aske whether the old woman did reward them with any thing or not, the spirite answered that she did rewarde them every day with bloud from her chinne, saying father that her chinne did once bleede of it selfe to proove her a witch, when she desired God to shewe some signe thereof: Then Mistresse Ioane of her selfe asked the spirite whether the man Iohn Samuell was a Witch or not: The spirite answered that he was a Witch & would be a worse then eyther this young witch is, or the olde witch her mother was, when they two are hanged, for then all the spirites will come to him, and he will doe more hurt then any have yet done, for saith the spirite, he hath alreadie bewitched a man and a woman, and to proove this, if the young witch shall charge the devill to depart from you at this present, even as her father hath bewitched two parties, you shall be presently well, so Nan Samuell did, and mistresse Ioane was well, and fell into her fitte againe: then mistresse Ioane asked the spirite, who those two were that the man had bewitched: The spirite answered that he would not tell, except the young witch went out of the parlor for she must not be here, so mistresse Ioane willed Nan Samuell to goe out of the parlor, and the spirite sayd, let her be watched that she doe not heare when she was gone.  The spirite told Mistresse Ioan that it was Chappell and his wife, which two parties were the old mans next neighbours, and were at some variance and contention with him, and did greatly suspect them- selves of such a matter, for they were both of them a little before that time marueilously troubled with bleach, the woman not able to stirre her selfe, and then man was for a fitte or two in the same case that these children were in, yet sayd the thing if Chappell will beate the olde witch well, he may peradventure never be more troubled with him.  The old witch sayd the spirite would once have broken his necke by giving him a fall upon the causye in the streete as he met him, for he caused on the suddaine both his Pattins to be broken, and if he had fallen on the stones as he fell in the myre, he had beene maymed: this last point of Chappels fall was not knowne to any in the house at that time, and Mistres Ioane being asked of the same when she came forth of her fit sayd that she never heard of any such thing: but when it was inquired of Chappell, he confessed that he had once such a fall, as he met with old Samuell in the streetes, and both his Pattins were broken at one instant, and because he would not fall upn the causie (for it was but narrow) into the myre, wherin he was marveilously foyled, and if an other neighbor had not beene with him, he had beene in greater danger.

138. This tale was tolde by the spirite to mistres Ioane, and mistres Ioane by repeating the spirites wordes declared to them that stoode by, then the mayd was called into the parlor againe, and willed to aske the spirite, whether Mistres Ioan should be well in the way that she went to the Assises or not, and whether she should be better at the Assises then at home, but it shold be worse for the young witch if mistresse Ioan went, and shee should be well all the way shee went untill shee had taken her chamber, and then she should fall into her fit: how true all this fell out, you shall heare hereafter, the spirite told her then again, that she should have three severall fittes upon the Assises day, & the young witch must bring her out of them, by three severall charges: The first must be as she is a worser witch then her mother in bewitching the Ladye Crumwell to death, the second as she hath bewitched Mistresse Pickering of Ellington since her mother confessed, and the third as she would have bewitched mistres Ioan Throckmorton to death in her last weeke of great sicknesse: And the spirite sayd all this is true, and shall be prooved true hereafter, and in token thereof you (speaking to Mistresse Ioane) shall be very well all the day to morrow, and have never a fitte let the young witch doe what she can, except some stranger come, and then you must have three severall fittes to proove her a witch, and so you shall have them whensoever any strangers come: but this sayth the thing of himselfe (speaking to Mistres Ioan) you must remember in any case to pare your nayles when you have scratched the young witch: why must I doe so sayd she? because sayd he, the young witches blood will sticke on your nayles, and you must burne her blood, least  you be worse afterwardes, why sayde mistresse Ioane, put you me in mind of it if I chaunce to forget it? so I will sayd he: then the spirite departed and mistresse Ioane sayde that she must not come forth of her fit, except Nan Samuell helpe her out by one of her charges, which she did, and then she went to bed being very well, and the next day continued without any fits at all, neither came there any strangers to the house.  On tuesday following there came M. Doctor Dorington, and with him one of his brothers M. Iohn Dorington a Londiner, presently after their comming into the house mistres Ioan fell into her fit.  Then did they call for the mayde Nan Samuell, and one of the companie willed her to say the Lordes prayer, and her beliefe, which shee did, and whensoever she named God, or Jesus Christ, or the holy Ghost, mistres Ioane did marveilously start and struggle at it, so that she could scarcely sitte upon her stoole: and in thend the mayd brought her out of her fitte three severall times, by her three severall charges as the spirite before had sayd.

