Thursday 3 March 2016

DÆMONOLOGIE


"I'm all I wanna be,
A walking study in demonology"

- Courtney Love 





"Come, let me clutch thee. 

I have theen not, and yet I see thee still. 

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feeling as to sight? 

Or art thou but a dagger of the mind, a false creation, proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?"


DÆMONOLOGIE

by KING JAMES the FIRST

(1597)

and

NEWES FROM SCOTLAND

(1591)
declaring the Damnable Life and death of Doctor FIAN, a notable Sorcerer who was burned at Edenbrough in January last.

from ELIZABETHAN AND JACOBEAN QUARTOS
EDITED BY G. B. HARRISON
{verso}
from the series BODLEY HEAD QUARTOS published by John Lane, The Bodley Head Ltd., London between 1922 and 1926
{Scanned at sacred-texts.com, November 2001. The pagination is that of the Bodley Head edition. Word breaks between pages and typographical errors have been preserved. The letter 'o tilde' is written o~. The original 16th Century spelling has been retained throughout.--jbh.}

NOTE

THE ORIGINAL of this text is in the Bodleian Library (Douce. I. 230, which, however, lacks pp. 9 and 10; these have been taken from 'Wood B21'). The text (not the Preface) is reprinted line for line and page for page; pages are numbered as in the original. The few corrections which I have made are noted on p. 82.
G. B. H.
{p. v}




INTRODUCTION

THE Dæmonologie of King James, the Sixth of Scotland and First of England, was written, as the Royal author states in his Preface, to prove that 'the assautes of Sathan are most certainly practized, & that the instrumentes thereof, merits most severly to be punished.' Such a work has more than a passing interest. It gives the student of history and literature a brief and authoritative guide to the darker beliefs of our ancestors; there is, too, much to interest the theologian and the psychologist, whilst the philologist will find the book a mine of rare and curious phrases.
To the modern mind, after three centuries of scientific discovery, many of Epistemon's arguments will appear somewhat naïve, and, it must be confessed, that Philomathes, in his laudable efforts to draw out his companion's erudition, sometimes puts questions which are very inadequately answered. Our greater discernment and weaker faith will scarcely be convinced by the example: 'Thirdly, said not Samuell to Saull, that disobedience is as the sinne of Witch-craft? To compare to a thing that were not, it were too too absurd.' Still, given the implicit
{p. iv}
belief, the conclusions are not illogical. King James makes many shrewd observations, and the twentieth-century medium would probably confirm 'that there are twentie women giuen to that craft, where ther is one man.' The explanation (given on pp. 43-4) would not, perhaps, be as readily accepted.
The Newes from Scotland, which is also included in this volume of the Bodley Head Quartos, claims to give a true account of a very notable witch trial wherein King James took a prominent part. The influence of the 'revelations' then made can clearly be seen in the Dæmonologie. Although at first sight the cruelty and barbarity of the whole business is revolting, it must not be put down as solely due to panic and terror. These poor women when their heads were 'thrawen with a rope according to the custom of that Country' were ready to confess anything, but the credulity of the judges was understandable after Agnis Sampson had drawn the King aside and 'declared vnto him the verye woordes which passed betweene the Kings Maiestie and his Queene at Vpslo in Norway the first night of their marriage, with their answere each to other.' Even a stouter hearted scholar would have found remarkable confirmation of his worst fears in this alarming revelation. Moreover, in destroying the Devil's ministers the King really thought that he was only carrying out his plain duty towards God.
Of King James himself one of the most vivid accounts is to be found in a letter of Sir John
{p. vii}
Harrington, describing an audience which he had with the King. 'Soon upon this, the Prince his Highnesse did enter, and in muche goode humour askede, "If I was cosen to lorde Haryngton of Exton?" I humblie repliede,--"His Majestie did me some honour in enquiringe my kin to one whome he had so late honourede and made a barone;" and moreover did adde, "wee were bothe branches of the same tree." The he enquyrede muche of lernynge, and showede me his owne in suche sorte, as made me remember my examiner at Cambridge aforetyme. He soughte muche to knowe my advances in philosophie, and utterede profounde sentences of Aristotle, and suche lyke wryters, whiche I had never reade, and which some are bolde enoughe to saye, others do not understand: but this I must passe by. The Prince did nowe presse my readinge to him parte of a canto in "Ariosto"; praysede my utterance, and said he had been informede of manie, as to my lernynge, in the tyme of the Queene. He asked me "what I thought pure witte was made of; and whom it did best become? Whether a Kynge should not be the best clerke in his owne countrie; and, if this lande did not entertayne goode opinion of his lernynge and wisdome?" His Majestie did much presse for my opinion touchinge the power of Satane in matter of witchcraft; and asked me, with much gravitie,--"if I did trulie understande, why the devil did worke more with anciente women than others?"' . .
'More serious discourse did next ensue, wherein I wantede roome to continue, and sometime roome to
{p. viii}
escape; for the Queene was not forgotten, nor Davison neither. His Highnesse tolde me her deathe was visible in Scotlande before it did really happen, being, as he said, "spoken of in secrete by those whose power of sighte presentede to them a bloodie heade dancinge in the aire." He then did remarke muche on this gifte, and saide he had soughte out of certaine bookes a sure waie to attaine knowledge of future chances. Hereat, he namede many bookes, which I did not knowe, nor by whom written; but advisede me not to consult some authors which woulde leade me to evile consultations. I tolde his Majestie, "the power of Satan had, I muche fearede, damagede my bodilie frame; but I had not farther will to cowrte his friendshipe, for my soules hurt."--We nexte discoursede somewhat on religion, when at lengthe he saide: "Now, Sir, you have seen my wisdome in some sorte, and I have pried into yours. I praye you, do me justice in your reporte, and in good season, I will not fail to add to your understandinge, in suche pointes as I maye find you lacke amendmente." I made courtesie hereat, and withdrewe downe the passage, and out at the gate, amidst the manie varlets and lordlie servantes who stoode arounde.'[1]
G. B. HARRISON.

[1. Nugae Antiquae, i 367.]

{p. ix}

DÆMONOLOGIE,

IN FORME

of a Dialogue,

Diuided into three Bookes.

EDINBVRGH

Printed by Robert Walde-graue

Printer to the Kings Majestie. An. 1597
Cum Privilegio Regio
{original title page}
{p. x}
{p. xi}




THE PREFACE

to the Reader.

THE fearefull aboundinge at this time in this countrie, of these detestable slaues of the Deuill, the Witches or enchaunters, hath moved me (beloued reader) to dispatch in post, this following treatise of mine, not in any wise (as I protest) to serue for a shew of my learning & ingine, but onely (mooued of conscience) to preasse / thereby, so farre as I can, to resolue the doubting harts of many; both that such assaultes of Sathan are most certainly practized, & that the instrumentes thereof, merits most severly to be punished: against the damnable opinions of two principally in our age, wherof the one called SCOT an Englishman, is not ashamed in publike print to deny, that ther can be such a thing as Witch-craft: and so mainteines the old
{p. xii}
error of the Sadducees, in denying of spirits. The other called VVIERVS, a German Phisition, sets out a publick apologie for al these craftesfolkes, whereby, procuring for their impunitie, he plainely bewrayes himselfe to haue bene one of that Profession. And for to make this treatise the more pleasaunt and facill, I haue put it in forme of a Dialogue, which I haue diuided into three bookes: The first spea- / king of Magie in general, and Necromancie in special. The second of Sorcerie and Witch-craft: and the thirde, conteines a discourse of all these kindes of spirits, & Spectres that appeares & trobles persones: together with a conclusion of the whol work. My intention in this labour, is only to proue two things, as I haue alreadie said: the one, that such diuelish artes haue bene and are. The other, what exact trial and seuere punishment they merite: & therefore reason I, what kinde of things are possible to be performed in these arts, & by what naturall causes they may be, not that I touch every particular thing of the Deuils power, for that were infinite: but onelie, to speak scholasticklie, (since this can not bee spoken in our language) I reason vpon genus leauing
{p. xiii}
speciesand differentia to be comprehended therein. / As for example, speaking of the power of Magiciens, in the first book & sixt Chapter: I say, that they can suddenly cause be brought vnto them, all kindes of daintie disshes, by their familiar spirit: Since as a thiefe he delightes to steale, and as a spirite, he can subtillie & suddenlie inough transport the same. Now vnder this genus, may be comprehended al particulars, depending thereupon; Such as the bringing Wine out of a Wall, (as we haue heard oft to haue bene practised) and such others; which particulars, are sufficientlie proved by the reasons of the general. And such like in the second booke of Witch-craft in speciall, and fift Chap. I say and proue by diuerse arguments, that Witches can, by the power of their Master, cure or cast on disseases: Now by these same reasones, that proues their power by the / Deuil of disseases in generall, is aswell proued their power in speciall: as of weakening the nature of some men, to make them vnable for women: and making it to abound in others, more then the ordinary course of nature would permit. And such like in all other particular sicknesses; But one thing I will pray thee
{p. xiv}
to obserue in all these places, where I reason vpon the deuils power, which is the diferent ends & scopes, that God as the first cause, and the Devill as his instrument and second cause shootes at in all these actiones of the Deuil, (as Gods hang-man:) For where the deuilles intention in them is euer to perish, either the soule or the body, or both of them, that he is so permitted to deale with: God by the contrarie, drawes euer out of that euill glorie to himselfe, either by the wracke of the wicked in his justice, or / by the tryall of the patient, and amendment of the faithfull, being wakened vp with that rod of correction. Hauing thus declared vnto thee then, my full intention in this Treatise, thou wilt easelie excuse, I doubt not, aswel my pretermitting, to declare the whole particular rites and secretes of these vnlawfull artes: as also their infinite and wounderfull practises, as being neither of them pertinent to my purpose: the reason whereof, is giuen in the hinder ende of the first Chapter of the thirde booke: and who likes to be curious in these thinges, he may reade, if he will here of their practises, BODINVS Dæmonomanie, collected with greater diligence,
{p. xv}
then written with judgement, together with their confessions, that haue bene at this time apprehened. If he would know what hath bene the opinion of the Aunci- / entes, concerning their power: he shall see it wel descrybed by HYPERIVS, & HEMMINGIVS, two, late Germaine writers: Besides innumerable other neoterick Theologues, that writes largelie vpon that subject: And if he woulde knowe what are the particuler rites, & curiosities of these black arts (which is both vnnecessarie and perilous,) he will finde it in the fourth book of CORNELIVS Agrippa, and in VVIERVS, whomof spak. And so wishing my pains in this Treatise (beloued Reader) to be effectual, in arming al them that reades the same, against these aboue mentioned erroures, and recommending my goodwill to thy friendly acceptation, I bid thee hartely fare-well.
JAMES R.
{p. 1}


DAEMONOLOGIE,

IN FORME

of ane Dialogue

FIRST BOOKE.

CHAP. I. ARGVMENT.

Proven by the Scripture, that these vnlawfull artes in genere, have bene and may be put in practise.
PHILOMATHES and EPISTEMON reason the matter.
PHILOMATHES.
I AM surely verie glad to haue mette with you this daye, for I am of opinion, that ye can better resolue me of some thing, wherof I stand in great doubt, nor anie other whom-with I could haue mette.
EPI. In what I can, that ye like to speir at me, I will willinglie and freelie tell
{p. 2}
my opinion, and if I proue it not sufficiently, I am heartely content that a better reason carie it away then.
PHI. What thinke yee of these strange newes, which now onelie furnishes purpose to al men at their meeting: I meane of these Witches?
EPI. Surelie they are wonderfull: And I think so cleare and plaine confessions in that purpose, haue neuer fallen out in anie age or cuntrey.
PHI. No question if they be true, but thereof the Doctours doubtes.
EPI. What part of it doubt ye of?
PHI. Even of all, for ought I can yet perceaue: and namelie, that there is such a thing as Witchcraft or Witches, and I would pray you to resolue me thereof if ye may: for I haue reasoned with sundrie in that matter, and yet could never be satisfied therein.
EPI. I shall with good will doe the best I can: But I thinke it the difficiller, since ye denie the thing it selfe in generall: for as it is said in the logick schools, Contra negantem principia non est disputandum. Alwaies for that part, that witchcraft, and Witches haue bene, and are, the former part is clearelie proved b the Scriptures, and the last by dailie experience and confessions.
PHI. I know Yee will alleadge me Saules Pythonisse: but that as appeares will not make much for you.
EPI. Not onlie that place, but divers others: But I marvel why that should not make much for me?
{p. 3}
PHI. The reasones are these, first Yee may consider, that Saul[1] being troubled in spirit, and having fasted long before, as the text testifieth, and being come to a woman that was bruted to have such knowledge, and that to inquire so important news, he having so guiltie a conscience for his hainous offences, and specially, for that same vnlawful curiositie, and horrible defection: and then the woman crying out vpon the suddaine in great admiration, for the vncouth sicht that she alledged to haue sene, discovering him to be the King, thogh disguysed, & denied by him before: it was no wounder I say, that his senses being thus distracted, he could not perceaue hir faining of hir voice, hee being himselfe in an other chalmer, and seeing nothing. Next what could be, or was raised? The spirit of Samuel? Prophane and against all Theologie: the Diuell in his likenes? as vnappeirant, that either God would permit him to come in the shape of his Saintes (for then could neuer the Prophets in those daies haue bene sure, what Spirit spake to them in their visiones) or then that he could fore-tell what was to come there after; for Prophecie proceedeth onelie of G O D: and the Devill hath no knowledge of things to come.
EPI. Yet if Yee will marke the wordes of the text, ye will finde clearely, that Saul saw that apparition: for giving you that Saul was in an other Chalmer, at the making of the circles & conjurationes, needeful for that purpose (as none of that craft will permit any vthers to behold at that time)
[1. 1. Sam. 28.]
{p. 4}
yet it is evident by the text, that how sone that once that vnclean spirit was fully risen, shee called in vpon Saul. For it is saide in the text, that Saule knew him to be Samuel, which coulde not haue bene, by the hearing tell onely of an olde man with an mantil, since there was many mo old men dead in Israel nor Samuel: And the common weid of that whole Cuntrey was mantils. As to the next, that it was not the spirit of Samuel, I grant: In the proving whereof ye neede not to insist, since all Christians of whatso-ever Religion agrees vpon that: and none but either mere ignorants, or Necromanciers or Witches doubtes thereof. And that the Diuel is permitted at som-times to put himself in the liknes of the Saintes, it is plaine in the Scriptures, where it is said, that Sathan can trans-forme himselfe into an Angell of light[1]. Neither could that bring any inconvenient with the visiones of the Prophets, since it is most certaine, that God will not permit him so to deceiue his own: but only such, as first wilfully deceiues them-selves, by running vnto him, whome God then suffers to fall in their owne snares, and justlie permittes them to be illuded with great efficacy of deceit, because they would not beleeue the trueth (as Paul sayth). And as to the diuelles foretelling of things to come, it is true that he knowes not all things future, but yet that he knowes parte, the Tragicall event of this historie declares it, (which the wit of woman could never haue fore-spoken) not that he hath any prescience, which is only proper to God: or yet knows anie thing by loking vp-
[1. 2. Cor. 11. 14.]
{p. 5}
on God, as in a mirrour (as the good Angels doe) he being for euer debarred from the fauorable presence & countenance of his creator, but only by one of these two meanes, either as being worldlie wise, and taught by an continuall experience, ever since the creation, judges by likelie-hood of thinges to come, according to the like that hath passed before, and the naturall causes, in respect of the vicissitude of all thinges; worldly: Or else by Gods employing of him in a turne, and so foreseene thereof: as appeares to haue bin in this, whereof we finde the verie like in Micheas propheticque discourse to King Achab[1]. But to prooue this my first proposition, that there can be such a thing as witch-craft, & witches, there are manie mo places in the Scriptures then this (as I said before). As first in the law of God, it is plainely prohibited[2]: But certaine it is, that the Law of God speakes nothing in vaine, nether doth it lay curses, or injoyne punishmentes vpon shaddowes, condemning that to be il, which is not in essence or being as we call it. Secondlie it is plaine, where wicked Pharaohs wise-men imitated ane number of Moses miracles[3], to harden the tyrants heart there by. Thirdly, said not Samuell to Saull, that disobedience is as the sinne of Witch-craft?[4] To compare to a thing that were not, it were too too absurd. Fourthlie, was not Simon Magus, a man of that craft? And fiftlie, what was she that had the spirit of Python?[5] beside innumerable other places that were irkesom to recite.
[1. 1. King. 22.
2. Exod. 22.
3. Exod. 7 & 8.
4. 1. Sam. 15.
5. Acts. 8.
6. Acts 16]
{p. 6}

CHAP. II. ARGV.

What kyndie of sin the practizers of these vnlawfull artes committes. The division of these artes. And quhat are the meanes that allures any to practize them.
PHILOMATHES.
BVT I thinke it very strange, that God should permit anie man-kynde (since they beare his owne Image) to fall in so grosse and filthie a defection.
EPI. Although man in his Creation was made to the Image of the Creator[1], yet through his fall having once lost it, it is but restored againe in a part by grace onelie to the elect: So all the rest falling away from God, are given over in the handes of the Devill that enemie, to beare his Image: and being once so given over, the greatest and the grossest impietie, is the pleasantest, and most delytefull vnto them.
PHI. But may it not suffice him to haue indirectly the rule, and procure the perdition of so manie soules by alluring them to vices, and to the following of their own appetites, suppose he abuse not so many simple soules, in making them directlie acknowledge him for their maister.
EPI. No surelie, for hee vses everie man, whom of he hath the rule, according to their complexion and knowledge: And so whome he findes most simple, he plaineliest discovers himselfe vnto them. For hee beeing the enemie of mans Salvation, vses al the meanes he can to entrappe them so
[1. Gen. 1.]
{p. 7}
farre in his snares, as it may be vnable to them thereafter (suppose they would) to rid themselues out of the same.
PHI. Then this sinne is a sinne against the holie Ghost.
EPI. It is in some, but not in all.
PHI. How that? Are not all these that runnes directlie to the Devill in one Categorie.
EPI. God forbid, for the sin against the holie Ghost hath two branches: The one a falling backe from the whole service of G O D, and a refusall of all his preceptes. The other is the doing of the first with knowledge, knowing that they doe wrong against their own conscience, and the testimonie of the holie Spirit, having once had a tast of the sweetnes of Gods mercies[1]. Now in the first of these two, all sortes of Necromancers, Enchanters or Witches, ar comprehended: but in the last, none but such as erres with this knowledge that I haue spoken of.
PHI Then it appeares that there are more sortes nor one, that are directlie professors of his service: and if so be, I pray you tell me how manie, and what are they?
EPI. There are principallie two sortes, wherevnto all the partes of that vnhappie arte are redacted; whereof the one is called Magie or Necromancie, the other Sorcerie or Witch-craft.
PHI. What I pray you? and how manie are the meanes, whereby the Devill allures persones in anie of these snares?
[1. Heb. 6.]
{p. 8}
EPI. Even by these three passiones that are within our selues: Curiositie in great ingines: thrist of revenge, for some tortes deeply apprehended: or greedie appetite of geare, caused through great pouerty. As to the first of these, Curiosity, it is onelie the inticement of Magiciens, or Necromanciers: and the other two are the allureres of the Sorcerers, or Witches, for that olde and craftie Serpent, being a spirite, hee easilie spyes our affections, and so conformes himselfe thereto, to deceaue vs to our wracke.

CHAP. III ARGV.

The significations and Etymologies of the words of Magie and Necromancie. The difference betuixt Necromancie and Witch-craft: What are the entressis, and beginninges, that brings anie to the knowledge thereof.
PHILOMATHES.
I Would gladlie first heare, what thing is it that ye call Magie or Necromancie.
EPI. This worde Magie in the Persian toung, importes as muche as to be ane contemplator or Interpretour of Divine and heavenlie sciences: which being first vsed amongs the Chaldees, through their ignorance of the true divinitie, was esteemed and reputed amongst them, as a principall vertue: And therefore, was named vnjustlie with an honorable stile, which name the Greekes imitated, generally importing all these kindes of vnlawfull artes.
{p. 9}
And this word Necromancie is a Greek word, compounded of {Greek Nekrwn} & {Greek manteia}, which is to say, the Prophecie by the dead. This last name is given, to this black & vnlawfull science by the figure Synedoche, because it is a principal part of that art, to serue them selues with dead carcages in their diuinations.
PHI. What difference is there betwixt this arte, and Witch-craft.
EPI. Surelie, the difference vulgare put betwixt them, is verrie merrie, and in a maner true; for they say, that the Witches ar servantes onelie, and slaues to the Devil; but the Necromanciers are his maisters and commanders.
PHI. How can that be true, yt any men being specially adicted to his service, can be his co~manders?
EPI. Yea, they may be: but it is onelie secundum quid: For it is not by anie power that they can haue over him, but ex pacto allanerlie: whereby he oblices himself in some trifles to them, that he may on the other part obteine the fruition of their body & soule. which is the onlie thing he huntes for.
PHI. An verie in-æquitable contract forsooth: But I pray you discourse vnto mee, what is the effect and secreets of that arte?
EPI. That is over large an fielde ye giue mee: yet I shall doe good-will, the most summarlie that I can, to runne through the principal points thereof. As there are two sorts of folkes, that may be entysed to this arte, to wit, learned or vnlearned: so is there two meanes, which are the first steerers vp & feeders of their curiositie, thereby to make them
{p. 10}
to giue themselves over to the same: Which two meanes, I call the Divels schoole, and his rudimentes. The learned haue their curiositie wakened vppe; and fedde by that which I call his schoole: this is the Astrologie judiciar. For divers men having attained to a great perfection in learning, & yet remaining overbare (alas) of the spirit of regeneration and frutes thereof: finding all naturall thinges common, aswell to the stupide pedants as vnto them, they assaie to vendicate vnto them a greater name. by not onlie knowing the course of things heavenlie, but likewise to clim to the knowledge of things to come thereby. Which, at the first face appearing lawfull vnto them, in respect the ground therof seemeth to proceed of naturall causes onelie: they are so allured thereby, that finding their practize to prooue true in sundry things, they studie to know the cause thereof: and so mounting from degree to degree, vpon the slipperie and vncertaine scale of curiositie; they are at last entised, that where lawfull artes or sciences failes, to satisfie their restles mindes, even to seeke to that black and vnlawfull science of Magie. Where, finding at the first. that such diuers formes of circles & conjurations rightlie joyned thereunto, will raise such divers formes of spirites, to resolue them of their doubts: and attributing the doing thereof, to the power inseparablie tyed, or inherent in the circles: and manie words of God, confusedlie wrapped in; they blindlie glorie of themselves, as if they had by their quicknes of ingine, made a conquest of Plutoes
{p. 11}
dominion, and were become Emperours over the Stygian habitacles. Where, in the meane time (miserable wretches) they are become in verie deede, bond-slaues to their mortall enemie: and their knowledge, for all that they presume thereof, is nothing increased, except in knowing evill, and the horrors of Hell for punishment thereof, as Adams[1] was by the eating of the forbidden tree.

CHAP. IIII. ARGV.

The Description of the Rudiments and Schoole, which are the entresses to the arte of Magie: And in speciall the differences betwixt Astronomie and Astrologie: Diuision of Astrologie in diuers partes.
PHILOMATHES.
BVt I pray you likewise forget not to tell what are the Deuilles rudimentes.
EPI. His rudimentes, I call first in generall, all that which is called vulgarly the vertue of worde, herbe, & stone: which is vsed by vnlawful charmes, without naturall causes. As likewise all kinde of practicques, freites, or other like extraordinarie actiones, which cannot abide the true toutche of naturall reason.
PHI. I would haue you to make that playner, by some particular examples; for your proposition is verie generall.
EPI. I meane either by such kinde of Charmes as commonlie dafte wiues vses, for healing of forspoken goodes, for preseruing them from euill
[1. Gen. 3]
{p. 12}
eyes, by knitting roun-trees, or sundriest kinde of herbes, to the haire or tailes of the goodes: By curing the Worme, by stemming of blood, by healing of Horse-crookes, by turning of the riddle, or doing of such like innumerable things by wordes, without applying anie thing, meete to the part offended, as Mediciners doe; Or else by staying maried folkes, to haue naturallie adoe with other, (by knitting so manie knottes vpon a poynt at the time of their mariage) And such-like things, which men vses to practise in their merrinesse: For fra vnlearned men (being naturallie curious, and lacking the true knowledge of God) findes these practises to prooue true, as sundrie of them will doe, by the power of the Devill for deceauing men, and not by anie inherent vertue in these vaine wordes and freites; & being desirous to winne a reputation to themselues in such-like turnes, they either (if they be of the shamefaster sorte) seeke to bee learned by some that are experimented in that Arte, (not knowing it to be euill at the first) or else being of the grosser sorte, runnes directlie to the Deuill for ambition or desire of gaine, and plainelie contractes with him thereupon.
PHI. But me thinkes these meanes which yee call the Schoole and rudimentes of the Deuill, are thinges lawfull, and haue bene approoued for such in all times and ages: As in special, this science of Astrologie, which is one of the speciall members of the Mathematicques.
EPI. There are two thinges which the learned
{p. 13}
haue obserued from the beginning, in the science of the Heauenlie Creatures, the Planets, Starres, and such like: The one is their course and ordinary motiones, which for that cause is called Astronomia: Which word is a compound of {Greek nomos} & {Greek asterwn} that is to say, the law of the Starres: And this arte indeed is one of the members of the Mathematicques, & not onelie lawful, but most necessarie and commendable. The other is called Astrologia, being compounded of {Greek asterwn} & {Greek logos} which is to say, the word, and preaching of the starres: Which is deuided in two partes: The first by knowing thereby the powers of simples, and sickenesses, the course of the seasons and the weather, being ruled by their influence; which part depending vpon the former, although it be not of it selfe a parte of Mathematicques: yet it is not vnlawful, being moderatlie vsed, suppose not so necessarie and commendable as the former. The second part is to truste so much to their influences, as thereby to fore-tell what common-weales shall florish or decay: what, persones shall be fortunate or vnfortunate: what side shall winne in anie battell: What man shall obteine victorie at singular combate: What way, and of what age shall men die: What horse shall winne at matche-running; and diuerse such like incredible things, wherein CardanusCornelius Agrippa, and diuerse others haue more curiouslie then profitably written at large. Of this roote last spoken of, springs innumerable branches; such as the knowledge by the natiuities; the Cheiromancie,
{p. 14}
Geomantie, Hydromantie, Arithmantie, Physiognomie: & a thousand others: which were much practised, & holden in great reuerence by the Gentlesof olde. And this last part of Astrologie whereof I haue spoken, which is the root of their branches, was called by them pars fortunæ. This parte now is vtterlie vnlawful to be trusted in, or practized amongst christians, as leaning to no ground of natural reason: & it is this part which I called before the deuils schole.
PHI. But yet manie of the learned are of the contrarie opinion.
EPI. I grant, yet I could giue my reasons to fortifie & maintaine my opinion, if to enter into this disputation it wold not draw me quite off the ground of our discours; besides the mis-spending of the whole daie thereupon: One word onely I will answer to them, & that in the Scriptures (which must be an infallible ground to all true Christians) That in the Prophet Ieremie[1] it is plainelie forbidden, to beleeue or hearken vnto them that Prophecies & fore-speakes by the course of the Planets & Starres.

