VVitches 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.

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 con∣uicted, and exe∣cuted.

PLinie writes of some kinde of Serpentes that dare not approach the wild Ashtree, nay the sight of it is so ter∣rible 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 An∣gels) be more prouident of our proper good then Serpents are, who to auoid the persecution of their minde, will endure the affliction of their bo∣die, and to shunne the verie shadow of the Ash∣tree, will thrust themselues into torment of fire: So should men, who séeing sinne like a wild Ash∣trée grow in the world, and that to lurke vnder the shadow thereof is a whippe to their consci∣ence, 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 vnpre∣pared 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 Sut∣ton, who being a widow, and of declining yeares, had her daughter called Mary Sutton, (as it was thought by the neighbours thereabouts) resi∣dent 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 schol∣ler 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 towns∣men (being held but poore) for her better reliefe chosen to be the Hogheard, or Hog-kéeper. In which seruice she cōtinued long, not without com∣mendations for her dutifull care had therein. And though many cattell oftentimes miscarried, and were taken with staggerings, frensies, and o∣ther diseases to their confusions, and impoueri∣shing of the owners, yet she not till of late su∣spected to be a cause thereof, though since it hath euidently béene proued against her.

Continuing thus almost for the space of twen∣tie, 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 cal∣led

Master Enger dwelling at Milton Milles, and this mother Sutton, On whom she had vowed to take a strange and actuall reuenge for the discon∣tent 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 a∣mazement 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 ea∣ting 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 re∣liefes to the necessitie of man, were thus per∣plexed, 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 fore∣warned 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 veno∣mous 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 ma∣sters 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 Mar∣ket. 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 af∣ter 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 hor∣ses they ranne as if they would haue swelted themselues, and the fellowes after them breath∣lesse, 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 no∣thing, though they saw the Sow following and grazing, as they did before.

Being come to Bedford, and hauing vnloa∣den the Cart, and made sale of the Corne, the one sell to driuing the Teame home againe, lea∣uing 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 an∣cient seruant tooke his horse with purpose to o∣uertake 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 be¦fore, 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 ser∣uants 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 a∣foresaid, who made slight of it to them whatsoe∣uer he conceiued of it himselfe: and saying he sup∣posed they were drunke, they departed.

The same old seruant of Master Engers with∣in few daies after going to plough, fell into talke of Mother Sutton, and of Mary Sutton her daugh∣ter, 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 dis∣coursing 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 alto∣gether 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 amaze∣ment, 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 a∣waked 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 ex∣tasies were nothing lessened, but continued a long time in as grieuous perplexitie as at first▪ yet though they suspected much, they had no cer∣taine proofe or knowledge of the cause: Their meanes were therefore the shorter to cure the ef∣fect. But as a thiefe, when hee entereth into a house to robbe, first putteth out the lights, accor∣ding 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 to∣ward, and vertuous, and make the night the in∣strument to contriue their wicked purposes. For these Witches hauing so long, and couertly con∣tinued to doe much mischiefe by their practises, were so hardened in their lewde and vile procee∣ding, that the custome of their sinne had quite ta∣ken 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 formi∣dine, exoptatur cum dulcedine, excipitur cum deuo∣tione. Death is looked for without feare, desired with delight, and accepted with deuotion. As the actes and enterprises of these wicked per∣sons are darke and diuellish: so in the perseue∣rance

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 in∣creased. 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 Di∣uell striues to enlarge his Kingdome, and vpon the necke of one wickednesse to heape another: So that Periculum probat transeuntium raritas, pe∣r••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 par∣ticular 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 fal∣ling. 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 li∣bertie to giue repulse to her assault, and deni∣all to her filthie and detested motion: and to vp∣braide her of her abhominable life and behaui∣our, hauing before had three bastards and ne∣uer married. She vpon this (séeing her suite cold, and that Gods power was more predo∣minant 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 hap∣pened.

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 redres∣sed,

yet was he distrustfull of the truth, and ra∣ther 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 hus∣wifery 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 obstina∣cie 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 be∣ganne 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 aduan∣tage, 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 wic∣ked 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 opportu∣nitie passe to bée reuenged. As soone therefore as she had dispatcht at the Mill, she hasted home∣wards, and could not be quiet till she had grum∣bled to her daughter what had happened, and

how the childe had serued her; Then confer∣ring how Master Enger had vsed Mary Sutton the daughter, and how hir little sonne had vsed the Mother, they both resolued, and vowed re∣uenge. This conference and consultation of vil∣lanie 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 ha∣uing 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 perfor∣ming, 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 di∣stresse that his seruant had endured (which was more) as that the hopefull daies of his young

sonne were so vntimely cut off: (which tou∣ched his heart most of all.) Yet did his discre∣tion 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 vnreuen∣ged.

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 so∣iourned with him all night. Hee perceiuing Ma∣ster Enger to be full of griefe, was desirous to know the cause thereof, and hee was as vnwil∣ling by the discourse of his misfortunes to re∣newe his many sorrowes, till at last his friends vrgent importunacie perswaded him not to passe it ouer with silence. Vpon Master Engers re∣lation 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 wa∣ter, yet least they should not bee Witches, and that their liues might not be in danger of drow∣ning,

let there be a roape tyed about their mid∣dles, 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 extraor∣dinarie 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 En∣ger 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 de∣siring 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 ad∣uised 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 wa∣ter 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 direc∣tion, and then she sunke not at all, but sitting v∣pon 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 lan∣guish 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 con∣stantly denied, and stood at defiance with him till being carried towards a Iustice, Master Enger told her it was bootlesse to stand so obstinately v∣pon 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.