139. The next straungers that came to the house were M. Henry Crumwell one S. Henry Crumwell sonnes, and with him one of S. Henry his men, and this was upon Thursday following being the 29. of March, when they came into the house Mistres Ioane was well, but they had not stayed there a quarter of an houer but she fell into her fit, and was very shrewdly handled before them as was also her sister Iane, whensoever the maide named God, or Christ Jesus, and in the end, she was brought out of her fit, three severall times, by three severall charges as before, many strangers in that weeke came to the house, and she had these severall fits as you shall heare on Munday following which was the day appointed for scratching.  Mistres Ioan fel in to her fit, a little before supper, and so continued all supper time, not being able to stand on her legges, so soone as thanksgiving after supper was beginning to be said, she start up upon her feete and came to the table side, and stoode with her sisters that were saying grace, and presently when grace was ended she fell upon the maide Nan Samuell, and tooke her head under her armes and first scratched the right side of her cheeke, and when she had done that now saide she, I must scratch the left side for mine Aunte Pickering, and scratch that also until bloud came forth of both sides very aboundantly, the maide stoode stone still, and never once moved to goe from her, yet cried very pittifully, desiring the Lord to be mercyfull unto her, when she had doone scratching, Mistres Ioane let her selfe upon a stoole, and fared as though she had bene out of breath, for she tooke her winde merveilous thicke, yet the maide never strugled with her, and was able to hold never a ioynte of her, but trembled as it had bene a leafe, and called for a paire of sheeres, to paire her nayles but wehn she had them, she was not able to hold them, in her hands, so she desired some body to doe it for her, then M. Doct. Doringtons wife who was her Aunt, standing by her tooke the sheeres, and payred her nayles but Mistres Ioane her selfe saved the nayles as her fingers were paired and when she had done threw them into the fire, and called for some water to wash her handes, which after she had done, she threw the water also into the fire: when this was done this Mistres Ioane fell upon her knees, and willed the maid to come and kneele down by her, and to pray with her, they said the Lords prayer togeather and likewise the Creede, but it should seeme, that Mistres Ioane could not heare the maid for she would say amisse many times, and then the company would helpe her out, but Mistres Ioane did not stay for her, so that she had ended her prayers, before the the maide had halfe done hers: After this M. D. Dorington tooke a prayer booke, & read certaine prayers which he thought good, and when he had done, then mistres Ioane fell to exhorting of the maide and gaue her many good exhortations, and as she was thus in speaking to her fell into a merveilous weeping & sobbed so greatly, that she could not well utter her wordes, saying that she would not have scratched her, but y she was forced unto it by the spirite as she was thus complayning on the sudden mistres Elizabeth Throckmorton one of her younger sisters being suddenly taken in her fit (for it was not knowen to any in the companie) came hastely upon the maide, and catched her by one of her handes, and faine would have scratched her, saying that the spirit saith, that she must also scratch her, but the companie willed the maide to keepe her hand from her, which she did, so they strove togeather a great while, untill the child was windlesse: Then said the childe will no body helpe me, repeating the words twise or thrise, then said her sister mistres Ioane, being still in her fit, shall I helpe you sister Elizabeth?  I said she for God sake good sister.  So mistres Ioane came, and tooke one of the maides hands, and held it to her sister, Elizabeth, and shee scratched it untill bloud came, and seemed to be merveilous ioyfull that she had gotten , she pared her nayles also, and washed her hands and threw all into the fire: After al this before the copanie departed, the maide helped mistres Ioane, out of her fitte three severall times one after the other, by three severall charges as you have heard before: And likewise brough mistres Elizabeth Throckmorton out of her fitte by saying as she hath bewitched mistres Elizabeth Throckmorton since her mother confessed.

140. We will now leave mistres Ioane unto the Assises day, I retreat a litle backe againe to mistres Iane, who is the youngest of M. Throckmortons children save one, and hath druncke as deepe of this cup of affliction as any of all her sisters hath done, and as she first talked of it, so she was the first that disliked, and disclosed the author of it, for she it was that first cried out of mother Samuell, and said that it was she that had bewitche her, before either her parents or any other that came towards her, suspected any witcherie et al, since which time as there hath bene great cause to thinke, that whereas she was the first that gave occasion to suspect the old woman, and indeed did her selfe openly accuse her, so she hath bene therefore amongst all the rest, the most extreamely delt withall: for there was never any of her sisters, (mistres Ioane excepted) y did abide such heavie brunts, such daungerous and mortall temptations, as she hath done, for she hath bene often and divers times tempted to cast her selfe into the fire, and into the water, and to deprive her selfe of life by cutting her throate with her owne knife.  And these things have thus appeared in her, namely, that she hath many times in her fitts, suddenly pulled the knife out of her sheath, and if shee hath bene abroade, she hath throwne it from her so far as she coulde: if within the house sitting at the table or in any other place, shee hath throwne it under the table or in some corner of the house, saying that the spirit doth now tempt her to kill her selfe, but she will not, desiring the Lord to strengthen her against them, and when she hath come out of her fit, she hath acknowledged no such matter, marvelling who hath taken her knife from her, and for the daunger of fire, this thing hath also bene proved many times in her: for she hath pressed forwards, and strained her selfe to thrust her head into the fire, and hath bene permitted to come so neere the fire with her head and face, that resting onely upon the strength of one that did withhold her, had she bene let goe, she had fallen flat into the fire, to her utter danger of perishing therin, and the same experience in her, hath as often bene made by water, saying alwaies that the Devill doth tempt her to both: yet this hath bene observed continually in all these temptations that she was never tempted to any of these daungers, (that ever was knowne) being alone, but alwaies when there were some company and assistance by to helpe her: which thing thus considered, whether it hath proceeded of the gracious providence and goodnesse of God, which cannot be denied but that it hath shewed it selfe most straunge and most wonderfull, both in the preservation of her, as also in the rest of her sisters in these their troublesome extremities, or whether it hath bene some secret illusio, and mockery of the Devill to deceive the standers by, it resteth doubtfull, and cannot be determined amongst men, but whether one or the other, or whatsoever, god deserveth the glory.