CHAP. V. ARGV.

How farre the vsing of Charmes is lawfull or vnlawfull: The description of the formes of Circkles and Coniurationes. And what causeth the Magicianes themselues to wearie thereof.
PHILOMATHES.
WELL, Ye haue said far inough in that argument. But how prooue ye now that these
[1. Ierem. 10]
{p. 15}
charmes or vnnaturall practicques are vnlawfull: For so, many honest & merrie men & women haue publicklie practized some of them, that I thinke if ye would accuse them al of Witch-craft, ye would affirme more nor ye will be beleeued in.
EPI. I see if you had taken good tent (to the nature of that word, whereby I named it,) ye would not haue bene in this doubt, nor mistaken me, so farre as ye haue done: For although, as none can be schollers in a schole, & not be subject to the master thereof: so none can studie and put in practize (for studie the alone, and knowledge, is more perilous nor offensiue; and it is the practise only that makes the greatnes of the offence.) The cirkles and art of Magie, without committing an horrible defection from God: And yet as they that reades and learnes their rudiments, are not the more subject to anie schoole-master, if it please not their parentes to put them to the schoole thereafter; So they who ignorantly proues these practicques, which I cal the deuilles rudiments, vnknowing them to be baites, casten out by him, for trapping such as God will permit to fall in his hands: This kinde of folkes I saie, no doubt, ar to be judged the best of, in respect they vse no invocation nor help of him (by their knowledge at least) in these turnes, and so haue neuer entred themselues in Sathans seruice; Yet to speake truely for my owne part (I speake but for my selfe) I desire not to make so neere riding: For in my opinion our enemie is ouer craftie, and we ouer weake (except the greater grace of God) to assay such hazards, wherein he preases to trap vs.
{p. 16}
PHI. Ye haue reason forsooth; for as the common Prouerbe saith: They that suppe keile with the Deuill, haue neede of long spoones. But now I praie you goe forwarde in the describing of this arte of Magie.
EPI. Fra they bee come once vnto this perfection in euill, in hauing any knowledge (whether learned or vnlearned) of this black art: they then beginne to be wearie of the raising of their Maister, by conjured circkles; being both so difficile and perilous, and so commeth plainelie to a contract with him, wherein is speciallie conteined formes and effectes.
PHI. But I praye you or euer you goe further, discourse me some-what of their circkles and conjurationes; And what should be the cause of their wearying thereof: For it should seeme that that forme should be lesse fearefull yet, than the direct haunting and societie, with that foule and vncleane Spirite.
EPI. I thinke ye take me to be a Witch my selfe, or at the least would faine sweare your selfe prentise to that craft: Alwaies as I may, I shall shortlie satisfie you, in that kinde of conjurations, which are conteined in such bookes, which I call the Deuilles Schoole: There are foure principall partes; the persons of the conjurers; the action of the conjuration; the wordes and rites vsed to that effect; and the Spirites that are conjured. Ye must first remember to laye the ground, that I tould you before: which is, that it is no power inherent in the
{p. 17}
circles, or in the holines of the names of God blasphemouslie vsed: nor in whatsoeuer rites or ceremonies at that time vsed, that either can raise any infernall spirit, or yet limitat him perforce within or without these circles. For it is he onelie, the father of all lyes, who hauing first of all prescribed that forme of doing, feining himselfe to he cornmanded & restreined thereby, wil be loath to passe the boundes of these injunctiones; aswell thereby to make them glory in the impiring ouer him (as I saide before:) As likewise to make himselfe so to be trusted in these little thinges, that he may haue the better commoditie thereafter, to deceiue them in the end with a tricke once for all; I meane the euerlasting perdition of their soul & body. Then laying this ground, as I haue said, these conjurationes must haue few or mo in number of the persones conjurers (alwaies passing the singuler number) according to the qualitie of the circle, and forme of apparition. Two principall thinges cannot well in that errand be wanted: holie-water (whereby the Deuill mockes the Papistes) and some present of a liuing thing vnto him. There ar likewise certaine seasons, dayes and houres, that they obserue in this purpose: These things being all readie, and prepared, circles are made triangular, quadrangular, round, double or single, according to the forme of apparition that they craue. But to speake of the diuerse formes of the circles, of the innumerable characters and crosses that are within and without, and out-through the same, of the diuers formes of
{p. 18}
apparitiones, that that craftie spirit illudes them with, and of all such particulars in that action, I remit it to ouer-manie that haue busied their heades in describing of the same; as being but curious, and altogether vnprofitable. And this farre onelie I touch, that when the conjured Spirit appeares, which will not be while after manie circumstances, long praiers, and much muttring and murmuring of the conjurers; like a Papist priest, dispatching a hunting Masse: how sone I say, he appeares, if they haue missed one iote of all their rites; or if any of their feete once slyd ouer the circle through terror of his feareful apparition, he payes himselfe at that time in his owne hande, of that due debt which they ought him;, and other-wise would haue delayed longer to haue payed him: I meane hee carries them with him bodie and soule. If this be not now a just cause to make them wearie of these formes of conjuration, I leaue it to you to judge vpon; considering the long-somenesse of the labour, the precise keeping of dayes and houres (as I haue said) The terriblenesse of apparition, and the present perrell that they stande in, in missing the least circumstance or freite, that they ought to obserue: And on the other parte, the Deuil is glad to mooue them to a plaine and square dealing with him as I said before.
{p. 19}

CHAP. VI ARGV.

The Deuilles contract with the Magicians: The diuision thereof in two partes: What is the difference betwixt Gods miracles and the Deuils.
PHILOMATHES.
INdeede there is cause inough, but rather to leaue him at all, then to runne more plainlie to him, if they were wise he delt with. But goe forwarde now I pray you to these turnes, fra they become once deacons in this craft.
EPI. From time that they once plainelie begin to contract with him: The effect of their contract consistes in two thinges; in formes and effectes, as I be gan to tell alreadie, were it not yee interrupted me (for although the contract be mutuall; I speake first of that part, wherein the Deuill oblishes himselfe to them) by formes, I meane in what shape or fashion he shall come vnto them, when they call vpon him. And by effectes, I vnderstand, in what special sorts of seruices he bindes himselfe to be subject vnto them. The qualitie of these formes and effectes, is lesse or greater, according to the skil and art of the Magician. For as to the formes, to some of the baser sorte of them he oblishes him selfe to appeare at their calling vpon him, by such a proper name which he shewes vnto them, either in likenes of a dog, a Catte, an Ape, or such-like other beast; or else to answere by a voyce onlie. The effects are to answere to such demands, as concernes curing of disseases, their own particular menagery: or such other base things as they require of him.
{p. 20}
But to the most curious sorte, in the formes he will oblish himselfe, to enter in a dead bodie, and there out of to giue such answers, of the euent of battels, of maters concerning the estate of commonwelths, and such like other great questions: yea, to some he will be a continuall attender, in forme of a Page: He will permit himselfe to be conjured, for the space of so many yeres, ether in a tablet or a ring, or such like thing, which they may easely carrie about with them: He giues them power to sel such wares to others, whereof some will bee dearer, and some better cheape; according to the lying or true speaking of the Spirit that is conjured therein. Not but that in verie deede, all Devils must be lyars; but so they abuse the simplicitie of these wretches, that becomes their schollers, that they make them beleeue, that at the fall of Lucifer, some Spirites fell in the aire, some in the fire, some in the water, some in the lande: In which Elementes they still remaine. Whereupon they build, that such as fell in the fire, or in the aire, are truer then they, who fell in the water or in the land, which is al but meare trattles, & forged be the author of al deceit. For they fel not be weight, as a solide substance, to stick in any one parte: But the principall part of their fal, consisting in qualitie, by the falling from the grace of God wherein they were created, they continued still thereafter, and shal do while the latter daie, in wandring through the worlde, as Gods hang-men, to execute such turnes as he employes them in. And when anie of them are not occupyed in that, re-
{p. 21}
turne they must to their prison in hel (as it is plaine in the miracle that CHRIST wrought at Gennezareth[1]) therein at the latter daie to be all enclosed for euer: and as they deceiue their schollers in this, so do they, in imprinting in them the opinion that there are so manie Princes, Dukes, and Kinges amongst them, euerie one commanding fewer or mo Legions, and impyring in diuers artes, and quarters of the earth. For though that I will not denie that there be a forme of ordour amongst the Angels in Heauen, and consequentlie, was amongst them before their fall; yet, either that they bruike the same sensine; or that God will permit vs to know by damned Deuils, such heauenlie mysteries of his, which he would not reueale to vs neither by Scripture nor Prophets, I thinke no Christiane will once thinke it. But by the contrarie of all such mysteries, as he hath closed vp with his seale of secrecie; it becommeth vs to be contented with an humble ignorance, they being thinges not necessarie for our saluation. But to returne to the purpose, as these formes, wherein Sathan oblishes himselfe to the greatest of the Magicians, are wounderfull curious; so are the effectes correspondent vnto the same: For he will oblish himselfe to teach them artes and sciences, which he may easelie doe, being so learned a knaue as he is: To carrie them newes from anie parte of the worlde, which the agilitie of a Spirite may easelie performe: to reueale to them the secretes of anie persons, so being they bee once spoken, for the
[1. Mat. 8.]
{p. 22}
thought none knowes but G O D; except so far as yee may ghesse by their countenance, as one who is doubtleslie learned inough in the Physiognomie: Yea, he will make his schollers to creepe in credite with Princes, by fore-telling them manie greate thinges; parte true, parte false: For if all were false, he would tyne credite at all handes; but alwaies doubtsome, as his Oracles were. And he will also make them to please Princes, by faire banquets and daintie dishes, carryed in short space fra the farthest part of the worlde. For no man doubts but he is a thiefe, and his agilitie (as I spake before) makes him to come suche speede. Such-like, he will guard his schollers with faire armies of horse-men and foote-men in appearance, castles and fortes: Which all are but impressiones in the aire, easelie gathered by a spirite, drawing so neare to that substance himselfe: As in like maner he will learne them manie juglarie trickes at Cardes, dice, & such like, to deceiue mennes senses thereby: and such innumerable false practicques; which are prouen by ouer-manie in this age: As they who ar acquainted with that Italian called SCOTO yet liuing, can reporte. And yet are all these thinges but deluding of the senses, and no waies true in substance, as were the false miracles wrought by King Pharaoes Magicians, for counterfeiting Moyses: For that is the difference betuixt Gods myracles and the Deuils, God is a creator, what he makes appeare in miracle, it is so in effect. As Moyses rod being casten downe, was no doubt turned in a natural Ser-
{p. 23}
pent: where as the Deuill (as Gods Ape) counterfetting that by his Magicians, maid their wandes to appeare so, onelie to mennes outward senses: as kythed in effect by their being deuoured by the other. For it is no wonder, that the Deuill may delude our senses, since we see by common proofe, that simple juglars will make an hundreth thinges seeme both to our eies and eares otherwaies then they are. Now as to the Magicians parte of the contract, it is in a word that thing, which I said before, the Deuill hunts for in all men.
PHI. Surelie ye haue said much to me in this arte, if all that ye haue said be as true as wounderfull.
EPI. For the trueth in these actiones, it will be easelie confirmed, to anie that pleases to take paine vpon the reading of diuerse authenticque histories, and the inquiring of daily experiences. And as for the trueth of their possibilitie, that they may be, and in what maner, I trust I haue alleaged nothing whereunto I haue not joyned such probable reasons, as I leaue to your discretion, to waie and consider: One word onlie I omitted; concerning the forme of making of this contract, which is either written with the Magicians owne bloud: or else being agreed vpon (in termes his schole-master) touches him in some parte, though peraduenture no marke remaine: as it doth with all Witches.
{p. 24}

CHAP. VII. ARGV.

The reason why the art of Magie is vnlawfull. What punishment they merite: And who may he accounted guiltie of that crime.
PHILOMATHES.
SVRELIE Ye haue made this arte to appeare verie monstruous & detestable. But what I pray you shall be said to such as mainteines this art to be lawfull, for as euill as you haue made it?
EPI. I say, they sauour of the panne them selues, or at least little better, And yet I would be glad to heare their reasons.
PHI. There are two principallie, that euer I heard vsed; beside that which is founded vpon the co~mon Prouerb (that the Necromancers commands the Deuill, which ye haue already refuted) The one is grounded vpon a receiued custome: The other vpon an authoritie, which some thinkes infallible. Vpon custome, we see that diuerse Christian Princes and Magistrates seuere punishers of Witches, will not onelie ouer-see Magicians to liue within their dominions; but euen some-times delight to see them prooue some of their practicques. The other reason is, that Moyses being brought vp (as it is expreslie said in the Scriptures) in all the sciences of the AEgyptians; whereof no doubt, this was one of the principalles. And he notwithstanding of this arte, pleasing God, as he did, consequentlie that art professed by so godlie a man, coulde not be vnlawfull.
{p. 25}
EPI. As to the first of your reasones, grounded vpon custome: I saie, an euill custome can neuer be accepted for a good law, for the ouer great ignorance of the worde in some Princes and Magistrates, and the contempt thereof in others, moues them to sinne heavelie against their office in that poynt. As to the other reasone, which seemes to be of greater weight, if it were formed in a Syllogisme; it behooued to be in manie termes, and full of fallacies (to speake in termes of Logicque) for first, that that generall proposition; affirming Moyses to be taught in all the sciences of the AEgyptians, should conclude that he was taught in Magie, I see no necessity. For we must vnderstand that the spirit of God there, speaking of sciences, vnderstandes them that are lawfull; for except they be lawfull, they are but abusiuè called sciences, & are but ignorances indeede: Nam homo pictus, non est homo. Secondlie, giuing that he had bene taught in it, there is great difference, betwixt knowledge and practising of a thing (as I said before) For God knoweth all thinges, being alwaies good, and of our sinne & our infirmitie proceedeth our ignorance. Thirdlie, giuing that he had both studied and practised the same (which is more nor monstruous to be beleeued by any Christian) yet we know well inough, that before that euer the spirite of God began to call Moyses, he was fled out of AEgypt, being fourtie yeares of age, for the slaughter of an AEgyptian, and in his good-father Iethroes lande, first called at the firie bushe, hauing remained there
{p. 26}
other fourtie yeares in exile: so that suppose he had beene the wickeddest man in the worlde before, he then became a changed and regenerat man, and very litle of olde Moyses remained in him. Abraham was an Idolater in Vr of Chaldæa, before he was called: And Paule being called Saule, was a most sharp persecutor of the Saintes of God, while that name was changed.
PHI. What punishment then thinke ye merites these Magicians and Necromancers?
EPI. The like no doubt, that Sorcerers and Witches merites; and rather so much greater, as their error proceedes of the greater knowledge, and so drawes nerer to the sin against the holy Ghost. And as I saye of them, so saye I the like of all such as consults, enquires, entertaines, & ouersees them, which is seene by the miserable endes of many that askes councell of them: For the Deuill hath neuer better tydings to tell to any, then he tolde to Saule: neither is it lawfull to vse so vnlawfull instrumentes, were it neuer for so good a purpose: for that axiome in Theologie is most certaine and infallible: Nunquam faciendum est malum vt bonum inde eueniat.[1]
[1. Ast. 3.]
{p. 27}

THE SECONDE BOOKE

OF Dæmonologie

ARGVMENT.
The description of Sorcerie an Witch-craft in speciall.

CHAP. I. ARGV.

Proued by the Scripture, that such a thing can be: And the reasones refuted of all such as would call it but an imagination and Melancholicque humor.
PHILOMATHES.
NOW Since yee haue satisfied me nowe so fullie, concerning Magie or Necromancie I will pray you to do the like in Sorcerie or Witchcraft.
EPI. That fielde is likewise verie large: and althought in the mouthes; and pennes of manie, yet fewe knowes the trueth thereof, so
{p. 28}
wel as they beleeue themselues, as I shall so shortely as I can, make you (God willing) as easelie to perceiue.
PHI. But I pray you before ye goe further, let mee interrupt you here with a shorte digression: which is, that manie can scarcely beleeue that there is such a thing as Witch-craft. Whose reasons I wil shortely alleage vnto you, that ye may satisfie me as well in that, as ye haue done in the rest. For first, whereas the Scripture seemes to prooue Witchcraft to be, by diuerse examples, and speciallie by sundrie of the same, which ye haue alleaged, it is thought by some, that these places speakes of Magicians and Necromancers onlie, & not of Witches. As in special, these wise men of Pharaohs, that counterfeited Moyses miracles, were Magicians say they, & not Witches: As likewise that Pythonisse that Saul consulted with: And so was Simon Magus in the new Testament, as that very stile importes. Secondlie, where ye would oppone the dailie practicque, & confession of so manie, that is thought likewise to be but verie melancholicque imaginations of simple rauing creatures. Thirdly, if Witches had such power of Witching of folkes to death, (as they say they haue) there had bene none left aliue long sence in the world, but they: at the least, no good or godlie person of whatsoeuer estate, coulde haue escaped their deuilrie.
EPI. Your three reasons as I take, ar grounded the first of them negativè vpon the Scripture: The second affirmativè vpon Physicke: And the thirde
{p. 29}
vpon the certaine proofe of experience. As to your first, it is most true indeede, that all these wise men of Pharaoh were Magicians of art: As likewise it appeares wel that the Pythonisse, with whom Saul consulted, was of that same profession: & so was Simon Magus. But yee omitted to speake of the Lawe of God, wherein are all Magicians, Diuines, Enchanters, Sorcerers, Witches, & whatsouer of that kinde that consultes with the Deuill, plainelie prohibited, and alike threatned against. And besides that, she who had the Spirite of Python, in the Actes[1], whose Spirite was put to silence by the Apostle, coulde be no other thing but a verie Sorcerer or Witch. if ye admit the vulgare distinction, to be in a maner true, whereof I spake in the beginning of our conference. For that spirit whereby she conquested such gaine to her Master, was not at her raising or commanding, as she pleased to appoynt, but spake by her toung, aswel publicklie, as priuatelie: Whereby she seemed to draw nearer to the sort of Demoniakes or possessed, if that conjunction betwixt them, had not bene of her owne consent: as it appeared by her, not being tormented therewith: And by her conquesting of such gaine to her masters (as I haue alreadie said.) As to your second reason grounded vpon Physick, in attributing their confessiones or apprehensiones, to a naturall melancholicque humour: Anie that pleases Physicallie to consider vpon the naturall humour of melancholie, according to all the Physicians, that euer writ thereupon, they sall finde that that will be
[1. Act. 16.]
{p. 30}
ouer short a cloak to couer their knauery with: For as the humor of Melancholic in the selfe is blacke, heauie and terrene, so are the symptomes thereof, in any persones; that are subject therevnto, leannes, palenes, desire of solitude: and if they come to the highest degree therof, mere folie and Manie: where as by the contrarie, a great nomber of them that euer haue bene convict or confessors of Witchcraft, as may be presently scene by manie that haue at this time confessed: they are by the contrarie, I say, some of them rich and worldly-wise, some of them fatte or corpulent in their bodies, and most part of them altogether giuen ouer to the pleasures of the flesh, continual haunting of companie, and all kind of merrines, both lawfull and vnlawfull, which are thinges directly contrary to the symptomes of Melancholie, whereof I spake, and further experience daylie proues how loath they are to confesse without torture, which witnesseth their guiltines, where by the contrary, the Melancholicques neuer spares to bewray themselues, by their continuall discourses, feeding therby their humor in that which they thinke no crime. As to your third reason, it scarselie merites an answere. For if the deuill their master were not bridled, as the scriptures teacheth vs, suppose there were no men nor women to be his instrumentes, he could finde waies inough without anie helpe of others to wrack al mankinde: wherevnto he employes his whole study, and goeth about like a roaring Lyon (as PETER saith)[1] to that effect, but the limites of his power were set down before the
[1. 1. Pet. 5]
{p. 31}
foundations of the world were laid, which he hath not power in the least jote to transgresse. But beside all this, there is ouer greate a certainty to proue that they are, by the daily experience of the harmes that they do, both to men, and whatsoeuer thing men possesses, whome God will permit them to be the instrumentes, so to trouble or visite, as in my discourse of that arte, yee shall heare clearelie proued.

CHAP. II ARGV.

The Etymologie and signification of that word of Sorcerie. The first entresse and prentishippe of them that giues themselues to that craft.
PHILOMATHES.
Come on then I pray you, and returne where ye left.
EPI. This word of Sorcerie is a Latine worde, which is taken from casting of the lot, & therefore he that vseth it, is called Sortiarius à sorte. As to the word of Witchcraft, it is nothing but a proper name giuen in our language. The cause wherefore they were called sortiarij, proceeded of their practicques seeming to come of lot or chance: Such as the turning of the riddle: the knowing of the forme of prayers, or such like tokens: If a person diseased woulde liue or dye. And in generall, that name was giuen them for vsing of such charmes, and freites, as that Crafte teacheth them. Manie poynts of their craft and practicques are common
{p. 32}
betuixt the Magicians and them: for they serue both one Master, althought in diuerse fashions. And as I deuided the Necromancers, into two sorts, learned and vnlearned; so must I denie them in other two, riche and of better accompt, poore and of basser degree. These two degrees now of persones, that practises this craft, answers to the passions in them, which (I told you before) the Deuil vsed as meanes to intyse them to his seruice, for such of them as are in great miserie and pouertie, he allures to follow him, by promising vnto them greate riches, and worldlie commoditie. Such as though riche, yet burnes in a desperat desire of reuenge, hee allures them by promises, to get their turne satisfied to their hartes contentment. It is to be noted nowe, that that olde and craftie enemie of ours, assailes none, though touched with any of these two extremities, except he first finde an entresse reddy for him, either by the great ignorance of the person he deales with, ioyned with an euill life, or else by their carelesnes and contempt of God: And finding them in an vtter despair, for one of these two former causes that I haue spoken of; he prepares the way by feeding them craftely in their humour, and filling them further and further with despaire, while he finde the time proper to discouer himself vnto them. At which time, either vpon their walking solitarie in the fieldes, or else lying pansing in their bed; but alwaies without the company of any other, he either by a voyce, or in likenesse of a man inquires of them, what troubles them: and promi-
{p. 33}
seth them, a suddaine and certaine waie of remedie, vpon condition on the other parte, that they follow his advise; and do such thinges as he wil require of them: Their mindes being prepared before hand, as I haue alreadie spoken, they easelie agreed vnto that demande of his: And syne settes an other tryist, where they may meete againe. At which time, before he proceede any further with them, he first perswades them to addict themselues to his seruice: which being easely obteined, he then discouers what he is vnto them: makes them to renunce their God and Baptisme directlie, and giues them his marke vpon some secreit place of their bodie, which remaines soare vnhealed, while his next meeting with them, and thereafter euer insensible, how soeuer it be nipped or pricked by any, as is dailie proued, to giue them a proofe thereby, that as in that doing, hee could hurte and heale them; so all their ill and well doing thereafter, must depende vpon him. And besides that, the intollerable dolour that they feele in that place, where he hath marked them, serues to waken them, and not to let them rest, while their next meeting againe: fearing least otherwaies they might either forget him, being as new Prentises, and not well inough founded yet, in that fiendlie follie: or else remembring of that horrible promise they made him, at their last meeting, they might skunner at the same, and preasse to call it back. At their thirde meeting, he makes a shew to be carefull, to performe his promises, either by teaching them waies howe to get
{p. 34}
themselues reuenged, if they be of that sort: Or els by teaching them lessons, how by moste vilde and vnlawfull meanes, they may obtaine gaine, and worldlie commoditie, if they be of the other sorte.

CHAP. III. ARGV.

The Witches actiones diuided in two partes. The actiones proper to their owne persones. Their actiones toward others. The forme of their conuentiones, and adoring of their Master.
PHILOMATHES.
YE haue said now inough of their initiating in that ordour. It restes then that ye discourse vpon their practises, fra they be passed Prentises: for I would faine heare what is possible to them to performe in verie deede. Although they serue a common Master with the Necromancers, (as I haue before saide) yet serue they him in an other forme. For as the meanes are diuerse, which allures them to these vnlawfull artes of seruing of the Deuill; so by diuerse waies vse they their practises, answering to these meanes, which first the Deuill, vsed as instrumentes in them; though al tending to one end: To wit. the enlargeing of Sathans tyrannie, and crossing of the propagation of the Kingdome of CHRIST, so farre as lyeth in the possibilitie, either of the one or other sorte, or of the Deuill their Master. For where the Magicians, as allured by curiositie, in the most parte of their practises, seekes principallie the satisfying of the same, and to winne to themselues a popular honoure and estimation:
{p. 35}
These Witches on the other parte, being intised ether for the desire of reuenge, or of worldly riches, their whole practises are either to hurte men and their gudes, or what they possesse, for satisfying of their cruell mindes in the former, or else by the wracke in quhatsoeuer sorte, of anie whome God will permitte them to haue power off, to satisfie their greedie desire in the last poynt.
EPI. In two partes their actiones may be diuided; the actiones of their owne persones, and the actiones proceeding from them towardes anie other. And this diuision being wel vnderstood, will easilie resolue you, what is possible to them to doe. For although all that they confesse is no lie vpon their parte, yet doubtlesly in my opinion, a part of it is not indeede, according as they take it to be: And in this I meane by the actiones of their owne persones. For as I said before, speaking of Magie that the Deuill illudes the senses of these schollers of his, in manie thinges, so saye I the like of these Witches.
PHI. Then I pray you, first to speake of that part of their owne persons, and syne ye may come next to their actiones towardes; others.
EPI. To the effect that they may performe such seruices of their false Master, as he employes them in, the deuill as Gods Ape, counterfeites in his seruantes this seruice & forme of adoration, that God prescribed and made his seruantes to practise. For as the seruants of G O D, publicklie vses to conveene for seruing of him, so makes he them in great
{p. 36}
numbers to conveene (though publickly they dare not) for his seruice. As none conueenes to the adoration and worshipping of God, except they be marked with his seale, the Sacrament of Baptisme: So none serues Sathan, and conueenes to the adoring of him, that are not marked with that marke, wherof I alredy spake. As the Minister sent by God, teacheth plainely at the time of their publick conuentions, how to serue him in spirit & truth: so that vncleane spirite, in his owne person teacheth his Disciples, at the time of their conueening, how to worke all kinde of mischiefe: And craues compt of all their horrible and detestable proceedinges passed, for aduancement of his seruice. Yea, that he may the more viuelie counterfeit and scorne God, he oft times makes his slaues to conveene in these verrie places, which are destinat and ordeined for the conveening of the servantes of God (I meane by Churches) But this farre, which I haue yet said, I not onelie take it to be true in their opiniones, but euen so to be indeede. For the forme that he vsed in counterfeiting God amongst the Gentiles, makes me so to thinke: As God spake by his Oracles, spake he not so by his? As G O D had aswell bloudie Sacrifices, as others without bloud, had not he the like? As God had Churches sanctified to his seruice, with Altars, Priests, Sacrifices, Ceremonies and Prayers; had he not the like polluted to his seruice? As God gaue responses by Vrim and Thummim, gaue he not his responses by the intralls of beastes, by the singing of Fowles, and by their
{p. 37}
actiones in the aire? As God by visiones, dreames, and extases reueiled what was to come, and what was his will vnto his scruantes; vsed he not the like meanes to forwarne his slaues of things to come? Yea, euen as God loued cleannes, hated vice, and impuritie, & appoynted punishmentes therefore: vsed he not the like (though falselie I grant, and but in eschewing the lesse inconuenient, to draw them upon a greater) yet dissimuled he not I say, so farre as to appoynt his Priestes to keepe their bodies cleane and vndefiled, before their asking responses of him? And feyned he not God to be a protectour of euerie vertue, and a iust reuenger of the contrarie? This reason then moues me. that as he is that same Deuill; and as craftie nowe as he was then; so wil hee not spare a pertelie in these actiones that I haue spoken of, concerning the witches persones: But further, Witches oft times confesses not only his conueening in the Church with them, but his occupying of the Pulpit: Yea, their forme of adoration, to be the kissing of his hinder partes. Which though it seeme ridiculous, yet may it likewise be true, seeing we reade that in Calicute, he appearing in forme of a Goate-bucke, hath publicklie that vn-honest homage done vnto him, by euerie one of the people: So ambitious is he, and greedie of honour (which procured his fall) that he will euen imitate God in that parte, where it is said, that Moyses could see but the hinder partes of God, for the brightnesse of his glorie:[1] And yet that speache is spoken but {Greek anðrwpwpaðeian}
[1. Exo. 33]
{p. 38}

CHAP. IIII. ARGV.

