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'Harlots, Whores and Witches'

While lacking the lurid and fantastical details that are commonly associated with endemic witch trials, more 'mundane' accusations provide fascinating glimpses into the on-goings of communities. Each episode informs us about numerous aspects of early modern life. In the case of the series of libel accusations presented before the ecclesiastical courts of Chester in the seventeenth century they proved that women too could be actively and vigorously involved in levelling accusations against each other. Moreover, they also illustrated a definite association between allegations of witchcraft and sexual impropriety

Harlots, Whores and Witches, Oh my! Witches have a certain image expected of them and this overwhelmingly features, broomsticks, cauldrons and a cat, the latter preferably black. Yet this image owes much to the plays and pantomimes of the nineteenth century, an image perpetuated in the twentieth century by Disney et al. Yet what is the truth behind the stereotypes? The fantastical image of witches and a desire to explain why ordinary people believed it was possible their neighbour could make a pact with the devil and be responsible for causing everything from an ailing pig, to the death of an infant has lured more than a few historians. Over the course of the last century a multitude of explanations have been postulated and witches have been explained as a diabolic cult or the remnants of a pre-Christian religion. Anthropology, psychoanalysis, economics and literary criticism have all been employed in an effort to explain witch trials and accusations; a variant of LSD has even been suggested as the underlying cause in some cases. One factor of witch trials in particular has generated considerable debate, witches’ tendency to be predominantly female. In England’s case 95% of those accused were female, this and other similar statistics from around Europe make it tempting to conclude that witch trials represented a form of male domination. From the early days of witchcraft historiography when Margaret Murray presented witches as a subversive movement repressed and persecuted by the Christian Church the conclusion that witch trials were a form of male domination has appeared inescapable. A number of explanations for the witch hunt have been proposed over the past forty years– witches as female peasant revolutionaries fighting the patriarchy of state and church, as proto feminists whose strong characters and habit of speaking out against the dominant ideals of society lead to them suffering the consequences or as female folk healers persecuted by the rising male dominated medical profession. These ideas did draw attention to an area of study which had been neglected prior to the 1970’s, namely the prevalence of female victims, but viewing witch trials solely as chauvinistic persecutions is limiting in scope. In more recent years historians have come to see witch trials as more than exercises in male dominance and appreciate that women themselves were capable of levelling accusations against each other. Indeed for some accusations of witchcraft were the preserve of women, occurring in the female arena and providing a means to resolve conflicts between women. It is comprehendible why in the past historians perceived witch trials to be brutal illustrations of misogyny. If we focus solely on epidemic trials, such as those in Lancashire in 1612 or Mathew Hopkins’ infamous endeavours in civil war Essex, then it is easy to perceive witches as downtrodden victims, helpless in the authoritarian face of male oppression. Yet if we step away from such notorious episodes and examine the more mundane instances of accusation which were a feature of sixteenth and seventeenth century communities it is possible to acquire a different perspective. Such accusations do not feature the lurid and fantastical details that are commonly associated with witches; there are no broomsticks, cauldrons or demonic orgies. If anything they are the early–modern equivalent of soap operas, featuring recriminations, scandal and mysterious deaths. They provide fascinating glimpses into the on-goings of communities and this window into the past is part of their appeal. Witch trials and the beliefs associated with them are truly a malleable subject to study. Every episode uncovered in the archives informs us about numerous aspects of early modern life, including (but far from limited to) class and gender conflict, religious tensions, popular and educate beliefs, the relationship between science and magic, changing social norms and the effectiveness of the state. In the case of a series of libel accusations presented before the ecclesiastical courts of Chester in the seventeenth century they proved that women too could be actively and vigorously involved in levelling accusations against each other. Moreover, they also illustrated a definite association between allegations of witchcraft and sexual impropriety. Ecclesiastical