141. Upon Friday, which was the fifteenth of March 1592, this Mistress Jane was very much troubled with her fit, sitting at the table in dinner time, as she had bene for a fortnight or three weekes before that, more extreamely used at meales, then at any other time of the day, for alwaies a little before she should sit downe either in giuing of thanks, or presently after her fit would surely take her.  On this day as she sat at dinner, she seemed that some thing that sat upon the table, talked unto her about Nan Samuell, for she would listen a while unto it, and then looke backe with an heavie countenance unto the maide, that stoode behinde her, shaking her head as if some sorow were towards.  Now this mistres Iane had bene often tolde, by her other sisters being in their fittes, that the spirit had tolde them, that she shold also scratch Nan Samuell before the next Assises, happen when it should, but she would alwaies make this answere to them, that she would not scratch her, let the Devill doe what he could against her, albeit the spirit had tolde so much to her selfe as shee had oftetimes saide, but she alwaies withstoode the spirit in wordes to his face, saying that she would not doe it: on this night as she sat at supper with the rest of her sisters, she fell into a very extreame fit, bowing and bending of her body, as if shee would have broken her backe, shaking of her hands, as that she could not hold her knife steedfast & many times, it would thrust it against her arme.  When this fit was ended then the spirit seemed to talke to her againe, as it did at dinner, for she used the same manner of gesture to Agnes Samuell that stoode behinde her as before, and gave rather greater signes of sorrow then otherwise.  On the suddaine she arose from the table, and went to the upper end thereof casting, a marveilous heavie, and discontented to looke tothe maide, whereby it was perceived that the child had something in her mind that she could not utter (for her mouth was shut up which did greatly dislike her) then the maid was willed to aske her how she did, the childs mouth was presently opened and she made answer to her worse for you, you young witch turning away her face from her, as if she loathed to look on her.  This was newes to the maide to be called young witch at her hand, so she continued questioning with her, as she was willed, but the child turned away her face, and stopped her eare which was next unto her, saying that she could not abide to heare her or see her, then the maide was willed to aske her what the matter was the child answered that the spirit saith that she must scratch her, when must you scratch me saith the maide, presently the childes mouth was shut up that shee could make no answere.  Then did the child begin to weepe, most lamentable to see, yet so mixed with anger towards the maide, as that often times looking upon her, she should suddenly turne away her face from her, with such a yearning voice, her teeth being set togeather as if the evill spirit had bene whetting and kindling her furie against the maide: cotinuing thus a quarter of an hower the maide was moved to aske againe, whe she should scratch her, the childe answered by signes, for she could heare her, but not speake holding up her finger at (I) and holding it downe at (no) so that it easily might be gathered, that she should scratch her presently after supper so soone as grace was said, then the maide asked in what part she should scratch her, she answered by signe, that it should be upon her right hand, which was the contrary hand to that, which her sister Elizabeth had scratched a weeke before: then M. Throckmorton the childes father caused M. D. Darington, and some other neighbours in the towne to be sent for, to whom when they were come he declared what the child had uttered concerning the maide: In this time before they were come togeather, there was halfe an hower spent, all which time the child continued marveilous pensive, and heavie, weeping very pitifully, yet often fiercely starting out of the place where she sat, towards the maide, as if she would have fallen upon her before the time, so one of the children being in her fit gave thankes, which so soone as ever it was ended, the childe sincking downe upon her knees (for shee could not stand) fell upon the maide with such feircenesse, & rage as if she would have pulled the flesh of her hand from the bones, yet was she scarcely able to race y skin, sayinge to the maide that the spirit that standeth thereby her telleth her, that Pluck holdeth her hart & her hand (meaning the maides) and will not suffer the bloud to come.  When the child was weary with scratching, she breathed & said that she must have an other fit at her: Then D. Dorington moved the people to pray ith him, all which time she kneeled, very quietly, but when prayers were ended she presently fel to worke againe upon the maide as before, saying these words to her, with teares trickling downe her cheeks, I would not scratch you, but the spirit compelleth me, saying that I must scratch you, as well as my other sisters have done, & as my sister Ioan also must doe before the Assises, for this was (if the time be marked) almost three weekes before the Assises.

