East Anglian Witch hunter
Danny Buck's blog for trying to bring together his Academic work towards his PhD. Looking at how the witch hunt in Great Yarmouth was a response to the failure of the Puritan utopia. Please get in touch! Danny.buck@uea.ac.uk
Thursday, 31 March 2016
Peter Elmer's Appendix to the East Anglian Witch hunt
A vital source to anyone looking at the East Anglian Wich hunt- http://practitioners.exeter.ac.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Eastanglianwitchtrialappendix2.pdf
Thursday, 10 March 2016
A few of my favourite Sermon titles by John Brinsley, Minister of Gospel in Great Yarmouth
The The The mystical |
Wednesday, 17 February 2016
Tuesday, 16 February 2016
The Crisis of Urban Government during the English Civil War: Great Yarmouth's 1645 witch-hunt
Great Yarmouth was a wealthy,
independent and well connected port town and was approaching the zenith of its
power and prosperity in the seventeenth century. London's herrings were salted there while the
trade passing up and down the North sea helped line its merchant's pockets. It was a major stop for those passing from
England to the Netherlands, and from there on to the New World. The merchants who dominated the town jealously
protected their rights and privileges within the town, granted through an
oligarchic corporation. The town had
long had a history of being highly reformed in its religion. Great Yarmouth was just one of many godly
port towns dotted across the North sea coast of England, albeit particularly
successful.
The town's politics from the 1630s
onwards are remarkable because show a precocious political discourse. Through the latter part of Charles' personal
rule saw the playing out of fierce factional conflict, played along both
religious and interest lines. With the
outbreak of armed conflict, the hopes for reconciliation were dashed and
further ossification took root. The
economic dislocation caused by the war undermined relations between the
governed and the governors. The godly
merchants hoping to unite the town, instead found themselves divided by the
increasing influential Independent congregation. In 1645, at the height of the
crisis of authority for the town's leadership, Great Yarmouth's assembly sent
out an invitation to Matthew Hopkins.
The political crisis and the witch hunt were connected, responses to the
same ossification.
The connection between political
crisis and witch hunting remains under exposed.
Large scale surveys have noted the pattern of witch hunts, connecting them
to political weakness in developing nation states. There has been considerably less attention
paid to witch hunts as both a response to and a reflection of local political
crisis. Larger surveys don't have time
to delve into the conflicts in depth, while local political studies haven't
used witch hunts as part of their exploration of transition. Annabel Gregory's study of Rye, looking at how a witchcraft accusation
reflected the strain of political and religious transition within the town,
might be the most powerful use of witchcraft as a means of studying a political
crisis in an urban community.
Witch hunting needs to be
considered as part of urban politics because it was a political decision. Unlike
an accusation, witch hunting required the apparatus of the local state. A witch finder needed to be summoned, allowed
to investigate and give evidence, and paid for his services and paid
handsomely. This could not occur without
the support of those with their hands on the levers of government within
towns. The question is why it was
supported by urban elites, why did they act to promote the hunting of witches?
This talk is a response to that
gap, and an application of the political study of witchcraft to show how the
1645 political crisis is informed by and informs the witch hunt in Great Yarmouth. Firstly
by examining the trials and the evidence in depth the paper will examine
how closely the hunt was tied to local concerns over divisions within the body
politic and how that informed godly governance.
Secondly it will tie the witch hunt into larger political crisis within
Great Yarmouth, giving it meaning as part of a much larger process of purgation
and reconciliation. This will provide the context to see witch hunting back in its
place as part of the political response to the 17th century crisis.
The witch hunt in Great Yarmouth is
a useful tool for interrogating the political life of Great Yarmouth because of
the strength of its bureaucratic and judicial records. These are corroborated by the narrative of a confession
from Matthew Hale's Modern Relations. Hales account is important, not just for the
detail it brings over and above the rather Spartan version from Hopkins and
Stearne, but his source. He relied upon
the son of Thomas Whitfield who was the town's junior minister at the
time. That means the detail drawn upon
from Hales account is from someone close to the ruling group in the town and
part of their official investigation into the witch hunt.
Hale's version of events deals with
the confession of one Elizabeth Bradwell and her bewitching of Henry Moulton's
son. Bradwell was either a widow or a
spinister, old enough that in court she was alternately referred to as
both. She isn't even named in Hale's
version. Instead she is an Old Woman,
reliant on the charity of the local ministers twice a week. She was a woman without influence or family. Her victim's father, Henry Moulton, was a
wealthy hosiery merchant, but also an important member of the Assembly of Great
Yarmouth and well connected and well known puritan. The case already crosses the great divide of
prosperity and power within Yarmouth's population.