What are the waies possible, wherby the witches may transport themselues to places far distant. And what ar impossible &mere illusiones of Sathan. And the reasons therof.
PHILOMATHES.
Bvt by what way say they or think ye it possible that they can com to these vnlawful co~uentio~s?
EPI. There is the thing which I esteeme their senses to be deluded in, and though they lye not in confessing of it, because they thinke it to be true, yet not to be so in substance or effect: for they saie, that by diuerse meanes they may conueene, either to the adoring of their Master, or to the putting in practise any seruice of his, committed vnto their charge: one way is natural, which is natural riding, going or sayling, at what houre their Master comes and aduertises them. And this way may be easelie beleued: an other way is some-what more strange: and yet is it possible to be true: which is by being carryed by the force of the Spirite which is their conducter, either aboue the earth or aboue the Sea swiftlie, to the place where they are to meet: which I am perswaded to be likewaies possible, in respect that as Habakkuk was carryed by the Angell in that forme, to the denne where Daniell laie;[1] so thinke I, the Deuill will be reddie to imitate God, as well in that as in other thinges: which is much more possible to him to doe, being a Spirite, then to a mighty winde, being but a naturall meteore, to transporte from one place to an other a solide bodie, as is commonlie and dailie seene in practise: But in this vio-
[1. Apocrypha of Bell and the Dragon.]
{p. 39}
lent forme they cannot be carryed, but a shorte boundes, agreeing with the space that they may reteine their breath: for if it were longer, their breath could not remaine vnextinguished, their bodie being carryed in such a violent & forceable maner, as be example: If one fall off an small height, his life is but in perrell, according to the harde or soft lighting: But if one fall from an high and stay rocke, his breath wilbe forceablie banished from the bodie, before he can win to the earth, as is oft seen by experience. And in this transporting they say themselues, that they are inuisible to anie other, except amongst themselues; which may also be possible in my opinion. For if the deuil may forme what kinde of impressiones he pleases in the aire, as I haue said before, speaking of Magie, why may he not far easilier thicken & obscure so the air, that is next about them by contracting it strait together, that the beames of any other mans eyes, cannot pearce thorow the same, to see them? But the third way of their comming to their conuentions, is, that where in I think them deluded: for some of them sayeth, that being transformed in the likenesse of a little beast or foule, they will come and pearce through whatsoeuer house or Church, though all ordinarie passages be closed, by whatsoeuer open, the aire may enter in at. And some sayeth, that their bodies lying stil as in an extasy, their spirits wil be rauished out of their bodies, & caried to such places. And for verefying therof, wil giue euident tokens, aswel by witnesses that haue seene their body lying senseles
{p. 40}
in the meane time, as by naming persones, whomwith they mette, and giuing tokens quhat purpose was amongst them, whome otherwaies they could not haue knowen: for this forme of journeing, they affirme to vse most, when they are transported from one Countrie to another.
PHI. Surelie I long to heare your owne opinion of this: For they are like old wiues trattles about the fire. The reasons that moues me to thinke that these are meere illusiones, ar these. First for them that are transformed in likenes of beastes or foules, can enter through so narrow passages, although I may easelie beleeue that the Deuill coulde by his woorkemanshippe vpon the aire, make them appeare to be in such formes, either to themselues or to others: Yet how he can contract a solide bodie within so little roome, I thinke it is directlie contrarie to it selfe, for to be made so little, and yet not diminished: To be so straitlie drawen together, and yet feele no paine; I thinke it is so contrarie to the qualitie of a naturall bodie, and so like to the little transubstantiat god in the Papistes Masse, that I can neuer beleeue it. So to haue a quantitie, is so proper to a solide bodie, that as all Philosophers concludes, it cannot be any more without one, then a spirite can haue one. For when PETER came out of the prison, and the doores all locked:[1] It was not by any contracting of his bodie in so little roome: but by the giuing place of the dore, though vn-espyed by the Gaylors. And yet is there no comparison, when this is done, betuixt the power of God, and
[1. Act. 12.]
{p. 41}
of the Deuill. As to their forme of extasie and spirituall transporting, it is certaine the soules going out of the bodie, is the onely difinition of naturall death: and who are once dead, God forbid wee should thinke that it should lie in the power of all the Deuils in Hell, to restore them to their life againe: Although he can put his owne spirite in a dead bodie, which the Necromancers commonlie practise, as yee haue harde. For that is the office properly belonging to God; and besides that, the soule once parting from the bodie, cannot wander anie longer in the worlde, but to the owne resting place must it goe immediatlie, abiding the conjunction of the bodie againe, at the latter daie. And what CHRIST or the Prophets did miraculouslie in this case, it cannot in no Christian mans opinion be maid common with the Deuill. As for anie tokens that they giue for proouing of this, it is verie possible to the Deuils craft, to perswade them to these meanes. For he being a spirite, may hee: not so rauishe their thoughtes, and dull their sences, that their bodie lying as dead, hee may object to their spirites as it were in a dreame, & (as the Poets write of Morpheus) represente such formes of persones, of places, and other circumstances, as he pleases to illude them with? Yea, that he maie deceiue them with the greater efficacie, may hee not at that same instant, by fellow angelles of his, illude such other persones so in that same fashion, whome with he makes them to beleeue that they mette; that all their reportes and tokens, though
{p. 42}
seuerallie examined, may euerie one agree with an other. And that whatsoeuer actiones, either in hurting men or beasts: or whatsoeuer other thing that they falselie imagine, at that time to haue done, may by himselfe or his marrowes, at that same time be done indeede; so as if they would giue for a token of their being rauished at the death of such a person within so shorte space thereafter, whom they beleeue to haue poysoned, or witched at that instante, might hee not at that same houre, haue smitten that same person by the permission of G O D, to the farther deceiuing of them, and to mooue others to beleeue them? And this is surelie the likeliest way, and most according to reason, which my judgement can finde out in this, and whatsoeuer vther vnnaturall poyntes of their confession. And by these meanes shall we saill surelie, betuixt Charybdis and Scylla, in eschewing the not beleeuing of them altogether on the one part, least that drawe vs to the errour that there is no Witches: and on the other parte in beleeuing of it, make vs to eschew the falling into innumerable absurdities, both monstruouslie against all Theologie diuine, and Philosophie humaine.

CHAP. V ARGV.

Witches actiones towardes others. Why there are more women of that craft nor men? What thinges are possible to them to effectuate by the power of their master. The reasons thereof. What is the surest remedie of the harmes done by them.
{p. 43}
PHILOMATHES.
Forsooth your opinion in this, seemes to carrie most reason with it, and sence yee haue ended, then the actions belonging properly to their owne persones: say forwarde now to their actiones vsed towardes others.
EPI. In their actiones vsed towardes others, three thinges ought to be considered: First the maner of their consulting thereupon: Next their part as instrumentes: And last their masters parte, who puts the same in execution. As to their consultationes thereupon, they vse them oftest in the Churches, where they conveene for adoring: at what time their master enquiring at them what they would be at: euerie one of them propones vnto him, what wicked turne they would haue done, either for obteining of riches, or for reuenging them vpon anie whome they haue malice at: who granting their demande, as no doubt willinglie he wil, since it is to doe euill, he teacheth them the means, wherby they may do the same. As for little trifling turnes that women haue ado with, he causeth them to ioynt dead corpses, & to make powders thereof, mixing such other thinges there amongst, as he giues vnto them.
PHI. But before yee goe further, permit mee I pray you to interrupt you one worde, which yee haue put mee in memorie of, by speaking of Women. What can be the cause that there are twentie women giuen to that craft, where ther is one man?
EPI. The reason is easie, for as that sexe
{p. 44}
is frailer then man is, so is it easier to be intrapped in these grosse snares of the Deuill, as was ouer well proued to be true, by the Serpents deceiuing of Eua at the beginning, which makes him the homelier with that sexe sensine.
PHI. Returne now where ye left.
EPI. To some others at these times hee teacheth, how to make Pictures of waxe or clay: That by the rosting thereof, the persones; that they beare the name of, may be continuallie melted or dryed awaie by continuall sicknesse. To some hee giues such stones or poulders, as will helpe to cure or cast on diseases: And to some he teacheth kindes of vncouthe poysons, which Mediciners vnderstandes not (for he is farre cunningner then man in the knowledge of all the occult proprieties of nature) not that anie of these meanes which hee teacheth them (except the poysons which are composed of thinges naturall) can of them selues helpe any thing to these turnes, that they are employed in, but onelie being Gods Ape, as well in that, as in all other thinges. Even as God by his Sacramentes which are earthlie of themselues workes a heavenlie effect, though no waies by any cooperation in them: And as CHRIST by clay & spettle wrought together, opened the eies of the blynd man,[1] suppose there was no vertue in that which he outwardlie applyed, so the Deuill will haue his out-warde meanes to be shewes as it were of his doing, which hath no part of cooperation in his turnes with him, how farre that euer the ignorantes be abused
[1. John. 9.]
{p. 45}
in the contrarie. And as to the effectes of these two former partes, to wit, the consultationes and the outward meanes, they are so wounderfull as I dare not allege anie of them, without ioyning a sufficient reason of the possibilitie thereof. For leauing all the small trifles among wiues, and to speake of the principall poyntes of their craft. For the common trifles thereof, they can do without conuerting well inough by themselues: These principall poyntes I say are these: They can make men or women to loue or hate other, which may be verie possible to the Deuil to effectuat, seing he being a subtile spirite, knowes well inough how to perswade the corrupted affection of them whom God will permit him so to deale with: They can lay the siknesse of one vpon an other, which likewise is verie possible vnto him: For since by Gods permission, he layed siknesse vpon IOB, why may he not farre easilier lay it vpon any other: For as an old practisian, he knowes well inough what humor domines most in anie of vs, and as a spirite hee can subtillie walken vp the same, making it peccant, or to abounde, as he thinkes meete for troubling of vs, when God will so permit him. And for the taking off of it, no doubt he will be glad to reliue such of present paine, as he may thinke by these meanes to perswade to bee catched in his euerlasting snares and fetters. They can be-witch and take the life of men or women, by rosting of the Pictures, as I spake of before, which likewise is verie possible to their Master to performe, for although, (as I saide
{p. 46}
before) that instrumente of waxe haue no vertue in that turne doing, yet may hee not verie well euen by that same measure that his conjured slaues meltes that waxe at the fire, may he not I say at these same times, subtilie as a spirite so weaken and scatter the spirites of life of the patient, as may make him on th'one part, for faintnesse to sweate out the humour of his bodie: And on the other parte, for the not concurrence of these spirites, which causes his digestion, so debilitat his stomak, that his humour radicall continually, sweating out on the one parte, and no new good suck being put in the place thereof, for lack of digestion on the other, hee at last shall vanish awaie, euen as his picture will doe at the fire. And that knauish and cunning woorkeman, by troubling him onely at some times, makes a proportion so neare betuixt the woorking of the one and the other, that both shall ende as it were at one time. They can rayse stormes and tempestes in the aire, either vpon Sea or land, though not vniuersally, but in such a particular place and prescribed boundes, as God will permitte them so to trouble: Which likewise is verie easie to be discerned from anie other naturall tempestes that are meteores, in respect of the suddaine and violent raising thereof, together with the short induring of the same. And this is likewise verie possible to their master to do, he hauing such affinitie with the aire as being a spirite, and hauing such power of the forming and moouing thereof, as ye haue heard me alreadie declare: For
{p. 47}
in the Scripture, that stile of the Prince of the aire is giuen vnto him[1]. They can make folkes to becom phrenticque or Maniacque, which likewise is very possible to their master to do, sence they are but naturall sicknesses: and so he may lay on these kindes, aswell as anie others. They can make spirites either to follow and trouble persones, or haunt certaine houses. and affraie oftentimes the inhabitantes: as hath bene knowen to be done by our Witches at this time. And likewise they can make some to be possessed with spirites, & so to becom verie Dæmoniacques: and this last sorte is verie possible likewise to the Deuill their Master to do, since he may easilie send his owne angells to trouble in what forme he pleases, any whom God wil permit him so to vse.
PHI. But will God permit these wicked instrumentes by the power of the Deuill their master, to trouble by anie of these meanes, anie that beleeues in him?
EPI. No doubt, for there are three kinde of folkes whom God will permit so to be tempted or troubled; the wicked for their horrible sinnes, to punish them in the like measure; The godlie that are sleeping in anie great sinnes or infirmities and weakenesse in faith, to waken them vp the faster by such an vncouth forme: and euen some of the best, that their patience may bee tryed before the world, as IOBs was. For why may not God vse anie kinde of extraordinarie punishment, when it pleases him; as well as the ordinarie roddes of sicknesse or other aduersities.
[1. Ephes. 2]
{p. 48}
PHI. Who then may he free from these Deuilish practises?
EPI. No man ought to presume so far as to promise anie impunitie to himselfe: for God hath before all beginninges preordinated aswell the particular sortes of Plagues as of benefites for euerie man, which in the owne time he ordaines them to be visited with, & yet ought we not to be the more affrayde for that, of any thing that the Deuill and his wicked instrumentes can do against vs.. For we dailie fight against the Deuill in a hundreth other waies: And therefore as a valiant Captaine, affraies no more being at the combat, nor stayes from his purpose for the rummishing shot of a Cannon, nor the small clack of a Pistoler: suppose he be not certaine what may light vpon him; Euen so ought we boldlie to goe forwarde in fighting against the Deuill without anie greater terrour, for these his rarest weapons, nor for the ordinarie whereof wee haue daily the proofe.
PHI. Is it not lawfull then by the helpe of some other Witche to cure the disease that is casten on by that craft?
EPI. No waies lawfull: For I gaue you the reason thereof in that axiome of Theologie, which was the last wordes I spake of Magie
PHI. How then may these diseases he lawfullie cured?
EPI. Onelie by earnest prayer to G O D, by amendement of their liues, and by sharp persewing euerie one, according to his calling of these instru-
{p. 49}
mentes of Sathan, whose punishment to the death will be a salutarie sacrifice for the patient. And this is not onely the lawfull way, but likewise the most sure: For by the Deuils meanes, can neuer the Deuill be casten out,[1] as Christ sayeth. And when such a cure is vsed, it may wel serue for a shorte time, but at the Last, it will doubtleslie tend to the vtter perdition of the patient, both in bodie and soule.

CHAP. VI. ARGV.

What sorte of folkes are least or most subiect to receiue harme by Witchcraft. What power they haue to harme the Magistrate, and vpon what respectes they haue any power in prison: And to what end may or will the Deuill appeare to them therein. Vpon what respectes the Deuill appeires in sundry shapes to sundry of them at any time.
PHILOMATHES.
BVt who dare take vpon him to punish them, if no man can be sure to be free from their vnnaturall inuasiones?
EPI. We ought not the more of that restraine from vertue, that the way wherby we climbe thereunto be straight and perrilous. But besides that, as there is no kinde of persones so subject to receiue harme of them, as these that are of infirme and weake faith (which is the best buckler against such inuasiones:) so haue they so smal power ouer none) as ouer such as zealouslie and earnestlie persewes
[1. Math. 3]
{p. 50}
them, without sparing for anie worldlie respect.
PHI. Then they are like the Pest, which smites these sickarest, that flies it farthest, and apprehends deepliest the perrell thereof.
EPI. It is euen so with them: For neither is it able to them to vse anie false cure vpon a patient, except the patient first beleeue in their power, and so hazard the tinsell of his owne soule, nor yet can they haue lesse power to hurte anie, nor such as contemnes most their doinges, so being it comes of faith, and not of anie vaine arrogancie in themselues.
PHI. But what is their power against the Magistrate?
EPI. Lesse or greater, according as he deales with them. For if he be slouthfull towardes them, God is verie able to make them instrumentes to waken & punish his slouth. But if he be the contrarie, he according to the iust law of God, and allowable law of all Nationes, will be diligent in examining and punishing of them: G O D will not permit their master to trouble or hinder so good a woorke.
PHI. But fra they be once in handes and firmance, haue they anie further power in their craft?
EPI. That is according to the forme of their detention. If they be but apprehended and deteined by anie priuate person, vpon other priuate respectes, their power no doubt either in escaping, or in doing hurte, is no lesse nor euer it was be-
{p. 51}
fore. But if on the other parte, their apprehending and detention be by the lawfull Magistrate, vpon the iust respectes of their guiltinesse in that craft, their power is then no greater then before that euer they medled with their master. For where God beginnes iustlie to strike by his lawfull Lieutennentes, it is not in the Deuilles power to defraude or bereaue him of the office, or effect of his powerfull and reuenging Scepter.
PHI. But will neuer their master come to visite them, fra they be once apprehended and put in firmance?
EPI. That is according to the estaite that these miserable wretches are in: For if they be obstinate in still denying, he will not spare, when he findes time to speake with them, either if he finde them in anie comfort, to fill them more and more with the vaine hope of some maner of reliefe: or else if hee finde them in a deepe dispaire, by all meanes to augment the same, and to perswade them by some extraordinarie meanes to put themselues downe, which verie commonlie they doe. But if they be penitent and confesse, God will not permit him to trouble them anie more with his presence and alurementes.
PHI It is not good vsing his counsell I see then. But I woulde earnestlie know when he appeares to them in Prison, what formes vses he then to take?
EPI. Diuers formes, euen as he vses to do at other times vnto them. For as I told you, speking of Magie,
{p. 52}
lie appeares to that kinde of craftes-men ordinarily in an forme, according as they agree vpon it amongst themselues: Or if they be but prentises, according to the qualitie of their circles or conjurationes: Yet to these capped creatures, he appeares as he pleases, and as he findes meetest for their humors. For euen at their publick conuentiones, he appeares to diuers of them in diuers formes, as we haue found by the difference of their confessiones in that point: For he deluding them with vaine impressiones in the aire, makes himselfe to seeme more terrible to the grosser sorte, that they maie thereby be moued to feare and reuerence him the more: And les monstrous and vncouthlike againe to the craftier sorte, least otherwaies they might sturre and skunner at his vglinesse.
PHI. How can he then be felt. as they confesse they haue done him, if his bodie be but of aire?
EPI. I heare little of that amongst their confessiones, yet may he make himselfe palpable, either by assuming any dead bodie, and vsing the ministrie thereof, or else by deluding as wel their sence of feeling as seeing; which is not impossible to him to doe, since all our senses, as we are so weake, and euen by ordinarie sicknesses will be often times deluded.
PHI. But I would speere one worde further yet, concerning his appearing to them in prison, which is this. May any other that chances to be present at that time in the prison, see him as well as they.
{p. 53}
EPI. Some-times they will, and some-times not, as it pleases God.

CHAP. VII. ARGV.

Two formes of the deuils visible conuersing in the earth, with the reasones wherefore the one of them was communest in the time of Papistrie: And the other sensine. Those that denies the power of the Deuill, denies the power of God, and are guiltie of the errour of the Sadduces.
PHILOMATHES.
HAth the Deuill then power to appeare to any other, except to such as are his sworne disciples: especially since al Oracles, & such like kinds of illusiones were taken awaie and abolished by the cumming Of CHRIST?
EPI. Although it be true indeede, that the brightnesse of the Gospell at his cumming, scaled the cloudes of all these grosse errors in the Gentilisme: yet that these abusing spirites, ceases not sensine at sometimes to appeare, dailie experience teaches vs. Indeede this difference is to be marked betwixt the formes of Sathans conuersing visiblie in the world. For of two different formes thereof, the one of them by the spreading of the Euangell, and conquest of the white horse, in the sixt Chapter of the Reuelation, is much hindred and become rarer there through. This his appearing to any Christians, troubling of them outwardly, or possessing of them constraynedly. The other of them is be-
{p. 54}
become communer and more vsed sensine, I meane by their vnlawfull artes, whereupon our whole purpose hath bene. This we finde by experience in this Ile to be true. For as we know, moe Ghostes and spirites were seene, nor tongue can tell, in the time of blinde Papistrie in these Countries, where now by the contrarie, a man shall scarcely all his time here once of such things. And yet were these vnlawfull artes farre rarer at that time: and neuer were so much harde of, nor so rife as they are now.
PHI. What should be the cause of that?
EPI. The diuerse nature of our sinnes procures at the Iustice of God, diuerse sortes of punishments answering thereunto. And therefore as in the time of Papistrie, our fathers erring grosselie, & through ignorance, that mist of errours ouershaddowed the Deuill to walke the more familiarlie amongst them: And as it were by barnelie and affraying terroures, to mocke and accuse their barnelie erroures. By the contrarie, we now being sounde of Religion, and in our life rebelling to our profession, God iustlie by that sinne of rebellion, as Samuel calleth it, accuseth our life so wilfullie fighting against our profession.
PHI. Since yee are entred now to speake of the appearing of spirites: I would be glad to heare your opinion in that matter. For manie denies that anie such spirites can appeare in these daies as I haue said.
EPI. Doubtleslie who denyeth the power of
{p. 55}
the Deuill, woulde likewise denie the power of God, if they could for shame. For since the Deuill is the verie contrarie opposite to God, there can be no better way to know God, then by the contrarie; as by the ones power (though a creature) to admire the power of the great Creator: by the falshood of the one to considder the trueth of the other, by the injustice of the one, to considder the Iustice of the other: And by the cruelty of the one, to considder the mercifulnesse of the other: And so foorth in all the rest of the essence of God, and qualities of the Deuill. But I feare indeede, there be ouer many Sadduces in this worlde, that denies all kindes of spirites: For convicting of whose errour, there is cause inough if there were no more, that God should permit at sometimes spirits visiblie to kyith.
{p. 56}

THE THIRDE BOOKE

OF Dæmonologie

ARGVMENT.
The description of all these kindes of Spirites that troubles men or women. The conclusion of the whole Dialogue.

CHAP. I. ARGV.