142. The maid at the first scratching, seemed to go some thing from her, but the child followed still upon her knees, saying to her that she were as good to take it now, as at an other time, for she must fetch bloud on her, & she must have her pennyworthes of her, saying farther, y she knew, that she did now cry, (which indeed she did) but she could not heare her (for so much the spirit tolde her before) because she should not pittie her, when the child was weary and windlesse she left scratching, & wiped little bloud and water togeather, which came from the maides hand upon her owne hands: Then D. Dorington began to instructe the maide, and to exhort her with many good speaches, saying that God would surely not suffer her to be thus cryed out upon by these wicked spirites, and afflicted in this sorte by these innocent children contrary to their willes, if shee were not consenting, or at the least concealing, and of some knowledge of these wicked practices, which her mother had confessed.  The maide very stifly denied all that could be said, & desired God to shew some present token upon her, that they all might know that shee was giltie of thse matters: Presently after these words, her nose began to bleede, and she bled verie much, which thing whether it were a signe of Gods sending at that time, in token of her giltinesse or not, that he knoweth onely: and man (I thinke) may without offence greatly suspecte.  Yet this shee could say being charged with all, that she had bled fower times that day before, which thing was very true, bleeding very much every time, alwayes saying that she had not bled so much to her remembrance in seaven yeares before, wishing that this often bleeding would foreshew no evill towards her: In thend the child said, of her selfe, that the thing which now standeth by her doth tell her, that she must not come foorth of her fitte, untill the old man Iohn Samuell the maydes father, shall come and pronounce certaine words to her which she must tell him: then was she asked by the maid & others that stood by, what those wordes shold be, but the child could not heare any body: by & by she sayd of her selfe, what is her father come into this reckoning now? & shal I never come foorth of my fit, until he speake these words, even as he is a witch & consented to the death of the La. Crumwell, so to charge the spirit to depart fro me, & then I shalbe well & not before?  I did thinke even so, said she, that he was as bad as the worst, he looked so ilfavouredly: then M. Throckmorto hearing those words of his daughter, desired M. Henry Pickering the childes uncle, & two other of the neighbors, to goe see if they could procure him to come, but he refused to come, so the company for that night departed, & the child went to bed in her fit, & so continued untill the Assises day, as hereafter you shall heare, her father yet not ceasing to send for the man every day, and to go to him himselfe, yet could by no means procure him to come to his house.  On Sunday following, which was the xviij. of March in the morning, the spirit came againe unto her, then said the chld, the thing saith that I should now both heare & see y young witch if she were here (for so y spirits alwaies called her) & see the thing also which I never did before, all of the together, then was the maid called for, & asked the child what the thing saith unto her, she answered that the thing telleth her, that now she must start as wel as her sister Ioan both whensoever she nameth God that she must not come foorth of her fite, this weeke nor the next, and peradventure never, until one of these three things come to passe, which are, either your father (speaking unto y maid) must come & speak these words to me, cue as he is a witch, & hath consented to the death of the La. Crumwell: or you must confesse that you are a witch, & have bewitched me & my sisters: or el you must be hanged: then the maid was willed to aske the child whether she should come forth of her fitte, whensoever or whersoever her father did speake these words to her: then the child asked the spirit, and the spirite answered, that she should and so for that time  the thing departed & she continued in her fit, the maner wherof was as followeth, she would fitte sometimes in the house all the day together, as one in a melancholike passion, not speaking to any body, nor desirous of any copany, sometimes againe she is very lightsome & merry, and will sport & play with her sisters a great part of the day, yet not hearing nor seeing any body, neither speaking to any particulerly, when any passeth by her, she will say yonder goeth such a coloured gown, I mervaile how it goeth alone: yonder is a paire of nether stocks of such a colour, or yonder is a hat, a paire of shoes or a cloke, but I can see nothing els.  If one had shewed her their hand with a ring on their finger, she would say yonder is a ring hangeth in the aire, I marvaile how it hangeth and no body hold it: many will thinke these matters incredible, but assuredly they are most true.  This thing also was many times proued while those kind of fits continued upon her, that sitting at dinner or supp, she shold suddenly have her mouth shut, and if Agnes Samuell had then come, & held a knife to her mouth, & put it betwixt her lips, her mouth should have bin presently opened, & not before, & thus the spirite hath delt with her 5. or 6. times in a dinner while, & in this fitt she continued three weekes wanting one day, for so long it tooke her before thassises.

