Part 16

was in old times an established institution. In 1666 the Chamberlain of the Worcester Corporation spent £10. 14s. in an entertainment to Mr. Gratrix, "an Irishman famous for helping and curing many lame and diseased people only by stroking of their maladies with his hand, and therefore sent for to this and many other places." Valentine Gratrix--surnamed the Stroker--was a great proficient and master of the art; and by a letter of his (still in existence) to the Archbishop of Dublin, it appears that he believed himself to be inspired by God for the purpose of curing this disease. He was entertained with great hospitality at many of our citizens' houses, and was thus fortunate in having a long start of the mesmerizers of the present day. The parish register of Chaddesley Corbett contains a "Mem. That Nov. 24, 1685, a certificate was granted to Gervase Burford, to be touched for the King's evil;" and two years later King James II was at Worcester, and attended at the Cathedral for the purpose of touching persons affected with the evil. From the Worcestershire county records it appears that in 1688 one Susannah Rose petitioned the Court of Quarter Sessions on behalf of her brother, George Gilbert, a blacksmith, of Stourbridge, upon whose toes a hammer having fallen, had disabled him from work, and "after much suffering he was persuaded it was gone to the King's evil, went to London, and was touched by his Majesty, but afterwards was forced to go to a surgeon, at Rushock, under cure for above half-a-year, when he left him off, and would not let him be entertained in the parish any longer," and the poor petitioner being unable to provide for him, prays for his settlement at Bellbroughton, where he was born and apprenticed. In the parish records of St. Nicholas, it is stated that in 1711, one Walker, a pauper, was sent to London to be touched; and I believe that Dr. Johnson was touched by Queen Ann, as late as 1712. In the reign of Charles II a royal proclamation was issued stating the time when that monarch would touch persons afflicted with this disease. A broadside containing a printed copy of this proclamation still exists at Painswick, in Gloucestershire, in the possession of Mr. Gyde, the surgeon there. William of Malmesbury, who flourished in the twelfth century, alleges the origin of the Royal touch to have been on this wise: a young married woman, having some enormous glandular swellings on her neck, was admonished in a dream to have it washed by the King (Edward the Confessor). His Majesty readily fulfilled this labour of love by rubbing her neck with his fingers dipped in water, and before a week had expired, the tumour subsided and a fair new skin covered the affected part, so that a perfect cure was the result--and not only that, but the woman, who had been previously childless, in less than another year became the mother of twins, which (the sage chronicler gravely remarks) "greatly increased the admiration of Edward's holiness. Those who knew him more intimately affirm that he often cured this complaint in Normandy; whence appears how false is their notion who in our times assert that the cure of this disease does not proceed from personal sanctity but from hereditary virtue in the Royal line."

WITCHCRAFT.

"A thousand fantasies Begin to throng on my memory, Of calling shapes and beck'ning shadows dire, And aery tongues, that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses."

A lingering belief in witchcraft still remains among the most ignorant of our population, both rural and urban. Some particulars relative to the existence of this superstition in this county in the seventeenth century will be found among the county records in the early part of this volume. The law against witchcraft, passed in the time of James I, being very stringent, the driving out evil spirits, allaying of ghosts, and abjuring witches, became, for nearly a century, a profitable employment. Witch-finders existed as public officers; and beside the public executions which disgraced every assizes, multitudes of accused were destroyed by popular resentment, while others were drowned by the test applied, for if, on being thrown into the water, they did not sink, they were presumed witches, and either killed on the spot or reserved for burning at the assizes. In the year 1649, four persons were tried at Worcester for this supposed offence, and all were executed, _two of them confessing their crime_, viz.: Margaret Landis and Susan Cook; Rebecca West and Rose Holybred died obstinate. The custom at Worcester was to duck the accused in the Severn (Cooken Street, or "Cucken Street," as it is spelt in some old maps, being no doubt the line of route on these occasions).

Baxter, in his "World of Spirits," speaks of those men who told of things stolen and lost, and who showed the face of a thief in a glass, and caused the goods to be brought back, who were commonly called "white witches." "When I lived (he says) at Dudley, Hodges, at Sedgley, two miles off, was long and commonly accounted such a one; and when I lived at Kederminster, one of my neighbours affirmed that, having his yarn stolen, he went to Hodges, ten miles off, and he told him that at such an hour he should have it brought home again and put in at the window, and so it was; and as I remember he showed him the person's face in a glass. Yet I do not think that Hodges made any known contract with the devil, but thought it an effect of art."