The diuision of spirites in foure principall kindes. The description of the first kinde of them, called Spectra & vmbræ mortuorum. What is the best way to be free of their trouble.
PHILOMATHES.
I Pray you now then go forward in telling what ye thinke fabulous, or may be trowed in that case.
EPI. That kinde of the Deuils conuersing in the earth, may be diuided in foure different kindes, whereby he affrayeth and troubleth the bodies of men: For of the abusing of the soule,
{p. 57}
I haue spoken alreadie. The first is, where spirites troubles some houses or solitarie places: The second, where spirites followes vpon certaine persones, and at diuers houres troubles them: The thirde, when they enter within them and possesse them: The fourth is these kinde of spirites that are called vulgarlie the Fayrie. Of the three former kindes, ye harde alreadie, how they may artificiallie be made by Witch-craft to trouble folke: Now it restes to speake of their naturall comming as it were, and not raysed by Witch-craft. But generally I must for-warne you of one thing before I enter in this purpose: that is, that although in my discourseing of them, I deuyde them in diuers kindes, yee must notwithstanding there of note my Phrase of speaking in that: For doubtleslie they are in effect, but all one kinde of spirites, who for abusing the more of mankinde. takes on these sundrie shapes, and vses diuerse formes of out-ward actiones, as if some were of nature better then other. Nowe I returne to my purpose: As to the first kinde of these spirites, that were called by the auncients by diuers names, according as their actions were. For if they were spirites that haunted some houses, by appearing in diuers and horrible formes, and making greate dinne: they were called Lemures or Spectra. If they appeared in likenesse of anie defunct to some friends of his, they wer called vmbræ mortuorum: And so innumerable stiles they got, according to their actiones, as I haue said alreadie. As we see by experience, how manie stiles they haue gi-
{p. 58}
ven them in our language in the like maner: Of the appearing of these spirites, wee are certified by the Scriptures, where the Prophet ESAY 13. and 34. cap. threatning the destruction of Babell and Edom:[1] declares, that it shal not onlie be wracked, but shall become so greate a solitude, as it shall be the habitackle of Howlettes, and of ZIIM and IIM, which are the proper Hebrewe names for these Spirites. The cause whie they haunte solitarie places, it is by reason, that they may affraie and brangle the more the faith of suche as them alone hauntes such places. For our nature is such, as in companies wee are not so soone mooued to anie such kinde of feare, as being solitare, which the Deuill knowing well inough, hee will not therefore assaile vs but when we are weake: And besides that, G O D will not permit him so to dishonour the societies and companies of Christians, as in publicke times and places to walke visiblie amongst them. On the other parte, when he troubles certaine houses that are dwelt in, it is a sure token either of grosse ignorance, or of some grosse and slanderous sinnes amongst the inhabitantes thereof: which God by that extraordinarie rod punishes.
PHI. But by what way or passage can these Spirites enter in these houses, seeing they alledge that they will enter, Doore and Window being steiked?
EPI. They will choose the passage for their entresse, according to the forme that they are in at
[1. Esay. 13 Iere. 50]
{p. 59}
that time. For if they haue assumed a deade bodie, whereinto they lodge themselues, they can easely inough open without dinne anie Doore or Window, and enter in thereat. And if they enter as a spirite onelie, anie place where the aire may come in at, is large inough an entrie for them: For as I said before, a spirite can occupie no quantitie.
PHI. And will God then permit these wicked spirites to trouble the reste of a dead bodie, before the resurrection thereof? Or if he will so, I thinke it should be of the reprobate onely.
EPI. What more is the reste troubled of a dead bodie, when the Deuill carryes it out of the Graue to serue his turne for a space, nor when the Witches takes it vp and joyntes it, or when as Swine wortes vppe the graues? The rest of them that the Scripture speakes of, is not meaned by a locall remaining continuallie in one place, but by their resting from their trauelles and miseries of this worlde, while their latter conjunction againe with the soule at that time to receaue full glorie in both. And that the Deuill may vse aswell the ministrie of the bodies of the faithfull in these cases, as of the vn-faithfull, there is no inconvenient; for his haunting with their bodies after they are deade, can no-waies defyle them: In respect of the soules absence. And for anie dishonour it can be vnto them, by what reason can it be greater, then the hanging, heading, or many such shameful deaths, that good men will suffer?
{p. 60}
for there is nothing in the bodies of the faithfull, more worthie of honour, or freer from corruption by nature, nor in these of the vnfaithful, while time they be purged and glorified in the latter daie, as is dailie seene by the vilde diseases and corruptions, that the bodies of the faythfull are subject vnto, as yee will see clearelie proued, when I speake of the possessed and Dæmoniacques.
PHI. Yet there are sundrie that affirmes to haue haunted such places, where these spirites are alleaged to be: And coulde neuer heare nor see anie thing.
EPI. I thinke well: For that is onelie reserued to the secreete knowledge of God, whom he wil permit to see such thinges, and whome not.
PHI. But where these spirites hauntes and troubles anie houses, what is the best waie to banishe them?
EPI. By two meanes may onelie the remeid of such things be procured: The one is ardent prayer to God, both of these persones that are troubled with them, and of that Church whereof they are. The other is the purging of themselues by amende ment of life from such sinnes. as haue procured that extraordinarie plague.
PHI. And what meanes then these kindes of spirites, when they appeare in the shaddow of a person newlie dead, or to die, to his friendes?
EPI. When they appeare vpon that occasion, they are called Wraithes in our language. Amongst the Gentiles the Deuill vsed that much, to make
{p. 61}
them beleeue that it was some good spirite that appeared to them then, ether to forewarne them of the death of their friend; or else to discouer vnto them, the will of the defunct, or what was the way of his slauchter, as is written in the booke of the histories Prodigious. And this way hee easelie decciued the Gentiles, because they knew not God: And to that same effect is it, that he now appeares in that maner to some ignorant Christians. For he dare not so illude anie that knoweth that, neither can the spirite of the defunct returne to his friend, or yet an Angell vse such formes.
PHI. And are not our war-woolfes one sorte of these spirits also, that hauntes and troubles some houses or dwelling places?
EPI. There bath indeede bene an old opinion of such like thinges; For by the Greekes they were called {Greek lukanðrwpoi} which signifieth men-woolfes. But to tell you simplie my opinion in this, if anie such thing hath bene, I take it to haue proceeded but of a naturall super-abundance of Melancholie, which as wee reade, that it hath made some thinke themselues Pitchers, and some horses, and some one kinde of beast or other: So suppose I that it hath so viciat the imagination and memorie of some, as per lucida interualla, it hath so highlie occupyed them, that they haue thought themselues verrie Woolfes indeede at these times: and so haue counterfeited their actiones in goeing on their handes and feete, preassing to deuoure women and barnes, fighting and snatching with all the towne
{p. 62}
dogges, and in vsing such like other bruitish actiones, and so to become beastes by a strong apprehension, as Nebucad-netzar was seuen yeares:[1] but as to their hauing and hyding of their hard & schellie sloughes, I take that to be but eiked, by vncertaine report, the author of all lyes.

CHAP. II. ARGV.

The description of the next two kindes of Spirites, whereof the one followes outwardlie, the other possesses inwardlie the persones that they trouble. That since all Prophecies and visiones are nowe ceased, all spirites that appeares in these formes are euill.
PHILOMATHES.
COme forward now to the reste of these kindes of spirites.
EPI. As to the next two kindes. that is, either these that outwardlie troubles and followes some persones, or else inwardlie possesses them: I will conjoyne them in one, because aswel the causes ar alike in the persons that they are permitted to trouble: as also the waies whereby they may be remedied and cured.
PHI. What kinde of persones are they that vses to be so troubled?
EPI. Two kindes in speciall: Either such as being guiltie of greeuous offences, God punishes
[1. Dan. 4.]
{p. 63}
by that horrible kinde of scourdge, or else being persones of the beste nature peraduenture, that yee shall finde in all the Countrie about them, G O D permittes them to be troubled in that sort, for the tryall of their patience, and wakening vp of their zeale, for admonishing of the beholders, not to truste ouer much in themselues, since they are made of no better stuffe, and peraduenture blotted with no smaller sinnes (as CHRIST saide, speaking of them vppon whome the Towre in Siloam fell:)[1] And for giuing likewise to the spectatators, matter to prayse G O D, that they meriting no better, are yet spared from being corrected in that fearefull forme.
PHI. These are good reasones for the parte of G O D, which apparantlie mooues him so to permit the Deuill to trouble such persones. But since the Deuil hath euer a contrarie respecte in all the actiones that G O D employes him in: which is I pray you the end and mark he shoots at in this turne?
EPI. It is to obtaine one of two thinges thereby, if he may: The one is the tinsell of their life, by inducing them to such perrilous places at such time as he either followes or possesses them, which may procure the same: And such like, so farre as G O D will permit him, by tormenting them to weaken their bodie, and caste them in incurable diseases. The other thinge that hee preases to obteine by troubling of them, is the tinsell of their Soule, by intising them to mistruste
[1. Luc. 13.]
{p. 64}
and blaspheme God: Either for the intollerablenesse of their tormentes, as he assayed to haue done with IOB;[1] or else for his promising vnto them to leaue the troubling of them, incase they would so do, as is knowen by experience at this same time by the confession of a young one that was so troubled.
PHI. Since ye haue spoken now of both these kindes of spirites comprehending them in one: I must nowe goe backe againe in speering some questions of euerie one of these kindes in speciall. And first for these that followes certaine persones, yee know that there are two sortes of them: One sorte that troubles and tormentes the persones that they haunt with: An other sort that are seruiceable vnto them in all kinde of their necessaries, and omittes neuer to forwarne them of anie suddaine perrell that they are to be in. And so in this case, I would vnderstande whither both these sortes be but wicked and damned spirites: Or if the last sorte be rather Angells, (as should appeare by their actiones) sent by God to assist such as he speciallie fauoures. For it is written in the Scriptures, that God sendes Legions of Angells to guarde and watch ouer his elect.[2]
EPI. I know well inough where fra that errour which ye alleage hath proceeded: For it was the ignorant Gentiles that were the fountaine thereof. Who for that they knew not God, they forged in their owne imaginationes, euery man to be still accompanied with two spirites, whereof they called
[1. Iob. x.
2. Gen. 32. 1. Kin. 6 Psal. 34.]
{p. 65}
the one genius bonus, the other genius malus: the Greekes called them {Greek endaimona} & {Greek kakodaimona}: wherof the former they saide, perswaded him to all the good he did: the other entised him to all the euill. But praised be God we that are christians, & walks not amongst the Cymmerian conjectures of man, knowes well inough, that it is the good spirite of God onely, who is the fountain of all goodnes, that perswads vs to the thinking or doing of any good: and that it is our corrupted fleshe and Sathan, that intiseth vs to the contrarie. And yet the Deuill for confirming in the heades of ignoraunt Christians, that errour first mainteined among the Gentiles, he whiles among the first kinde of spirits that I speak of, appeared in time of Papistrie and blindnesse, and haunted diuers houses, without doing any euill, but doing as it were necessarie turnes vp and down the house: and this spirit they called Brownie in our language, who appeared like a rough-man: yea, some were so blinded, as to beleeue that their house was all the sonsier, as they called it, that such spirites resorted there.
PHI. But since the Deuils intention in all his actions. is euer to do euill,, what euill was there in that forme of doing, since their actions outwardly were good.
EPI Was it not euill inough to deceiue simple ignorantes, in making them to take him for an Angell of light, and so to account of Gods enemie, as of their particular friend: where by the contrarie, all we that are Christians, ought assuredly to know
{p. 66}
that since the comming of Christ in the flesh, and establishing of his Church by the Apostles, all miracles, visions, prophecies, & appearances of Angels or good spirites are ceased. Which serued onely for the first sowing of faith, & planting of the Church. Where now the Church being established, and the white Horse whereof I spake before, hauing made his conqueste, the Lawe and Prophets are thought sufficient to serue vs, or make vs inexcusable, as Christ saith in his parable of Lazarus and the riche man.[1]

CHAP. III. ARGV.

The description of a particular sort of that kind of following spirites, called Incubi and Succubi: And what is the reason wherefore these kindes of spirites hauntes most the Northerne and barbarous partes of the world.
PHILOMATHES.
THE next question that I would speere, is likewise concerning this first of these two kindes of spirites that ye haue conjoyned: and it is this; ye knowe how it is commonly written and reported, that amongst the rest of the sortes of spirites that followes certaine persons, there is one more monstrous nor al the rest: in respect as it is alleaged, they converse naturally with them whom they trouble and hauntes with: and therefore I would knowe in two thinges your opinion herein: First if suche a thing can be: and next if it be: whether there be a difference of sexes amongst these spirites or not.
EPI. That abhominable kinde of the Deuils
[1. Luk. 16.]
{p. 67}
abusing of men or women, was called of old, Incubi and Succubi, according to the difference of the sexes that they conuersed with. By two meanes this great kinde of abuse might possibly be performed: The one, when the Deuill onelie as a spirite, and stealing out the sperme of a dead bodie, abuses them that way, they not graithlie seeing anie shape or feeling anie thing, but that which he so conuayes in that part: As we reade of a Monasterie of Nunnes which were burnt for their being that way abused. The other meane is when he borrowes a dead bodie and so visiblie, and as it seemes vnto them naturallie as a man converses with them. But it is to be noted, that in whatsoeuer way he vseth it, that sperme seemes intollerably cold to the person abused. For if he steale out the nature of a quick person, it cannot be so quicklie carryed, but it will both tine the strength and heate by the way, which it could neuer haue had for lacke of agitation, which in the time of procreation is the procurer & wakener vp of these two natural qualities. And if he occupying the dead bodie as his lodging expell the same out thereof in the dewe time, it must likewise be colde by the participation with the qualities of the dead bodie whereout of it comes. And whereas yee inquire if these spirites be diuided in sexes or not, I thinke the rules of Philosophie may easelie resolue a man of the contrarie: For it is a sure principle of that arte, that nothing can be diuided in sexes, except such liuing bodies as must haue a naturall seede to ge-
{p. 68}
nere by. But we know spirites hath no seede proper to themselues, nor yet can they gender one with an other.
PHI. How is it then that they say sundrie monsters haue bene gotten by that way.
EPI. These tales are nothing but Aniles fabulæ. For that they haue no nature of their owne, I haue shewed you alreadie. And that the cold nature of a dead bodie, can woorke nothing in generation, it is more nor plaine, as being already dead of it selfe as well as the rest of the bodie is, wanting the naturall heate, and such other naturall operation, as is necessarie for woorking that effect, and incase such a thing were possible (which were all utterly against all the rules of nature) it would bread no monster, but onely such a naturall of-spring, as would haue cummed betuixt that man or woman and that other abused person, in-case they both being aliue had had a doe with other. For the Deuilles parte therein, is but the naked carrying or expelling of that substance: And so it coulde not participate with no qualitie of the same. Indeede, it is possible to the craft of the Deuill to make a womans bellie to swel after he hath that way abused her, which he may do, either by steiring vp her own humor, or by herbes, as we see beggars daily doe. And when the time of her deliuery should come to make her thoil great doloures, like vnto that naturall course, and then subtillie to slippe in the Mid-wiues handes, stockes, stones, or some monstruous barne brought from some other place, but this is more reported
{p. 69}
and gessed at by others, nor beleeued by me.
PHI. But what is the cause that this kinde of abuse is thought to be most common in such wild partes of the worlde, as Lap-land, and Fin-land, or in our North Iles of Orknay and Schet-land.
EPI. Because where the Deuill findes greatest ignorance and barbaritie, there assayles he grosseliest, as I gaue you the reason wherefore there was moe Witches of women kinde nor men.
PHI. Can anie be so vnhappie as to giue their willing consent to the Deuilles vilde abusing them in this forme.
EPI. Yea, some of the Witches haue confessed, that he hath perswaded them to giue their willing consent thereunto, that he may thereby haue them feltred the sikarer in his snares; But as the other compelled sorte is to be pittied and prayed for, so is this most highlie to be punished and detested.
PHI. It is not the thing which we cal the Mare, which takes folkes sleeping in their bedds, a kinde of these spirites, whereof ye are speaking?
EPI. No, that is but a naturall sicknes, which the Mediciners hath giuen that name of Incubus vnto ab incubando, because it being a thicke fleume, falling into our breast vpon the harte, while we are sleeping, intercludes so our vitall spirites, and takes all power from vs, as maks vs think that there were some vnnaturall burden or spirite, lying vpon vs and holding vs downe.
{p. 70}

CHAP. IIII. ARGV.

The description of the Dæmoniackes &possessed. By what reason the Papistes may haue power to cure them.
PHILOMATHES.
WEL, I haue told you now all my doubts, and ye haue satisfied me therein, concerning the first of these two kindes of spirites that ye haue conjoyned. Now I am to inquire onely two thinges at you concerning the last kinde, I meane the Dæmoniackes. The first is, whereby shal these possessed folks be discerned fra them that ar trubled with a natural Phrensie or Manie. The next is, how can it be that they can be remedied by the Papistes Church, whome wee counting as Hereticques, it should appeare that one Deuil should not cast out an other, for then would his kingdome be diuided in it selfe, as CHRIST said.[1]
EPI. As to your first question; there are diuers symptomes, whereby that heauie trouble may be discerned from a naturall sickenesse, and speciallie three, omitting the diuers vaine signes that the Papistes attributes vnto it: Such as the raging at holie water, their fleeing a back from the Croce, their not abiding the hearing of God named, and innumerable such like vaine thinges that were alike fashious and feckles to recite. But to come to these three symptomes then, whereof I spake, I account the one of them to be the incredible strength of the possessed creature, which will farre exceede the strength of six of the wightest and wodest of any other men that are not so troubled. The next is the
[1. Mat. 12 Mark. 3]
{p. 71}
boldning vp so far of the patients breast and bellie, with such an vnnaturall sturring and vehement agitation within them: And such an ironie hardnes of his sinnowes so stiffelie bended out, that it were not possible to prick out as it were the skinne of anie other person so far: so mightely works the Deuil in all the members and senses of his body, he being locallie within the same, suppose of his Soule and affectiones thereof, hee haue no more power then of any other mans. The last is, the speaking of sundrie languages, which the patient is knowen by them that were acquainte with him neuer to haue learned, and that with an vncouth and hollowe voice, and al the time of his speaking, a greater motion being in his breast then in his mouth. But fra this last symptome is excepted such, as are altogether in the time of their possessing bereft of al their senses being possessed with a dumme and blynde spirite, whereof Christ releiued one, in the 12. Of Mathew. And as to your next demande, it is first to be doubted if the Papistes or anie not professing the the onelie true Religion, can relieue anie of that trouble. And next, in-case they can, vpon what respectes it is possible vnto them. As to the former vpon two reasons, it is grounded: first that it is knowen so manie of them to bee counterfite, which wyle the Clergie inuentes for confirming of their rotten Religion. The next is, that by experience we finde that few, who are possessed indeede, are fullie cured by them: but rather the Deuill is content to release the bodelie hurting of them, for a
{p. 72}
shorte space, thereby to obteine the perpetual hurt of the soules of so many that by these false miracles may be induced or confirmed in the profession of that erroneous Religion: euen as I told you before that he doth in the false cures, or casting off of diseases by Witches. As to the other part of the argument in-case they can, which rather (with reuerence of the learned thinking otherwaies) I am induced to beleeue, by reason of the faithfull report that men sound of religion, haue made according to their sight thereof, I think if so be, I say these may be the respectes, whereupon the Papistes may haue that power. CHRIST gaue a commission and power to his Apostles to cast out Deuilles, which they according thereunto put in execution: The rules he had them obserue in that action, was fasting and praier: & the action it selfe to be done in his name. This power of theirs proceeded not then of anie vertue in them, but onely in him who directed them. As was clearly proued by Iudas his hauing as greate power in that commission, as anie of the reste. It is easie then to be vnderstand that the casting out of Deuilles, is by the vertue of fasting and prayer, and in-calling of the name of God, suppose manie imperfectiones be in the person that is the instrumente, as CHRIST him selfe teacheth vs of the power that false Prophets sall haue to caste out Devils.[1] It is no wounder then, these respects of this action being considered, that it may be possible to the Papistes, though erring in sundrie points of Religion to accomplish this, if they vse the right
[1. Mat. 7.]
{p. 73}
forme prescribed by CHRIST herein. For what the worse is that action that they erre in other thinges, more then their Baptisme is the worse that they erre in the other Sacrament, and haue eiked many vaine freittes to the Baptisme it selfe.
PHI. Surelie it is no little wonder that God should permit the bodies of anie of the faithfull to be so dishonoured, as to be a dwelling place to that vncleane spirite.
EPI. There is it which I told right now, would prooue and strengthen my argument of the deuils entring in the dead bodies of the faithfull. For if he is permitted to enter in their liuing bodies, euen when they are ioyned with the soule: how much more will God permit him to enter in their dead carions, which is no more man, but the filthie and corruptible caise of man. For as CHRIST Sayth, It is not any thing that enters within man that defiles him, but onely that which proceedes and commeth out of him.[1]

CHAP. V. ARGV.

The description of the fourth kinde of Spirites called the Phairie: What is possible therein, and what is but illusiones. How far this Dialogue entreates of all these thinges, and to what end.
PHILOMATHES.
NOW I pray you come on to that fourth kinde of spirites.
EPI. That fourth kinde of spirites, which by the Gentiles was called Diana, and her wandring Court, and amongst vs was called the Phairie (as I
[1. Mark. 7]
{p. 74}
tould you) or our good neighboures, was one of the sortes of illusiones that was rifest in the time of Papistrie: for although it was holden odious to Prophesie by the deuill, yet whome these kinde of Spirites carryed awaie, and informed, they were thought to be sonsiest and of best life. To speake of the many vaine trattles founded vpon that illusion: How there was a King and Queene of Phairie, of such a iolly court & train as they had, how they had a teynd, & dutie, as it were, of all goods: how they naturallie rode and went, eate and drank, and did all other actiones like naturall men and women: I thinke it liker VIRGILS Campi Elysij, nor anie thing that ought to be beleeued by Christians, except in generall, that as I spake sundrie times before, the deuil illuded the senses of sundry simple creatures, in making them beleeue that they saw and harde such thinges as were nothing so indeed.
PHI. But how can it be then, that sundrie Witches haue gone to death with that confession, that they haue ben transported with the Phairie to such a hill, which opening, they went in, and there saw a faire Queene, who being now lighter, gaue them a stone that had sundrie vertues, which at sundrie times hath bene produced in judgement?
EPI. I say that, euen as I said before of that imaginar rauishing of the spirite foorth of the bodie. For may not the deuil object to their fantasie, their senses being dulled, and as it were a sleepe, such hilles & houses within them, such glistering courts and traines, and whatsoeuer such like wherewith he pleaseth to delude them. And in the meane
{p. 75}
time their bodies being senselesse, to conuay in their hande any stone or such like thing, which he makes them to imagine to haue receiued in such a place.
PHI. But what say ye to their fore-telling the death of sundrie persones, whome they alleage to haue seene in these places? That is, a sooth-dreame (as they say) since they see it walking.
EPI. I thinke that either they haue not bene sharply inough examined, that gaue so blunt a reason for their Prophesie, or otherwaies, I thinke it likewise as possible that the Deuill may prophesie to them when he deceiues their imaginationes in that sorte, as well as when he plainely speakes vnto them at other times for their prophesying, is but by a kinde of vision, as it were, wherein he commonly counterfeits God among the Ethnicks, as I told you before.
PHI. I would know now whether these kindes of spirites may only appeare to Witches, or if they may also appeare to anie other.
EPI. They may do to both, to the innocent sort, either to affraie them, or to seeme to be a better sorte of folkes nor vncleane spirites are, and to the Witches, to be a cullour of safetie for them, that ignorant Magistrates may not punish them for it, as I told euen now. But as the one sorte, for being perforce troubled with them ought to be pittied, so ought the other sorte (who may bee discerned by their taking vppon them to Prophesie by them,) That sorte I say, ought as seuerely to be punished as any other Witches, and rather the more, that
{p. 76}
that they goe dissemblingly to woorke.
PHI. And what makes the spirites haue so different names from others.
EPI. Euen the knauerie of that same deuil; who as hee illudes the Necromancers with innumerable feyned names for him and his angels, as in special, making SathanBeelzebub, & Lucifer, to be three sundry spirites, where we finde the two former, but diuers names giuen to the Prince of all the rebelling angels by the Scripture. As by CHRIST, the Prince of all the Deuilles is called, Beelzebub in that place, which I alleaged against the power of any hereticques to cast out Deuils. By IOHN in the Reuelation, the old tempter is called, Sathan the Prince of all the euill angels. And the last, to wit, Lucifer, is but by allegorie taken from the day Starre (so named in diuers places of the Scriptures) because of his excellencie (I meane the Prince of them) in his creation before his fall. Euen so I say he deceaues the Witches, by attributing to himselfe diuers names: as if euery diuers shape that he trans formes himselfe in, were a diuers kinde of spirit.
PHI. But I haue hard many moe strange tales of this Phairie, nor ye haue yet told me.
EPI. As well I do in that, as I did in all the rest of my discourse. For because the ground of this conference of ours, proceeded of your speering at me at our meeting, if there was such a thing as Witches or spirites: And if they had any power: I therefore haue framed my whole discours, only to proue that such things are and may be, by such number of examples as I show to be possible by reason: & keepes
{p. 77}
me from dipping any further in playing the part of a Dictionarie, to tell what euer I haue read or harde in that purpose, which both would exceede fayth, and rather would seeme to teach such vnlawfull artes, nor to disallow and condemne them, as it is the duetie of all Christians to do.

CHAP. VI. ARGV.

Of the tryall and punishment of Witches. What sorte of accusation ought to be admitted against them. What is the cause of the increasing so far of their number in this age.
PHILOMATHES.
THEN To make an ende of our conference, since I see it drawes late, what forme of punishment thinke ye merites these Magicians and Witches? For I see that ye account them to be all alike guiltie?
EPI. They ought to be put to death according to the Law of God, the ciuill and imperial law, and municipall law of all Christian nations.
PHI. But what kinde of death I pray you?
EPI. It is commonly vsed by fire, but that is an indifferent thing to be vsed in euery cuntrie, according to the Law or custome thereof.
PHI. But ought no sexe, age nor ranck to be exempted?
EPI. None at al (being so vsed by the lawful Magistrate) for it is the highest poynt of Idolatrie, wherein no exception is admitted by the law of God.
PHI. Then bairnes may not be spared?
EPI. Yea, not a haire the lesse of my conclusion.
{p. 78}
For they are not that capable of reason as to practise such thinges. And for any being in company and not reueiling thereof, their lesse and ignorant age will no doubt excuse them.
PHI. I see ye condemne them all that are of the counsell of such craftes.
EPI. No doubt, for as I said, speaking of Magie, the consulters, trusters in, ouer-seers, interteiners or sturrers vp of these craftes-folkes, are equallie guiltie with themselues that are the practisers.
PHI. Whether may the Prince then, or supreame Magistrate, spare or ouer-see any that are guiltie of that craft? vpon som great respects knowen to him?
EPI. The Prince or Magistrate for further tryals cause, may continue the punishing of them such a certaine space as he thinkes conuenient: But in the end to spare the life, and not to strike when God bids strike, and so seuerelie punish in so odious a fault & treason against God, it is not only vnlawful, but doubtlesse no lesse sinne in that Magistrate, nor it was in SAVLES sparing of AGAG[1]. And so comparable to the sin of Witch-craft it selfe, as SAMVELL alleaged at that time.
PHI. Surely then, I think since this crime ought to be so seuerely punished. Iudges ought to beware to condemne any, but such as they are sure are guiltie, neither should the clattering reporte of a carling serue in so weightie a case.
EPI. Iudges ought indeede to beware whome they condemne: For it is as great a crime (as SALOMON sayeth,) To condemne the innocent, as to let the guiltie escape free;[2] neither ought the report of any
[1. 1. Sam. 15.
2. Pro. 17]
{p. 79}
one infamous person, be admitted for a sufficient proofe, which can stand of no law.
PHI. And what may a number then of guilty persons confessions, woork against one that is accused?
EPI. The assise must serue for interpretour of our law in that respect. But in my opinion, since in a mater of treason against the Prince, barnes or wiues, or neuer so diffamed persons, may of our law serue for sufficient witnesses and proofes. I thinke surely that by a far greater reason, such witnesses may be sufficient in matters of high treason against God: For who but Witches can be prooues, and so witnesses of the doings of Witches.
PHI. Indeed, I trow they wil be loath to put any honest man vpon their counsell. But what if they accuse folke to haue bene present at their Imaginar conuentiones in the spirite, when their bodies lyes sencelesse, as ye haue said.
EPI. I think they are not a haire the lesse guiltie: For the Deuill durst neuer haue borrowed their shaddow or similitude to that turne, if their consent had not bene at it: And the consent in these turnes is death of the law.
PHI. Then SAMVEL was a Witch: For the Deuill resembled his shape, and played his person in giuing response to SAVLE.
EPI. SAMVEL was dead aswell before that; and so none coulde slander him with medling in that vnlawfull arte. For the cause why, as I take it, that God will not permit Sathan to vse the shapes or similitudes of any innocent persones at such vnlawful times, is that God wil not permit that any inno-
{p. 80}
cent persons shalbe slandered with that vile defection: for then the deuil would find waies anew, to calumniate the best. And this we haue in proofe by them that are carryed with the Phairie, who neuer see the shaddowes of any in that courte, but of them that thereafter are tryed to haue bene brethren and sisters of that craft. And this was likewise proued by the co~fession of a young Lasse, troubled with spirites, laide on her by Witchcraft. That although shee saw the shapes of diuerse men & women troubling her, and naming the persons whom these shaddowes represents: yet neuer one of them are found to be innocent, but al clearely tried to be most guilty, & the most part of them confessing the same. And besides that, I think it hath ben seldome harde tell of, that any whome persones guiltie of that crime accused, as hauing knowen them to be their marrowes by eye-sight, and not by hear-say, but such as were so accused of Witch-craft. could not be clearely tryed vpon them, were at the least publickly knowen to be of a very euil life & reputation: so iealous is God I say, of the fame of them that are innocent in such causes. And besides that, there are two other good helpes that may be vsed for their trial: the one is the finding of their marke, and the trying the insensiblenes thereof. The other is their fleeting on the water: for as in a secret murther, if the deade carcase be at any time thereafter handled by the murtherer, it wil gush out of bloud, as if the blud wer crying to the heauen for reuenge of the murtherer. God hauing appoynted that secret super-naturall signe, for tryall of that secrete
{p. 81}
vnnaturall crime, so it appeares that God hath appoynted (for a super-naturall signe of the monstruous impietie of the Witches) that the water shal refuse to receiue them in her bosom, that haue shaken off them the sacred Water of Baptisme, and wilfullie refused the benefite thereof: No not so much as their eyes are able to shed teares (thretten and torture them as ye please) while first they repent (God not permitting them to dissemble their obstinacie in so horrible a crime) albeit the women kinde especially, be able other-waies to shed teares at euery light occasion when they will, yea, although it were dissemblingly like the Crocodiles.
PHI. Well, wee haue made this conference to last as long as leasure would permit: And to conclude then, since I am to take my leaue of you, I pray God to purge this Cuntrie of these diuellishe practises: for they were neuer so rife in these partes, as they are now.
EPI. I pray God that so be to. But the causes ar ouer manifest, that makes them to be so rife. For the greate wickednesse of the people on the one parte, procures this horrible defection, whereby God justlie punisheth sinne, by a greater iniquitie. And on the other part, the consummation of the worlde, and our deliuerance drawing neare, makes Sathan to rage the more in his instruments, knowing his kingdome to be so neare an ende. And so fare-well for this time.[1]
FINIS.
[1. Reuel. 2.]
{p. 82



ERRATA

The following corrections have been made in the text of the original:
PageLineIn the Original reads
310'sene,'sene.'
292'it is''it it'
4023'a quantitie''aquantitie'
7830'condemne''condemue'

{The pagination for Newes from Scotland starts here at page 1. In the Bodley Head reprint this follows page 82.--jbh}
{p. 1}


NEWES FROM SCOTLAND

declaring the damnable life
and death of
DOCTOR FIAN, a notable SORCERER
(1591)
{p. 2}
NOTE
THE ORIGINAL of this text is in the Bodleian Library (Douce F. 210). The text (not the Preface) is reproduced line for line and page for page. Pages in the original are not numbered except by signatures. No corrections have been made.
G. B. H.
{p. 3}


Newes from Scotland,

Declaring the Damnable

life and death of Doctor Fian, a
notable Sorcerer, who was burned at
Edenbrough in Ianuary laft.
1591.

