Witches Apprehended, Examined and Executed

Witches Apprehended, Examined and Executed, for notable villanies by them committed both by Land and Water.

With a ſtrange and moſt true triall how to know whether a woman be a Witch or not.

Printed at London or Edward Marchant, and are to be ſold at his ſhop ouer againſt the Croſſe in Pauls Church-yard. 1613.

The ſeuerall and damnable practiſes of Mother Sutton, and Mary Sutton her daughter of Milton Milles, in the Countie of Bedford: who were lately arraigned conuicted, and executed.

PLinie writes of ſome kinde of Serpentes that dare not approach the wild Aſhtree, nay the ſight of it is ſo terrible to them, they flie from it, and will not draw néer the ſhadowe thereof, but if they be walled round with fire, they will rather runne through to the confuſion of themſelues then endure it. If it were ſo with vs which profeſſe our ſelues Chriſtians, & ſhould be Chriſtes ſonnes to imitate our Father, and Sauiour in his life, which hee left as a leſſon to mankinde his children to learne, we ſhould then hauing reaſon, (part of the inheritance of Angels) be more prouident of our proper good then Serpents are, who to auoid the perſecution of their minde, will endure the affliction of their bodie, and to ſhunne the verie ſhadow of the Aſhtree, will thruſt themſelues into torment of fire: So ſhould men, who ſéeing ſinne like a wild Aſhtrée grow in the world, and that to lurke vnder the ſhadow thereof is a whippe to their conſcience, when to féed on the ſappe is damnation to their ſoules, in this onely like Serpents auoid it for the reliefe of their mindrs, though with the painefull diſſolution of their bodies: but ſuch is the deafneſſe of our eares, that though heauen it ſelfe ſpeak in thunder to remember vs a day ſhall come when we muſt giue account for our wilfull tranſgreſſions, wee not regard it, and ſuch the hardneſſe of our hearts, that neither treaſons, murthers, witchcrafts, fires, flouds, of all which the impetuous courſe hath béene ſuch in this age, that we haue cauſe to looke our day of ſummons is to morrow, if not this houre, yet we are vnprepared of our account, and as if it were lawfull that euils ſhould grow, many from one, and one from another, are as corne is fruitfull from one ſéede to ſeuerall eares. So from one ſinne we multiply to diuers, not dreading vengeance till our iniquities be numberleſſe. As ſhall appeare by this following diſcourſe.

At a place called Milton ſome thrée miles from Bedford, was lately dwelling one Mother Sutton, who being a widow, and of declining yeares, had her daughter called Mary Sutton, (as it was thought by the neighbours thereabouts) reſident with her as a ſtay and comfort to her age, when ſhe kept her, but as a furtherer to her diuelliſh practiſes, nay indéed to make her a ſcholler to the Diuell himſelfe.

This widow Sutton hauing béene dwelling a long time in the foreſaid, towne of Milton, and not ſuſpected as then to haue béene a practiſer in this diuelliſh exerciſe of witchcraft, was by the townſmen (being held but poore) for her better reliefe choſen to be the Hogheard, or Hog-kéeper. In which ſeruice ſhe cōtinued long, not without commendations for her dutifull care had therein. And though many cattell oftentimes miſcarried, and were taken with ſtaggerings, frenſies, and other diſeaſes to their confuſions, and impoueriſhing of the owners, yet ſhe not till of late ſuſpected to be a cauſe thereof, though ſince it hath euidently béene proued againſt her.

