A Story of Witchcraft
When Lord Chief Justice Holt presided in the Court of King’s Bench (1690), a poor decrepit old woman was brought before him charged with witchcraft. “What is the proof?” asked his lordship. “She has a powerful spell,” answered the prosecutor. “Let me see it.” The “spell” was handed up to the bench. It proved to be a small ball of variously colored rags of silk, bound with threads of as many different hues. These were unwound and unfolded, until there was revealed a scrap of parchment, on which were written certain characters now nearly illegible from constant use. “Is this the spell?” asked the judge. The prosecutor replied that it was. After attentive scrutiny of the charm, the judge, turning to the old creature, said, “Prisoner, how came you by this?” “A young gentleman, my lord, gave it to me to cure my child’s ague.” “How long since?” “Thirty years, my lord.” “And did it cure the child?” “Oh, yes, sir; and many others.” “I am glad of it.” The judge paused a few moments, and then addressed the jury as follows: “Gentlemen of the jury, thirty years ago, I and some companions, as thoughtless as myself, went to this woman’s place, then a public house, and, after enjoying ourselves, found we had no means to discharge the reckoning. I had recourse to a stratagem. Observing a child ill of an ague, I pretended I had a spell to cure her. I wrote the classic line you see on that scrap of parchment, and was discharged of the demand on me by the gratitude of the poor woman before us for the supposed benefit.”