Irish Witchcraft and Demonology

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1. The Witch Trial of Florence Newton at Youghal

   Youghal · townland · Cork · 1661

   The author notes that the important 1661 witch trial of Florence Newton at Youghal is historically undoubted, yet was never printed by Irish publishers, surviving only in two London-printed books.

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   At a later date, when men had become practical enough to question the reality of such things, a literary war took place, and in this "battle of the books" we find such well-known names as Richard Baxter, John Locke, Meric Casaubon, Joseph Glanvil, and Francis Hutchinson, ranged on one side or the other. Thus the ordinary Englishman would have no reasonable grounds for being ignorant of the power of witches, or of the various opinions held relative to them. In Ireland, on the other hand (with the solitary exception of a pamphlet of 1699, which may or may not have been locally printed), there is not the slightest trace of any witchcraft literature being published in the country until we reach the opening years of the nineteenth century. All our information therefore with respect to Ireland comes from incidental notices in books and from sources across the water. We might with reason expect that the important trial of Florence Newton at Youghal in 1661, concerning the historical reality of which there can be no possible doubt, would be immortalised by Irish writers and publishers, but as a matter of fact it is only preserved for us in two London printed books. There is no confusion between cause and effect; books on witchcraft would, naturally, be the result of witch-trials, but in their turn they would be the means of spreading the idea and of introducing it to the notice of people who otherwise might never have shown the least interest in the matter. Thus the absence of this form of literature in Ireland seriously hindered the advance of the belief in (and consequent practice of) witchcraft.

   Project Gutenberg #43651, Chapter 2

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere close to Youghal, in 1661, Florence Newton was tried for witchcraft. The trial is a matter of historical record, its reality beyond doubt. Yet this important case was never taken up by Irish writers or publishers. Everything we know about it survives only in two books printed in London. In England at this time, witchcraft was a subject of fierce literary debate. Richard Baxter, John Locke, Meric Casaubon, Joseph Glanvil, and Francis Hutchinson all took sides in what was called the battle of the books. An ordinary Englishman would have had no reason to be ignorant of the power of witches, or the opinions held about them. Ireland was different. Apart from a single pamphlet of 1699, which may or may not have been printed locally, there is no trace of witchcraft literature published in the country until the opening years of the nineteenth century. All information about witchcraft in Ireland comes from incidental notices in books and from sources across the water. There is a strange logic here. Books on witchcraft would naturally follow witch trials. But those same books would then spread the idea, bringing it to people who otherwise might never have cared. So the absence of this literature in Ireland seriously hindered the spread of belief in witchcraft, and the practice that followed from it. Florence Newton's trial, for all its importance, found no Irish voice to carry it forward.

2. Valentine Greatrakes, the miracle stroker, buried at Affane

   Affane · townland · Waterford · 1662–1683

   Valentine Greatrakes (1629–1683), one of the amateur witch-finders who tested Florence Newton, later became famous as a healer who from 1662 believed he could cure the king's-evil by laying on of hands with prayer, drawing patients from England and Ireland. He was buried beside his father at Affane, County Waterford, and was derided by Increase Mather as a 'miracle-monger'.

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   Many of the actors in the affair were persons of local prominence, and can be identified. The "Mr. Greatrix" was Valentine Greatrakes, the famous healer or "stroker," who also makes his appearance in the tale of the haunted butler (see p. 164). He was born in 1629, and died in 1683. He joined the Parliamentary Army, and when it was disbanded in 1656, became a country magistrate. At the Restoration he was deprived of his offices, and then gave himself up to a life of contemplation. In 1662 the idea seized him that he had the power of healing the king's-evil. He kept the matter quiet for some time, but at last communicated it to his wife, who jokingly bade him try his power on a boy in the neighbourhood. Accordingly he laid his hands on the affected parts with prayer, and within a month the boy was healed. Gradually his fame spread, until patients came to him from various parts of England as well as Ireland. In 1665 he received an invitation from Lord Conway to come to Ragley to cure his wife of perpetual headaches. He stayed at Ragley about three weeks, and while there he entertained his hosts with the story of Florence Newton and her doings; although he did not succeed in curing Lady Conway, yet many persons in the neighbourhood benefited by his treatment. The form of words he always used was: "God Almighty heal thee for His mercy's sake"; and if the patient professed to receive any benefit he bade them give God the praise. He took no fees, and rejected cases which were manifestly incurable. In modern times the cures have been reasonably attributed to animal magnetism. He was buried beside his father at Affane, co. Waterford.[33] Some of his contemporaries had a very poor opinion of him; Increase Mather, writing in 1684, alludes contemptuously to "the late miracle-monger or Mirabilian stroaker in Ireland, Valentine Greatrix," whom he accuses of attempting to cure an ague by the use of that "hobgoblin word, _Abrodacara_."