Continuing thus almoſt for the ſpace of twentie, or one and twentie yeares, and in that time had brought her daughter to be as perfect in her diuelliſh charmes as her ſelfe, there grew ſome difference betwéene a Gentleman of worſhip called Maſter Enger dwelling at Milton Milles, and this mother Sutton, On whom ſhe had vowed to take a ſtrange and actuall reuenge for the diſcontent ſhe had conceiued againſt him, which rancour of hers ſhe thus proſecuted: His horſes that were left well in his ſtable ouer night, ſhe cauſed them to be found dead in the morning, ſome ſtrangled, ſome hauing beaten out their braines, others dead, and no cauſe perceiued how. Beſides this loſſe, which for the ſtrangeneſſe bred ſome amazement in him, for that it happened not once, but often, this alſo did ſecond it: when his Swine were in the fields at their troughes eating their meat, ſome of them would ſodainly fall madde, and violently fall to tearing out the guts, and bowels of their fellowes: others by ten and twentie in a company, as if they had béen carried with one deſire, would leaue their féeding, and run headlong into the Mill dammes, and drowne themſelues. So that not by accidentall meanes, but the helliſh and moſt damnable witchcrafts of this Mother Sutton, and her daughter, many theſe harmeleſſe cattell and Oxen, made as néedfull reliefes to the neceſſitie of man, were thus perplexed, and an honeſt and worſhipful Gentleman Maſter Enger, from whom ſhe had oftentimes both foode and cloathing, damnified by her meanes to the value of two hundreth pounds in leſſe then two yeares.

In the time of theſe aforeſaid loſſes happened to Maſter Enger, one Henry Sutton, the baſtard ſon ſonne of Mary Sutton (for it is to bee noted, that although ſhe was neuer married, yet ſhe had thrée baſtards) comming to play himſelfe about the Mill damme, fell to throwing in of ſtones, dirt, and filth, with other ſuch vnhappineſſe incident to children: Of which hauing beene often forewarned by an ancient ſeruant of Maſter Engers, who was then about the Milles, and finding the boy notwithſtanding his admoniſhment rather to perſeuer then to deſiſt from his knauerie, he came to him, and giuing him a little blow or two on the eare, the boy went home crying, and the ancient fellow went backe to his labour.

This Henry Sutton comming home beganne to tell his mother how a man of Maſter Engers (naming him) had beaten him. Whoſe venomous nature being ſoone enkindled, though hee had receiued no hurt, ſhe vowed to take reuenge, and thus it followed.

This ancient ſeruant with another of his maſters men were on the morrow being Market day at Bedford, appointed by their maſter to carry a Cart load of corne for the furniſhing of the Market. Being on their way at Milton Townes end they eſpied a goodly faire blacke Sow grazing, who as they draue their Teame ſtill kept pace with thē till they came within a mile of Bedford. Where on a ſodaine they perceiued her to turne twice or thrice about as readily as a Windmill ſayle at worke: And as ſodainly their horſes fell to ſtarting and drawing ſome one way, ſome another: At laſt the ſtrongeſt preuailing, they drewe away the Cart, and corne, and left the Wheeles, and Axeltree behinde them. The horſes they ranne away with their loade, as if they had beene madde, and the two fellowes after the horſes, the horſes being affrighted halfe out of their ſtrength, and the fellowes as much madde to ſee them, downe went one ſacke on this ſide the Cart, and another on that: The horſes they ranne as if they would haue ſwelted themſelues, and the fellowes after them breathleſſe, and ſweating to make the wilde Iades ſtay. All which till the Diuell and the Witch had plaide their partes would not ſerue turne.

At laſt this Tragicke-Comedie drawing to an end, they made a ſtand, when the ſeruants bringing them backe, and finding their Axeltrée, pinnes, and all things vnbroken, tooke vp their Corne, made fit their Cart againe, & the horſes drewe as formally as could be: And they went forthwards towards Bedford, miſtruſting nothing, though they ſaw the Sow following and grazing, as they did before.