courts didn’t just deal with suspected witchcraft; they were an important instrument in early modern England. When it came to enforcing moral standards and mediating in personal disputes the church courts had a wide domain; the administration of wills, Sabbath keeping, church attendance and the regulation of sex and marriage were all within their remit. Consequently their records provide an invaluable window into the daily lives of ordinary people, couple this with witchcraft’s own potential for social insight and the examination of such records can be immensely rewarding. Witchcraft accusations did not always have to lead to epidemic hunts, there was a persistent undercurrent of such accusations which peppered the communal quarrels which were a feature of early-modern life. Moreover, there was a clear tendency for the word witch to be hurled as an insult, frequently accompanied by other colourful slurs of a decidedly salacious nature. Isabella Bradshaw certainly pulled no punches when she called Katherine Ward, ‘a whore, an arrant harlot and hast done much harm in the cuntree I trust to see thy head hang as high as Laborn’s head’. Others were more concise, although Elizabeth Whitrowe went a little further over the mark when she accused Anna Brook of being both a witch and a ‘millners whore’. Witch was not an insult which was exclusively used by women, Jacob Eaton in 1613 accused Jane Bell of being a ‘whore and charming witch’. Sometimes it was men themselves who could be on the receiving end of the accusation, in the same year Thomas Lowe, Laurence Kershaw and Edward Bulcocke were charged with saying that John Ramsden was a witch. In this instance the supposed witch was actually believed to have practised malign magic, in witching a cow and a number of chickens to death. Notably, Ramsden’s sexual character escaped any castigation and the only other taunt which he had to suffer was that of knave. The above trend is indicative of ‘double standard’ in early modern sexual morality. Sexual honesty was central to the concept of female honesty, therefore in verbal disputes sexual insults were one of the most effective weapons to be used against women, both by men and other women. As these records from Chester illustrate, a favoured combination was that of denouncing your opponent as both whore and witch. It is interesting to consider that as the whore could be considered the counterpoint of the lawful honest wife, so to the witch represented the antithesis of all society’s positive values. In order to damage an individual’s reputation the pair were a powerful combination, suggesting that the individual on the receiving end of the insult was a woman of loose morals and a wielder of malignant magic. Since she was in possession of the former, it could only make her a more likely candidate to be the latter. As William Perkins, the seventeenth century English demonologist and preacher saw it women’s weaker nature and their tendency for being, ‘more displeased more malicious and so more apt to revenge according to their power’, made them more likely to resort to witchcraft. Whilst it was always possible that such accusations were malicious and possessed no foundation in reality, on occasion there may have been some justification for an allegation that an individual practised witchcraft, or at least attempted to provide some un-orthodox medicinal aid. Once again there appears to be an association between alleged promiscuity and the witch. In 1627 Frances Done accused Emma Mosse of libel for saying that the former had practised witchcraft and made potions but it was not only the possibility of potion making that made Frances vulnerable to gossip. Frances had a reputation for infidelity, one Randle Mosse informed her husband that, ‘Frances had beene caught with or committed adultery’. With regards to the alleged witchcraft Emma was not the only local with a grievance against Frances. Another neighbour Anne complained that Frances Done had made a medicine for her but that, ‘her husbands said daughter being sicke did affirme and say that if she then died she would take it on her death that the said Frances Done was the cause of her death’. As for Emma’s cause for complaint, it would appear that jealousy was at the root of it for she complained that, ‘by witchcraft (Frances) caused the foresaid John Done her husband to marry her which otherwise he would not have done’. She even described the possible means of this witchcraft, which in a rather clichéd fashion featured a toad, ‘the said Frances Done took a toad and lay it in a hillock till it was dead and that then she could make or take a powder out of it with which she could bewitch anybody’. The above examples clearly illustrate the not infrequent use of the word ‘witch’ in the fraught exchanges and disputes which were part and parcel of personal interaction within early modern communities. Anyone on the receiving end of such an insult could not afford to take the inference lightly, especially women, for it was not only their honour