Accused

British Witches throughout History

Willow Winsham

• Publisher: Pen & Sword History
• Year: 2016
• ISBN:
  9781473850040
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Social Science Biographies
• Index: Social Sciences

The true stories of eleven notorious women, across five centuries, who were feared, victimized, and condemned for witchcraft in the British Isles. Beginning with the late Middle Ages—from Ireland to Hampshire—hundreds of women were accused of spellcasting, wicked seduction, murder, and consorting with the devil. Most were fated for the gallows or the stake. What did it mean for these prisoners to stand accused? What were they really guilty of? And by whom were they persecuted? Drawing on a wealth of primary sources including trial documents, church and census records, and the original sensationalist pamphlets describing the crimes, historian Willow Winsham finds the startling answers to these questions. In the process, she resurrects the lives, deaths, and mysteries of eleven women subjected to history's most notable witch trials. From Irish "sorceress" Alice Kyteler who, in 1324 was the first accused witch on record, to Scottish psychic Helen Duncan who, in 1944, was the last woman imprisoned under Britain's Witchcraft Act of 1735. Dames, servant girls, aggrieved neighbors, suspect widows, cat ladies, prostitutes, mothers, wives, daughters, and sisters. Accused brings all these victims, and the eras in which they lived and died, back to life in "an incredibly well researched... stunning and admirable piece of work, highly recommended" (Terry Tyler, author of the Project Renova series).

Chapter One

The Irish Sorceress: Alice Kyteler (1324)

‘And although in their unholy art she was mistress of the ritual she was nothing, she said, in comparison with her mistress, from whom she had learnt all those things and many others. In fact there was no-one in the kingdom of England more skilled … nor did she think there was anyone in the world her equal in the art of witchcraft.’

Confession of Petronilla de Meath, 1324

Ruled by the English, invaded by the Scots, and struck by the famine that affected the whole of Europe, Ireland during the early fourteenth century had seen much turmoil and unrest. By the time the first quarter of the century was coming to a close however, things were looking up, and more peaceful times were hoped for by all.¹

The prosperous Southern-Irish town of Kilkenny was no exception to this turbulent existence; granted a charter by William Marshall in 1207, the town marked the seat of the Bishops of Ossory and, like the rest of Ireland, looked forward to the end of years of upheaval. Kilkenny would have to wait a little longer for peace however, as in 1324 events were to unfold that would shake the town, and the very diocese, to the core.

From a prosperous Flemish merchant family, and with four husbands to her name, Alice Kyteler was a woman of wealth and connections. She and her money-lending son, William Outlawe, were much admired and envied throughout Kilkenny, so it is not surprising that, sooner or later, scandal would attach itself to her name – with devastating consequences.

Alice, it was said, was a witch. Guilty of bewitching four men into loving and marrying her she had then hastened them to their untimely ends. Not only that, but she had used her sorcery to persuade each man to leave the majority of their wealth to her, depriving her reluctant step-children of what, they felt, was duly theirs.² Utterly convinced of this, at some point prior to 1324, the children of Alice’s second and third husbands had initiated proceedings against their step-mother. It was not an uncommon tale of familial jealousies, but one that would take on a whole new significance in the presence of Richard Ledrede, Bishop of Ossory, to whom they made their complaint.

Since his arrival in Ireland in 1317, Ledrede had been a man on a mission.³ Intent on tackling the ever present threat of heresy and determined that the towns under his protection would be free from the vices that plagued the rest of the country, it was with great consternation that he learnt a group of heretics had been practising with impunity in Kilkenny. At the head of this group was alleged to be none other than Dame Alice Kyteler.

There were seven charges made against Alice and her accomplices, encompassing heresy, sorcery and poisoning. Damning indeed, but when the bishop wrote to Roger Outlawe, the Lord Chancellor of Ireland, with the purpose of arresting Alice and her associates, he found his way blocked by the efforts of Alice and her influential contacts.⁴ Unimpressed by Ledrede’s petition, the chancellor and the seneschal of Kilkenny, Lord Arnold le Poer, contacted the bishop to express their displeasure, insisting that he desist immediately from his endeavours to prosecute Alice.⁵ Not one for half measures where matters of the faith were concerned, Ledrede reported that he would do no such thing and thus began a feud that was to go back and forth for months.

The chancellor, no doubt irked at this tenacity and hoping Ledrede would drop the matter if enough obstacles were set in his way, declared that he would only issue a warrant for Alice’s arrest once a public investigation had been carried out. Not only that, the suspects had to be excommunicated – cast out from the favour and protection of the church – for a period of forty days.