The incident inciting Bradwell's
demonic temptation resulted from a refusal from Henry Moulton's maid to give
Bradwell part work or charity. The
Devil came to her and offered her support and revenge after she signed his name
in her book. Firstly she asked for
revenge upon Henry Moulton and his maid, but the Devil claimed that they were
too godly to be touched. The Devil
offered instead to afflict Moulton's young son, but required Bradwell to use a
wax poppet with a nail inside and bury it within the Town's churchyard. This was enough to cause Moulton's son to
sicken for some 18 months. Bradwell was investigated by the town's ministers to
whom she confessed all this. This
confession and Moulton's accusation saw Bradwell hanged.
At first sight Bradwell's case
seems a simple one of charity refused.
Bradwell had been used to receiving work from Moulton or charity to
supplement the limited charitable giving from the church, but the failure of
provision and her own powerlessness offered demonic power as a means of revenge
to someone cast at the very bottom of society.
While that narrative has enough power to
hold together Bradwell's confession, it also a framework, a
shorthand. The detail of her case illuminates
the conflicts within Yarmouth that lay behind the witch-hunt. The stress on the role of the ministers, the
godliness and authority of Moulton, and the Devil mirroring the actions
sectarian minister are all responses to Great Yarmouth's politics.
The crisis of authority among the
Presbyterians provides the context for their fears over Bradwell's demonic
pact. The devil provided an alternate
source of authority, tempted those disposed against the godly governors. All he required to give Bradwell comfort and
revenge was her name, in blood, written into his book. The devil resembles the a conformist
minister, his pact resembling the signing of a church book. Great Yarmouth was already faced with two
separatist churches, both an influential Independent congregation and a
threatening Anabaptist sect. Bradwell's
pact sounds like a conversion story of a heterodox convert, thus making the
connection between sect's ossifying effects on the community of the parish with
demonic infiltration.
The most notable thing from Hale's
account is the lack of role of the witch finder Matthew Hopkins. His role is reduced to that of accuser, the magistrates sending the accused to the ministers
to be examined. It was also the sermons
of Whitfield and Brinsley that protect Moulton from the devil's influence. While the concentration on the role of the
junior of the two ministers role reflects the origins of this account, it does
allow an insight into the role of the ministers during this crisis. The ministers are a part of the town's inner
circle, with Brinsley married to the daughter of Yarmouth's wealthiest
citizen. They were expected then to be
part of the judicial process of rooting out the witches within the community,
by taking confessions. This cannot hide the palpable failure of the ministers
to prevent the corruption of Bradwell.
The tension that Hales fails to reconcile is between the way the
constant coming to church to hear the ministers protects Moulton and his maid,
but fails Elizabeth Bradwell. The divide between godly and retrograde
remains stark and it is a decision made locally, not imposed by a witch finder
externally.
The same tensions lie within Henry
Moulton's role. As an Assembly member he
was a part of Great Yarmouth's legal system, a godly magistrate. His inviolability to the devil's attacks is
stressed as being due to being part of the Presbyterian community, listening to
Brinsley and Whitfield's sermons as well as private piety. The communal element is given priority, with
his constant appearance at the sermons being particularly praiseworthy. This attempt to stress his religiosity can't
hide that it was Moulton's failure as a provider of charity that set Bradwell
down her dark path. While this is
distanced by rejection come from Moulton's man of business and maid, there
remains the underlying tension between the expectation of godly charity and the
economic strain of the war of the four kingdoms. The crisis for godly magistrates comes from
the difficulty in reconciling the expectations of public godliness with his
failure to provide the expected charity in a time of hardship.
The confession of Elizabeth
Bradwell provides a vital insight into the divisions that lay behind the
general crisis in Great Yarmouth and divided its leadership from the wider
population. The threat of religious nonconformity
threatened demonic influence over Great Yarmouth's citizenry, and while the
piety of its ministers protected the godly it seemed to do little for the
retrograde. Economic dislocation helped
to further fray the ties that had bound together the godly governors with the
rest of the population in the town. The
witch hunt provided a symbolic outlet for these tensions and fears, reflecting
a sense of crisis and instability filtered through the perceptions of godly
governance.
However to understand and inform
this moment and to understand why the witch hunt as seen as a necessary act of
purgation in 1645 requires placing it in a context of existing pressures and
strains. Admitting the need for a witch
hunt implied a failure of godly governance, with a corruption within the
population. The witch-hunt can only be understood as a response to a moment of
supreme weakness where purgation was the preferable option.