143. To come therfore now to the Assises day last past on wednesday the 4. of April, Mrs. Joan went to Huntingto, & as she wet upon the way was very well, as she was also all the morning & so continued untill within halfe an houre after shee had taken her chamber in the Inne: & then suddently as she sate by the fire she fel into her fit, & having continued so a litle space, there came divers up into the chaber to see her, who perceiving that she sate so quietly, would not be perswaded of any thing to be a misse in her: many of them tooke her by the hand, & spake to her as they thought good, but shee neither heard not perceived any thing at all: The some of the copany turned the to the mayd Agnes Samuell, who stood by her & came that morning with Mr. Ioan fro Warboys, & enquiring of her concerning her faith & service of God, she answered that she served God as other people did, whe she named God Mrs. Ioan began to start and struggle with her armes, as if all had not beene wel, which the copany perceiving, brought her somthing neerer, & willed her to say y Lords praier and her beliefe, which the maid began to do, but before she went halfe through, the company desired her for copassion sake to stay her prayers: for the Gentlewoman Mrs. Joan was so grieuously tormented in her body as that it set them all in a maze that saw it, and were resolved of that whereof before they stood doubtfull, namely that Mistres Ioane was not in perfect estate: So the company continued their speech to the mayd, & ever as by occasion she named God or Jesus Christ, mistres Ioane started and strugled with her selfe, sheuering & shaking of her armes & sholders in that manner, as that every body perceived easily that it was not possible for any so to doe of themselves, yea and many times when no body noted the name of God to be uttered by the mayd, yet would mistres Ioan put them in mind thereof by her strugling.  And if the mayd chanced to double the name of God in her mouth, as to say the God of heaven and earth, or Jesus Christ the sonne of God, it would not suffer her to sit upon her stoole: But when she desired the God of heaven & earth to helpe her, or Jesus Christ the sonne of God to be merciful to her, why then it would so strangely torment her, as that they that saw it could not tel whether they should more woonder to see the sight, then lament and pittie the Gentlewomans case, then a Gentleman in the company (well acquainted with those maners) willed the mayd to say to mistres Ioan, my God helpe you, or my God preserve & deliver you, or the God who I serve defend you and be merciful unto you, which she did, but mistres Ioan never once mooved therat, but when she was willed againe to say Jesus Christ deliuer you, or the God of heaven & earth helpe you, then would she so struggle & grone, as that al the chamber sounded withall.  And this was prooved an hundred times that day, before five hundred men at severall times, and in the same evening after the Court was broken up, M. Justice Fenner who for that time was Judge alone, had a desire to see mistres Ioan Throckmorton, then being at the signe of the crowne in the Hunt. being the place where the sayd Iudge with a great assembly of Iustices & gentleme met the said Mistr. Ioan Throck. in a faire Alley, being at that present out of her fit, & perfectly well, & after some speeches made by the said Iudge to mistres Ioan, she fel into one of her ordinarie fits, her eyes closed up, shaking her shoulders & her armes stretched out right, ready to fall to the ground, but that she was assisted by her father, & not being able to stand, she was led into an arbor, whether also went both the Iudge, & the other company, there they saw the said Mrs. Ioan grieuously tormeted most pittiful to behold, many good prayers were made both by the Iudge & all the copany, but no case appeared: the the father of the said Mr. Ioan told the Iudge that there was one in the company (naming Agnes Sam.) that if she would say certain words in the maner of a charge, y then the said mistr. Ioan shalbe presently well, a thing desired of all the company, therfore the Iudge caused the said Agnes Sam. to stand forward, and to know the charge, which was repeated by M. Throck. father of the said mistr. Ioane, the words were these: As I am a witch, & a worse witch then my mother, & did consent to the death of the La. Crumwell, so I charge the devil to let mistr. Ioan Throck. come out of her fit at this present.  But before Agnes Sam. spoke the charge to make some triall in others of the effect thereof, the Iudge himself, D. Dorington, M. Throckm & others spake the words of the charge, but the said mistres Ioan had finall ease by their speeches, neither would she come out of her fit, the both the Iudge & the other copany made many good prayers & petitions to God, but no amendment appeared, after this Agnes Sam. was comanded by the Iudge to make some good praiers to God for the ease of the sayd mistr. Ioan, which she did, at which time if the said Agnes Sam. had prayed to God or Jesus Christ, then the said mistres Ioan was in shew more troubled then before, & the reason was foretold by the said mistres Ioan, & all her other sisters by the spirite, that whensoever the said Agnes did use the name of God or Jesus Christ, they shold be worse troubled then whe any other spake y words, for he that is perfect God almightie will not suffer his name to be used in the mouth of such a wicked creatures, which was then proued true, then Agnes Sam. was comanded to say as I am no witch, neither did cosent to the death of the La. Cruwell, so I charge the devil to let mrs. Ioan come out of her fit at this present, but all this was to no purpose: lastly the sayde Agnes Sam. was commanded to say the right charge, which was as I am a witch, & a worse witch then my mother, and did consent to the death of the La. Crumwell, so I charge the deuil to let Mistres Ioan Throckmorton come out of her fit at this present.  These wordes were no sooner spoken by the said Agnes Samuel, but the said Mistres Ioan Thorkmorton wyped her eies and came out of her fit, & made low renerence to the Iudge, and so shee remained about halfe a quarter of an houre, and then shee fell into an other kinde of fitt, first shaking one legg & after the other, then one arme & after the other, & then her head & shoulders, with other extraordinarie passions, to the great griefe of them that were present: but the Judge greatly lamenting the case.  When both he and many others ha dmade some good prayers (and finding no ease) caused the said Agnes Samuell to repeat another charme, vx. As I am a Witch & would have bewitched to death Mistres Ioan Throkmorton in her last weeke of her great sicknes, so I charge the Diuel to let Mistres Ioan come out of her fit at this present: which words being saide by the said Agnes Samuell, the said Mistres Ioan was presently well.  Then the Judge asked her where shee had beene: Shee anuswered, I have beene a sleepe.  I pray God, said the Judge, send you no more such sleepes.  Soone after, shee fell into one of her other ordinarie fittes, with a most strange & terrible kind of neesing, and other passions, the which was so vehement & pittifull to be heard, that it moued all the companie at one instant, to pray to God to saue her, fearing that her head would have burst in sunder, or her eies start out of the same, so that the Iudge made small delay, but caused the said Agnes Samuel to speak the other charme, which was, As I am a Witch, and did bewitch Mistres Pikering of Ellington, since my mothers confession: so I charge the Divel, to let Mistres Ioan come out of her fit at this present: which words being spoken, presently the said Mistres Ioan was well as ever shee was in her life, & so hath continued without any grife or fittes till this day.  The Lord be thanked therefore.