   Project Gutenberg #43651, Chapter V

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere near here lies Valentine Greatrakes, a man they called the stroker. He was born in 1629 and died in 1683, and he is buried beside his father at Affane in County Waterford. He served in the Parliamentary Army, and when it was disbanded in 1656 he became a country magistrate. At the Restoration he was stripped of his offices, and turned to a life of contemplation. Then in 1662 the idea seized him that he had the power to heal the king's-evil. He kept it quiet for a time, but at last told his wife, who jokingly told him to try his power on a boy in the neighbourhood. He laid his hands on the affected parts with prayer, and within a month the boy was healed. Gradually his fame spread until patients came to him from parts of England as well as Ireland. The words he always used were, God Almighty heal thee for His mercy's sake. If a patient professed to receive any benefit, he bade them give God the praise. He took no fees, and he rejected cases that were manifestly incurable. In 1665 Lord Conway invited him to Ragley to cure his wife of perpetual headaches. He stayed about three weeks, and though he did not succeed with Lady Conway, many persons in the neighbourhood benefited by his treatment. While there he entertained his hosts with the story of Florence Newton and her doings. Not everyone thought well of him. Increase Mather, writing in 1684, alluded contemptuously to the late miracle-monger or Mirabilian stroaker in Ireland, Valentine Greatrix, and accused him of attempting to cure an ague by the use of that hobgoblin word, Abrodacara.

3. Mace Portent at James II's Entry into Dublin

   Dublin · townland · Dublin · 1689

   When King James II first entered Dublin in 1689, the mace-bearer stumbled without any apparent cause, and the small cross atop the mace's crown became wedged fast between two stones in the street. This was seen as an ominous portent that troubled the King and his attendants.

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   The account of the following portent is given us in Aubrey's _Miscellanies_. "When King James II first entered Dublin after his Arrival from France, 1689, one of the Gentlemen that bore the Mace before him, stumbled without any rub in his way, or other visible occasion. The Mace fell out of his hands, and the little Cross upon the Crown thereof stuck fast between two Stones in the Street. This is well known all over Ireland, and did much trouble King James himself with many of his chief Attendants"; but no doubt greatly raised the hopes of his enemies.

   Project Gutenberg #43651, Chapter 9

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere close to Dublin, in 1689, King James the Second entered the city after arriving from France. One of the gentlemen bearing the mace before him stumbled without any rub in his way or visible cause. The mace fell from his hands, and the little cross upon the crown of it stuck fast between two stones in the street. This was well known all over Ireland, and it troubled the King himself and many of his chief attendants, while no doubt it greatly raised the hopes of his enemies.

4. Michael Scot Declines the Archbishopric of Cashel

   Cashel · townland · Tipperary · 1223

   In 1223 the Pope set aside the Capitular Body's election to the vacant Archbishopric of Cashel and instead nominated Michael Scot, a scholar so renowned for learning that he was widely reputed a wizard. Scot declined the position on the grounds that he did not know the Irish language.

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   From this on we shall endeavour to deal with the subject as far as possible in chronological order. It is perhaps not generally known that at one time an Irish See narrowly escaped (to its misfortune, be it said) having a magician as its Chief Shepherd. In 1223 the Archbishopric of Cashel became vacant, upon which the Capitular Body elected as their Archbishop the then Bishop of Cork, to whom the temporalities were restored in the following year. But some little time prior to this the Pope had set aside the election and "provided" a nominee of his own, one Master M. Scot, to fill the vacancy: he however declined the proffered dignity on the ground that he was ignorant of the Irish language. This papal candidate was none other than the famous Michael Scot, reputed a wizard of such potency that--

   "When in Salamanca's cave Him listed his magic wand to wave The bells would ring in Notre Dame."