Which Doctor was regefter to the Diuell

that fundry times preached at North Barrick Kirke, to a number of notorious Witches.
With the true examinations of the faide Doctor and Witches as they vttered them in the prefence of the Scottifh King.
Difcouering how they pretended

to bewitch and drowne his Maieftie in the Sea

comming from Denmarke with fuch

or her wonderfull matters as the like
hath not been heard of at
any time.

Publifhed according to the Scottifh Coppie.
AT LONDON
Printed for William

Wright.
{original title page}
{p. 4}
{p. 5}

Reader.


THE MANIFOLDE vntruthes which is spread abroade, concerning the detestable actions and apprehension of those Witches wherof this Historye following truely entreateth, hath caused me to publish the same in print: and the rather for that sundrie written Copies are lately dispersed therof, co~taining, that the said witches were first discouered, by meanes of a poore Pedler trauailing to the towne of Trenent, and that by a wonderfull manner he was in a moment conuayed at midnight, from Scotland to Burdeux in Fraunce (beeing places of no small distance between) into a Marchants Seller there, & after, being sent from Burdeux into Scotland by certaine Scottish Marchants to the Kinges Maiestie, that he discouered those Witches and was the cause of their apprehension: with a number of matters miracu / lous and incredible: All which in truthe are moste false. Neuertheles to satisfie a number of honest mindes, who are desirous to be enformed of the veritie and trueth of their confessions, which for certaintie is more stranger then the common reporte runneth, and yet with more trueth I hauvndertaken to publish this short Treatise, which declareth the true discourse of all that hath hapned, & aswell what was pretended b those wicked and detestable Witches against the Kinges Maiestie, as also by what meanes they wrought the same.

All which examinations (gentle Reader) I haue heere truelye published, as they were taken and vttered in the presence of the Kings Maiestie, praying thee to accept it for veritie, the same beeing so true as cannot be reproued.



A true discourse,

Of the apprehension of sundrye

Witches lately taken in Scotland:
wherof some are executed, and some are
yet imprisoned.
With a particuler recitall of their examinations,

taken in the presence of the Kinges Maiestie.

GOd by his omnipotent power, hath at al times and daily doth take such care, and is so vigillant, for the weale and preseruation of his owne, that thereby he disapointeth the wicked practises and euil intents of all such as by any meanes whatsoeuer, seeke indirectly to conspire any thing contrary to his holy will: yea and by the same power, he hath lately ouerthrown and hindered the intentions and wicked dealinges of a great number of vngodly creatures, no better then Diuels: who suffering themselues to be allured and inticed by the Diuell whom they serued, and to whome they were pritiatelye sworne: entered into ye detestable Art of witch-
{p. 8}
craft, which they studied and practised so long time, that in the end they had seduced by their sorcery a number of other to be as bad as themselues: dwelling in the boundes of Lowthian, which is a principall shire or parte of Scotland, where the Kings Maiestie vseth to make his cheefest residence or abode: and to the end that their detestable wickednes which they priuilye had pretended against the Kings Maiestie, the Common-weale of that Country, with the Nobilitie and subiects of the same, should come to light: God of his vnspeakeable goodnes did reueale and lay it open in very strange sorte, therby to make knowne vnto the worlde, that there actions were contrarye to the lawe of God, and the naturall affection which we ought generallye to beare one to another: the manner of the reuealing wherof was as followeth.
'Within the towne of Trenent in the Kingdome of Scotland, there dwelleth one Dauid Seaton, who being deputie Bailiffe in the saide Towne, had a maide seruant called Geillis Duncane, who vsed secretly to be absent and to lye foorth of her Maisters house euery other night: this Geillis Duncanetook in hand to help all such as were troubled or greeued with any kinde of sicknes or infirmitie: and in short space did perfourme manye matters most miraculous, which thinges forasmuch as she began to doe them vpon a sodaine, hauing neuer doon the like
{p. 9}
before, made her Maister and others to be in great admiracion, and wondred thereat: by meanes wherof the saide Dauid Seaton had his maide in some great suspition, that she did not those things by naturall and lawfull wayes, but rather supposed it to be doone by some extraordinary and vnlawfull meanes.
Whervpon, her Maister began to growe very inquisitiue, and examined her which way and by what meanes she were able to perfourme matters of so great importance: whereat she gaue him no answere, neuerthelesse, her Maister to the intent that he might the better trye and finde out the trueth of the same, did with the helpe of others, torment her with the torture of the Pilliwinckes vpon her fingers, which is a greeuous torture, and binding or wrinching her head with a corde or roape, which is a most cruell torment also, yet would she not confesse any thing, whereupon they suspecting that she had beene marked by the Diuell (as commonly witches are) made dilligent search about her, and found the enemies marke to be in her fore crag or foreparte of her throate: which being found, she confessed that all her dooings was doone by the wicked allurements and inticements of the Diuell, and that she did them by witchcraft.
After this her confession, she was committed to prison, where she continued for a season,
{p. 10}
where immediatly she accused these persons following to be notorious witches, and caused them foorthwith to be apprehended one after an
other, vidz. Agnis Sampson the eldest Witch of them al, dwelling in Haddington, Agnes Tompson of Edenbrough, Doctor Fian, alias Iohn Cunningham, maister of the Schoole at Salt-
{p. 11}
pans in Lowthian, of whose life and strange actes, you shall heare more largely in the ende of this discourse: these were by the saide Geillis Duncaneaccused, as also George Motts wife dwelling in Saltpans, Robert Griersonn skipper, and Iennit Bandilandis, with the Porters wife of Seaton, the Smith at the brigge Hallis with innumerable others in that partes, and dwelling in those bounds aforesaide: of whom some are alreadye executed, the rest remaine in prison, to receiue the doome of Iudgement at the Kings maiesties will and pleasure.
The said Geillis Duncane also caused Ewphame Meealrean to be apprehended, who conspired and perfourmed the death of her Godfather, and who vsed her art vpon a gentleman being one of the Lords and Iustices of the Session, for bearing good will to her Daughter: she also caused to be apprehended one Barbara Naper, for bewitching to death Archibalde, last Earle of Angus, who languished to death by witchcraft and yet the same was not suspected, but that he died of so strange a disease, as the Phisition knew not how to cure or remedy the same: but of all other the saide witches, these two last before recited, were reputed for as ciuill honest women as any that dwelled within the Citie of Edenbrough, before they were apprehended. Many other besides were taken dwelling in
{p. 12}
Lieth, who are detayned in prison, vntill his Maiesties further will and pleasure be known: of whose wicked dooings you shall particularly heare, which was as followeth.
This aforeaside Agnis Sampson which was the elder Witch, was taken and brought to Haliciud house before the Kings Maiestie and sundry other of the nobility of Scotland, where she was straitly examined, but all the perswasions which the Kings maiestie vsed to her with ye rest of his counsell, might not prouoke or induce her to confesse any thing, but stood stiffely in the deniall of all that was laide to her charge: whervpon they caused her to be conueied awaye to prison, there to receiue such torture as hath been lately prouided for witches in that country: and forasmuch as by due examination of witchcraft and witches in Scotland, it hath latelye beene found that the Deuill dooth generallye marke them with a priuie marke, by reason the Witches haue confessed themselues, that the Diuell dooth lick them with his tung in some priuy part of their bodie, before hee dooth receiue them to be his seruants, which marke commonly is giuen them vnder the haire in some part of their bodye, wherby it may not easily be found out or seene, although they be searched: and generally so long as the marke is not seene to those which search them, so long the parties that hath the
{p. 13}
marke will neuer confesse any thing. Therfore by special commaundement this Agnis Sampson had all her haire shauen of, in each parte of her bodie, and her head thrawen with a rope according to the custome of that Countrye, beeing a paine most greeuous, which she continued almost an hower, during which time she would not confesse any thing vntill the Diuels marke was found vpon her priuities, then she immediatlye confessed whatsoeuer was demaunded of her, and iustifying those persons aforesaid to be notorious witches.
Item, the saide Agnis Tompson was after brought againe before the Kings Maiestie and his Counsell, and being examined of the meetings and detestable dealings of those witches, she confessed that vpon the night of Allhollon Euen last, she was accompanied aswell with the persons aforesaide, as also with a great many other witches, to the number of two hundreth: and that all they together went by Sea each one in a Riddle or Ciue, {sieve?--jbh} and went in the same very substantially with Flaggons of wine making merrie and drinking by the waye in the same Riddles or Ciues, to the Kerke of North Barrick in Lowthian, and that after they had landed, tooke handes on the land and daunced this reill or short daunce, singing all with one voice.
{p. 14}


Commer goe ye before, commer goe ye,
Gif ye will not goe before, commer let me.

At which time she confessed, that this Geilles Duncane did goe before them playing this reill or daunce vpon a small Trump, called a Iewes Trump, vntill they entred into the Kerk of north Barrick.
These confessions made the King in a woderful admiration and sent for ye said GeillisDuncane, who vpon the like Trump did playe the said daunce before the Kings Maiestie, who in respect of the strangenes of these matters, tooke great delight to bee present at their examinations.
Item, the said Agnis Tompson confessed that the Diuell being then at North Barrick Kerke attending their comming in the habit or likenes of a man, and seeing that they tarried ouer long, he at their comming enioyned them all to a pennance, which was, that they should kisse his Buttockes, in signe of duetye to him: which being put ouer the Pulpit barre, euerye one did as he had enioyned them: and hauing made his vngodly exhortations, wherein he did greatlye enveighe against the King of Scotland, he receiued their oathes for their good and true seruice towards him, and departed: which doone, they returned to Sea, and so home againe.
{p. 15}
At which time the witches demaunded of the Diuel why he did beare such hatred to the King, who answered, by reason the King is the greatest enemy he hath in the worlde: all which their onfessions and depositions are still extant vpon record.
Item, the saide Agnis Sampson confessed before the Kings Maiestie sundrye thinges which were so miraculous and strange, as that his Maiestie saide they were all extreame lyars, wherat she answered, she would not wishe his Maiestie to suppose her woords to be false, but rather to beleeue them, in that she would discouer such matter vnto him as his maiestie should not any way doubt off.
And therupon taking his Maiestie a little aside, she declared vnto him the verye woordes which passed betweene the Kings Maiestie and his Queene at Vpslo in Norway the first night of their mariage, with their answere eache to other: whereat the Kinges Maiestie wondered greatlye, and swore by the liuing God, that he beleeued that all the Diuels in hell could not haue discouered the same: acknowledging her woords to be most true, and therefore gaue the more credit to the rest which is before declared.
Touching this Agnis Tompson, she is the onlye woman, who by the Diuels perswasion should haue entended and put in execution the
{p. 16}
Kings Maiesties death in this manner.
She confessed that she tooke a blacke Toade, and did hang the same vp by the heeles, three daies, and collected and gathered the venome as it dropped and fell from it in an Oister shell, and kept the same venome close couered, vntill she should obtaine any parte or peece of foule linnen cloth, that had appertained to the Kings Maiestie, as shirt, handkercher, napkin or any other thing which she practised to obtaine by meanes of one Iohn Kers, who being attendant in his Maiesties Chamber, desired him for olde acquaintance betweene them, to helpe her to one or a peece of such a cloth as is aforesaide, which thing the said Iohn Kers denyed to helpe her too, saying he could not help her too it.
And the said Agnis Tompson by her depositions since her apprehension saith, that if she had obtained any one peece of linnen cloth which the King had worne and fouled, she had bewitched him to death, and put him to such extraordinary paines, as if he had beene lying vpon sharp thornes and endes of Needles.
Moreouer she confessed that at the time when his Maiestie was in Denmarke, she being accompanied with the parties before specially named, tooke a Cat and christened it, and afterward bound to each parte of that Cat, the cheefest partes of a dead man, and seuerall ioynts of
{p. 17}
his bodie, and that in the night following the saide Cat was conueied into the midst of the sea by all these witches sayling in their riddles or Cities as is aforesaide, and so left the saide Cat right before the Towne of Lieth in Scotland: this doone, there did arise such a tempest in the Sea, as a greater hath not beene scene: which tempest was the cause of the perrishing of a Boate or vessell comming ouer from the towne of Brunt Iland to the towne of Lieth, wherein was sundrye Iewelles and riche giftes, which should haue been presented to the now Queen of Scotland, at her Maiesties comming to Lieth.
Againe it is confessed, that the said christened Cat was the cause that the Kinges Maiesties Ship at his comming foorth of Denmarke, had a contrary winde to the rest of his Ships, then being in his companye, which thing was most strange and true, as the Kings Maiestie acknowledgeth, for when the rest of the Shippes had a faire and good winde, then was the winde contrarye and altogither against his Maiestie: and further the saide witche declared, that his Maiestie had neuer come safelye from the Sea, if his faith had not preuailed aboue their ententions.
Moreouer the said Witches being demaun-
{p. 18}
ded how the Dwell would vse them when he was in their company, they confessed that when the Diuell did receiue them for his seruants, and that they had vowed themselues vnto him, then he would Carnallye vse them, albeit to their little pleasure, in respect of his colde nature: and would doo the like at sundry other times.
As touching the aforesaide Doctor Fianalias Iohn Cunningham, the examination of his actes since his apprehension, declareth the great subtiltye of the diuell, and therfore maketh thinges to appeere the more miraculous: for being apprehended by the accusation of the saide Geillis Duncaneaforesaide, who confessed he was their Regester, and that there was not one man suffered to come to the Diuels readinges but onlye he: the saide Doctor was taken and imprisoned, and vsed with the accustomed paine, prouided for those offences, inflicted vpon the rest as is aforesaide.
First by thrawing of his head with a roape, wherat he would confesse nothing.
Secondly, he was perswaded by faire means to confesse his follies, but that would preuaile as little.
Lastly he was put to the most seuere and cruell paine in the world, called the bootes, who af-
{p. 19}
ter he had receiued three strokes, being enquired if he would confesse his damnable acts and wicked life, his tung would not serue him to speak, in respect wherof the rest of the witches willed to search his tung, vnder which was found two pinnes thrust vp into the head, whereupon the VVitches did laye, Now is the Charme stinted, and shewed that those charmed Pinnes were the cause he could not confesse any thing: then was he immediatly released of the bootes, brought before the King, his confession was taken, and his owne hand willingly set ther-vnto, which contained as followeth.
First, that at the generall meetinges of those witches, hee was alwayes preasent: that he was Clarke to all those that were in subiection to the Diuels seruice, bearing the name of witches, that alwaye he did take their othes for their true seruice to the Diuell, and that he wrot for them such matters as the Diuell still pleased to commaund him.
Item, he confessed that by his witchcrafte he did bewitch a Gentleman dwelling neere to the Saltpans, where the said Doctor kept Schoole, onely for being enamoured of a Gentlewoman whome he loued himselfe: by meanes of which
{p. 20}
his Sorcerye, witchcraft and diuelish practises, he caused the said Gentleman that once in xxiiij. howres he fell into a lunacie and madnes, and so
cotinued one whole hower together, and for the veritie of the same, he caused the Gentleman to be brought before the Kinges Maiestie, which was vpon the xxiiij. day of December last, and being
{p. 21}
in his Maiesties Chamber, suddenly he gaue a great scritch and fell into a madnes, sometime bending himselfe, and sometime capring so directly vp, that his head did touch the seeling of the Chamber, to the great admiration of his Maiestie and others then present: so that all the Gentlemen in the Chamber were not able to holde him, vntill they called in more helpe, who together bound him hand and foot: and suffering the said gentleman to lye still vntill his furye were past, he within an hower came againe to himselfe, when being demaunded of the Kings Maiestie what he saw or did all that while, answered that he had been in a sound sleepe.
Item the said Doctor did also confesse that he had vsed means sundry times to obtain his purpose and wicked intent of the same Gentlewoman, and seeing himselfe disapointed of his intention, he determined by all waies he might to obtaine the same, trusting by coniuring, witchcraft and Sorcery to obtaine it in this manner.
It happened this gentlewoman being vnmaried, had a brother who went to schoole with the said Doctor, and calling his Scholler to him, demaunded if he did lye with his sister, who answered he did, by meanes wherof he thought to obtaine his purpose, and therefore secretlye promised to teach him wtout stripes, so he would obtain for him three haires of his sisters priuities.
{p. 22}
at such time as he should spye best occasion for it: which the youth promised faithfullye to perfourme, and vowed speedily to put it in practise, taking a peece of coniured paper of his maister to lappe them in when he had gotten them: and therevpon the boye practised nightlye to obtaine his maisters purpose, especially when his sister was a sleepe.
But God who knoweth the secrets of all harts, and reuealeth all wicked and vngodlye practises, would not suffer the intents of this diuilish Doctor to come to that purpose which he supposed it would, and therefore to declare that he was heauilye offended with his wicked entent, did so woorke by the Gentlewomans owne meanes, that in the ende the same was discouered and brought to light: for she being one night a sleepe, and her brother in bed with her, suddenlye cryed out to her mother, declaring that her Brother would not suffer her to sleepe, wherevpon her mother hauing a quick capacitie, did vehemently suspect Doctor Fians entention, by reason she was a witche of her selfe, and therefore presently arose, and was very inquisitiue of the boy to vnderstand his intent, and the better to know ye same, did beat him with sundry stripes, wherby he discouered the trueth vnto her.
{p. 23}
The Mother therefore being well practised in witchcrafte, did thinke it most conuenient to meete with the Doctor in his owne Arte, and therevpon tooke the paper from the boy, wherein hee should haue put the same haires, and went to a young Heyfer which neuer had borne Calfe nor gone to the Bull, and with a paire of sheeres, clipped off three haires from the vdder of the Cow, and wrapt them in the same paper, which she againe deliuered to the boy, then willing him to giue the same to his saide Maister, which he immediatly did.
The Schoolemaister so soone as he had receiued them, thinking them indeede to bee the Maides haires, went straight and wrought his arte vpon them: But the Doctor had no sooner doone his intent to them, but presentlye the Hayfer or Cow whose haires they were indeed, came vnto the doore of the Church wherein the Schoolemaister was, into the which the Hayfer went, and made towards the Schoolemaister, leaping and dauncing vpon him, and following him foorth of the church and to what place so euer he went, to the great admiration of all the townes men of Saltpans, and many other who did beholde the same.
The reporte whereof made all men imagine
{p. 24}
that hee did woorke it by the Dwell, without whom it could neuer haue beene so sufficientlye effected: and thervpon, the name of the said Doctor Fien(who was but a very yong man) began to grow so common among the people of Scotland, that he was secretlye nominated for a notable Cuniurer.
{p. 25}
All which although in the beginning he denied, and would not confesse, yet hauing felt the pain of the bootes (and the charme stinted, as aforesayd) be confessed all the aforesaid to be most true, without producing anie witnesses to iustifie the same, & thervpon before the kings maiesty he subscribed the sayd confessions with his owne hande, which for truth remaineth vpon record in Scotland.
After that the depositions and examinations of the sayd doctor Fian Alias Cuningham was taken, as alreadie is declared, with his owne hand willingly set therevnto, hee was by the master of the prison committed to ward, and appointed to a chamber by himselfe, where forsaking his wicked wayes, acknowledging his most vngodly lyfe, shewing that he had too much folowed the allurements and entisements of sathan, and fondly practised his conclusions by coniuring, witchcraft, inchantment, sorcerie, and such like, hee renounced the deuill and all his wicked workes, vowed to leade the life of a Christian, and seemed newly connected towards God.
The morrow after vpon conference had with him, he granted that the deuill had appeared vnto him in the night before, appareled all in blacke, with a white wand in his hande, and that the deuill demaunded of him if hee would continue his faithfull seruice, according to his first oath and promise made to that effect. Whome (as hee then
{p. 26}
sayd) he vtterly renounced to his face, and sayde vnto him in this manner, Auoide Satan, auoide, for I haue listned too much vnto thee, and by the same thou hast vndone mee, in respect whereof I vtterly forsake thee. To whome the deuill answered, That once ere thou die thou shalt bee mine. And with that (as he sayde) the deuill brake the white wande, and immediatly vanished foorth of his sight.
Thus all the daie this Doctor Fian continued verie solitarie, and seemed to haue care of his owne soule, and would call vppon God, shewing himselfe penitent for his wicked life, neuerthelesse the same night hee founde such meanes, that hee stole the key of the prison doore and chamber in the which he was, which in the night hee opened and fled awaie to the Salt pans, where hee was alwayes resident, and first apprehended. Of whose sodaine departure when the Kings maiestie had intelligence, hee presently commanded diligent inquirie to bee made for his apprehension, and for the better effecting thereof, hee sent publike proclamations into all partes of his lande to the same effect. By meanes of whose hot and harde pursuite, he was agayn taken and brought to prison, and then being called before the kings highnes, hee was reexamined as well touching his departure, as also touching all that had before happened.
{p. 27}
But this Doctor, notwithstanding that his owne confession appeareth remaining in recorde vnder his owne hande writing, and the same therevnto fixed in the presence of the Kings maiestie and sundrie of his Councell, yet did hee vtterly denie the same.
Wherevpon the kinges maiestie perceiuing his stubbourne wilfulnesse, conceiued and imagined that in the time of his absence hee had entered into newe conference and league with the deuill his master, and that hee had beene agayne newly marked, for the which hee was narrowly searched, but it coulde not in anie wise bee founde, yet for more tryall of him to make him confesse, hee was commaunded to haue a most straunge torment which was done in this manner following.
His nailes vpon all his fingers were riuen and pulled off with an instrument called in Scottish a Turkas, which in England wee call a payre of pincers, and vnder euerie nayle there was thrust in two needels ouer euen up to the heads. At all which tormentes notwithstanding the Doctor neuer shronke anie whit, neither woulde he then confesse it the sooner for all the tortures inflicted vpon him.
Then was hee with all conuenient speed, by commandement, conuaied againe to the torment
{p. 28}
of the bootes, wherein hee continued a long time, and did abide so many blowes in them, that his legges were crushte and beaten togeather as small as might bee, and the bones and flesh so brused, that the bloud and marrowe spouted forth in great abundance, whereby they were made unseruiceable for euer. And notwithstanding al these grieuous paines and cruell torments hee would not confesse anie thing, so deepely had the deuill entered into his heart, that hee vtterly denied all that which he had before auouched, and woulde saie nothing therevnto but this, that what hee had done and sayde before, was onely done and sayde for feare of paynes which he had endured.
Upon great consideration therefore taken by the Kings maiestie and his Councell, as well for the due execution of iustice vppon such detestable malefactors, as also for example sake, to remayne a terrour to all others heereafter, that shall attempt to deale in the lyke wicked and vngodlye actions, as witchcraft, sorcery, cuniuration, &such lyke, the sayde Doctor Fian was soone after araigned, condemned, and adiudged by the law to die, and then to bee burned according to the lawe of that lande, prouided in that behalfe. Wherevpon hee was put into a carte, and beeing first strangled, hee was immediatly put into a great fire, being readie prouided for that purpose, and there
{p. 29}
burned in the Castle hill of Edenbrough on a saterdaie in the ende of Ianuarie last past. 1591.
The rest of the witches which are not yet executed, remayne in prison till farther triall, and knowledge of his maiesties pleasure.
This strange discourse before recited, may perhaps giue some occasion of doubt to such as shall happen to reade the same, and thereby coniecture that the Kings maiestie would not hazarde himselfe in the presence of such notorious witches, least therby might haue insued great danger to his person and the generall state of the land, which thing in truth might wel haue bene feared. But to answer generally to such, let this suffice: that first it is well knowen that the King is the child & seruant of God, and they but seruants to the deuil, hee is the Lords annointed, and they but vesselles of Gods wrath: he is a true Christian, and trusteth in God, they worse than Infidels, for they onely trust in the deuill, who daily serue them, till he haue brought them to vtter destruction. But heereby it seemeth that his Highnesse caried a magnanimious and vndanted mind, not feared with their inchantmentes, but resolute in this, that so long as God is with him, hee feareth not who is against him. And trulie the whole scope of this treatise dooth so plainely laie open the wonderfull prouidence of the Almightie, that if he had not bene defended by his omnipotencie and power, his Highnes had neuer returned aliue in his voiage fro~ Denmarke, so that there is no doubt but God woulde as well defend him on the land as on the sea, where they pretended their damnable practise.