at stake but that of the whole household. Any slight against a woman’s reputation tainted her husband and family exposing them to judgement, gossip and public shame. These instances also testify to the association of the insult ‘witch’ with loose morals and that in most cases it was the individual’s personal, (even extra-marital), relations more than any supposed magical ability or malign influence that was behind the allegation. The reason for such an association warrants further consideration. The ideal of womanly behaviour was the limiting of the female sphere of operation to the home and family, to the degree that the woman was compared to a snail, ‘not only for her silence and continuall keeping of her house’ but for her timorous nature. Nothing could be further from this model than the twin evils of whore and witch, representing as they did the polar opposites of desirable womanly behaviour. The arena of verbal dispute provided a means for women to exercise their own agency when many other avenues were closed to them and amongst their most powerful weapons were the words, ‘whore’ and ‘witch’. Such snippets are informative but we are fortunate to have more extensively documented cases which can reveal even more as to how the insult ‘witch’ was employed. One such instance occurred in 1662 when Maria Briscoe and Anna Wright aired their personal grievances before the church court. It appeared that the latter had alleged that Maria was responsible for a bizarre sounding ailment which had deprived her of her daughter. The further the case progressed, however, the more complex and antagonistic the relationship between the two women was revealed to be. Beneath Anna’s accusation lay years of conflict and hostility and it seemed the two had made something of a sport of smearing each other’s character. Initially Maria appears ‘a woman of very ill repute and discredit among her neighbours’, who took advantage of Ann’s poverty and innocence. Yet as one delves further into the documents Anna is revealed as an equally assertive character, a ‘troublesome, contentious and ill tempered woman’, who is as culpable as her opponent. At the outset however, Maria appears guilty of more than her fair share of misdemeanours. It was alleged she attempted to suborn Elizabeth Jenkins to testify against Anna by, ‘giving unto her money and victuals’. Elizabeth did not prove amenable to Maria’s offer, unsurprising since she believed Maria had deprived her of two husbands, ‘for the one she had driven out of towne and the other she had taken his life’. Furthermore Elizabeth reported that Ann Ridgway held Maria partly responsible for her illegitimate child as, ‘she much feared that the said Mary Briscoe had bewitched her when that child was got’. Within a few pages of this case we have been granted a privileged insight into the working of a community, its characters, history and provided with further evidence that women were perfectly capable of fighting their own battles in the verbal arena and of mobilising others to their cause. Subsequent depositions further clarify the causes of the feud between the two women. There were several contentions between them at the root of which was Maria’s desire for a house Anna had at one time inhabited. In an unfortunate coincidence after a number of, ‘evil and bitter words and expressions’, between the two Anna’s son Hugh was suddenly taken sick with strange distemper and died. Naturally, Maria was suspected to be the cause of his ailment. Twelve months later the two were still at logger heads and in another unfortunate coincidence Anna was to suffer yet a second bereavement and once more Maria was held responsible. One Sabbath day Anna’s daughter, also named Ann, returned home in a terrified state. She recounted a bizarre encounter with Maria in which the latter had, ‘the saddest look on her that ever she saw’, more unusually Maria had, ‘eyes on her like a catt all kind of colours’. One of the traditional ways witches were believed to bewitch their victims was through the power of their malign gaze, Maria’s feline like eyes were an unusual touch however. After relating her encounter Ann too was taken suddenly ill. On this occasion the distemper was more extreme. For thirteen weeks Ann languished and was, ‘in a very sad and dolefull manner, her body swelled and her eyes hanged over her cheeks and sometimes would play on her forehead and sometimes up and downe on her face like two bladders a very hideous and lamentable spectacle and she died’. Further details of the malady were provided by Cicillie Winne, Ann suffered ‘violent fittes and passions and when she went in to them she would catch and fight with anything that was neare her’. Not only did the bizarre nature of her symptoms raise questions but throughout her ailment she complained that, ‘Mary Briscoe … pricked her to the heart with pins and needles and noebody had done her any harm but shee’. Here was a hint at yet another method favoured by English witches, especially Lancashire’s witches. In a practice