Being come to Bedford, and hauing vnloaden the Cart, and made ſale of the Corne, the one ſell to driuing the Teame home againe, leauing his ancienter fellow behind him at Bedford who happening into company, fell a carowſing with boone companions like himſelfe, and in the height of their cuppes, they as deſirous to heare, as he to tell, he related vnto them the manner and forme how his Cart and Whéels were diuoret' as hee was comming to Towne: ſome wondered, all laughed: the company brake vp, and this ancient ſeruant tooke his horſe with purpoſe to ouertake his fellow, who was gone before with the Cart: Who no ſooner was out of Bedford Townes end, but he might behold the ſame Sow (as néere as he could iudge,) grazing againe, as if the Diuell and the Witch had made her his footman to waite vpon him. But the fellow not miſtruſting any thing, made his Nagge take a ſpéedie amble, and ſo to ouertake the Cart, while the Sow ſide by ſide ranne along by him. When he ouertaking his fellow, and had ſcarce ſpoken to him, but the horſes (as before) fell to their old contention running one from another, onely the horſes were better furniſhed then before, for where at firſt they left both Whéeles and Axeltree behinde them, they now had the Axeltree to take their part, leauing the Whéeles in the high way for the ſeruants to bring after. The horſe in this manner comming home, draue all the beholders into amazement, and the ſeruants beginning to haue miſtruſt of the blacke Sow, they watcht whither ſhe went, whom they found to goe into Mother Suttons houſe, of which they told their maſter, and of all the accidents aforeſaid, who made ſlight of it to them whatſoeuer he conceiued of it himſelfe: and ſaying he ſuppoſed they were drunke, they departed.

The ſame old ſeruant of Maſter Engers within few daies after going to plough, fell into talke of Mother Sutton, and of Mary Sutton her daughter, of what pranckes hee had heard they had plaide thereabouts in the Countrey, as alſo what accidents had befallen him and his fellow, as they had paſſed to and from Bedford. In diſcourſing of which a Béetle came, and ſtroke the ſame fellow on the breaſt: and hee preſently fell into a trance as he was guiding the Plough, the extremitie whereof was ſuch, as his ſenſes altogether diſtract, and his bodie and minde vtterly diſtempered, the beholders déemed him cleane hopeleſſe of recouerie, yea his other fellow vpon this ſodaine ſight was ſtricken into ſuch amazement, as he ſtood like a liueleſſe trunke deuided from his vitall ſpirits, as farre vnable to helpe him, as the other was néedfull to be helpt by him. Till at length being ſomewhat recouered, and awaked from that aſtoniſhment, hee made haſt homeward, and carried his maſter word of what had happened.