FINIS.

Wednesday 2 March 2016

"Down with the Codfish Aristocracy!"- How America Acquired an Armed Police

"What rhubarb, senna or what purgative drug will scour these English hence?"


"Account of the terrific and fatal riot at the New-York Astor Place Opera House, on the night of May 10th, 1849; with the quarrels of Forrest and Macready, including all the causes which led to that awful tragedy! 

Wherein an infuriated mob was quelled by the public authorities and military, with its mournful termination in the sudden death or mutilation of more than fifty citizens, with full and authentic particulars"




" LET JUSTICE BE DONE THOUGH THE HEAVENS FALL !' 

SEYMOUR DURST
NEW- YORK: PUBLISHED BY H. M. RANNEY. 1849. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S49, BY H. M. RANNEY, In the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the Southern District of New York. THE RIOT. CHAPTER FIRST. THE NIGHT OF THE lOTH OF MAY. On the night of the 10th of May, 1849, the Empire City, the great metropolis of the Union, was the scene of one of those horrors of civilization, which for a time make the great heart of humnity stop in its beatings. In the darkness of night, thousands of citizens were gathered in a central square of the most aristocratic quarter of New York — gathered around one of its most conspicuous and magnificent edifices, the Astor Place Opera House. This Opera House was built expressly for the performance of the Italian Opera, but has been used at intervals for the legitimate drama, for vaudevilles, and for balls and concerts. It is fitted up and decorated with taste and magnificence, and in the opera seasons has been attended by the most wealthy and fashionable people, who have made extravagant displays of luxurious adornment. While the private boxes were taken by the season, by those who wished to enjoy the music, liked the display, and could afford the expenditure, the other seats were let at a dollar admission, and the upper tier or amphitheatre was reserved for people of humbler means or more modest pretensions, at twenty-five cents a ticket. Around this edifice, we say, a vast crowd was gathered. On the stage the English actor Macready was trying to play the part of Macbeth, in which he was interrupted by hisses and hootings, and encouraged by the cheers of a large audience, who had crowded the house to sustain him. On the outside a mob was gathering, trying to force an entrance into the house, and throwing volleys of stones at the barricaded windows. In the house the police were arresting those who made the disturbance — outside they were driven back by volleys of paving stones. In the midst of this scene of clamor and outrage, was heard the clatter of a troop of horse approaching the scene. " The military — the military are coming !" was the exclamation of the crowd. Further on was heard the quick tramp of companies of infantry, and there was seen the gleam of bayonets. A cry of rage burst from the mob. The appearance of an armed force seemed to inspire them with a sudden fury. They ceased storming the Opera House, and turned their volleys against the horsemen. Amid piercing yells and execrations, men were knocked from their horses, the untrained animals were frightened, and the force was speedily routed, and could not afterwards be rallied to perform any efficient service. Now came the turn of the infantry. They marched down the sidewalk in a solid column ; but had no sooner taken up a position for the protection of the house, than they were assailed with volleys of missals. Soldiers were knocked down and carried off wounded. Officers were disabled. An attempt to charge with the bayonet was frustrated by the dense crowd seizing the muskets, and attempting to wrest them from the hands of the soldiers. At last the awful word was given to fire — there was a gleam of sulphurous light, a sharp quick rattle, and here and there in the crowd a man sank upon the pavement with a deep groan or a death rattle. Then caaie a more furious attack, and a wild yell of vengeance ! Then the rattle of another death-dealing volley, far more fatal than the first. The ground was covered with killed and wounded — the pavement was stained with blood. A panic seized the multitude, which broke and scattered in every direction. In the darkness of the night yells of rage, screams of agony, and dying groans were mingled together. Groups of men took up the wounded and the dead, and conveyed them to the neighboring apothecary shops, station-houses, and the hospital. The horrors of that night can never be described. We looked over the scene that misty midnight. The military, resting from their work of death, in siern silence were grimly guarding the Opera House. Its interior was a rendezvous and a hospital for the wounded military and police. Here and there around the building, and at the corners of the streets were crowds of men talking in deep and earnest tones of indignation. There were little processions moving off with the dead or mutilated bodies of their friends and relations. A husband, uttering frenzied curses, followed his mortally wounded wife to the hospital. An aged mother found her only son, the sole support of her declining years, in the agonies of death. Many a wife sat watching at home, in terror and alarm for her absent husband. It was an evening of dread — and it became anight of horror, which on the morrow, when the awful tragedy became more widely known, settled down upon the city like a funeral pall. The result of that night's work was the death of twenty-two victims, either shot dead upon the spot or mortally wounded, so that they died within a few days; and the wounding of some thirty more, many of whom will be maimed for life. Into the causes which led to a result so fatal, and all the circumstances attending it, it will now be our duty to inquire. I CHAPTER SECOND. FORRKST AND MACREADY. Mr. Edwin Forrest, the American Tragedian, was born, some fortv-five years ago, in the city of Philadelphia. He was born in humble life, and worked his way up from poverty and obscurity to wealth and fame, by the power of genius. When a boy, he made his first histrionic, efforts in an amateur company; afterwards, lie made a professional tour at the west. After various adventures, young Forrest found himself in the city of New-York, in the year 1826, when Gilfert was about to open the Bowery Theatre. He wanted a star of powerful attraction, and his experienced eye fell on Forrest. He was engaged — puffed in all the papers as the Native Tragedian — the patriotism of New- Yorkers was appealed to — Forrest used his mental gifts and great personal advantages with discretion and effect, and became a star of the first magnitude ; so that, in a short time, he demanded and received two hundred dollars a night for his performances; and, with energy and temperate habits, has been able to accumulate an ample fortune. After his first successes — determined to shine alone as a star of the first magnitude — he offered a prize of five hundred dollars for the best tragedy — suiting his powers as the hero; and the result was, Mr. Stone's " Metamora," Soon after, he secured the " Gladi- ator," written by Dr. Bird. These have been his most successful performances, and in them he has had no competitor, nor is it likely that he would find an equal. Mr. William C. Macready is an English actor of great eminence. He was born in the city of Cork, (Ireland,) and must now be nearly seventy years old. In the early part of his theatrical career, he was most distinguished in such parts as " Virginius," " William Tell," " Pierre," " Car win," &c. ; but of late, he has given his chief atten- tion to the plays of Shakspeare — in which he has shown himself a thorough artist. In 1827 — one year after the successful commencement of Mr. Forrest's career as a star of the first magnitude — Mr. Macready visited the United States. In a fit of petulance, in which such act- ors are too apt to indulge, Mr. Macready came near fomenting a dis- turbance in Baltimore, which, but for his adroit management, might have caused him then to have been driven from the American stage. In playing "William Tell," the property-man had forgotten to fur- nish the arrow to be broken ; and Macready was obliged to break one of his shooting arrows. In his anger at the offending party, he said — "I can't get such an arrow in your country, sir!" or, as it was reported — " I can't get wood to make such an arrow in your country !" This was construed into an insult to the country. Anonyrnous letters were sent to the newspapers ; but, as these were sent to Mr. M., he had an opportunity to make an explanation, and avoid a row. Macready and Forrest were starring through the country, playing alternate engagements — but not, so far as we know, developing any very decided feelings of rivalry. Their roles of characters, and spheres of action, were quite apart ; and when they met each other, their intercourse — as it was many years afterward — was of the most gentlemanly character. About the year 1835, Mr. Forrest went to Europe, and spent some time in travelling on the continent ; after which, he returned to America for a short time ; and then went back to England, to fulfil professional engagements — in which he was so highly success- ful, that on his return, he was honored with a public dinner in Phila- delphia ; and about this time, he was tendered a nomination to Congress by the Democracy of New- York — before whom he deliver- ed a Fourth of July oration. In 1844, Mr. Macready visited the United States. He and Mr. Forrest had become intimate in England ; and here, Mr. F. tendered him the courtesies due to so distinguished a professional brother ; but it so happened, that in most of the cities where Macready was engaged, there were more theatres than one — and, of consequence, rival managers. Where one of these had secured Mr. Macready, the other was anxious to get the best talent to be found to run against him ; and there was no one so available as Mr. Forrest — who is not the man to refuse a profitable engagement, nor did any rule of courtesy require that he should do so. The result was, that the constant rivalry of Forrest, though carried on in the most friendly manner, could not fail to injure the success of Macready. A certain degree of partizanship was everywhere excited — for Forrest was everywhere placarded as the " American Tragedian," — and the tour of Mr. Macready was comparatively a failure. A sensitive man could not but feel this ; and whether he made any complaint or not, his friends saw what the difficulty was, and felt not a little chagrined about it; and when Mr. Forrest made his next and last professional visit to England, this feeling among the friends of Macready, in the theatrical press and the play-going public, found its vent. The opposition to him was, from the first, marked and fatal ; and, so far as the metropolis was concerned, his tour was a failure. It was only in the provinces — away from Lon- don influence — that he met with any degree of success. There was no need of Mr. Macready taking any active part in this matter ; and there is no proof that he did so, but much to the con- trary ; but Mr. Forrest hastily and indignantly, and, we doubt not, sincerely, charged it upon Mr. Mac-ready ; and one night, when the latter was playing in "Hamlet," at the Theatre in Edinburgh, Mr. Forrest, who was seated in a private box, had the bad taste, as well as bad feeling, to hiss a portion of his performance in the most marked and offensive manner. The following letter from Mr. Forrest gives his own account of this affair, which differs somewhat from the statements of Mr. Macready's friends, as will be seen hereafter. To the Editor of the London Times, 
— Sir, — 
Having seen in your jonrnal of 
the 12th instant, an article headed " Professional Jealousy," a part of which ori- 
ginally appeared in The Scotsman published in Edinburgh, 1 beg Leave, through 
the medium of your, columns, to state, that at the time of its publication, 1 ad- 
dressed a letter* to the Editor of The Scotsman upon the subject, which, as I 
then was in Dumfries, I sent to a friend in Edinburgh, requesting him to obtain 
its insertion; but as I was informed, The Scotsman refused to receive any com- 
munication upon the subject. I need say nothing of the injustice of this refusal 
Here then I was disposed to let the matter rest, as upon more mature reflection, 
I did not deem it worth further attention ; but now, as the matter has assumed 
" a questionable shape" by the appearance of the article in your journal, I feel 
called upon, although reluctantly, to answer it. 

There are two legitimate modes of evincing approbation and disapprobation 
in the theatre — one expressive of approbation, by the clapping of hands, and 
the other by hisses to mark dissent; and as well-timed and hearty applause, is 
the just meed of the actor who deserves well, so also is hissing, a salutary and 
wholesome corrective of the abuses of the stage; and it was against one of these 
abuses that my dissent was expressed, and not, as was stated, " with a view of 
expressing his (my) disapproval of the manner in which Mr. Macready gave 
effect to a particular passage." The truth is, Mr. Macready thought fit to in- 
troduce a fancy dance into his performance of " Hamlet," winch I thought, and 
still think, a desecration of the scene, and at which I evinced that disapprobation, 
for which the pseudo-critic is pleased to term me an " offender," and this w T as 
the only time during the performanoe that I did so, although the writer evident- 
ly seeks, in the article alluded to, to convey a different impression. It must be 
observed also, that I was by no means " solitary" in this expression of opinion. 

That a man may manifest his pleasure or displeasure after the recognised 
mode, according to the best of his judgment, actuated by proper motives, and 
for justifiable ends, is a right, which, until now, I have never once heard ques- 
tioned, and I contend, that right extends equally to an actor, in his capacity as 
a spectator, as to any other man ; besides, from the nature of his studies, he is 
much more competent to judge of a theatrical performance than any soidisant 
critic, who has never himself been an actor. The writer of the article in The 
Scotsman, who has most unwarrantably singled me out for public animadversion, 
has carefully omitted to notice the fact, that I warmly applauded several points 
of Mr. Macready's performance ; and more than once I regretted -(hat the au- 
dience did not second me in so doing. As to the pitiful charge of professional 
jealousy preferred against me, I dismiss it with the contempt it merits, confi- 
dently relying upon all those of the profession with whom I have been associ- 
ated, for a refutation of tins slander. 

Yours, respectfully, 
Edwin Forrest. 

March, 1846. . —Times, 4th of April. 



CHAPTER THIRD. 

THE QUARREL RECOMMENCED IN AMERICA. 

Mr. Forrest, chagrined by his failure in England, and madden- 
ed at what he imagined to be the malign influence of Macready, re- 
turned to the United States after a vain attempt to secure an en- 
gagement in Paris, in which he supposed the same influence had 



10 

defeated him. He had publicly hissed Macready in Edinburgh, had 
avowed the act, and given his reasons. His friends here felt much 
as the friends of Mr. Macready hud felt in England ; and when the 
latter last year came on another professional visit to the United 
States, he found that a bitter feeling had been raised against him, 
which found its first expression, so far as we know, in the follow- 
ing article, that appeared in the Boston Mail on the morning of Mr. 
Macreadv's appearance at the Howard Athemeum, Boston, Mon- 
day, Oct. 30th, 1848. 

[Boston Mail, Oct. 30th, 1848.] 

Jlore about Macready — His abuse of Forrest in Europe — Endeavors to put him 
down in Paris, London and Edinburgh — His Intrigue with Bulwer to prevent 
Forrest pi aying m Buhner's l ) ieccs — His Abuse of Americans. 

Mr. Macready has at length arrived, and next to the grand water celebration, 

will create such excitement, as will emphatically mark the present epoch in 
time's calendar. He plays this evening at the Howard Athenaauin, and refuses 
to show himself for less than one dollar a ticket. Ibis was his price in New 
York, and with ihe exception of the first night, resulted in a " beggarly account 
of empty boxes." A -Ve repeat -what Ave said in a former article, thai 
the enterprising manager of the National Theatre, deserves immortal honors for 
not acceding to the dictatorial terms of this actor autocrat. Although Macready 
saw fit on his opening night in New York, on being called out by 'Some friends, 
to slur a " certain penny paper," that had " dared" to express an opinion regard- 
ing his talents and conduct, we shall jiot by any means give him the retort 
churlish ; we only pity his ignorance of the institutions of this country, and hope 
for his own credit's sake that he will not, when he gets home, write a black book- 
about American manners, Are, a la Trollope and others, but if he does, that he 
will spare us in the production of his brain. The reader will no doul 
what fault we find with Mr. Macready. Has lie not the same right ns other 
men have, to do as he pleases \ We answer yes. lie has a right to come to 
this country in the exercise of his profession ; he has a right to demand a dollar 
from every person who witnesses his acting, and if managers of Theatn 
willing to accede to his arbitrary proposals, he has certainly a right to make 
them. We complain not of any of these. Our charges against Macready are 
based upon more important grounds, It is his conduct in his own country in 
relation to Mr. Forrest, that we are about investigating; his inhospitality, his 
crushing influence, his vindictive opposition, <nt<J Iiis steadfast determination to 
ruin the prospects of that ; in England, thai wo bring to his door. 

Let him deny them if lie can. Every true American takes a pride in that 
which represents liis country's interests, industry, and enterprise, and from the 
smallest commodity gathered from his soil to the Loftiesi Labors of his genius, 
his ambition goes with it, and the strong arm of his power will protect it in 

every clime. Mr. Edwin Forrest is titled the American Tragedian — he is justly 
entitled to that honor — he has acquired it by his own labors; from a poor boy 
in a circus, lie has arisen to I 8 a man of fame and wealth, all of which ! 
lastingly gained by enterprise and talent, and secured both by economy and 

TKMlM.l: 

Every American-born man is willing thai Mr. Forresl should wear this title, 

and when he vbiied England they were anxiously interested in his success. 

Macready had previously been in this country, and played engagements in 

every city, and made a fortune. He was extolled by the press, and treated as 

a gentleman by the citizens of everj place he visited, but instead of returning 

this kindness, lie acted openly toward- Mr. !•'< -i i .-t as his determined fee. We 

speak by card, and write upon the very best information, viz., the highest autho- 
rity. In Paris Mr. Macready and Mr. Forrest met. The latter was anxious to 



11 

appear on the French boards ; but Macready threw obstacles in the way, and 
this was the first time that the (wo parties were enemies. Mr. Mitchell, the 
enterprising lessee of St. James Theatre in London, took an English company of 

actors to the French capital, with Mr. Macready at the head of the list. Mac- 
ready was to he the hero — the great attraction of Paris, lie failed, however, 
to draw money to the treasury, and Mr. Mitchell lost a large sum by the specu- 
lation, or rather would have lost it, if Louis Philippe had not made him most 
liberal presents. Mr. Forrest had letters of introduction to Mr. Mitchell from 
his friends in London, but Macready was jealous, lest Forrest should prove to 
be the great star, and he cautioned Mitchell not to allow Forrest to appear. 
The result was that Mr. Mitchell refused to see Mr. Forrest. 

The parties returned to London. The hypocrisy of Macready is apparent in 
his note of invitation to Mr. Forrest to dine with him. The latter, knowing the 
intrigue that had been carried on in Paris between Macready and Mitchell, re- 
fused, as every high-minded man should, to dine with him. This is a very diffe- 
rent version to that recently given by some of Macready's friends — if friends he 
have — that Forrest was offended because he was not invited to dine ; as if such 
a man as Mr. Forrest could take offence at such a trifle, when at the same time 
he was invited to dine with many of the leading nobility of England, but espe- 
cially of Scotland, where he passed several months as their guest. 

The next mean act towards Forrest, brought about through the influence of 
Macready, was when Mr. F. appeared at the Princess's Theatre in London. 
Mac had been endeavoring for a long time" to effect an engagement with some 
London manager, but was unsuccessful. The success of Forrest stung him, and 
he resolved to " put him down." It was said at the time that he or his friends 
actually hired men to visit the theatre, and hiss Forrest off the stage, and For- 
rest was consequently received with a shower of hisses before he was heard. 
This mean conduct was followed up by the press, by which Forrest was most 
outrageously assailed, and not Forrest alone, but Ins country, which is proud 
to own him as one of her sons. 

Forrest and Macready next met in Edinburgh, and from this city were sent 
forth the grossest calumnies against Forrest. Macready was playing at the 
Theatre Royal in Hamlet — Forrest was present. During the beginning of the 
piece Mr. Forrest applauded several times, and, as we are informed by an eye- 
witness, he started the applause when some brilliant effect had been given to a 
passage, so that the whole house followed him. But now comes Forrest's great 
sin — that giant sin which Mac will never forgive — the sin of hissing Macready 
for dancing and throwing up his handkerchief across the stage in the Pas de 
Mouchoir. 

Mi\ F. not only hissed, but the whole house hissed, and yet Macready dared to 
write to London, that Forrest had singly and alone attempted to hiss him from 
the stage. 

To show that Mr. Forrest was not alone in this matter, we are able to state 
that two weeks afterwards Hamlet was repeated, when the whole house again 
liissed Macready's dance across the stage. 

Out of this simple incident Macready contrived to create a great deal of sym- 
pathy for himself. He is, or was, part proprietor of the London Examiner ; or 
if not sole owner, he possesses the body and soul of its theatrical critic, Foster, 
who does all kinds of dirty work for his master. Macready gave the cue to Fos- 
ter, and Forrest was denounced by the Examiner and other papers, in which 
Foster or Mac had any influence. A false coloring was put on this affair, and 
Mac appeared to the world as a persecuted man, whereas Forrest was the one 
who met with persecution at every corner — in Paris, in London, in Edinburgh, 
and in London a second time. 

But Macready's persecution did not stop here. Forrest wished to appear hi 
London, in Bulwer's Lady of Lyons and Richelieu. To do this, permission must 
be obtained of the author. Forrest addressed a note to Bulwer, asking his terms 
for the plays. After a long delay, Bulwer replied, that he should charge For- 
rest £2 per night for the use of them, and he must play 40 nights ! Such terms 
for plays, that had in a great measure lost their interest, compelled Forrest to 
reject them. It was ascertained that Macready and Bulwer had been much to- 



12 

gether, and that the former had prevailed on the latter not to allow Forrest the 
use of his compositions. 

Forrest could not entertain any jealous feelings towards Mac, for he drew 
crowded houses during his engagement at the Princess's Theatre, whereas Mac- 
ready had very slim audiences ; and on one occasion we know that our own 
charming actress, Mrs. Barrett, on one of the off-nights, at the time Mac was 
playing, actually chew more money to the treasury than Macready. 

We have now given a plain statement of facts, and such as cannot be contro- 
verted. It proves that actors, like Macready, Anderson, and others, find it very 1 
hard scratching in their own country, and much better pickings here. It is to be 
hoped, however, that we Americans will finally become awakened to the mer- 
cenary motives of such artistes, and when we have any surplus of dollars to 
spend, that we will be generous and just to our own home genius. 

Here is displayed the feeling of the friends of Mr. Forrest, and to 
a great extent of Mr. Forrest himself, for the writer of this article 
asserts that its statements are made on the "very highest authority." 
On his part Mr. Macready unwisely alluded to this article in one of 
his before-the-curtain speeches, speaking contemptuously of the at- 
tacks of a certain penny paper. But the Bostonians are a quiet peo- 
ple, and Macready and Forrest played through their engagements 
without any popular demonstration. At New York Macready play- 
ed at the Opera House, and Forrest at the Broadway Theatre. 
There were rumors of a disturbance, but they amounted to nothing. 
Both engagements were finished in peace, and both actors went to 
fulfil engagements at the rival theatres in Philadelphia. 

Now Forrest had made some pretence of retiring from the stage — 
he had built him a splendid castle on the banks of the Hudson, and 
had achieved a splendid fortune — but here he was, following up 
Macready step by step, and making no concealment of his enmity. 
His friends were doubtless busy, especially in Philadelphia, his birth 
place. The two actors made mouths and speeches at each other. 
One night Macready alluded to the ungenerous treatment he had 
received from a rival actor. This brought Forrest out in the follow- 
ing 

CARD. 

Mr. Macready, in his speech, lagt night, to the audience assembled at the Arch 
Street Theatre, made allusion, I understand, to "an American actor'' who had 
the temerity, on one occasion, " open/;/ to hiss him." This is true, and by the 
way, the only truth which I have been enabled to gather from the whole scope 
of liis address. ]hit why say " an American actor?" Why not openly charge 
me witli the act? for I did it, and publicly avowed it in the Times newspaper 
of London, and at the same time asserted my righl to do so. 

On the occasion alluded to, Mr. Macready introduced a fancy dance into his 

performance of Hamlet, which I designated as &peu de mouehoir, and which I 

: for [ thought it a desecration of the scene, and the audience thought so 

too, for in a lew nights afterwards, when Mr. Macready repeated the part of 
Hamlet, with the same " turn foolery," the intelligenl audience ni Bdinbuigfe 
greeted it with a universal hiss. 

Mr. Macready is slated to have said last, right, "thai np to the time of this act 
on my part, he had "never entertained towards me a reeling of unkindnets." I 
unhesitatingly pronounce this to be a wilful and unblushing falsehood. I moHt 
solemnly aver and do believe, thai Mr. Macready, instigated by his narrow anvi 

ous mind, and his selfish fears, did tecretlff— not open/;/ — suborn several writoi 



13 

for the English press, to write me down. Among them was one Forster, a 
" toady" of the eminent tragedian — one who is ever ready to do his dirty work ; 
and this Forster, at the bidding of lus patron, attacked me in print even before I 
appeared upon the London boards, and continued his abuse at every opportuni- 
ty afterwards. 

I assert, also, and solemnly believe, that Mr. Macready connived, when lus 
friends went to the theatre in London to hiss me, and did hiss me, with the pur- 
pose of driving me from the stage — and all tliis happened many months before 
the affair at Edinburgh, to which Mr. Macready refers, and in relation to which 
he jesuitically remarks, that " until that act, he never entertained towards me a 
feeling of unkindness." Bah ! Mr. Macready has no feeling of kindness for any 
actor who is likely, by his talent, to stand in his way. His whole course as 
manager and as actor proves this — there is nothing in him but self — self — self — 
and his own countrymen, the English actors, know this well. Mr. Macready lias 
a very lively imagination, and often draws upon it for his facts. He said in a 
speech at New York, that there, also, there was an " organized opposition" to 
him, which is likewise false. There was no opposition manifested towards him 
there — for I was in the city at the time, and was careful to watch every move- 
ment with regard to such a matter. Many of my friends called upon me when 
Mr. Macready was announced to perform, and proposed to drive him from the 
stage for his conduct towards me in London. My advice was, do nothing — let 
the superannuated driveller alone — to oppose him would be but to make him of 
some importance. My friends agreed with me it was, at least, the most dignified 
course to pursue, and it was immediately adopted. With regard to " an organ- 
ized opposition to him" in Boston, this is, I believe, equally false, but perhaps in 
charity to the poor old man, I should impute these " chimeras dire," rather to 
the disturbed state of his guilty conscience, than to any desire on his part wilful- 
ly to misrepresent. 

Edwin Forrest. 

Philadelphia, Nov. 21, 1848. 

This violent and vindictive, but characteristic manifesto, as may 
be supposed, did not help Mr. Forrest's cause very materially, with 
quiet and well-judging people, but it probably found sympathy 
among heated partizans, and those who supposed the honor and 
glory of the country was at stake. Mr. Macready appears to have 
made up his mind at once to sue Forrest for a libel, and accordingly 
he issued the following : — 

CARD 

TO THE PUBLIC OF PHILADELPHIA. 

In a card published in the Public Ledger and other morning papers of this 
day, Mr. Forrest having avowed himself the author of the statements, which Mr. 
Macready has solemnly pledged his honor to be without the least foundation, 
Mr. Macready cannot be wanting in self-respect so far as to bandy words upon 
the subject, but as the circulation of such statements is manifestly calculated to 
prejudice Mr. Macready in the opinion of the American Public, and affect both 
nis professional interests and his estimation in society, Mr. Macready respectful- 
ly requests the public to suspend their judgment upon the question, until the 
decision of a Legal Tribunal, before which he will immediately take measures to 
bring it, and before which he will prove lus veracity, hitherto unquestioned, shall 
place the truth beyond doubt. 