   Project Gutenberg #43651, Chapter 4

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere around here, in 1223, the Archbishopric of Cashel fell vacant. The Capitular Body elected the then Bishop of Cork to fill it, but the Pope set that election aside and put forward his own choice, Master Michael Scot. Scot declined the position, giving as his reason that he did not know the Irish language. He was a scholar of such renown that people widely reckoned him a wizard. As the old verse had it, when in Salamanca's cave he listed his magic wand to wave, the bells would ring in Notre Dame. So the See narrowly missed having a magician as its Chief Shepherd.

5. The 'Blinked' Cow Case at Dungannon

   near Dungannon · townland · Tyrone · 1890

   At Dungannon Quarter Sessions in June 1890, a farmer sued another over a cow believed to be under the evil eye or a pishogue. A wise woman from the mountains prescribed a ritual involving cutting locks from the cow, writing suspects' names, and burning hair and thatch on a hot coal, then having the cow lick the ashes as a cure.

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   As is only to be expected in a country where the majority of the inhabitants are engaged in agricultural pursuits, most of the tales of strange doings are in connection with cattle. At Dungannon Quarter Sessions in June 1890, before Sir Francis Brady, one farmer sued another for breach of warranty in a cow.[63] It was suggested that the animal was "blinked," or in other words was under the influence of the "evil eye," or had a _pishogue_ put upon it. The defendant had agreed to send for the curative charm to a wise woman in the mountains. The _modus operandi_ was then proceeded with. Three locks of hair were pulled from the cow's forehead, three from her back, three from her tail, and one from under her nostrils. The directions continued as follows: The operators were to write the names of eight persons in the neighbourhood whom they might suspect of having done the harm (each name three times), and the one of these eight who was considered to be the most likely to have "blinked" the cow was to be pointed out. When this had been done there was to be a bundle of thatch pulled from the roof of the suspected person. The owner of the cow was then to cut a sod, and take a coal out of the fire on a shovel on which to burn the hair, the thatch, and the paper on which the names had been written. The sod was then to be put to the cow's mouth, and if she licked it she would live.

   His Honour to defendant: "And did she lick it?"

   Project Gutenberg #43651, Chapter 10

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere around here, in June 1890, a case came before Dungannon Quarter Sessions that shows how cattle and old beliefs ran together. Sir Francis Brady was presiding. One farmer sued another for breach of warranty in a cow. The animal was said to be "blinked," meaning it was under the influence of the evil eye, or had a pishogue put upon it. The defendant had agreed to send for a curative charm to a wise woman in the mountains. The ritual that followed was laid out in detail. Three locks of hair were pulled from the cow's forehead, three from her back, three from her tail, and one from under her nostrils. The operators were to write the names of eight neighbours they suspected of having done the harm, each name three times. The one considered most likely to have "blinked" the cow was to be pointed out. Then a bundle of thatch was to be pulled from the roof of that suspected person. The owner of the cow was to cut a sod and take a coal from the fire on a shovel, on which to burn the hair, the thatch, and the paper with the names. The sod was then put to the cow's mouth. If she licked it, she would live. His Honour asked the defendant: "And did she lick it?"

6. A Charmed Life Saves a Young Woman near Virginia

   Virginia · townland · Cavan

   The Rev. George Creighton, minister of Virginia in Co. Cavan, reported that a rogue attacked a young woman with a drawn sword, thrusting at her naked body three times, yet she remained unharmed, leaving the attacker confounded and fleeing.

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   We have the following on the testimony of the Rev. George Creighton, minister of Virginia, co. Cavan. He tells us that "divers women brought to his House a young woman, almost naked, to whom a Rogue came upon the way, these women being present, and required her to give him her mony, or else he would kill her, and so drew his sword; her answer was, You cannot kill me unless God give you leave, and His will be done. Thereupon the Rogue thrust three times at her naked body with his drawn sword, and never pierced her skin; whereat he being, as it seems, much confounded, went away and left her." A like story comes from the other side: "At the taking of the Newry a rebel being appointed to be shot upon the bridge, and stripped stark-naked, notwithstanding the musketeer stood within two yards of him, and shot him in the middle of the back, yet the bullet entered not, nor did him any more hurt than leave a little black spot behind it. This many hundreds were eye-witnesses of. Divers of the like have I confidently been assured of, who have been provided of diabolical charms."[28] Similar tales of persons bearing charmed lives could no doubt be culled from the records of every war that has been fought on this planet of ours since History began.