144. The next day being Thursday in the morning, there were three severall Inditements made, and deliuered to the great Inquest, whereof the one was against olde father Samuell, old mother Samull, and Agnes their daughter, for bewitching unto death the Ladye Cromwell, late wife of Sir Henry Cromwell of Finchingbrook in the countie of Huntington Knight, contrary to Gods Lawes & the statute made in the rb. yeare of the Queenes Maiesties reigne that now is &c.  The other two Inditements were framed upon the said statute for bewitching of Mistres Ioan Throckmorton, Mistres Iane Throkmorton & others, contrary to the said statute.  The Inditements being deliuered to the graund Jury, the evidence was given them privately, by Maister Dorington Doctor of Divinitie, and Parson of the towne of Warboyes aforesaide, by Gilbert Pickering of Tichemersh in the Countie of Northampton Esquire, by Robert Throckmorton Esquire, father of the the said children, by Robert Throckmorton of Brampton in the saide Countie of Huntington Esquire, by Iohn Pickering and Henry Pickering gentlemen, & by Thomas Nutt Maister of Art, and Uicar of Ellington.  The graund Jury made no great delay, but found them all guiltie.  And about eyght of the clocke, the euidence by the forenamed gent. was openly at large deliuered in the Court, to the Jury of life and death: & with great patience of the Judge, it was continued til one of the clock in the after noone.  So many of these proofes, preseumptions, circumstances, & reasons conteyned in this booke, was at large deliuered, as that time would afforde, which was fiue houres, with out intermission or interuption, until both the Iudge, Iustices, and Iury saide openly that the cause was most apparant: their consciences were wel satisfied, that the said Witches were guilty, & had deserued death: and therewithal the gent ceased to give any further evidence.  And this as no small thing is to be remembred, that Mistres Iane Throckmorton on Friday the xvi. of March last past being in one of her accustomed fittes, saide that the spirit told her, shee should never come out of her fitt, untill old father Samuell had saide these wordes: As I am a Witche, &  consented to the death of the Lady Cromwell, so I charge the devill, to suffer Mistres Iane to come out of her fitt.  And this she published opely in the hearing of many : therfore her father sought meanes, both by himselfe and others, to haue Iohn Samuell come to his house to the child, but they could not prevaile: wherefore the saide Iane continued in hir senceles fitts with many panges and vexations in every parte, as they are before described, from the saide xvi. of March, til the fourth of April, which was three weekes wanting a day: which day also the said Mistres Iane was brought to Huntington, and there in her fit, was set in the Court before the Iudge, where many questions were demaunded of her, but she aunswered to none, for the diuell would not suffer hir co speake: her eyes were open, yet such a mist was before them, that she neither knewe, neither did see hir father, which was next her, and diuers of hir uncles and frends.  Then the Iudge caused olde Samuell to be brought from amongst the other prisoners to the upper barr: nere unto the place where the clarks sate: where also stoode the saide Iane. (And the Iudge being before tolde, that if old Samuell would speake the wordes before recited, the saide Iane should be wel.)  The Iudge therfore asked him, whether he by any meanes could cause the said Iane to come foorth of her fitte, who denied the same.  Then the Iudge saide, as he was informed, that he the saide Samuel had a charme made of certein words, which if he would speake them, the childe should be wel: therefore the Iudge recyted the charme, and willed him to speake the wordes, but he refused the same and saide, I wil not speake them.  The Judge persuaded him, and intreated him, insomuch that the said Judge, the rather to incorage the saide Samuel, spake himself openly the charme, so did also master Doctor Dorington, and others then present (by the Judges apoyntment:) yet he refused the same.  Many good and goly prayers were openly made to God both by the Iudge and others, for the case of the childe: whereat the childe seemed nothing to be moued.  Then the Iudge willed Samuel to pray unto God for the comfort of the Childe, which he did, but when he named God or Jesus Christ, the childes heade, shoulders, & armes were sore shaken, and in shewe more troubled then before.  Then the Iudge said, y if he would not speake the words of the charme, the court would hold him guiltie of the crimes whereof he was accused: & so at the length, with much ado, the saide Samuell (with a loude voyce) said in the hearing of al that were present: As I am a Witch, and did consent to the death of the Lady Cromwell, so I charge the deuill to suffer Mistres Iane to come out of her fitt at this present.