Reluctant as he is to notice further Mr. Forrest's Card, Mr. Macready has to 
.observe, that when Mr. Forrest appeared at the Princess's Theatre in London, 
he himself was absent some hundred miles from that city, and was ignorant of 
his engagement until after it had begun ; that not one single notice on Mr. 
Foirest's acting appeared in the Examiner during that engagement (as its 



14 

files will prove,) Mr. Forster, the distinguished Editor, whom Mr. Macready has 
the honor to calL his friend, having been confined to his bed with a rheumatic 
fever during the whole period, and some weeks before and after. 

For the other aspersions npon Mr. Macready, published in the Boston Mail, 
and now, as it is understood, avowed by Mr. Forrest, Mr. Macready will without 
delay appeal for legal redress. 

Jones's Hotel, Hov. 22d, 1848. 

Immediately after publishing the above, Mr. Macready committed 
to Lis counsel, Messrs. Reed cv; Meredith, of Philadelphia, authority 
to commence such legal proceedings as they might deem advisable : 
and, preparatory thereto, he obtained from England the documenta- 
ry evidence. 

As regards the charge of suborning the English press, it will be 
sufficient here to refer to the Times, Globe, Observer, Spectator, 
Morning Chronicle, Morning Post, Weekly Dispatch, Britannia, evrc, 
&c, of dates Dec. 13, 14, 15, 16, &c, which have indignantly and 
emphatically denied the charge ; many of which denials have already 
been republished in the American newspapers. 

It appears, however, that when Mr. Macready came to consult his 
legal advisers, two eminent Philadelphia lawyers, they wisely advised 
him to let the matter drop, and be satisfied with his reputation. So 
Macready went South, and was feted and feasted in New Orleans to 
his heart's content, but to the grievous discontent of Mr. Forrest and 
his numerous admirers. 

In the meantime, Macready had written to England for evidence to 
prove that the statements in Mr. Forrest's Philadelphia card were 
libelous ; and when he decided to give up his law suit, he caused 
these documents to be printed in a pamphlet, which hoAvever, he 
soon withdrew from public circulation. There were letters from 
Edinburgh to prove that Mr. Forrest was alone in hissing the "fancy 
dance" in Hamlet; letters from* the proprietor and theatrical critic 
of the London Examiner, to show that Macready had not influenced 
any criticisms on Forrest in that paper; from Sir E. Bulwer Lytton, 
asserting that he had offered his plays to Mr. Forrest for a fair consid- 
eration, and had not withheld them at the request of Mr. Macready, 
with other equally pertinent documents. Hut what avail were these? 
The friends of Forresi felt sure? that he had been shamefully treated 
in England, by the friends of Macready ; and whether he was a party 
to the matter or not, they meant to hold him responsible, and there- 
fore it was determined that lie should never play another engage- 
ment in New Fork, and that determination was enforced, but oh I at 
what a fearful sacrifice. 



15 



CHAPTER FOURTH, 

THE PLOT THICKENS THE ENGAGEMENT AT THE OPERA. HOUSE — > 

MAOREADI DRIVEN FROM THE STAGE. 

It must not be supposed that this was the first manifestation of 
patriotic indignation on the part of the friends of Mr. Forre! . 
account of his treatment in England. It was a deep and v 
feeling, and was ready to burst out on any fitting occasion. It 
threatened Mr. Anderson, and in Philadelphia an effort was made to 
drive him from the stage ; but a better feeling prevailed. Anderson 
was not charged witli any ill-will to Mr. Forrest, and the opposition 
to him was abandoned : yet there were not wanting persons who 
contended that every English actor ought to be driven from the 
American stage, in revenge for the insult offered by England to this 
country, in the person of Edwin Forrest. 

But when Macready, who was charged by Forrest himself with 
being the head and front of this offending, came to the United States, 
the flame of hatred was ready to burst forth, and the only wonder 
is, that it remained pent up so long. On his return from the South, 
Messrs. Niblo and Hackett, who had taken the Opera House for that 
purpose, announced that Mr. Macready would open an engagement 
on Monday night, May 7th. Mr. Forrest was playing at the Broad way 
Theatre. Previous to the commencement of this engagement, Mr. 
Macready gave a reading of a play of Shakspeare before the teachers 
of the public schools of New York and Brooklyn. 

The announcement of this engagement was the signal for an out- 
break of long-smothered indignation. It was determined that Mr. 
Forrest should be avenged, and that Macready should not be permitted 
to play before a New York audience. There was a combination of 
exciting causes — the feeling against England and Englishmen, handed 
down to us from the Revolution, and kept fresh by the insults and 
abuse of British writers on American manners — the injury committed 
against Forrest, with Macready as its presumed cause, and this was 
increased by the fact of Macready playing at the aristocratic, kid- 
glove Opera House. Far be it from us to justify these feelings — it 
is our duty simply to state the fact of their existence. 

The public and magistrates have been accustomed to look upon 
theatrical disturbances, rows, and riots, as different in their character 
from all others. The stage is presumed to be a correction of the 
manners and morals of the public, and on the other hand the public 
has been left to correct, in its own energetic way, the manners and 
morals of the stage ; and magistrates, looking upon it as a matter 
betw r een the actors and the audience, have generally refused to 
interfere, unless there was a prospect of a violent breach of the 
peace, when they have usually ordered the house to be closed. In 
these theatrical disturbances, performances have been hissed, plays 
damned, and actors and actresses driven from the stage, with 



J6 

whatever degree of force has been necessary for their rejection. This, 
has been the practice in the United States, as well as in Europe, and 
no actor, in any free country, has thought of acting with a posse of 
police at his back ; much less, a file of soldiers, or a piece of artillery, 
to defend his rights. 

On the announcement of Mr. Macready's engagement at the Opera 
House, it was determined that there should be a pretty forcible 
expression of opinion on the part of those who were indignant at the 
treatment of Mr. Forrest in England, and were willing, for any reason, 
to revenge it on Mr. Macready. There was, doubtless, some organi- 
zation of forces, to bring about this result, and one person, the well- 
known Capt. Rvnders, admits that he purchased and distributed 
among his friends fifty tickets, with the understanding that those Avho 
used them were to assist in hissing Macready from the stage. Other 
sums of money were given, and when the night arrived, it was esti- 
mated, by the Chief of Police, that not less than five hundred persons 
were engaged in the disturbance. 

The night came — the house was crowded, and there was an ominous 
looking gallery. The curtain rose, and some of the actors, who were 
popular favorites, were received with obstreperous applause ; but 
when Macready appeared upon the stage, in the character of Macbeth, 
he was assailed by a storm of hisses, yells, and a clamor that defies 
description. He stood his ground firmly, and the play went on, but 
not a word could be heard by the audience. It was in dumb show. 
The clamor rose higher and higher, and as hisses and threats, cat-calls 
and yells, were not enough to drive the obnoxious actor from the 
stage, less legitimate means were resorted to. Rotten eggs were 
thrown, pennies, and other missues ; and soon, still more outrageous 
demonstrations were made, and chairs were thrown from the upper 
part of the house, so as to peril life. 

The Chief of Police was present, with a number of policemen ; 
but the rioters boldly defied the authorities, and no arrests were 
attempted. It is said, in excuse, that the rioters were in overpow- 
ering numbers, that they were prepared to resist and rescue, and that 
they had even prepared papers of gunpowder to throw into the 
magnificent chandelier. A large portion of the audience consisted 
of ladies, whose lives might have been endangered, and there was 
nothing to do but to stop the performance. The curtain went down ; 
cheers were given for Forrest, and groans for Macready, and the 
crowd dispersed. 

Mr. Macready supposed that his engagement was terminated. 
He had no idea of ever making a second appearance; but his friends 
and the enemies of Forrest insisted upon a different course. 1 1 « - was 
assured that the public would sustain him, and the managers did not 
wish to lose the profits of his engagement. Mr. Hacketl is a personal 
enemy of Forrest, and he was determined to play Macready against 
him at all hazards. Finally, a number of influential citizens, men of 
wealth and standing, with Washington Irving at their head, wrote a 
forma] request to Mr, Macready that he should play out his engage- 
ment! and pledging themselves that the public should sustain him; 



17 

and it was determined and announced that he should appear on 
Thursday evening, May 10th. 

This announcement, as may be supposed, excited the indignation 
of those who had driven him from the stage. It was a combination 
of the aristocracy against the people, and in support of English 
arrogance, and it was determined that Macready should not play, and 
that he and his supporters should be put down at all hazards. The 
lessees of the Theatre were informed that the re-opening of the 
Theatre with Mr. Macready, would be the signal for riot ; the magis- 
trates of the city were informed of it, and were implored to avert 
the calamity by refusing to allow the house to be opened — for as the 
city authorities have the right to regulate Theatres, and to make 
them pay five hundred dollars a year for a license, it was presumed 
that they had also the right to close them. So thought the Mayor, 
and so he wished to act ; but the lessees insisted upon their legal 
rights, and demanded the protection of the authorities, and the fatal 
decision was made which made New York, a few hours afterward, 
one wide scene of horror. 



CHAPTER FIFTH. 



THE COMBAT DEEPENS. 



The announcement that Mr. Macready would appear at the Opera 
House in Macbeth on Thursday evening produced a varied excitement 
throughout the community. Those who thought the city disgraced 
by the scenes of Monday night were anxious to have that disgrace 
atoned for by his successful re-appearance, while those who sympa- 
thized with the mob that drove him from the stage, looked upon his 
re-appearance as a new insult, and the manner in which it was 
brought about was as irritating to them as the act itself. 

A riot was anticipated by all who were acquainted with the cir- 
cumstances, except, perhaps the object of popular indignation. Mr. 
Macready was assured that there would be no difficulty, and he 
seems to have believed it — but those who so assured him well un- 
derstood that those who had triumphantly driven him from the stage 
on Monday were not likely to submit quietly to his re-appearance. 

Thursday morning, the leaders on both sides were active. The 
friends of Forrest Avere gathering their forces, and distributing tick- 
ets for the night's performance, while the lessees of the Opera 
House applied to the mayor and other authorities of New York for 
protection. Inflammatory handbills had been posted upon the 
walls of the city, calculated to increase the excitement. In the may- 
or's office, the recorder, the chief of police, the sheriff, major-gene- 
ral Sandford, and brigadier-general Hall, were assembled to consult 



18 

on the means of protecting the Opera House, and enabling Mr. 
Macready to play Macbeth. 

The mayor, Mr. Woodhull, advised Niblo and Hackett to close the 
house, and to avoid a riot, and the probable destruction of property 
and life ; but these gentlemen were determined to stand upon their 
rights, and the city authorities decided, after consulting together, to 
sustain them,, if necessary, with all the force at their disposal. Mr. 
Matsell, the chief of police, was asked if the civil force at his dis- 
posal would be sufficient for the preservation of the peace, and 
though he had nine hundred salaried policemen at his disposal, and 
the power of calling in specials at discretion, he gave it as his opinion 
that this force was not sufficient. It was thought necessary to call 
out the military. 

It has been boldly questioned whether all these extraordinary 
preparations would have been made to protect the legal rights of 
humble citizens. Rich and influential men had invited Mr. Mac- 
ready to play at the aristocratic Opera House. Suppose it had 
been some third-rate actor at the Chatham ; suppose the request for 
him to play had come from the patrons of that establishment. The 
abstract question of right would have been the same ; but.there are 
many who would doubt whether the city authorities would have 
taken the extraordinary measure of calling out the military — and 
this was probably the first time such a thing was ever done under 
any but the most despotic governments. 

The fact of the chief of police declaring that his force was not 
sufficient to preserve the peace — the fact that general Sandford was 
ordered to call out a military force sufficient for the emergency, 
proves that the nature and extent of the approaching riot was well 
understood by the authorities, and still no means were used to pre- 
vent it. It seems to have been their policy to let it gather, and come 
to a head, when, one would suppose, it might easily have been scat- 
tered. Had the police arrested a few of the leaders, and kept a 
close watch on the rioters — had they taken possession of the vicinity 
of the Opera House in force, and prevented the gathering of a 
crowd around it, it seems probable that the peace of the city, and 
the rights of Mr. Macready might have been maintained at a tri- 
fling sacrifice. But a different course was decided upon, and the 
preparations of the military and police were made accordingly. The 
chief detached two hundred policemen, to be stationed inside the 
Opera House. He also placed a detachment in the stable of Mr. 
Langdon, on the opposite side of Astor Place, and another body in 
a yard near by. General Sandford ordered out companies from se- 
veral regiments, as will be more particularly stated hereafter. 

And now the news spread all over the city that there was to be a 
riot. The warning out of large bodies of military, was alone suffi- 
cient to excite curiosity ; and yet, in all this excitement and antici- 
pation of outrage, the mayor issued no warning proclamation. There 
was no one to toil hot-headed and misguided men, that it would be 
at the peril of their lives, it' they disturbed the peace. It is evident 
that they thought they had a right to prevent Macready from playing. 



19 

They were doing no more by him than the English had done by 
Forrest, and they looked upon it as a piece of retributive justice. 

It must not be forgotten, that New York, for many years, has been 
a very quiet city. For ten years, there had not been one serious 
riot. The principles of law and order are habitually acknowledged, 
and have seldom been violated. While Philadelphia has been, for 
years, the scene of the most disgraceful outrages, New York has not 
known a more serious disturbance than could be controlled by a few 
policemen. But in this case, every body rushed into a fatal riot, 
witli a mad precipitation. The calling out of the military sent 
thousands to the scene of conflict, who would not otherwise have 
gone, swelled the crowd, encouraged the rioters, and contributed to 
the fatal result. 

It is easy to say, people had no business there ; they ought to 
have kept away. It would be hard to show that those who were 
outside the house had not as good a right to gratify their curiosity 
as those within. But, right or wrong, we know very well what 
people will do in such a case. Let it be given out that there is to 
be a disturbance at any place, and that the military have been called 
out to put it down, and the consequence will be a gathering crowd, 
and, if there is the slightest seeming cause, a formidable riot. It 
seems that all the means used on the tenth of May, to preserve the 
peace, only helped to bring about the terrible catastrophe. 

Mr. Forrest has been charged with actively fomenting these dis- 
turbances. Such a charge was made in the Courier & Enquirer, 
but it was promptly retracted, under threat of prosecution for libel, 
from Mr. Sedgwick, Forrest's legal counsel. It does not appear that 
he moved at all in the matter. He stood passive, and let the affair 
shape itself as it might, as there is reason to suppose Mr. Macready 
had done, in England. On the night of the riot, Forrest played to a 
full house at the Broadway Theatre. 

It would seem, after the publication of the card, signed by Wash- 
ington Irving, Charles King, and about fifty others, denouncing the 
outrages of Monday night, and pledging themselves to sustain 
Macready, that the contest took on a new character. Macready was 
a subordinate personage, and he was to be put down less on his own 
account, than to spite his aristocratic supporters. The question 
became not only a national, but a social one. It was the rich against 
the poor — the aristocracy against the people ; and this hatred of 
wealth and privilege is increasing over the world, and ready to burst 
out whenever there is the slightest occasion. The rich and well-bred 
are too apt to despise the poor and ignorant, and they must not think 
it strange if they are hated in return. 



20 

CHAPTER SIXTH. 

THE SCENES OF THE FATAL NIG-HT. 

As the- hour for the opening of the Opera House approached, ex- 
cited crowds began to gather from all parts of the city. Hundreds 
of men were seen walking rapidly up Broadway. There was a great 
rush for tickets, and at an early hour the house was declared full, 
and the sale of tickets suspended. Among the audience in the 
house were seven ladies. The police were at their stations, and the 
doors and windows were strongly barricaded. 

It should here be stated that the Opera House is situated midway 
between Broadway and the Bowery, one side fronting on Eighth 
Street, the other on Astor Place. The end toward Broadway is 
covered by buildings, but there is an open space to the Bowerv. 

While the crowd was Catherine; outside, and endeavoring to force 
an entrance, in which they were prevented by the police, the curtain 
rose, and the mock tragedy commenced. Mr. Clark, an American 
actor, was vociferously applauded in the part of Macduff. The en- 
trance of Mr. Macready in the third scene was the signal for a storm 
of cheers, groans, hisses, and yells: The whole audience rose, and 
the greatest part, who were friendly to Macready, cheered and 
waved their hats and handkerchiefs ; but when these cheers were 
spent, the noise had not subsided. A large body in the parquette, 
and another in the amphitheatre hissed and groaned, and the con- 
test was kept up until a placard was displayed on the stage, on 
which was written — " The friends of order will remain quiet." The 
friends of disorder, however, kept up their noise through the first 
act, when the recorder and chief of police decided to quell the tu- 
mult ; and in a few moments the noisiest of the rioters were arrested, 
and conveyed to a room in the basement, and the play went on in 
comparative quietness. 

But by the time the tumult was suppressed in the house, it had 
gained its height on the outside. A vast crowd numbering ten or 
fifteen thousand, had gathered around the building, chiefly in Astor 
Place, and by the time the arrests were made in the house, and pro- 
bably in consequence of some communication between the rioters in 
the theatre and their friends outside, the house began to be assailed 
with largq paving stones, of which, owing to the digging of a sewer 
near by, there was a large supply. The stones crashed against the 
windows, and in Borne instances broke through the barricades. After 
the tragedy was over, the farce commenced, but it was brought to 
an end by the firing of the military : and the alarmed and excited 
audience left the theatre by the entrance in Eighth Street, under the 
cover ,pf the military, while Mr. Macready got away in the disguise 

of an officer; and mounting a horse, escorted i»y a party of his 

friends, he left the city, and the aexl day took the cars for Boston, 
whence a fe v days afterward he sailed to Europe. Before leaving 



21 

he expressed the deepest regret that he had not refused to appear 
again, in accordance with his first intention. 

From the testimony of the actors and spectators of the terrible 
scenes which occurred that night, we have selected four accounts — 
that of Sidney H. Stewart, Esq. Clerk of the Police, a man of 
observation and experience in that department ; that of Major 
Gexeral Sandford, the Commander-in-Chief of the military ; that 
of Stephen W. Gaines, Esq. and Thomas J. Belvin, Esq. disinter- 
ested spectators. From the sworn testimony of these four witnesses, 
may be gathered a pretty correct idea of the action of the public 
authorities, the police, the military, the rioters, and the spectators. 

TESTIMONY OF SIDNEY H. STEWART. 

Sidxey H. Stewart, Clerk of the Police, states -what he saw and heard before 
the arrival of the military : " I left the Tombs that evening in company with 
Justice McGrath, and arrived at the Astor Theatre about 7 o'clock ; soon after 
the doors were opened, the audience were assembling ; on entering the house, I 
found the theatre rilled with people and a large body of the police ; most of the 
police magistrates were there ; Judge Edmonds was there also ; the under- 
standing with the magistrates, Judge Edmonds, and the Chief of Police, and 
Recorder, was that no arrests should be made in the house, unless some overt 
act was committed, tending absolutely to a breach of the peace ; the usual indul- 
gence was to be allowed as to the hissing and applauding ; that rule was observed. 
In the course of the evening, demonstrations were made by several in the par- 
quette, by shaking their fists at Macready, threatening him with violence, by 
twelve or fifteen persons, certainly not to exceed twenty ; an application was 
made at this time to the Chief of Police to arrest them, and remove them from 
the house ; he delayed the order for some time, and finally sent for the Recorder 
to consult with him on the propriety of making arrests ; after a consultation, it 
was concluded to make the arrests, which was done; in less than five minutes 
they were taken into custody, and order comparatively restored ; about this time 
a great deal of hissing was heard in the amphitheatre, and loud applauding ; the 
plav was still going on ; several arrests were made in the amphitheatre, by order 
of the Chief of Police and Recorder ; about this time, the first breach of peace 
on the house was a large paving stone which came through the window into the 
house ; the house continued to be assailed from those without ; an alarm was 
given that a fire was below under the dress circle ; it was soon extinguished ; 
large stones were thrown at the doors on Eighth street, smashing in the panels, 
and doing other damage ; the police were ordered into Eighth street, say fifteen 
men ; on my going into the street, I saw a large concourse of people, but those 
near the door of the theatre were mostly boys, who were apparently throwing 
stones ; several of them were arrested by the police and brought in; I cannot 
say how many were aiding in the disturbance, but certainly a very small propor- 
tion to the crowd collected ; the policemen arrested some six or ten of them, and 
the attack on the door in Eighth street ceased ; the attack then, after these arrests, 
was made with more violence on the front of the theatre in Astor-place ; a very 
large crowd was collected, yet I could pass in and out with ease, comparatively ; 
this crowd did not appear to be very turbulent ; a very large number appeared 
to be citizens looking on, and not aiding in the disturbance ; the majority of those 
throwing stones were boys from the ages of 1 2 to 18 years ; several of the 
policemen at this time complained of being struck with stones and badly hurt ; 
the policemen kept making arrests, and bringing them in ; I cannot say how 
many ; the crowd appeared to be increasing and more dense ; the mob appeared 
to be determined to accomplish some particular act ; there seemed to be a strong 
determination, although they only threw stones ; the force of policemen on 
Astor-place amounted to from fifty to seventy-five ; the mob then continued to 
throw stones ; the militarv then came." 



22 

TESTIMONY OF MAJOR-GENERAL SANDFORD. 

1 am Major General commanding the military forces of this county. On 
Thursday last, I received a message from the Mayor, requesting me to come to 
his office. I went there, and found the magistrates named by the Mayor assem- 
bled. The Mayor informed me of the object of my being sent for. The Mayor 
has stated correctly my reply, when I was asked in relation to the expediency 
of issuing an order to call out the Military. After it was decided to issue the 
order, it was understood by the Magistrates present, that the effort should be 
lust made by the civil authority to preserve the peace, and that the Military 
should not be called out until that effort failed. I left the Mayor's office after 
this mid er standing, and then received this order : 

Mayor's Office, City Hall, May 10, 1849. 
Having reason to apprehend a serious riot this evening, which will require 
more force to preserve the peace than is possessed by the police, Major General 
Sandford is requested to hold a sufficient military force in readiness to meet the 
apprehended emergency. C. S. WOODHULL, Mayor. 

After receiving this order, I ordered one Regiment — the 7th — of Infantry to 
assemble at the Artillery drill rooms, and one troop of Light Artillery with two 
6 pound field pieces, to muster at the Arsenal. I directed a small detachment of 
Infantry to protect the pieces. The regiment, when assembled, on account of the 
shortness of the notice, consisted of but little over two hundred men. The 
regiment is known to the citizens by the title of the National Guard. I went 
myself, in the evening, to the Artillery drill rooms, and informed the Magistrate 
that I would remain there to await orders. I understood there was to be a large 
Police force at the Theatre. Many of the Magistrates thought this force would 
be sufficient without the military. The regiment was under the command of 
Col. Duryea. There are eight Captains in the regiment. I cannot say they 
were all present. Capts. Shumway, Underlull, Pond and Price, were present. 
We remained there until a verbal message came to me from the sheriff the purport 
of which was, that a mob had attacked the house and driven in the Police force, 
and were assailing the building ; this was between Sand 9 o'clock, as well as I 
can remember. On receiving this notice, I immediately ordered the Regiment 
to get ready for marching, and to distribute their ammunition, which consisted of 
one thousand rounds of ball cartridges , I sent at the same time an order to the 
Arsenal yard for the horse belonging to the Regiment to come up immediately 
to the drill rooms, and march with us to the grounds. The horsemen carried only 
their sabres ; the troops were put on the march, and moved rapidly up Broadway 
to Astor-place; the field pieces were Left at the Arsenal ; no order was given to 
the artillery. I Was not aware, until L got to the ground, of the extent of the 
mob; 1 thought the force 1 had with me, in connection with the Police force, 
would be sufficient to preserve the peace. Before getting on the ground, I 
mounted my horse, and took charge of the cavalry, directing the tnfantry to 

follow close after us. The horsemen, on entering Astor-place. were formed ten 

ahead, and advanced in that order until wegol nearly opposite the corner of the 
Opera Souse; at this place, we were assailed with a shower of stones and bride 

bats, by which almost every man was hurt, and the hoises rendered almost 

unmanageable ; the men pushed rapidly through Aster place, ami through the 
whole distance were assailed with a shower oi stones; the infantry followed 

them. The mob extended from Astor-place to the Bowery; the mounted men, 

being COnspicUOUfl mark-, received inOSl of the stone-, and were driven off the 
ground. I dismounted, returned through the mob, and took charge of the 

Infantry. 'I: • ere halted in Line across the open space beyond the theatre, 
with a dense mob on both Bides of then, who were assailing them with all 
of opprobrious epithets, and trequenl volleys of .-tone-. 1 ordered CoL Duryea 
to form a column of division for the purpose of clearing the ground in the rear 
of the theatre, intending after* aid (<• go to the front. The columns were formed 
promptly, and moved forward through die mob, until stopped hv an excavation 
m the ground, which 1 had not previously seen, on aoooun rknes of the 



2S 

night. We filed around tins broken ground, and cleared tin* rear of the thcatte 
the mob retreating before us as we advanced Two bodies of troops were 

stationed at each end of the theatre, extending across the street I then Kent in 
for the Sheriff and One!' of Police. Mr. Matsell furnished sufficient of the 
police to take the place of the two lines of military, and the whole were then 
put under march ; passed through Eighth-st to Broadway, and around into Astor- 
place, the Sheriff at my request accompanied us. We moved down Astor-place 
until we got a little past the centre! of the theatre. The mob partially retreated 
to the middle and opposite side of the street ; they commenced an attack on the 
military by throwing paving stones. The paving in this vicinity had been taken 
up for the purpose, as I was informed, of laying down water pipes and building 
a sewer. I ordered the regiment to be divided and to form in two lines across 
the street ; the right wing advanced toward the Bowery, and the left toward 
Broadway, with the view of driving the mob each way from the front of the 
theatre ; during this period, the men were constantly assailed with showers of 
stones and brickbats, and many were seriously hurt ; a number of men near by 
and Gen. Hall were struck with stones, and dangerously injured. After giving 
this order, I advanced toward the middle of the street to Captain Shumway, who 
led the first company, with Col. Duryea by his side, being outside myself next the 
mob ; the Sheriff was behind me ; at this time, we were assailed by a volley of 
stones, by which about eight out of eleven of the first platoon were more or less 
injured. Myself, Col. Dur*a, and Capt. Shumway were injured. At this time, 
a pistol was fired by some man in the mob, by which Capt. Shumway was 
wounded in the leg, and, as I believe, Gen. Hall in the face. Previous to this, the 
crowd had been repeatedly notified by Gen. Hall and myself, and by other persons 
whose voices I did not recognise, that they must disperse or they would be fired 
upon. I was at this time partly knocked down, and When I arose, I found three 
or four of the front rank partly down, and the head of the column forced back 
tow r ard the Opera House, the shower of stones at this time being incessant ; orders 
were then given by myself and repeated by Col. Duryea, to charge bayonet ; the 
attempt was made, but the crowd was so close upon the troops that there was 
no room for the troops to charge, and some of the men had their muskets seized 
by the crow T d ; the troops by this time were forced back to the sidewalk; I stated 
to the Sheriff that it was impossible to maintain our position without firing. I 
several times called out to the crowd that they must fall back or we would fire ; 
after this the Sheriff gave the order to fire. Gen. Hall, who was a short distance 
from me, made an exclamation to fire over their heads ; the order to fire was 
repeated by myself and Col. Duryea, and the men fired once over the heads of 
the crowd, against Mrs. Langdon's house. A shout then came from the mob, 
" They have only blank eartridges, give it to them again," and another volley of 
stones came instantly ; the, troops were then ordered to fire again; I think the 
order was given by myself and Gen. Hall ; Gen. Hall said, " fire low ;" then, for 
the first time, the mob began to give way ; the troops then moved forward, crossing 
the street, and chiving the crowd before them until the troops got near the corner 
of Lafayette-place. The mob here rallied at the corner of Lafayette-place, on 
one side, and at the corner of the theatre and the broken ground, on the other 
side, and advanced, throwing volleys of stones ; several of the troops were hurt 
severely, and orders were given for the troops to fire — one half obliquely to the 
right, the other half to the left upon these two bodies of men ; this was done, and 
the crowd fell back into Lafayette-place, and the broken ground behind the 
theatre. There was no firing after tliis ; the mob kept a constant attack upoii 
the troops for some time with stones and brickbat s. The whole number of military 
engaged in the conflict was 210, one-half of the line toward Broadway, and the 
other toward Bowery ; the mob has been variously estimated from ten to twenty 
thousand. Previously to leaving Eighth-st. to go around to the front of the 
theatre with the troops, I sent up the Light Artillery and the portions of the 
Sixth Regiment that was to support it They arrived after the firing had ceased 
One gun was placed toward the Bowery, and the other toward Broadway. The 
Infantry w T ere stationed, and the mob were again told that unless they left, they 
would be fired upon, and the Artillery used, if necessary. The mob dispersed, 
and the firing ceased. Upwards of 50 men of this small detachment of 2 10 men, 



24 

were injured, chiefly before the firing commenced. I do not believe tnat the 
troops could have withdrawn in safety when the order was given to fire, and that 
they could not liave maintained their position without firing. During a period of 
thirty-five years of military service, 1 have never seen a mob so violent as the 
one on that evening. I never before had occasion to give the order to fire. 