About the year 1672 a prebend of Worcester (Joseph Glanville) seriously wrote a book, entitled, "Some considerations touching the being of Witches and Witchcraft," which engaged him in a controversy that lasted as long as his life. The statute 9th George II, chap. 5 (1736), at length repealed the disgraceful Witch Act, and stopped all legal prosecutions against persons charged with conjuration, sorcery, &c.; yet what has once taken so firm a hold of the popular mind is not to be so easily eradicated; and Dr. Nash, who wrote his "Worcestershire" towards the close of the last century, asserts that not many years previously a poor woman, who happened to be very ugly, was almost drowned in the neighbourhood of Worcester, upon a supposition of witchcraft; and had not Mr. Lygon, a gentleman of singular humanity and influence, interfered in her behalf, she would certainly have been drowned, upon a presumption that a witch could not sink. Later still, Mr. Allies informs us, that when the late Mr. Spooner kept a pack of hounds, whenever they passed through a certain field in Leigh Sinton, the hounds would invariably run after something which nobody could see, until they came to the cottage of an old woman named Cofield, when they would turn back again, the old witch having then got safely into her own "sanctum." The exploits of Mrs. Swan, of Kidderminster, who pretended to discover stolen property for everybody else except what she herself had lost, and who died in an awfully tempestuous night in November, 1850, when her cats so mysteriously disappeared, cannot yet be forgotten; nor the recent existence of "the wise man of Dudley," and many others of the same class, though not quite so celebrated, who are now living. Some of the Mathon people still believe that witchcraft makes their pigs waste away; and, when convinced of the fact, they kill the animal, and burn a part of the flesh, to prevent any ill effects to those who eat the remainder. Mr. Lees informs us of a pear tree in Wyre Forest, the fruit of which is even now hung up in the houses of the peasantry as a protection against witchcraft. The witch elm (_Ulmus montana_) was the one commonly employed for the purpose, as most easily attainable. That was _good_; the mountain ash or witten tree was _better_; and the sorb tree or true service (_Pyrus domestica_) was the _strongest_ of all. Nine withes of witch hazel, banded together, is used as a rustic appliance to guard against witching influence. There is a place called "Witchery Hole," in Little Shelsley, concerning which, whenever a violent wind blows from the north, the people say, "The wind comes from Witchery Hole," insinuating that certain "broomstick hags" had something to do with raising the wind. For a baker to cross the flour before he commences baking is regarded as a security against the witch entering the bread. The horse-shoe is still seen over doors, in many places, and fastened to bedsteads to keep witches away. At the Police Office, at Stourbridge, only a few months ago, a woman named Wassall charged a Mrs. Cartwright, a poor woman afflicted with paralysis, with threatening to do her some bodily injury. The defendant alleged that the affliction under which she was suffering was caused by the complainant, who had bewitched her; and that when she begged her to remove the spell, complainant told her it had been upon her for twelve weeks, and it should continue six weeks longer. Finding entreaties vain, the defendant made use of some idle threat, which led to the summons. A "charm" was shown to the Court, which the deluded creature had worn by the advice of a "wise" man to remove the spell; it was a small black silk bag, containing pieces cut out from the Prayer Book and Bible, and some hair, evidently from a cat's back. The Bench endeavoured to assuage the fears of the poor woman, and told her not to impute her affliction to the evil machinations of any one, at the same time severely lecturing the complainant for practising such deceit upon an ignorant and afflicted fellow-creature.

There were reputed witches at Malvern in the last generation; and at Colwall the common people are said even now to dislike peewits (lapwings) which visit that place, believing that their cry is "bewitch'd, bewitch'd;" and should any person capture one of these birds he is strongly recommended not to keep it for fear of misfortune or accident. Peewits are believed to be departed spirits who still haunt the earth in consequence of something that troubles them.

GHOSTS.

At Beoley, about half a century ago, the ghost of a reputed murderer managed to keep undisputed possession of a certain house, until a conclave of the clergy chained him to the bed of the Red Sea for fifty years. When that term was expired the ghost reappeared (two or three years ago), and more than ever frightened the natives of the said house--slamming the doors, and racing through the ceilings. The inmates, however, took heart, and chased him, by stamping on the floor from one room to another, under the impression that, could they once drive him to a trap-door opening into the cheese-room (for which, if the ghost happened to be a rat, he had a very natural _penchant_), he would disappear for a season. The beadle of the parish, who also combined with that office the scarcely less important one of pig-sticker, declared to the writer that he dared not go by the house now in the morning till the sun was up. (It was an ancient superstition that evil spirits flew away at cock-crowing.)

The Droitwich Canal, in passing through Salwarpe, is said to have cut off a slice of a large old half-timbered structure supposed to have been formerly a mansion-house; and in revenge for this act of mutilation, the ghost of a former occupier revisits his old haunts, affrights the domestics, and may be seen on dark nights, with deprecatory aspect, glide down the embankment, and suicidally commit himself to the waters below.