Vpon deliuerie of this newes (for hee was a man highly eſteemed by him for his honeſt and long ſeruice) there was much moane made for him in the houſe, and Maſter Enger himſelfe had not the leaſt part of griefe for his extremitie, but with all poſſible ſpeed haſted into the field, and vſed helpe to haue him brought home. After which he neglected no meanes, nor ſpared any coſt that might eaſe his ſeruant, or redéeme him from the miſery he was in, but all was in vaine: for hrs extaſies were nothing leſſened, but continued a long time in as grieuous perplexitie as at firſt▪ yet though they ſuſpected much, they had no certaine proofe or knowledge of the cauſe: Their meanes were therefore the ſhorter to cure the effect. But as a thiefe, when hee entereth into a houſe to robbe, firſt putteth out the lights, according to that, Qui male agit, odit lucem, He that doth euill, hateth light, ſo theſe Impes that liue in the gunſhot of diuelliſh aſſaults, goe about to darken and diſgrace the light of ſuch as are toward, and vertuous, and make the night the inſtrument to contriue their wicked purpoſes. For theſe Witches hauing ſo long, and couertly continued to doe much miſchiefe by their practiſes, were ſo hardened in their lewde and vile proceeding, that the cuſtome of their ſinne had quite taken away the ſenſe and féeling thereof, and they ſpared not to continue the perplexitie of this old ſeruant both in bodie and minde, in ſuch ſort that his friends were as deſirous to ſee death ridde him from his extremitie, as a woman great with childe is euer muſing vpon the time of her deliuerie: For where diſtreſſe is déepe, and the conſcience cleare, Mors expectatur abſque formidine, exoptatur cum dulcedine, excipitur cum deuotione. Death is looked for without feare, deſired with delight, and accepted with deuotion. As the actes and enterpriſes of theſe wicked perſons are darke and diuelliſh: ſo in the perſeuerance of this fellowes perplexitie, hee being in his diſtraction both of bodie and minde, yet in bed and awake, eſpied Mary Sutton, (the daughter) in a Mooneſhine night come in at a window in her accuſtomed and perſonall habite, and ſhape, with her knitting worke in her hands, and ſitting downe at his beds féete, ſometimes working, and knitting with her néedles, and ſometimes gazing and ſtaring him in the face, as his griefe was thereby redoubled and increaſed. Not long after ſhe drewe néerer vnto him, and ſate by his bedde ſide (yet all this while he had neyther power to ſtirre or ſpeake) and told him if hee would conſent ſhe ſhould come to bedde to him, hee ſhould be reſtored to his former health and proſperitie. Thus the Diuell ſtriues to enlarge his Kingdome, and vpon the necke of one wickedneſſe to heape another: So that Periculum probat tranſeuntium raritas, per[•]untium multitudo: In the dangerous Sea of this world, the rareneſſe of thoſe that paſſe the ſame ouer ſafe, and the multitude of others that periſh in their paſſage, ſufficiently proue the perill wee liue in: In the Ocean Sea, of foure ſhippes not one miſcaries. In the Sea of this world, of many ſowers, not one eſcapes his particular croſſe and calamitie: yet in our greateſt weakneſſe and debilitie, when the Diuell is moſt buſie to tempt vs, and ſeduce vs from God, then is God ſtrongeſt in the hearts of his children, and moſt readie to bee auxiliant, and helping to ſaue and vphold them from declining, and falling. Gods liberalitie appeares more, then his rigour, for whom hee drawes out the Diuels throat by faith, hee would haue to trample him downe by vertue▪ leaſt he ſhould onely haue fled, not foyled his enemie.

This is made ſhowne in his miraculous working with this fellow: for hee that before had neither power to moue, or ſpeake, had then preſently by diuine aſſiſtance frée power and libertie to giue repulſe to her aſſault, and deniall to her filthie and deteſted motion: and to vpbraide her of her abhominable life and behauiour, hauing before had three baſtards and neuer married. She vpon this (ſéeing her ſuite cold, and that Gods power was more predominant with him then her diuelliſh practiſe, vaniſhed, and departed the ſame way ſhee came.

She was no ſooner gone, but as well as hee could, hee called for his maſter, told him that now hee could tell him the cauſe of this vexation: That Mother Suttons daughter came in at the window, ſate knitting and working by him, and that if hee would haue conſented to her filthineſſe, hee ſhould haue beene freede from his miſerie, and related all that had happened.

His maſter was glad of this newes, for that the meanes found out, the matter and manner of his griefe might bee the eaſier helped, and redreſſed, yet was he diſtruſtfull of the truth, and rather eſtéemed it an idleneſſe of his braine, then an accident of veritie: Neuertheleſſe he reſolued to make proofe thereof.

The next morrow hee tooke company along with him, and went into the fields, where hee found her working, and tending her hogges. There Maſter Enger ſpeaking to her, ſhe was a verie good huſwife, and that ſhee followed her worke night and day: No ſir, ſaid ſhe, My huſwifery is very ſlender, neyther am I ſo good a follower of my worke as you perſwade mee: with that, he told her that ſhe was, and that ſhe had béene working at his houſe the night before. She would confeſſe nothing, but ſtood in ſtiffe deniall vpon her purgation: Inſomuch as the Gentleman by fayre entreaties perſwaded her to goe home with him, to ſatiſfie his man, and to reſolue ſome doubts that were had of her. She vtterly refuſed, and made anſwere ſhe would not ſtirre a foote, neyther had they authoritie to compell her to goe without a Conſtable: Which Maſter Enger perceiuing, and ſeeing her obſtinacie to be ſo great, fell into a greater diſlike, and diſtruſt of her then he did before, and made no more a doe, but cauſed her to bee ſet vpon an horſe-backe to be brought to his houſe. All the company could hardly bring her away, but as faſt as they ſet her vp, in deſpight of them ſhee would ſwarue downe, firſt on the one ſide, then the other, till at laſt they were faine by maine force to ioyne together, and hold her violently downe to the horſebacke, and ſo bring her to the place where this perplexed perſon lay in his bed. Where being come, and brought by force to his bed-ſide, he (as directions had beene giuen vnto him) drew blood of her, and preſently beganne to amend, and bee well againe. But her aſſiduitie and continuall exerciſe in doing miſchiefe, did ſo preuaile with her to doe this fellow further hurt, that watching but aduantage, and opportunitie to touch his necke againe with her finger: It was no ſooner done, and ſhe departed, but he fell into as great or farre worſe vexation then he had before.