Unhappy in his turn with the way the secular authorities were dealing with his concerns, Ledrede took matters into his own hands and summoned Alice to appear before him. However, when those serving the citation arrived at her son’s house (where she had been staying), Alice was nowhere to be found. Unperturbed, on the day Alice was supposed to appear before him, Ledrede went ahead and excommunicated her in her absence. Angry that Alice had evaded him, he went further still and turned his attention to her son. William Outlawe was ordered to appear before the bishop on a specified date, charged not only with heresy, but also protecting and giving shelter to heretics, including his own mother and those in her household.

Furious, Lord Arnold visited Ledrede at the nearby Priory of Kells, where he ‘pleaded most passionately’ with the bishop to cease his quest.⁶ Although the interview lasted until midnight, his words had little effect and finally, the exasperated seneschal resorted to insults and abuse in an attempt to get what he wanted. When this still had no effect, Arnold, in a final show of power, had Ledrede arrested the next morning on the outskirts of the town.

There was little Ledrede could do to resist. He nevertheless prolonged the matter for as long as possible, reading through the document that ordered his arrest and displaying the seal of the seneschal so the gathering crowd could be in no doubt as to who had ordered the arrest of their bishop. After great display, Ledrede finally went with his captors, pausing yet again at the prison gates where he told his distraught household that they should not weep, but instead be glad because his unfair treatment would be honour in the eyes of God.⁷

Ledrede was incarcerated in Kilkenny Castle where, with no doubt as to the righteousness of his cause, he played the wronged martyr to Lord Arnold’s secular might. Although Arnold might be seen to have the upper hand the Bishop gained much support during this time. He also had a deadly ace up his sleeve; Ledrede placed the entire diocese under interdict, removing any offices that the church would usually perform from all who lived there. No burials, baptisms or other rituals were to be carried out, leaving in mortal danger the souls of the wealthy and the poor alike.

With the two powers locked in stalemate the date that William Outlawe had been cited to appear came and went, as Arnold had no doubt intended. The purpose of his imprisonment served, Ledrede was released to welcoming crowds seventeen days later, with the hope that the interdict would be lifted and the matter regarding Alice would at last be dropped.

It soon became clear however, that the bishop’s determination to see Alice and her associates brought to justice had not cooled. On the contrary, he again summoned Alice and her son to answer the serious charges against them. In a somewhat unlikely coincidence, Ledrede received a summons of his own, demanding his presence in Dublin to answer for placing his diocese under interdict – on the exact same day that Alice and William were due to appear before the bishop.⁸

Alice had not been idle through this, using her lawyers to file countercharges of defamation against Ledrede in Dublin, declaring the excommunication invalid due to her absence and seeking redress for this unfairness. Ledrede argued that Alice had in fact been convicted in person (though how and when is unclear as she had not attended the previous summons) then declared that she was guilty of relapse into heresy – a crime that was indisputably punishable by death.

Despite this, Alice was set free to go about the town as she wished. She made good use of this advantage, cultivating the friendship of the mayor, William Doucemanne, and was wined and dined by the most influential in the town. Whether she was fearful or angry we can only speculate, but one thing was certain; Alice Kyteler was not going to submit quietly, bishop or no bishop.

The result of these machinations was a second summons to Dublin for Ledrede; upon arrival however, he found that the court assembled there was set firmly against him. The following day, Arnold produced a document that came from the King in England, discussing the power of the church. The forthright seneschal declared his opinion on the subject, announcing that ‘if some tramp from England or somewhere has obtained his bull or privilege in the pope’s court, we don’t have to obey that bull unless it has been enjoined on us by the king’s seal.’⁹ Arnold and the bishop thus entered into a lively debate, which again deteriorated into angry words from the seneschal and resulted in him storming from the building. With no sign of a rapprochement in sight it was eventually decided that outside mediation was needed and four bishops were chosen to hear the argument with both Ledrede and Arnold given the chance to air their grievances. Finally an uneasy truce was reached, with the bishop magnanimously declaring that he would forgive Lord Arnold the wrongs done against him if the seneschal would not protect known heretics and would allow Ledrede to continue his work against the enemies of the church. To seal the deal, the two men exchanged an embrace and a kiss before the assembled bishops and councillors, with all concerned hoping the matter was now at an end.