The Little Shelsley people will have it that the Court-house in that parish is haunted, and that a Lady Lightfoot, who was said to have been imprisoned and murdered in the house, comes at night and drives a carriage and four fiery horses round some old rooms that are unoccupied, and that her ladyship's screams are sometimes heard over the whole Court. She has likewise been seen to drive her team into the moat, when the whole disappeared, the water smoking like a furnace.

Many of the ancient manor-houses of Worcestershire have similar superstitions. At Huddington, there is an avenue of trees, called "Lady Winter's Walk," where the lady of Thomas Winter, who was obliged to conceal himself on account of the share he had in the Gunpowder Plot, was in the habit of awaiting her husband's furtive visits; and here the headless spectre of her ladyship is still seen occasionally pacing up and down beneath the sombre shade of those aged trees. A headless female also appears at Crowle brook, by which it would seem that the poor heart-broken lady sometimes extended her visits.

At Leigh, a spectre, known as "Old Coles," formerly appeared, and at dead of night, with _vis insana_, would drive a coach and four down a part of the road, dash over the great barn at Leigh Court, and then cool the fiery nostrils of his steeds in the waters of the Teme. Mr. Jabez Allies also records that this perturbed spirit was at length laid in a neighbouring pool by twelve parsons, at twelve at night, by the light of an inch of candle; and as he was not to rise again until the candle was quite burnt out, it was therefore thrown into the pool, and, to make all sure, the pool was filled up--

"And peaceful ever after slept Old Coles's shade."

This Coles (as is recorded by Mr. Lees) was on intimate terms with a neighbour at Cradley, and being distressed for want of money, heard that his friend was going to Worcester to receive a large sum, and thereupon waylaid him on his return by night. Coles seized the bridle and threatened his friend's life; but the Cradley yeoman drew his sword and made a furious cut, which freed him at once from the robber, and he rapidly rode home; on his arrival there he found a bloody hand firmly grasping his horse's bridle, and one of the fingers bore the signet ring of his friend Coles. Next day he went to Leigh, and found Coles in bed; he acknowledged his crime, and begged for mercy, which was granted in consideration of his awful punishment.

At Astwood Court, once the seat of the Culpepers, was an old oak table, removed from the side of the wainscot in 1816, respecting which tradition declares that it bore the impress of the fingers of a lady ghost, who, probably tired of appearing to no purpose, at last struck the table in a rage, and vanished for ever; but the ghost was also in the habit of walking from the house to "the cloven pear-tree."

At Holt Castle, it was not long ago believed by the servants that a mysterious lady in black occasionally walked at dead of night in a certain passage near to the attics; and likewise that the cellar had been occupied by an ill-favoured bird like a raven, which would sometimes pounce upon any person who ventured to approach a cask for drink, and having extinguished the candle with a horrid flapping of wings, would leave its victim prostrated with fright. A similar legend prevails at Leigh Court. A solution has been given to this legend, however, which would imply a little cunning selfishness on the part of the domestics who had the care of the ale and cider depôt.

LOVE SPELLS.

A correspondent at Cutnall Green says that it is believed there that for a single female to sleep in a new pair of shoes and stockings is a sure means of her dreaming of her future husband; and for a female to sleep with a breast bone, knife and fork, and a plate, carefully put under her bolster, also is sure to make her dream of her lover.

Another informant--a lady, who forgot to state the place of her residence--sends me the following: If a maiden wishes to know her future husband, let her on Midsummer Eve, at midnight, descend backwards from her bed-room to the garden, and, still walking backwards around it, and scattering hemp seed with her right hand as she goes, repeat these lines:

"Hemp seed I sow Hemp seed is to mow, And the man that my husband is to be, Let him follow after and mow,"

when he will suddenly appear with a scythe in his hand, which, unless the poor damsel be particular in keeping her right hand stretched out, may prove a dangerous weapon. Also on Midsummer Eve, take two flowers called among the country people "Midsummer Men," and planting them in the thatch, repeat your own and sweetheart's name. Should they grow, a wedding is certain, but if not, the lovers will be parted. On All Saints, commonly called "All Hallows," let a young woman take a ball of new worsted, and holding the end in her fingers, throw the ball through the window (at midnight) saying, "Who holds?" the man who is to be her husband will pick up the worsted, mention his name, and disappear. On Christmas Eve, let three, five, or seven young girls take each a sprig of rosemary and place it in a bowl of water, putting the vessel in the centre of the room. Stretch a string across directly before it, hanging thereon a white garment of each person. They must then sit speechless until the witching hour of midnight, when each of their lovers will appear and take a piece of rosemary out of the basin, and mention his own name and his sweetheart's. When the first new moon in the year appears, she may go to the garden, and looking steadily at it, say--