The report of this was carried vp and downe all Bedford-ſhire, and this Marie Suttons wicked and lewde courſes being rumored as well abroad, as in Maſter Engers houſe, at laſt it came into the mouth of Maſter Engers ſonne, (being a little boy of ſeuen yeares old) who not long after eſpying old Mother Sutton going to the Mill to grinde corne, and remembring what ſpéeches he had heard paſt of her and her daughter followed the old woman, flinging ſtones at her, and calling her Witch, which thee obſeruing conceited a rancour, and deadly hatred to this young childe, and purpoſed not to ſuffer opportunitie paſſe to bée reuenged. As ſoone therefore as ſhe had diſpatcht at the Mill, ſhe haſted homewards, and could not be quiet till ſhe had grumbled to her daughter what had happened, and how the childe had ſerued her; Then conferring how Maſter Enger had vſed Mary Sutton the daughter, and how hir little ſonne had vſed the Mother, they both reſolued, and vowed reuenge. This conference and conſultation of villanie was had, and concluded in the preſence, and hearing of Henry Sutton, (the Baſtard of Mary Sutton) little thinking that his fortune ſhould be to giue in euidene to breake the necke of his owne Mother and Grandmother.

To effect their diuelliſh purpoſe to the young childe of Maſter Enger, they called vp their two Spirits, whom ſhe called Dicke and Iude: and hauing giuen them ſucke at their two Teats which they had on their thighes (found out afterwards by enquirie, and ſearch of women) they gaue them charge to ſtrike the little boy, and to turne him to torment. Which was not long in performing, but the childe being diſtract, was put to ſuch bitter and inſupportable miſery, as by his life his torments were augmented, and by his death they were abridged. For his tender and vnripe age was ſo infeebled and made weake by that diuelliſh infliction of extremitie, as in fiue daies, not able longer to endure them, death gaue end to his perplexities.

The Gentleman did not ſo much grieue for the loſſe and hinderance hee had in his cattell, (which was much) nor for the miſerable diſtreſſe that his ſeruant had endured (which was more) as that the hopefull daies of his young ſonne were ſo vntimely cut off: (which touched his heart moſt of all.) Yet did his diſcretion temper his paſſions with ſuch patience, that he referred the remembrance of his wrongs to that heauenly power, that permits not ſuch iniquitie to paſſe vnreuealed, or vnreuenged.

