by Tony Locke
At this the doctor turned white and dropped his glass.
‘What? A leap year? It can’t be!’
He looked around fearfully for his Bible. Where had he put it? But it was too late. There came a hammering on the door like the rumble of thunder. When an old servant opened it, there stood a tall man in a green cloak. Ignoring the servant’s protests he strode into the castle and up the stairs to the room where the doctor was cowering.
‘It’s time that our bargain was completed, Dr Colville,’ he said in a voice dripping with hate.
The doctor grovelled and protested, begging for a compromise, but without another word, the devil wrapped his cloak around the doctor and, with a puff of foul-smelling smoke, they disappeared in front of the astonished guests. Neither was ever seen again.
33
FLORENCE NEWTON, THE
WITCH OF YOUGHAL
COUNTY CORK
In areas of Ireland that had been widely settled by the English, English law prevailed. So it was not unusual to find an English-style witchcraft accusation in an area such as Youghal, County Cork, which had been extensively settled by English puritans.
Since the mid- to late 1500s, the town had been considered ‘English’. Sir Walter Raleigh had been one of its early mayors and the first potatoes from the New World were grown in Youghal. ‘English ways’ were said to prevail there. So it is not surprising that English beliefs in witchcraft also manifested themselves in the trial of Florence Newton in 1661.
It all began because of a disagreement between an old woman and a young girl. Florence Newton was committed to Youghal prison by the mayor of the town on 24 March 1661 to stand trial for witchcraft at the Cork assizes on 11 September. She was accused of bewitching a servant girl, Mary Longdon, who was called to give evidence against her at her trial.
Newton was a beggar woman who seldom worked and who went from door to door scrounging what she could. She had a nasty reputation and used this to intimidate people so she could get what she wanted.
Mary Longdon was the servant of a well-to-do local bailiff who went on to become mayor. She believed that her position gave her the right to airs and graces and she was thought by those who knew her to be a little bit snobbish.
Longdon accused Newton of threatening her because she refused to give her food from her master’s table. Later she was confronted by Newton who she claimed kissed her violently.
Shocked by this, Longdon returned home. Shortly afterwards she fell ill and became subject to ‘fits and trances’, which became extreme. She also started to vomit up all manner of odd things – needles, pins, horseshoe nails, wool, straw – and it would take three or four strong men to hold her down.
During these trances, she saw visions of Florence Newton, who would approach her and stick pins into various parts of her body. Longdon stated that the fits and trances only began after Newton had kissed her and that she ‘had bewitched her’ with her kiss. It is here that Newton sealed her own fate for, as Longdon finished giving her evidence, Newton pointed at her and said, ‘Now she is down.’ At this, Longdon fell to the ground and had a violent fit, biting at her own arms, shrieking and foaming at the mouth, much to the distress of all in the courthouse.
Newton was ordered to recite the Lord’s Prayer but after several attempts failed to do so. The trial now began to take on some of the characteristics of English witch-finding, with specific examinations of the accused taking place under the supervision of supposed ‘experts’. Valentine Greatrakes (or Greatrix, as he is called in some records) seems to have operated in this case much in the same way as Matthew Hopkins in Essex. Why he involved himself in the case is unclear but it seems he was contacted by some of the Youghal citizens as he had professed to have knowledge of witchcraft and the methods used to interrogated suspected sorcerers.
The evidence against Newton was further strengthened when her jailer dropped dead. He was ill and it is probable that he had a stroke but his dying words were, ‘She’s done for me.’ The trial concluded. She was indicted on two counts: first, the bewitching of Mary Longdon and, secondly, causing the death of her jailer, David Jones. The trial had been almost wholly conducted in an English manner and according to English law. It caused great interest in Youghal and further afield and was considered to be so important that the Irish Attorney General went down to prosecute. Sadly there is no record of the verdict and Florence Newton disappears from all records of the time. It is likely, however, that she was found guilty and sentenced to be hanged in accordance with the punishment prescribed by English law in such matters.
It is easy, with the benefit of hindsight, to dismiss these events as fanciful but to do so would be to dismiss the thinking of seventeenth-century Ireland. The lawmakers and rulers of this society were the educated people of the time. Witchcraft was a label they attached to anything they considered to be inexplicable and it also enabled them to cope with the changing ethos of the time.
The trial of Florence Newton offers an insight into the link between Irish and English society at the time. It reveals the tension, fear and anxiety that underpinned life in a seventeenth-century Irish plantation town.
34
LADY BETTY
(1750-1807)
COUNTY ROSCOMMON
Lady Betty was an infamously cruel hangwoman who worked in Roscommon jail in the eighteenth century. According to Sir William Wilde, she drew a sketch of each of her victims on the walls of her dwelling with a burnt stick.
Born into a tenant farmer’s family in County Kerry, the woman who came to be known as Lady Betty married another poor farmer, named Surgue, and they had a family. Upon his death, Betty and her three children were left destitute.