145. Which words, being no sooner spoken by the old Witch, but the said Mistres Iane, as her accustomed order was, wiped her eyes, and came out of her fitt: and then seeing her father, kneeled downe, and asked him blessing, and made reuerence to her uncles that stood neere her: which before shee toke no shewe of knowledge: and wondering said: O Lord, father where am I? For that as it semed shee neither saw nor heard before, nor knew how she was brought into such a presence.  Then the Iudge saide: you see all, she is now well: but not with the musike of Dauids harpe, alluding to the place of Scripture, where King Saule being vexed by an evell spirit received comfort and helpe when David played on his harpe before him.  Then the confession of old mother Samuel (before specified) made the 26. day of December 1592 last past at Burkden, before the reuerent father in God William Bishop of Lincolne, was openly redd: So also was read  the confession of the saide mother Samuell made at Burkden afore saide the 29 day of December 1592 before the saide reuerent father in God. William Bishop of Lincolne, Fraunces Cromwel, & Richard Tryce Esquires, Iustices of her Maiesties peace within the countie of Huntington, which also is before specified.  After these confessions redd, and deliuered to the Jury, is pleased God for the further proofe & ouerthrowe of these wicked persons to reare up moe witnesses at that time unexpected, who spake som things of their owne knowledge, and some of the reporte: the first was Robert Poulter vicar & Curat of Brampton aforesaid, who said openly that one of his parishioners called Iohn Langley, at that instant being very sicke in his bed, had tolde him, that one day he being at Huntington at the signe of the crowne, did in the hearing of old mother Samuell forbid Mister Knowles of Brampton aforesaid, to give her any meate, for that shee was an old Witche: and thereupon in the afternoon, as he went from Huntington to Brampton, having a good horse under him, he presently died in the feilde: and within too dayes after, by the providence of God, he did escape death, twice or thrice very daungerously: and though it pleased God, not to suffer the devill to have the maistry of his body at that time, yet presently after, he lost as many good and sound Cattell to all mennes iudgements, as were worth twentie markes: himselfe, not long after, in bodie extraordinarily handled.  And the same night of the day of Assises, as after it proued true, the same Iohn Langley died.  Also the forenamed Master Robert Throckmorton of Brampton, (which before had given some evidence against the saide Witches in the childrens behalfe,) now he spake for him selfe, that he likewise at Huntington and in other places having dealt verie roughly in speeches with the saide mother Samuell: On Fryday the tenth day following, had one of his two yeere olde beastes dyed: and on Sunday next after another beast of the same companie and like age died also.  The next weeke after on Fryday, he had a yereling Calfe died, and the next Sunday following, he had an other calfe of the same company & like age died also.  The next weeke after, Fryday he had an Hogg died, and the next Sunday after, he had a Sow having tenne Pigges sucking on her died also.  Whereupon advice was giuen him, that whatsoever thing next died, to make a hole in the ground, and burne the same.  Likewise the fourth weeke on Fryday he had a verie faire Cowe worth foure markes died, & his servants made a hole in the ground and buried the same Cowe in it, & threw faggots and fire on her, & burnt her: and after that, all his cattell did well.  Of this last matter, mother Samuel being examined the night before her execution, shee confessed the bewitching of the saide Cattel, in manner and for me as is declared.

146. Then the Jaylor of Huntington gave this evidence, That a man of his finding mother Samuell verie unruly whilest she was prisoner, at a time chayned her to a bed-post: wherefore, not long after, his man fell sicke, and in all respectes was handled as the forenamed children were, with heaving up & down of his bodie, shaking his armes, leggs, & head, having more strength in him in his fittes, than any two men had, crying out of mother Samuell, saying that she did bewitch him: and thus remaining in this extradordingary course of sicknesse, about five or sixe daies after died.

147. The said Jaylor saide also, that nat long after the death of his servaunt, he had one of his sonnes fell sicke, and was for the most parte handled as his servaunt before named was: so that it was most apparaut that he was bewitched:  therefore the saide Jaylor went into the Prison, and brought mother Samuell to his sonnes bed-side, and there helde her, untill his sonne had scatched her, and so presently his sonne amended.  And to drawe to some ende, the Jury of life and death, in the afternoone, found all the Inditements Billa vera, which when olde father Samuell heard, he saide to his wife in the hearing of manie: A plague of God light upon thee: for thou art shee that hath brought us all to this, and wee may thanke thee for it.

148. Then the Iudge grewe to sentence, and asked olde father Samuell what hee had to saye for him selfe, why iudgement of death shoulde not be pronounced on him: Whereat he aunswered, that he had nothing to saye, but Lorde haue mercie on him.  Then the Judge asked olde mother Samuell what shee had to saye for her selfe, to staye Judgement: Whereat shee aunswered, that she was with child: which set all the companie on a great laughing, and shee her selfe more than any other, because as shee thought, there should (for that cause) na iudgement haue beene giuen.  Her age was neere fourscore, therefore the Iudge moued her to leaue that aunswere: but in no case shee would be driven from it, till at length, a Jury of women were impanelled, and sworne to search her: who gaue up their verdit, that she was not with childe, unlesse (as some saide) it was with the Diuell, & no marueile: for after shee was found guiltie, there went the forenamed Maister Henrie Pickering unto her where shee stoode amongest the prisoners, to persuade her to confesse the trueth, and amongst other things shee confessed, that the forenamed William Langley, who gave unto her the Spirites, had carnall knowledge of her bodie, when shee receiued them.  Some are of opinion, that it was the Diuel in mans likenesse.