Despite this, it was not long before hostilities were resumed once again. Ledrede would not cease in his dogged determination to see the heretical Alice and her son brought to justice and, whilst in Dublin, sent officials to Kilkenny to enquire as to the practices of the heretics – where he was swiftly thwarted by the seneschal.¹⁰ One party at least had grown weary of the game by this point and Arnold also organised an inquisition himself into the matter of heresy in the area, intending to clear Alice’s name once and for all.

The outcome was unexpected and disastrous. Instead of proving Alice’s innocence, the citizens of Kilkenny firmly and publicly came forward with evidence that spoke all too clearly of her guilt; the allegations against Alice and her associates were serious indeed.

It was claimed that by denying Christ and abstaining from partaking in the sacraments of the Church, Alice and her followers could count on being granted whatever they wanted.¹¹ As if this were not bad enough, it was believed that these heretics went further still in their contempt, appropriating some of the rituals of the church for their own nefarious ends. In one such example, Alice and her friends were alleged to have excommunicated those they disliked; no one was safe from their ire, with even their own husbands being targeted in such a fashion if they caused the group displeasure.

Not only that, but they were said to make sacrifices to demons using living animals, meeting at the crossroads to carry out these gruesome rituals. Once the sacrifice had taken place, Alice and her fellow heretics would supposedly ask the demons they summoned for answers to their questions and help in carrying out their business. Whilst performing their perverted versions of the church sacraments, those involved were said to make potions from the intestines of the previously sacrificed animals, casting spells that could cause harm to their enemies or influence their emotions in any way that took their fancy.

On one fact in particular, those who came forward were unequivocal: Alice was the leader of the group, the most dangerous of them all. It was well-known that she had a particular demon who came only to her, going by the name of Robin, son of Art.¹² Along with using the demon to do her will, Alice also took him into her bed, completing the list of horrifying practices attributed to her name. Added to the accusations from her step-children that she had bewitched their fathers to death, the evidence against her was now greater than even the seneschal could ignore.

With no choice but to act, Arnold had his sheriffs arrest only the poorer women out of those accused, their lack of money and influence leaving them powerless to protest. Wealth and influence stood in Alice’s stead however and she was openly allowed to escape, fleeing the country with the daughter of her maidservant, Petronilla de Meath who had been arrested along with the others.

Cheated of his prey, Ledrede turned again on William Outlawe. Alice’s son was charged with heresy and the aiding and abetting of heretics, to which he duly confessed on bended knee.¹³ After a short incarceration in the castle, William was released on bail; far from carrying out his penance he continued to shelter heretics, keeping some under his own roof, before being re-arrested, and chained in irons.

Alice’s maid-servant Petronilla was not as fortunate as her well-connected mistress. On Ledrede’s orders, she was whipped, or beaten, six times and confessed to everything required of her, damning her mistress in the process.¹⁴ Alice had, Petronilla was clear, been the leader and instigator of everything they had done and there was none more powerful or better versed in sorcery than her mistress in Ireland and England, or perhaps even the world. Penance was offered to Petronilla, but she did not accept it, and, refusing to repent, was burnt on 3rd November 1324 before a large watching crowd.¹⁵

Nothing further is known of Alice Kyteler or her whereabouts.¹⁶ Where and how she lived out her days and what assumed identity she took on to conceal herself from discovery can, unfortunately, only be met with guesswork and outright speculation. One thing of which we can be certain, however, is that whatever fate befell her, it is unlikely to have been worse than that which awaited her in Ireland.

That there were tensions between Alice and the residents of Kilkenny before the drama of 1324 is evident. One telling event occu...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Dedication
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• List of Illustrations
• Introduction: The World of the Accused
• Chapter 1 - The Irish Sorceress: Alice Kyteler (1324)
• Chapter 2 - Satan’s Mistress: Agnes Waterhouse (1566)
• Chapter 3 - Charms and Witches: Gwen ferch Ellis (1594)
• Chapter 4 - To Swim a Witch: Mary Sutton (1612)
• Chapter 5 - A Servant’s Revenge: Joan Flower (1619)
• Chapter 6 - The Ipswich Witch: Mary Lakeland (1645)
• Chapter 7 - A Woman of Ill-Repute: Anne Wagg (1650)
• Chapter 8 - Madness or Magic: Isobel Gowdie (1662)
• Chapter 9 - A Witch and a Bitch: Jane Wenham (1712)
• Chapter 10 - A Victorian Witch: Susannah Sellick (1852–1860)
• Chapter 11 - The Conspiracy of the Last Witch: Helen Duncan (1944)
• Afterword
• Select Bibliography
• Notes