TESTIMONY OF STEPHEN W. GAINES. 

Stephens "W. Gaines, sworn, says : — I am a counsellor at law, residing at No. 
180 East Broadway ; on Thursday evening last, I was at the corner of Astor- 
place and Lafayette-place ; I stood upon a pile of boards ; I stood there from 
half-past eight o'clock until after the last discharge of musketry ; from the place 
where I stood, I had a fair view of the Opera House ; when I first got there, 
the space between us and the theatre was filled with people, but not densely 
crowded at that time ; I saw persons throwing stones at the principal entrance, 
and at the windows of the Opera House ; they were nearly in front of the Opera 
House ; sometimes a single stone, and at other times a volley ; about fifty feet 
in front of the house was the principal scene of action ; the street toward the 
Bowery was filled with people; there were no stones tin-own from the quarter 
where I stood, and there were so few actually stoning the house, that it was a 
surprise to those witnessing it why the police did not stop it ; the first I saw of 
the military was the horse, and then followed the infantry ; they came from 
Broadway, passed the Opera House in Astor-place, and took their stand near the 
4th avenue ; I saw no opposition ; in about half an hour I saw the horse troops 
pass up Astor-place, towards Broadway ; I should have left upon the arrival of 
the military,. but so many coming upon the sidewalk, I could not get out; within 
a short time after, the infantry passed up in front of the house ; I saw the fire 
from the discharge of the muskets as it left the barrels, as the lamps were out ; 
some of them were fired perpendicular, some on an inclined plane towards the 
house of Mrs. Langdon, and others horizontally; this was the first discharge ; we 
had no intimation of firing where I stood, until I saw the flash ; several other 
volleys were discharged immediately ; previous to firing the last volley, the 
street was nearly cleared ; most of the people had left the enclosure where I 
was ; there were, perhaps, half a dozen on the sidewalk in front of where I was ; 
I was still standing on the board, when the last discharge took place up Astor- 
place towards the Bowery ; between me and the soldiers the space was clear ; 
there was a small number of persons on the corner opposite Mrs. Langdon's 
house ; they were out of the range of the fire ; tins fire was nearly in the range 
of where 1 was standing ; I stepped back a pace or two, to bring myself out of 
the direct line ; immediately another discharge took place, that being part of 
the previous discharge; upon the discharge, a man fell upon the sidewalk in 
front of us ; there were but a few persons near him at the ume ; after he fell, he 
remained on the ground half a minute, some supposed he was nhawnyifag being 
shot ; on picking him up, a wound was discovered in his back, by the blood 
running ; we took the wounded man down to the drug store corner Fourth and 
Wooster street ; on examining the body, we found a wound in the lower part of 

fail stomach; his name was Henry otten, residing at the corner of Hester and 

Orchard streets ; lie was standing on the sidewalk at the time he was shot, takiug 
no part in the disturbance ; alter leaving him, I learned tluit others had been 
shot ; 1 have been informed that he has since died. 

TESTIMONY OF THOMAS J. BELY1.W 

Thomas J. Bi Lvnr, residing at No. LS8 King street, boatman : — On Thursday 
evening last, 1 was at the disturbance at the Aster place Opera House; 1 stood 
on the corner of Laiayette-place, by Mrs. Langdon's house; when L got there, 
about half-past dx o'clock, I an» I ioi of half-grown boys throwing stones at the 
\ "i Opera House; 1 passed on the opposite corner, and was talking to two 
Philadelphians ; they were saying how trifling this was to some of their riots; 
L stayed there until the hone soldiers came, and then the infantry ; then there 



25 

was a rush with the boys, and we started buck, and then returned again to see 
how the military operated; I was standing on tin- corner of Mrs. Langdbn's 
house when the first firing took place; when the military left, the boys went 
back and commenced throwing stones again; I stood there when the first discharge 

took place ; a man fell ; I laughed, and so did others, as we thought that it. was 
only blank cartridges to scare them; I heard a man say, "mj God, look at this; 

he's shot ;" this was at the first discharge of musketry; \ heard no notice given 
to disperse; they might have done so; alter this I started and ran down to the 
church on the corner of 4th street, and there I stood ; I don't know how long I 
stood there, I was so frightened ; I stood there until I heard another banging of 
muskets, and then I started and ran home as quick as I could ; I should not have 
gone there, if I had known they were going to use lead ; I went to see what 
was going on, like many others; I don't know how long I stood at the church 
before I heard the second firing; I was glad to get there ; I jumped over several 
people in making my way to the church. 

It is to be observed that the above accounts vary according to the 
position of the witnesses. Mr. Stewart confines his attention chiefly 
to the operations of the police ; Gen. Sandford to those of the mili- 
tary ; while others may be supposed to represent the views and 
feelings of the mere spectators. 

On the examination of Mr. Stewart, he was asked, if, in his opinion, 
the riot could have been prevented or suppressed by the action of 
the police, without calling on the military. Though loth to give an 
opinion, which might be construed into a censure of the authorities, 
he stated his belief that the whole affair might have been differently 
managed. 

The scene which followed the firing of the military, beggars all 
description. The wounded, the dying, and the dead, were scattered 
in every direction. There were groans of agony, cries for help, and 
oaths of vengeance. The dead and the wounded were borne to the 
drug stores at the corners of Eighth street and Broadway, and Third 
Avenue, and others in the vicinity, and surgeons were summoned to 
attend them. Some were conveyed by the police to the Fifteenth 
Ward Station House, and a few carried to the City Hospital. Some 
of the dead and wounded were laid out upon the billiard tables of 
Vauxhall Saloon, a large crowd gathered around, and speeches were 
made by excited orators. 

Had none but those actively engaged in the riot been shot by the 
military, these details would have been sufficiently melancholy. But 
even then, we are to consider that the men who composed the mob, 
may have acted, under ordinary circumstances, like honest and 
respectable citizens. A mob is composed of the same men in a state 
of temporary insanity, and they should be treated accordingly. Sober 
and quiet citizens, acting under such a temporary excitement, have 
committed the greatest outrages. They should be restrained, but 
not sacrificed, unless under the most imperative necessity. 

But in this case, very few of the active rioters were injured — the 
greater part of the killed and wounded being either spectators, or 
persons passing by the scene. Thus, Bridget Fagan was walking 
with her husband along; the Bowery, shot through the leo*. and died 
at the Hospitals Mr. Stuart, an old retired merchant, was severely 



26 

wounded in the neck, while standing in the Bowery ; and Mr. Collins 
was shot dead while getting out of a car of the Harlem Rail Road-. 
Wm. C. Russell, a lawyer, had his arm shattered while passing 
around the corner of the Bowery. Mr. Livingston, standing in S*. 
Mark's place, two blocks off, was severely wounded. There were 
many more such cases. 

Of those who were shot down in the immediate vicinity of the 
Opera House, the greater portion were taking no part in the affair. 
Mr. George W. Gedney, a broker in Wall street, who had a wife, to 
whom he had been married but little more than a year, and one child, 
was shot instantly dead, as he was standing inside the railing by the 
Langdon mansion. At the first volley, a ball pierced his brain. His 
wife knew he had gone to see the riot, and she had had a presen- 
timent of some disaster. She sat watching and waiting for her 
husband, for it was the first time he had been out at night, without 
her, since their marriage. She waited until four o'clock in the 
morning in an agony of terror, when, unable to endure the suspense 
any longer, she rushed into the street, went to the house of one of 
her husband's friends, roused him from his slumber, and begged him 
to go and seek for her husband. The man went, and found poor 
Gedney a cold corpse. Mrs. Gedney was sitting at the window 
when he returned, and motioned for him to come to her, but he shook 
his head mournfully, and passed by in silence. She knew that her 
beloved husband was no more. Her neighbor, who had not the 
courage to tell her the awful tidings, sent his wife to comfort her. 
This is but one of many such cases of domestic affliction, produced 
by the events of that night of terror. 



CHAPTER SEVENTH. 

THE DAY AFTER THE RIOT POPULAR EXCITEMENT CORONER'S IN- 
QUEST LIST OF THE KILLED AND WOUNDED. 

The morning of the eleventh of May was one of sad excitement 
in the city of New York. The extent of the calamity, the number 
of the dead and wounded, made a deep and solemn impression. 
Public opinion was \<t\ much divided. The more excitable breathed 
threats of vengeance, and the military were kept under arms during 
that and the succeeding day. A meeting was called in the Park, of 
"Citizens opposed t<< the destruction of Human Life." Several 
thousands assembled, and resolutions were passed, thoroughly con- 
demning the authorities For not exhausting the civil power before 
calling out the military, and characterizing the sacrifice of life as 
" the mosl wanton, unprovoked and murderous outrage ever perpe- 
trated in the civilized world ;*' and calling upon the Grand Jury to 
mdicl the Mayor, Recorder and SiherifF, for ordering the military to 
fire on the i itizens, Exciting and inflammatory speeches were made 



27 

by Edward Strahan, Isaiah Ryndcrs, and Mike Walsh, but the meet- 
ing separated without disturbance. 

That night, all eyes were turned toward the Opera House, for 
though it had been closed by the lessees, and though Mac, ready was 
in Boston, it had been given out that it should be destroyed. The 
most efficient measures had been taken by the authorities, and a 
proclamation issued by the Mayor. Gen. Sandford called out four 
troops of horse artillery, one squadron of cavalry, four regiments of 
infantry, including the fifth brigade, and a detachment of the veteran 
artillery, with a 24 pound howitzer. The artillery was planted so a*s 
to sweep the streets around the building, and the infantry and cavalry 
stationed at a convenient distance. The artillery was furnished with 
grape, and the infantry with ball cartridge. 

At dark, ^n immense crowd filled the streets around the Opera 
House, but the military took possession of the ground, dispersed the 
mob, and barricaded the approach^ to the scene. The mob, most 
violent at first in Broadway, having been driven from that position, 
made an attack upon the troops in the Bowery, and severely injured 
several of the soldiers ; but the police, aided by the military, arrested 
or dispersed the offenders. At about 9 o'clock, the mob erected a 
barricade across 9th street, near the Bowery, to defend themselves 
from the cavalry, but it was stormed by the police. At one time, 
the attack upon the City Guard was so severe, that they were ordered 
to load, and the Recorder proclaimed that another shower of stones 
would bring one of lead in return ; but fortunately the volleys ceased. 
Bonfires were kindled, but these only made the leaders of the riot 
conspicuous, and aided the police to arrest them. About thirty 
arrests were made, the mob driven off in all directions, and at mid- 
night order was restored. Half this efficiency the previous night, 
would have saved all bloodshed. Order was restored, and though it 
was reported that a large number of persons had come from Phila- 
delphia, expressly to take part in a riot, the peace of the city was 
not again disturbed. 

On Saturday morning, the Coroner assembled a jury, who pro- 
ceeded in carriages, to view the bodies of those who were killed. 
After viewing them, and witnessing a surgical examination of each, 
the inquest was continued at the Hall of the Court of Sessions. The 
Mayor, Recorder, Sheriff, Chief of Police, and several military officers 
and citizens were examined. We have given some of the most 
important of the testimony. 

The Jury retired at half-past six o'clock, on Sunday evening, and 
after being out a short time, returned the following verdict : 

"We believe that Geo. A. Curtis, John McDonald, TTios. Aylwood, George Lin* 
coin, Timothy Burns, Henry Otten, George W. Brown, Wni. Butler, George W. 
Taylor, Owen Burns, Thos. Belman, Neil Gray Mellis, Asa F. Collins, Wm. Har- 
raer, Thos. Keirnan, Mathew Cahill, Geo. N. Gedney, came to their deaths by 
gun shot wounds, from balls fired by the Military during the riot before the 
Opera House, on Thursday evening, 10th May inst., by order of the civil author- 
ities of the city of New York ; and that the circumstances existing at the time 
iustified the authorities in giving the order to fire upon the mob. "We further 



28 

Relieve that if a larger number of the Police had been ordered out, the necessity 
of a resort to the use of Military might have been avoided. 

New Yoek, May 14, 1849. JAMES H. PERKINS, Foreman. 

O. H. WILSON, WM. BANTA-, 

LEONARD H. HEGAR, J. C. BALDWLN, 

JAMES CROPSY, LEANDER M. SAMMIS, 

SAMUEL RAYNOR, EDWARD C. ROBINSON, 

JOSEPH B. BREWSTER, WM. S. SMITH, 

GEO. W. DAWSON, THOS. S. MILLER, 
WILLIAM BALLAGH. 

Five other persons, in a few days afterwards, died of their wounds. 
The following is believed to be a complete list of all the killed and 
wounded : 



LIST OF THE KILLED. 

GEORGE A. CURTIS, 
Aged 22 years, born in Chautauque Co., printer ; shot through the lungs. 

JOHN Mc'DONALD, 
Aged fifteen years, born in L-eland, shot through the breast. 

GEORGE LINCOLN, 
Aged 35 years, appeared to be a sailor ; shot in the abdomen. 

THOMAS AYLWOOD, 
Aged 19, bom in Halifax, a clerk ; shot in the thigh : died after amputation of 
the limb. 

TIMOTHY BURNS, 

16 years, a printer ; shot through the right lung. 

HENRY OTTEN, 
22 years ; grocer; shot through the breast. He died in the 15 fh Ward station- 
house, in presence of his aged mother. 

GEORGE W. BROWN, 
From Boston ; clerk ; bull passed through left lung. 

WILLIAM BUTLER, 
24 years ; ship joiner ; shot through the head. 

GEORGE W. TAYLOR, 
21 years; house carpenter ; shot through the head. 

OWEN BURNS, 
24 years - r born in Ireland ; a cartman ; shot through the head. 
THOMAS BELMAN, 

17 years ; born in Ireland ; laborer ; shot through the neck. 

NEIL GRAY MKLLIS, 
27 years ; the musket-ball passed directly through the heart ; left a wife and one 
child. The deceased was a nephew to ex-Alderman Neil Gray of the 10th 
Ward. 

A -A P. COLLINS, 
45 years ; born in this State; business a house agent The deceased received a 
ball in the neck, as he was descending from the railroad car. 
WILLIAM BARMER, 
16 years; a butcher; was brought to the Bellevue Hospital early on Friday 
morning, having received a ball in the abdomen; he lingered until four 
o'clock in the afternoon, "when death relieved his earthly Buffering. He was 
a native of Si Johr/s, Now Brunswick 



THOMAS KEIRNAN, 
21 years ; born in Ireland ; a waiter ; sh<j£ in the right cheek, the ball passing 
into the brain. 

MATHEW CAHILL, 
26 years ; born in Ireland ; laborer ; widower ; shot through the right breast ; 
one cliild. 

TIMOTHY McGUINN, 
19 years; laborer. The deceased was residing with his mother, in the rear of 
No. 107 West Tliirteenth-street, and died soon after being brought home. 
' GEORGE W. GEDNKV, 
34 years ; born in New- York ; a broker ; resided at No. 82 Seventh-street Tlie 
deceased received a musket-ball directly through the brain. 
JOHN DALZELL, 
Was wounded in the hip, and died after amputation of the lup joint. 

ROBERT MACLEURGEON, 
Aged 20, a native of New York, received a wound while passing through Lafay- 
ette Place ; and died at his mother's residence on Monday. 
JOHN McKINSLEY, 
Shot through the lungs, died on Sunday night. 

HENRY BURGUIST, 
Known as " Harry Bluff," lived at 410 Pearl-street. Ball grazed the neck, 
>vent into the right shoulder, coming out behind the right arm. Died of 
ns wounds at the hospital. 

BRIDGET FAGAN, 
Irish ; 30 years old ; shot in the leg, just below the knee. She was two blocks 
off, walking with her husband on their way home, and fell into his arms. 
Died after amputation. 

Thus TWENTY-THREE PERSONS were either killed on the 
spot, or died of their wounds shortly after. 



LIST 0E THE WOUNDED. 

The following list is probably incomplete, as many who were not 
seriously wounded have not been publicly reported : 

Edward McCormtck, 135 First Avenue ; 19 years old ; worked at 200 Mulber- 
ry-street. Shot through the side. 

Conrad Becker, 27 Hudson-street ; worked for Mahoney and Thompson, Up- 
holsterers, Chatham-street. Ball went through the right thigh. 

George N. Kay, 28 years of age ; merchant ; boarded at 107 Chambers-street 
Ball in the right breast, going entirely through. 

Frederick Gillespie, a boy ; shot through the foot. 

A Son of J. Irwin, 243 Tenth-street ; ball through his leg. 

B. M. Seixas, jr., 

Matthew Carhart, residence First Av., corner of Twelfth-st. ; shot through the 
breast and neck. 

Mr. Stewart, of the late firm of Coley, Stewart, and Co., Mobile, retired mer- 
chant ; while standing in the Bowery was 6hot in the neck. 

Mr. Philip Livingston, a young man, who was standing in St. Mark's Place, 
was badly wounded, he shot entering the fore arm, and coming out near the 
thumb. 



30 

Lieut. J. Bnow>- ; son of Prof. Brown ; residence 42 Crosby -street ; was shot as 
he came out of the Amphitheatre door. 

Deacon A. M. Collins ; of the Allen-street Church ; was also shot. 

"William Selleck ; 23 years of age; residence 227 Seventh-street; dangerously 
■svounded by a shot ; a spectator. 

A young Philadelphia ; name not ascertained ; badly shot through the thigh. 

Mr. Braisted ; of the firm of Secor & Co. ; spectator ; shot through the knees. 

\Vm. C. 1!u.-sj:i.l, Esq.; a lawyer of Wall-street; left his residence in Fourth- 
avenue, about half-past 10, and while passing the corner of Lafayette-place, 
had his left arm shattered by a ball. 

Mr. Marshall Lefferts ; of the firm of Messrs. Geo. B. Moorewood <fe Co. 14 
and 16 Beaver-street ; while on duty as an officer, was knocked from his 
horse by a stone, and seriously wounded. 

One of the National Guards had liis jaw-bone broken by a paving-stone. 

Lorexzo D. Snell, of Philadelphia; 49 Bayard-street; was shot through the 
thigh. 

Mrs. Brexxav, house-keeper for Mr. Kernachan, corner of Second-avenue and 
Ninth-street; while passing up the Bowery, on her way home, leaning upon 
the arm of a man. was struck by a ball in her left thigh, which passed tlirough 
the fleshy part of this and the right thigh, without injuring the large vessels 
or the bones. 

STErUEN Kehoe. 

Mr. Vaxderpool ; was wounded with a ball at the corner of the eye. 

A boy, by the name of Stone. 

An instance of heroism is related of one of the wounded, who, 
when the surgeon was about to examine his case, said, " Nevermind 
me now, but look round and see if there is not some one who needs 
you more than I do I" The speech was worthy of Sir Philip Sid- 
ney. The lives of such men ought not to be lightly sacrificed. 

Of the military and police, a large number were wounded, some 
of them severely, by paving stones. Capt. Shumway received a 
flesh wound with a pistol shot. 

The military performed their duty, generally, with commendable 
coolness. Some, it is said, laid down their arms, rather than fire, 
and others fired into the air ; but on the whole, they did quite suffi- 
cient execution, especially on those who were not actively engaged 
in the riot. 



CHAPTER NINTH. 

WHERE LIES THE BLAME ? 

The dead are Bleeping in their quiet graves. Day by day, time 
brings its consolations to the afflicted ; but has society no lesson to 
learn from the horrors of which sre have given ai full a description 
as could be given, by Looking at the mere surface of things? We 
shown ili»' causes which produced this dreadful sacrifice of 
human life — this massacre of innocent and unofiendinar citizens, for 



31 

many of the killed were truly such. Let us endeavor to turn the 
terrible lesson to some useful account. 

Those who were actively engaged in the scenes we have described, 
experience different feelings in regard to it. The mob was made up 
mainly of well-meaning, but ignorant, rash, and misguided men. 
The best feelings of our nature, when they are perverted, may pro- 
duce the worst consequences. In this case, a feeling of patriotism, 
and a sense of justice, were the ruling motives of those who violated 
the laws, broke the peace of the community, defied the constituted 
authorities, and caused the death of twenty- three human beings. 
They acted in all good conscience, but an unenlightened or misguided 
conscience is no security against wrong. Some of the worst deeds 
that were ever committed, were done " in all good conscience." Thus 
Christ was crucified by a Jewish mob, and said, " Father, forgive 
them, they know not what they do." Thus, in all ages, the worst 
acts have been committed from the best of motives. 

The authorities are probably satisfied with having maintained law 
and order, though at a terrible sacrifice, and the press has almost 
unanimously sustained them. But it should be remembered that 
almost all men are liable to temporary excitements. Mobs are affected 
with a kind of insanity. The madness of a crowd seems to be infec- 
tious. These rioters may, in their calm moments, be good and quiet 
citizens. We have seen some of the most sober and moral commu- 
nities excited into a fury of passion. At any rate, they are brethren, 
and should be dealt with in love and kindness. 

But law and order must be maintained ; very true — it must be 
done at all hazards, but it should be done prudently, and with the 
least possible sacrifice. Humanity has its claims as w r ell as law ; and 
it may not be necessary to the maintenance of public order, that 
ignorant and misguided men, laboring under a temporary madness 
should be shot down like dogs, if they can be controlled by means 
more gentle. t 

The military acted naturally, under the circumstances. They 
were placed in an ugly position by the authorities, suffered severely 
for it, and obeyed their orders. No doubt, they regretted the fatal 
necessity. Some idea of the probable feelings of those who fired 
the fatal volleys, may be judged of from the fact that a brother of 
Mr. Gedney, who w r as shot dead at the first fire, was a member of 
one of the companies that fired the volleys. All men are brethren — 
hut here w T as brother against brother, in a sense that the most unfeel- 
ing can appreciate. 

A distinguished clergyman of this city, preaching on the subject 
of the riot, says of Macready and his right to act — " Though he had 
been the meanest of his kind, he should have been protected here to 
the conclusion of his announced engagement, if an army of ten thou- 
sand men had been required to wait upon his movements, and a ship 
of war chartered to convey him to his native land. We have done 
something to vindicate order and law, and we ought to have done 
more." 



32 

A zeal for the rights of Mr. Macready and his friends, and for the 
cause of law and order is commendable — but it must not be forgot- 
ten that other rights must have been violated, or this riot could 
never have taken place. Those ignorant men had a right to educa- 
tion, and to such conditions of cultivation, as would have made them 
intelligent men and good citizens. They would never have raised 
their hands against society, had society done its duty to them. Be- 
fore they committed this wrong, they had been most deeply wronged 
themselves ; and it would be better to provide ten thousand school- 
masters to instruct people, than ten thousand soldiers to prevent the 
result of their ignorance. 

Men can be zealous and indignant about the rigts of play actors, 
or their patrons — and we have no disposition to deny their rights, 
or to interfere with the lawful exercise of them — but they forget in 
how many ways the rights of our brethren are violated, and not a 
word is said in their behalf. Give every man the natural and social 
rights that belong to him and we should have few crimes and out- 
rages to complain of, and law and order could be maintained with- 
out standing armies or ships of war. 

When we go deep into the investigation of social wron^a, we shall 
find that society brings upon itself the very evils it attempts to sub- 
due. Society, by an unjust distribution of the avails of industry, en- 
ables a few men to become rich, and consigns a great mass to hope- 
less poverty, with all its deprivations and degradations. This pover- 
ty produces ignorance, the sense of injustice, grovelling tastes, and 
a loss of all high ambition. The only wonder is that under such cir- 
cumstances of wrong and outrage, men are so forbearing, 30 honest, 
and so orderly. The only wonder is that more crimes are not com- 
mitted against both property and life. Thousands of poor people 
know that they are robbed and plundered every day of their lives — 
they feel bitterly the hardships and injustice of their lot ; but how 
calmly do they wait God's justice to set them right! How few of 
them comparatively attempt to right their own wrongs, and to sieze 
upon a portion of what society withholds from them ! 

This terrible tragedy is a lesson to us all. None can escape its 
warning. We are all responsible, all guilty ; for we make a part of 
a society that has permitted thousands of its members to grow up 
in poverty and ignorance, and exposed to the temptations of vice and 
crime. This mob is but a symptom of our social condition, and it 
points out a disease to which we should lose no time in applying a 
proper remedy. 



THE END.