The place of witch hunt as part
of wider process of purgation has been
neglected. It needs to be considered as
part of a spectrum of responses to the encroaching division within 17th century
society. It was part of the same
reaction that inspired rioting, political purges and iconoclasm across East
Anglia during the civil war. In the
extreme moment of violence the existing pressures were exaggerated, making the
witch hunt an excellent means of exploring the religious and political strains
underpinning this unrest.
The nature of corporate governance
stressed a consensual politics. The
construction of the corporation as a legal person required a unified will to
have the authority to act. The
threat of internal dissension was not
just to the good running of a town, but to its obedience, freedom and independence
from central interference. It also
required popular assent through the rituals of selection. When faced with the reality of an increasing
ideological gulf, the strain of maintaining unity in the face of ossification
became the motor of conflict.
The roots of the growing divide lay
in the 1630s. The existing tensions
within urban communities between those with court patronage and local support
as well as between Laudian conformists and the hotter sort of protestant were
exacerbated by the policies of the Carolinian government. By seeking conformity in politics and
religion, the agents of the crown destroyed the ambiguity that made consensus
possible. The relative extremity of the
King's position helped Puritans form wider alliances of resistance. However it also helped to strengthen the
divide between Puritans willing to wait out the Caroline regime in England, and
those who sought to move to the continent or New World rather than be
compromised
The outbreak of the civil war in
England sped up this process. The
formation of the local assemblies and the move to either side occurred due to a few partisans dragging the
neuters into either side. This was
followed by the purgation of their rivals, engraining the growing
divisions. The threat of a reversal via
uprising, invasion or coup meant that the small group of committed governors
were under threat from perceived enemies both within and without. Unity seemed increasingly distant, while the
increased demand upon local governors increased as the war became more brutal.
Heterodox religious sects further
divided communities. For the godly communities of the East Coast where the
Puritans were in control, the problem lay in the collapse of consensus. While all the hotter sorts of protestants
agreed in the need for the removal of the Episcopal system, they could not
agree on the settlement on should take.
The contradictory desires for a purified and yet comprehensive
settlement lead to a fracturing between Presbyterians seeking conformity and
Independents seeking a purity of congregation.
These congregations threatened the cohesion of the Puritan elite,
offering those outside the charmed circles of patronage their own influence and
power.
For Great Yarmouth the roots of division
lay in the 1630s and the development of Puritan political power as a reaction
to encroaching royal power. As Richard
Cust has so richly described there was a precocious conflict for conformity in
the town, waged between court backed candidates accusing the Puritans in the
town of faction and the Puritans who rallied around John Brinsley as a popular
minister to attempt to effect godly reform.
With John Brinsley dismissal and installation at nearby Lound the town
was divided between the godly gadding to gear him and the conformists
supporting the Anglican Matthew Brookes.
The tension between these two visions
for Yarmouth boiled over in 1637. There was an accusation from the town's
Puritans that Matthew Brookes' man of business Mark Prynne was involved in
witchcraft. The antagonism between
Brookes and the Puritans heightened tension enough that he was being seen as a
demonic. Popular rioting in 1636 at the
arrival of the high church bishop of Norwich Matthew Wren show the willingness
of the Puritan authorities to tolerate violent action to stymie the growing
influence of Laudianism.
With the collapse of Charles'
personal rule there seemed space for a reconciliation and a godly unified Great
Yarmouth. Brinsley was reinstated and
Brookes cast out. The previously
influential 'court' supporters on the assembly stood down. This optimism is recorded in Brinsley's
sermon Healing Israel's breaches
which described the process of rebuilding the town as a godly citadel. Yet there was already a sense of this
reformed world coming under threat. The
sermon was given to Norfolk's trained bands, in readiness to defend the new
settlement. However the bigger lay
within the town, those seeking to pull down the freshly rebuilt walls. Brinsley paralleled them with wreckers in a
siege. There was an understanding of
urban politics as something fragile.
When the Civil War arrived it
threatened the stability of Great Yarmouth's politics. Despite the distance between Great Yarmouth
and the frontline the town faced severe economic strain. The continuing conflict require ever
increasing funds to maintain an army in the field, and with Great Yarmouth
unwilling to let its volunteers go they needed to provide the hard monies the
parliamentarian army required. The town
though still felt isolated, and engaged in large scale fortification, with
embrasures, a moat and a large number of cannons brought in at great
expense. They also hired a professional captain to
train the militia along with purchasing and equipping a warship to defend the
herring fleet. These were paid for in
part by the MP and key Presbyterian Edward Owner with the promise of repayment
later, leaving the cost remaining hanging over the town.