   The ease with which the accidental or unusual was transformed into the miraculous at this period is shown by the following. A Dr. Tate and his wife and children were flying to Dublin from the insurgents. On their way they were wandering over commons covered with snow, without any food. The wife was carrying a sucking child, John, and having no milk to give it she was about to lay it down in despair, when suddenly "on the Brow of a Bank she found a Suck-bottle with sweet milk in it, no Footsteps appearing in the snow of any that should bring it thither, and far from any Habitation; which preserved the child's life, who after became a Blessing to the Church." The Dr. Tate mentioned above was evidently the Rev. Faithful Tate, D.D., father of Nahum Tate of "Tate and Brady" fame.[29]

   Project Gutenberg #43651, Chapter 5

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere close to Virginia, the Reverend George Creighton, minister of this place, told a story of a young woman's strange survival. Divers women brought to his house a young woman, almost naked. A rogue had come upon her on the way, while these women were present, and required her to give him her money, or else he would kill her, and so drew his sword. Her answer was:

7. A Man's Deafness Brings Strange Knowledge in Ulster

   near Bangor · townland · Down

   A godly man in the north of Ireland fell suddenly dumb and deaf while sleeping in a field, and during this state gained strange knowledge of things he communicated by signs. When prayer restored his speech and hearing, the knowledge left him, and he could not explain how he had possessed it.

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   A tale slightly resembling portion of the above comes from the north of Ireland a few years later. "It's storied, and the story is true," says Robert Law in his _Memorialls_,[23] "of a godly man in Ireland, who lying one day in the fields sleeping, he was struck with dumbness and deafness. The same man, during this condition he was in, could tell things, and had the knowledge of things in a strange way, which he had not before; and did, indeed, by signs make things known to others which they knew not. Afterwards he at length, prayer being made for him by others, came to the use of his tongue and ears; but when that knowledge of things he had in his deaf and dumb condition ceased, and when he was asked how he had the knowledge of these things he made signs of, he answered he had that knowledge when dumb, but how and after what manner he knew not, only he had the impression thereof in his spirit. This story was related by a godly minister, Mr. Robert Blair, to Mr. John Baird, who knew the truth of it."

   The Rev. Robert Blair, M.A., was a celebrated man, if for no other reason than on account of his disputes with Dr. Echlin, Bishop of Down, or for his description of Oliver Cromwell as a _greeting_ (_i.e._ weeping) devil. On the invitation of Lord Claneboy he arrived in Ireland in 1623, and in the same year was settled as (Presbyterian) parish minister at Bangor in Co. Down, with the consent of patron and people; he remained there until 1631, when he was suspended by Dr. Echlin, and was deposed and excommunicated in November, 1634. He has left a few writings behind him, and was grandfather of the poet Robert Blair, author of _The Grave_.[24]

   Project Gutenberg #43651, Chapter 5

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere around here in Bangor, a strange thing happened to a godly man, and the story comes down through a minister who lived in this place. Robert Blair arrived in Ireland in 1623, invited by Lord Claneboy, and that same year he was settled as parish minister at Bangor in County Down, with the consent of patron and people. He stayed until 1631, when he was suspended by Dr. Echlin, Bishop of Down, and then deposed and excommunicated in November 1634. He was a celebrated man, known for his disputes with the bishop and for calling Oliver Cromwell a weeping devil. He was grandfather of the poet Robert Blair, who wrote The Grave. But it is another story Blair told that belongs here. Robert Law records it in his Memorialls, and says, the story is true. A godly man in Ireland lay one day in the fields sleeping, and was struck with dumbness and deafness. While he was in that condition, he could tell things and had knowledge of things in a strange way, which he had not had before. He made signs to others, making known to them things they did not know. Prayer was made for him by others, and at length he came back to the use of his tongue and ears. But when that left him, and he was asked how he had the knowledge of the things he had made signs of, he answered that he had that knowledge when he was dumb, but how and in what manner he knew not. He said he only had the impression of it in his spirit. Blair related this story to Mr. John Baird, who knew the truth of it.