149. After all this, the Iudge asked Agnes Samuell the daughter, what shee had to say, why iudgement of Death should not be giuen her.  At which time, there was one (being a prisoner) standing by her, that willed her to say that shee was also with childe.  Nay, saide shee, that will I not do: It shall neuer be said, that I was both a Witch and a whoore.  And so the Iudge after verie sound and divine councel giuen severally to them all, proceeded to iudgement, which was unto death.  The next day, certeine godly men went to the prison to perswade the condemned parties to repentance, and to confesse their sinnes to the world, and crave pardon at Gods mercifull hands: at which time, mother Samuell being asked, by Maister Iohn Dorington Esquire, one of her Maisties Iustices of the Countrie of Huntington, whether shee did not bewitch the Lady Cromwell?  Shee said no forsooth, I did not.  Then her husband old father Samuell standing behind, and hearing ber denie the same, saide, denie it not, but confesse the trueth: for thou didst it one way or other.

150. The confession of the olde woman Alice Samuel, vnto certeine questions that were demaunded of her, by master Doctor Chamberlin, at the time and place of her execution being vpon the ladder.

151. First, being demaunded what the names of those Spirites (wherewith shee bewitched) were called, shee said, they were called Plucke, Catch, and White, the which names shee often repeated. Being asked, whether shee had bewitche the Lady Cromwell to death or nott shee aunswered, that shee had.  Being asked with which of her Spirites shee did bewitch the said Lady to death: Shee said, with Catch.  And being demaunded for what cause shee did it: Shee aunswered: For that the said Lady had caused some of her haire and her haire-lace to be burned: and  that shee said, Catch willed her to be revenged of the said Ladie: and that thereupon the said Mather Samuell willed him go and do what he would. And being asked, what Catch said to her when he came backe againe: Shee confessed that he saide, that he had beene revenged of her. Moreover, shee confessed and upon her death did say for trueth, that shee was guiltie of the death of the Lady Cromwell. Being demaunded, whether she had bewitched Master Throckmortons children: Shee confessed, that shee had done it. Being asked, with which of her Spirites: Shee said, that it was Pluck. Being asked, what shee said to him, when shee sent him about that matter: Shee confessed, that shee willed him: go torment them, but not hurt them. Being asked, how long they should be in that case: Shee said, shee could not tell: and that shee did not seen Plucke since Christmas last. Being asked, what shee did with White: Shee said, that shee never did hurt with him: and that shee had sent him to the Sea, and that he had sucked upon her chinne, but the other two had not any reward. And likewise shee confessed, that she had those Spirits of one, whose name (shee said) was Langley: where he dwelleth, shee knew not. And for that her husband would not confesse any thing of the witchcraft at the time of his death, nor of the priuitie of himselfe or his daughter, as accessaries to the same: It was demaunded of her, whether her husband was privie to the death of the Lady Cromwell or not: Shee aunswered, he was.

152. Being demaunded whether her husband was a Witch, or had any skill in witchcraft: shee said, he had, and could both bewitch & unwitch: but touching her daughter, shee would in no sort confesse any thing, but fought by all meanes to cleere her. And for her daughter, her selfe, shee confessed nothing at all touching the witchcraft, but being willed by Master doctor Chamberlin to say the Lordes prayer and the Creede when as shee stoode upon the ladder readie to be executed, shee said The Lords prayer, until shee came to saye, But deliuer vs from euill, the which by no meanes shee could pronounce: and in the Creede, shee missed verie much, and could not say, that she beleeued in the Catholike Church.

153. After the execution was ended, and that these three persons were throughly dead, the Jaylor (whose office it is to see them buried) stripped off their clothes, and being naked, he found upon the bodie of the olde woman Alice Samuell, a little lumpe of flesh, in manner sticking out, as if it had beene a teate, to the length of halfe an inch, which both he and his wife perceiuing, at the first sight thereof, meant not to disclose, because it was adioyning to so secrete a place, which was not decent to be seene. Yet in the ende, not willing to conceale so strange a mattee, and decently couering that privie place a litle aboue which it grewe, they made open shewe thereof to diuers that stoode by.  After this, the Jayors wife tooke the same teate in her hand, and seeming to straine it, there issued out at the first, as if it had beene beesenings (to use the Jaylers word) which is a mixture of yellow milke and water. At the second time, there came out, in similitude as cleere Mylke, and in the ende verie bloud it selfe. For the trueth of this matter, it is not to be doubted of any: For it is not onely the Jaylers report unto all that require of him: but there are fourtie others also in Huntingtonshire of honest conuersation, that are readie to confirme the same upon their owne sight.

154. And thus ye haus the storie of these three Witches of Warboyes, so plainly and briefely, as may be deliuered unto you. If any be desirous to know the present estate of these children, howe they are & haue beene since the death of these parties: you shall understand, that since their day of execution, not any one of them haue had any fit at all: neither yet grudging or complaining of any such thing, but have all of them beene in as good estate, and as perfect health as ever-from their birth. Gods blessed name be euermore praised for the same. Amen.

FINIS

* Originally published Monday, Jun 05, 2017, last updated on Friday, Jun 23, 2017

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