As hee was thus wrapt in a Sea of woes, there came a Gentleman a friend of his forth of the North, that trauelling towards London ſoiourned with him all night. Hee perceiuing Maſter Enger to be full of griefe, was deſirous to know the cauſe thereof, and hee was as vnwilling by the diſcourſe of his miſfortunes to renewe his many ſorrowes, till at laſt his friends vrgent importunacie perſwaded him not to paſſe it ouer with ſilence. Vpon Maſter Engers relation of what had happened: the Gentleman demaunded if hee had none in ſuſpition that ſhould doe theſe wronges vnto him: Yes, (quoth Maſter Enger) and therewithall hee mamed this Mary Sutton and her mother, and told him the particulars of his loſſes and miſeries. His friend vnderſtanding this, aduiſed him to take them, or any one of them to his Mill damme, hauing firſt ſhut vp the Mill gates that the water might be at higheſt, and then binding their armes croſſe, ſtripping them into their Smocks, and leauing their legges at libertie, throw them into the water, yet leaſt they ſhould not bee Witches, and that their liues might not be in danger of drowning, let there be a roape tyed about their middles, ſo long that it may reach from one ſide of your damme to the other, where on each ſide let one of your men ſtand, that if ſhe chance to ſinke they may draw her vp and preſerue her. Then if ſhe ſwimme, take her vp, & cauſe ſome women to ſearch her, vpon which, if they finde any extraordinarie markes about her, let her the ſecond time be bound, and haue her right thumbe bound to her left toe, and her left thumbe to her right toe, and your men with the ſame rope (if néed be) to preſerue her, and bee throwne into the water, when if ſhe ſwimme, you may build vpon it, that ſhe is a Witch, I haue ſéene it often tried in the North countrey,

The morrow after Maſter Enger road into the fields where Mary Sutton (the daughter) was, hauing ſome of his men to accompany him, where after ſome queſtions made vnto her, they aſſayed to binde her on horſe-backe, when all his men being preſently ſtricken lame, Maſter Enger himſelfe began to remember, that once rating her about his man, he was on the ſodaine in the like perplexitie, and then taking courage, and deſiring God to bee his aſſiſtance, with a cudgell which he had in his hand, he beate her till ſhe was ſcarce able to ſtirre. At which his men preſently recouered, bound her to their Maſters horſe, and brought her home to his houſe, & ſhutting vp his Mill gates did as before the Gentleman had aduiſed him: when being throwne in the firſt time ſhee ſunke ſome two foote into the water with a fall, but roſe againe, and floated vpon the water like a planke. Then he commanded her to be taken out, and had women readie that ſe[•••••]d her and found vnder her left thigh a kind of [••]at, which after the Baſtard ſonne confeſt her Spirits in ſeuerall ſhapes as Cats, Moales, &c. vſed to ſucke her.

Then was ſhe the ſecond time bound croſſe her thumbes and toes, according to the former direction, and then ſhe ſunke not at all, but ſitting vpon the water, turned round about like a wheele, or as that which commonly we call a whirle poole. Notwithſtanding Maſter Engers men ſtanding on each ſide of the damme with a roape toſſing her vp and downe to make her ſinke, but could not.

And then being taken vp, ſhe as boldly as if ſhe had béene innocent aſked them if they could doe any more to her: When Maſter Enger began to accuſe her with the death of his cattell, the languiſh of his man, who continued in ſorrow both of bodie and mind from Chriſtmaſſe to Shronetide, as alſo the death of his ſonne: All which ſhe conſtantly denied, and ſtood at defiance with him till being carried towards a Iuſtice, Maſter Enger told her it was bootleſſe to ſtand ſo obſtinately vpon deniall of thoſe matters, for her owne ſonne Henry had reuealed all, both as touching her s;elfe and her mother, and of the time and manner of their plotting to torment his little boy: when ſhe heard that, her heart miſgaue her, ſhe confeſſed all, and acknowledged the Diuell had now left her to that ſhame that is reward to ſuch as follow him. Vpon which confeſſion, the mother alſo was apprehended, and both being committed to Bedford Gaole, many other matters were there produced againſt them, of long continuance (for they had remained as before, about twentie yeares) in the proſecute of theſe lewd and wicked practiſes. But for this matter of Maſter Enger at the laſt Aſſiſes, the euidence of the Baſtard ſon, and the confeſſions ſeuerally taken both of old Mother Sutton & her daughter Mary, found them guiltie in al former obiections. So that arraigned at Bedford on Munday the thirtieth of March laſt paſt, they had a iuſt conuiction, and on Tueſday the next day after they were executed.

FINIS.