The strain of these additional costs
was made more onerous by the wider conflict which limited trade to and from
Yarmouth, hitting the merchant oligarchy hard. The result of this was that the increasing
costs struggled to be met by taxation.
The assembly began authorising the distress of goods in 1643. The duty of collection had become so onerous
that Henry Moulton feigned ill health to get out of collection, while others complained about being out of
great sums of money. The previously
voluntary collections to support the town ministers had to be enforced,
requiring further distress. This left
the assembly in a perilous situation, struggling to get the funds needed to support
the cause and defend themselves. With both their temporal and spiritual
defenders in arrears it is no wonder the assembly were worried.
The shortfall and decline in trade
wasn't just a severe strain on the resources of the merchants, but a disaster
for the poor of Great Yarmouth. Where
previously they had been able to find work and charity from their betters, they
were turned away. The need for
additional work was all the more pressing as from 1643 the herring fleet came
under attack by a privateer in the North Sea leading to a halving of the total catch.
In a town of fishermen this was ruinous for the ordinary families. This had a further knock on effect on the
very poorest, since the half doles from the herring went toward the charitable
works in the town. The town deployed their warship to defend the
herring fleet in 1644 but the catch struggled to recover. 1644 also saw one of the coldest winters in
living memory, putting yet further strain on dangerously thin resources. Resistance was expressed through small acts
of defiance, such as fishing for herring on the Sabbath. In response the Assembly choose to lay the
boom across the harbour to prevent further fishing on the Lord's day. The governors were no longer sure of the
governed and their commitment to godly reformation and it cannot be a
coincidence that the witch hunt came just after the period of greatest hardship.
More dangerous to the Assembly was
the growing resistance to the Presbyterian oligarchy coming from within the
merchant group. While the initial foot
dragging over the rates was passive, there was increasingly vocal and active
disobedience. From 1643 the well
connected merchant Thomas Bendish sought to subvert the will of the assembly.
He ignored the requirement to land goods at the harbour, choosing instead to
use the salt pans across the river to avoid paying customs, requiring the
Assembly to dig up the landing. He also
attempted to confiscate the Earl of Manchester's ship and its cargo when it was
blown into Great Yarmouth. Despite
censure and a fine of 40 shillings he remained defiant, using his status as man
of business for one of the town's MPs to avoid further punishment. The failure to control Bendish, despite
repeated offences showed the limits of the Assembly's authority.
The Independence of the Assembly
was further threaten in November 1643 when notice was receive that the supreme
commander in East Anglia intended to a place a military governor in the town
over the heads of the Assembly, in
response to a request from citizens living there. The Assembly found it necessary to send back
a response to counter aspersions to their loyalty to the parliamentarian
cause. When the governor, Colonel
Fleetwood, arrived he agreed to swear an oath testifying the falseness of these
aspersions into the town's hutch book. This
was a threat to the very independence of the town and its customs, by those who
would have preferred military to civilian rule.
The Assembly, while able to water down the governorship could no longer
represent themselves as the united voice for the body politic and faced schism
without knowing who sought to undermine them.
The most vivid ossification
developed from early 1644. The puritans
had been able to agree on what they wanted to remove, but identifying a new
settlement remained difficult. The
Presbyterian Ministers Brinsley and Whitfield had been willing to share the
pulpit with the preacher William Bridge and his protégé John Oxenbridge ,
granting them the Wednesday exercises.
His role in the assembly of divines had brought prestige to the town and
a relatively blind eye had been turned to his community of followers who had
arrived with him from his exile in the Netherlands. They had been part of a shared godly
ministry. However after Bridge's signing
of the Apologeticall Narration as part of the so called 'Independent preachers',
the difference between his position and that of Great Yarmouth's ministers
became stark. His desire for separate
godly communities was at odds with Brinsley's repeated call for an inclusive
community. He referred to the Separation
as pulling down a newly restored temple and breaking down defensive city walls.
To try and control the situation Bridge
was banned from the pulpit and separate churches were spoken out against by Brinsley's
sermons. The Independents remained defiant, their continued survival and
increasing conversions a challenge to the notion of a unified community at
prayer. The Independents were also willing to argue their case, including a
petition promulgated in the town asking for toleration for the Independent
congregation in 1644. This was followed
by increasingly influential Great Yarmouth converts to the congregation. This included a number of wives of common
councillors on the assembly. These were
from the lower rungs of the assembly, often new families to the assembly,
excluded from the inner circle of the Aldermancy. This spiritual perversion was
added to by a political one as the Independent congregation accepted the
troublesome Thomas Bendish into their midst, making it a second, increasingly
powerful faction. Their conversions
began to take on a demonic character to the Presbyterians, with Brinsley's sermon 'A looking Glass for good women'
compared Independency with Eve's rebellion against God.