akin to ‘voodoo’ dolls the witch would make a ‘poppet’, a small image of the intended victim, which could be pricked and manipulated to cause ill health. The demise of Ferdinando the Earl of Derby in 1594 was attributed to the tormenting of, ‘a little image made of wax with hairs the colour of his in the belly of it’. The group of Pendle witches tried and executed in 1612 were also familiar with the technique, with the matriarch Old Demdike accounting the method, ‘the speediest way to take a man’s life’. Given the combination of unnatural symptoms and accusation from the victims’ own mouth it could be assumed that Maria was at risk of suffering the same fate as the Pendle group, a short, sharp drop from the gallows. Maria’s apparent guilt could only be compounded if there was the suggestion of previous accusations against the family and unfortunately for Maria it seemed there was. Her own mother ‘was arraigned and hanged for a witch and she the said Mary … is very much suspected by that evill and diabolical Arte’. Even her husband despaired that his wife would follow in her mother’s footsteps for, ‘he was very much troubled … but he could not rule her and he was much afraid that she would come to the same end that her mother did’. All these factors considered Maria presented the picture of a stereotypical witch, a hereditary reputation, an argumentative nature, seeming resentment of male authority and just in case there was any doubt about her malicious talents there was the allegation from the sickbed of her victim. It could be assumed then that Maria’s fate was sealed. Conversely it was Maria who had brought the case before the consistory courts, accusing Anna Wright of libel. This tactic was not unheard of as the suspected witch brought her accuser to the courts in the hope of clearing her name, would Maria be successful in her quest to do so? Despite Anna’s best efforts to cast herself in the role of distraught mother and victim who had only spoken out of, ‘passion and out of motherly affection’, the further the case progressed the less one sided it was revealed to be. Both plaintiff and defendant were well aware of the rules of play and Anna’s attempt to colour her allegations as the product of motherly love once more illustrates women’s ability to manipulate the system. Anna’s outburst would have to be proved to be the product of malice to qualify as slander it. It is no surprise therefore that Anna was eager to qualify her allegation and that her associates were keen to stress that she was a ‘peaceable woman among her neighbours’. The further the case progressed, however, the more this impression was revised. Anna’s maligning of Maria’s character had brought into her into contact with the authorities on more than one occasion. A year earlier the pair’s bickering incited the intervention of one Thomas Mainwaring. Unsurprisingly they had diverging accounts of the affair. Anna and her associates insisted that the matter had been resolved. Anna publicly had asked for Maria’s forgiveness and, ‘since that time … Anna Wright hath give no evill unbeseeming or scandalous words’ against Maria. Anna even suggested that it was Maria again was at fault on this occasion, for Mainwaring, ‘answered her the said Briscoe that if ever shee troubled her the said Wright about the said matter hee would bind her to good behaviour’. According to Anna’s version, therefore, the matter had been settled and Maria had no reason to accuse her of libel. That Maria and her favourers had a different version will be of no surprise. William Wright deposed that although she did attend the scheduled appointment Anna made ‘no absolute acknowledgment’ of her wrongdoing. According to another testimony she had been rather forceful in her refusal to do so stating, ‘that she would be in prison and rot’ before she would make any such apology. Others including the minister and Mainwaring’s maid joined the debate over whether or not Anna had ever offered an apology. Anna’s apology, therefore, remains in doubt. What becomes increasingly obvious though is that both women were forceful characters who were unafraid of challenging each other and others within the community, whether it was within or without the legal framework. Moreover if their battles were to be conducted in the court then, contrary to misconceptions, these women would not be cowed by the system, but would do their best to manipulate it in their favour What we can be more certain of is the root cause of this earlier dispute. Anna, it emerged, had cast aspersions upon Maria’s chastity by claiming she had accommodated another woman’s husband in her house for five nights whilst her own husband was away. Although according to some Anna was not in the prime position to throw around such accusations for she was not so virtuous herself having born a bastard child three years ago, ‘about the latter end of the year after his majesty [James VI and I] came into England [1604]’.) To compound her sin the midwife Elizabeth Wright reported that not only