"New moon, new moon, Tell unto me Which of these three is my husband to be,"

mentioning the names of three young men, and curtseying to each one. When next she sees them, let her notice if they have their backs or faces towards her. The one who has his face towards her will be her husband. Hang a peapod containing nine peas over the doorway; the young man who passes under it first (not one of the family) will be the husband of the young woman who hangs it there. When a young girl receives a letter from her lover, let her pin it in nine folds and place it next her heart, on retiring to rest. If she dream of gold or jewellery, he is sincere in his professions; if not, let her beware. Take a ring and hang it upon one of your own hairs, hold it steadily over a wine glass half full of water, and wish to know how many years it will be before you are married. As many times as it hits against the side of the glass, so many years it will be before you are joined in holy wedlock.

If a girl pluck a rose on Midsummer Eve, and wear it on the succeeding Christmas Day, whatever single man takes it from her must marry her.

To ascertain whether a pretended lover is sincere, take an apple-pip, and naming one of your followers, put the pip on the fire: if it make a noise in bursting it is a proof of love; if there is no crack, it is a sign that he has no regard for you:

"If you love me, bounce and fly; If you hate me, lie and die."

Another charm consists in sticking pips upon the cheek, and naming several lovers, the truest being shown by that which remains longest.

Fingered leaves are supposed to have a magical character. If the terminating leaflets of the common ash are _even_ (they being usually _odd_) they bring "luck or a lover."

The herb Paris, a common plant in thick woods, has very frequently its four leaves multiplied into five or six, and thus generally gets the name of _true love_. So the common Cinquefoil, called "Five-leaved grass," from having its leaves in five digitated divisions, are made six or seven by accessory leaflets, and the following rhyme is repeated in rural places:

"Five-leaved grass, with six leaves on, Put it under your pillow, and you'll dream of your mon."

A powerful love-spell is produced by what is called the "Speechless hawthorn." In May or June a flowering branch of the hawthorn must be silently gathered in the evening, and the maiden gathering it must refrain from speech that night, as a single word spoken would break the spell. Hastening to bed as soon as possible, speechless she must place the hawthorn branch under her pillow, and then, in the visions of the night, the man whom fate has destined for her future husband will certainly present himself.

The common brake fern (_Pteris aquilina_), cut in two obliquely, shows the initial letters of a sweetheart's name.

Get a maiden egg, carefully break it, and fill half the shell with salt; then eat the salt as you go to bed, walking up stairs backwards, and backing into bed also; be sure and keep silence and you will dream of your lover: if he should offer a glass of water he will be a poor man; if a glass of wine, a gentleman.

On some Friday night go to bed, and put your shoes under your pillow, crossing the left shoe over the right, and say--

"On this blessed Friday night I put my left shoe o'er my right, In hopes this night that I may see The man that shall my husband be, In his apparel and in his array, And in the clothes he wears every day; What he does and what he wears, And what he'll do all days and years; Whether I sleep or whether I wake, I hope to hear my true love speak."

Silence must be preserved till the morning, when the lover is expected to appear in a dream.

Another love spell is "the dumb cake." This cake must be made on New Year's Eve, and eaten in silence by a number of young girls; one of them must place a clean chemise, turned inside out, on a chair before the fire; this must be sprinkled with water by a branch of rosemary; all must then sit round the fire in silence till twelve o'clock. If any among the party wish to be married during the ensuing year, the form of her husband will approach the fire and turn the chemise.

Legends and Traditions.

The legends of Worcestershire, as of most other counties, are mainly traceable to middle-age ecclesiastical influences or to the popular ideas of the author of all evil. Some few are derived from an exaggerated recollection of historical facts, and a still smaller number have descended to us from pagan times. Of these, with others whose origin is buried in obscurity, I shall now proceed to give a sample.

Ribbesford church contains an ancient sculpture on the tympanum of its principal doorway, representing an archer, with a doe or some other animal near him, which he has apparently shot at, but missing his aim, the arrow passes through what some have supposed to be a salmon, others a seal or a beaver; and the legend is, that Robin of Horsehill, the ranger to the manor, went out to shoot a buck, but incontinently pierced a salmon in the river. It is probable, however, in accordance with the known custom of the Norman builders, that the sculpture is merely intended to represent the leading feature of the locality, where an abundance of game was to be procured, the occupants of the manor being bound to furnish sporting for the monks of Worcester. Mr. Lees says that only recently another sculpture has been discovered at this church which seems to establish the proof that they are symbolical in design.