Finally in January 1645 the
Independents managed a psychological breakthrough with three members of the
assembly openly joining the congregation.
This was a collapse of the unity of the godly governors, a crisis in
their perception of the assembly as a united godly body, caused by those they
presumed to be among the saints. With
the infiltration and turning by and of men reckoned amongst the elect, and
which began with their wives, it is not surprising minds should have turned to
witchcraft.
The Presbyterians brought to bear
their full power and authority to attempt to end the influence of the
Independent Congregation. In February of
1645 their leading citizen Edward Owner and the minister John Whitfield went to
see Bridge, seeking to show their displeasure at the separate church within
their community. After talks the
Congregationalists agreed to forebear increasing their membership for the
foreseeable future. This cauterised the
wound, preventing further growth. In
April the Presbyterians went further, calling a special meeting of the assembly
to discuss a new settlement for the town.
While the Independents had enough influence to trigger a debate within
the Assembly and call for a separate place of worship and further ministers in
the town, the end result was a simple official Presbyterian policy for Great
Yarmouth. Public preaching was only to
occur at the parish church and the only the two Presbyterian ministers were
allowed to preach as they had before.
There were to be no more ministers in Great Yarmouth. This was hailed as a great victory, a return
to peace and uniformity by cleansing the town of these enemies within. No longer would the Independents pull down a
church half repaired.
The connection between the witch
hunt and the dispute with the Independent church is notable. The debates that saw the call for Independent
forbearance were followed by the assembly sending a letter of invitation to
Matthew Hopkins. The question remains
if the witch hunt was an act of purifying that mirrored the attempted purgation
of the Independent church or an attempt of healing by offering a mutual threat.
The witch-hunt that occurred in
1645 comes then as a result of a godly governance under immense pressure. It was failing to provide governance that the
parliamentarian authorities felt they could trust, considering the imposition
of a military government. They struggled
to raise the monies needed to defend the town and the parliamentary cause,
turning very quickly from a voluntary collection to the use of force to be sure
of collection which still lagged behind demand.
They struggled to provide charity to the poorer folk, both as an
assembly and individuals, causing further tension on top of war related
hardship. They had to enforce godliness,
no longer sure of the piety of the wider population. The assembly faced dissolution and division
from those who mistrusted their vision for Yarmouth. These tensions would have challenged any
early modern government, leading the assembly to seek the corruption that
threatened to divide their urban commonwealth.
The Independent congregation and
the witches mirrored each other as spiritual threats to the community. The charismatic leadership of Bridge was
mirrored by the Devil in the witch narratives.
The threat of the enemy within, of citizens corrupted and attempting to
undermine the Presbyterian authorities was the same. The crisis of Godly Governance represented by
the Independent church provided the same existential threat of an enemy within corrupting
the citizenry. It is that struggle, that
need to purge and purify, that places witch-hunting as part of Godly governance
and a response to a wider crisis.
The 1640s was a period of immense
transition, with the very nature of urban politics in flux. The shift from a consensual politics that
excluded the citizenry before the civil wars to the development of a
competitive electoral politics determined by election after the restoration was
one of the largest changes in political life in British history. It was mirrored by a similar collapse in
religious unity and the tacit acceptance of divided religious communities. The witch hunt taps into the luminal tipping
point between these two models of community, where unity was sought but
division grew increasingly engrained.
The methods of restoring a consensus became more extreme and purgative
rather than restorative. It is in that
spirit we need to consider the witch hunt as a part of a Puritan reaction to
impurity that reflected deep weakness that purgation rather than healing and
reconciliation were seen as the answer.
Looking forward it was a failed coup and purge of Independents in 1649
that saw Great Yarmouth able to reconcile the duelling impulses for unity and
purity in peace
Welcome!
Hello World! This is just a bringing together of my academic endeavours to try and get feedback and interest on my work. Ever since I was an undergrad, the complex politics and strains within British Civil War Great Yarmouth have obsessed me. The complex personal interrelationships pulled apart not by the expected pressures of Royalism and Parliamentarianism. but instead along sectarian lines. In the middle of this conflict comes an invitation to Matthew Hopkins, the Witch finder general, his presence the electrifying centre to an already convoluted tangle of intrigue that takes in Godly ministers, unscrupulous merchants, unwelcome military governors, herring pirates, sorcerers and poor old beggar women. I hope my work here begins to untangle some of this.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)