had Anna failed to divulge who the father was but she had failed to perform any form of penance. Once again it is readily apparent that there is far more to this case than Maria’s alleged witchcraft, and associated with it are allegations of sexual impropriety. The motivations for Anna’s accusation will never be transparent and we can only hypothesise as to her intentions. A picture emerges of two strong willed women who were capable of pursuing their own agendas without the aid of any man, consequently they had butted heads on a number of occasions. What is more, clearly such allegations were not the preserve of ‘male oppressors’, for in this case as in numerous others it is obvious that the two women were adept at manipulating the system to their own ends. Moreover that they were able to mobilise others to their cause is plainly discernible as the community (or at least a fraction of it) separated into two opposing factions. Obviously an allegation of witchcraft, or indeed any form of accusation, was not solely the preserve of accuser and defendant but came to involve their associates and various others with a stake in the case, whether it was a matter of supporting their friend or attempting, (albeit on this occasion unsuccessfully) to restore communal harmony. These later depositions reveal that without any intercession from Maria, Anna’s daughter was already in possession of a sickly constitution, ‘for many years weake and infirme in body and sickly and had the kinges evil’. These later testimonies also indicate just how important an individual’s standing was in the community and weight attached to ‘credit’ and ‘repute’. A key factor in determining the success of your case was the discrediting of your opponent’s witnesses by casting doubt upon their reputations. Maria’s witnesses expounded considerable effort refuting the testimony of Anna’s supporters, for example Cicillie Winne was accounted, ‘a common tattler, a tale bearer and of noe credite or repute among her neighbours and a common lyer’. Anna herself was described as, ‘a troublesome, contentious, ill tempered woman and hath fallen out and scolded with many of her neighbours’. Of course Anna’s sexual veracity had already been placed in doubt by her alleged bearing of a bastard. All these factors combined, Anna’s belligerent nature and promiscuity, the doubtful nature of her witnesses’ statements could not have boded well for her defence. Indeed Anna was appearing to be everything that she had accused Mary to be. By casting judgment upon other’s moral fortitude slanderers opened themselves to judgement, a dangerous position, for as this case clearly demonstrates there was every chance that their own aspersions would rebound back upon them. Notably one of Anna’s witnesses remained immune from criticism and that was Richard Winne. Whilst the testimonies of Anna’s female witnesses were accounted to be, ‘most false and untrue’ Richard’s evidence and indeed character remained unscathed. That the plausibility of Cicillie, Elizabeth and Anna’s evidence was easier to discredit and their characters more vulnerable to criticism can be attributed to their gender. Certainly, that the only witness of Anna’s to remain untouched was male would seem to testify further to the ‘double standard’ in early-modern society. Ultimately Maria’s standing in the community outweighed Anna’s; in contrast to Anna and her allies she was accounted a, ‘a very civil and good neighbour and of good credit and account’ and what was more she had given no one, ‘just occasion to revile or fall out with her’. Maria’s ‘good credit’ was sufficient not just to withstand the accusations Anna had made against her, but to ensure that the verdict fell in her favour. This libel case presents us with the less titillating but more commonplace face of witchcraft; not every case had to lead to a hunt, salacious confessions and multiple hangings. Such disputes may not possess the drama of their more widely publicised cousins but this is no reason to neglect them. Maria and Anna’s disputes are testimony to the fact that witchcraft accusations were part of the wider discourse of communal disputes, for the allegation of witchcraft was just one facet in their protracted and fraught history. Moreover women were clearly capable of using the language of witchcraft and sexual slander to their own ends; these two women were neither passive victims nor the stooges of male inquisitors but were actively pursuing their own quarrels using the mechanisms of the law. Within the nuances of these more domestic dramas we glimpse how the early modern community managed its more contentious members. For Anna Wright the outcome was yet another public apology, ‘I doe hereby declare and acknowledge … that I have done the said Mary much wronge by such words, that I neither know or believe any such things by her and doe desire her to forgive me and I promise by God’s grace never to offend in the like here after’ Whether Anna was any more successful at keeping this promise we do not know.