She set out with her children on the long walk to Roscommon town to look for a better life. En route her two younger children died of starvation and exposure, leaving only her elder son. When they reached Roscommon, Betty and her son moved into an abandoned hovel and begged, borrowed and stole to eke out a living. She was known to have a violent, cruel temper. Whether it was because of this or the grinding poverty (or a combination of both), her son decided to leave and go to America to seek his fortune. He promised to return one day a rich man.
The years passed and Betty supplemented her meagre income by taking in desperate lodgers and travellers for a few pennies a night. One stormy night a traveller arrived at the door looking for a room. Betty took him in but she noticed how well dressed he was and saw that he had a purse full of gold, unlike her usual guests. The temptation proved too much. She waited until he was asleep, then stabbed him to death and robbed him. Tragically for her, as she was going through his belongings, she found papers that identified him as her son, unrecognisable after years apart. It has been suggested the reason why he had not identified himself to her was that he wanted to find out if she was still the violent, bad-tempered person he had known. Unfortunately for him, she was. Betty was arrested, tried for murder and sentenced to hang.
The day of her execution arrived and she was led to the scaffold together with others due to be hanged. Amongst the various thieves, sheep stealers and murderers were some Irish rebels and Whiteboys. However, because of local loyalty to the rebels, no hangman could be found, so the authorities did not know what to do. This was when Betty made her mark on history. She said to the sheriff, ‘Set me free and I’ll hang the lot of them.’ She killed twenty-five that day and, with the full support of the authorities, continued her gruesome work right across Connacht.
She lived rent-free in a third-floor chamber at the prison and although she was paid no salary she loved her work and never had to worry about food. She had a very public method of hanging: a scaffold was erected right outside her window and the unfortunate person had to crawl out, already noosed, and stand there as she pulled a lever, which would send the condemned to his or her death. She had a nasty habit of letting the bodies ‘do the pendulum thing’ while she sketched them in charcoal. When she eventually died, in the first decade of the n
ineteenth century, it was found that her room was decorated with the images of the hundreds of people she had happily sent to their deaths.
Lady Betty’s cold-hearted actions meant that she was universally feared, loathed, hated and shunned. In 1802 she received a pardon for her own horrific crime. By the time of her death in 1807 a powerful myth had built up around her. It would be many years before mothers stopped threatening their children to watch out, if they didn’t behave Lady Betty would get them. She is buried inside the walls of Roscommon jail, the scene of her hideous handiwork.
35
BIDDY EARLY
(1798-1874)
COUNTY CLARE
One of the greatest gifts the fairy folk can give you is healer powers. This has featured in folklore for generations. Along with the gift of healing came the knowledge of herbs. In Ireland we call these people ‘fairy doctors’. One of the most famous of these was Biddy Early. We will hear more about her later on.
Those who became fairy doctors, or wise women, often gained their gift through an illness that caused them take the journey to the other world. This would be called a ‘near-death experience’ today. Their soul or spirit energy would leave their body to wander the spirit world. Upon their return to health they found that they had gained supernatural knowledge.
The fairy doctor or wise woman never used any invasive treatment, such as surgery. Charms, herbs, chants, healing stones and crystals were the tools of their trade. Their knowledge of herbs and where to find them was incredible. Some of those who had travelled to the spirit world also returned with the gift of clairvoyance. They were, however, forbidden from passing on the secrets of their gift until they were dying and then only to their oldest child.
It was said that if a child suddenly began to wither or fail in health for no apparent reason, then that child had been struck by the fairies and a fairy doctor had to be called upon straight away. These unfortunate children were said to be ‘wanted by the fairies’ and they would soon fade away and die unless treated. This could have been caused by the evil eye or the fairy wind; the fairy doctor would be able to tell which of these malign influences had caused the ailment.
A person who sought the services of the fairy doctor could not pay with money. However, payment in kind was acceptable. This might include gifts of food or drink that the person seeking advice and help could afford.
Biddy Early was a famous Irish seer and healer, a wise woman of the nineteenth century often identified as ‘Biddy, the Healer’. She was also known as ‘the Wise Woman’ or ‘the Witch’. Much of what we know of her has been passed down in the oral tradition and has now become part of Irish mythology and folklore. However, this has resulted in a certain amount of ‘poetic licence’ being taken when people have described her life. It seems certain though that Biddy Early did have at least some genuine powers of healing and clairvoyance as she was widely consulted for her knowledge of cures and her council. It was also believed that she was one of the Sidhe (fairies).
Born Bridget Ellen Connors in Lower Faha near Kilanena, County Clare in 1798, Biddy was the daughter of a small land farmer, John Thomas Connors, and his wife Ellen Early. Biddy was described as small in stature and pretty, a woman who kept her good looks throughout her life. Although she married four times, Biddy always used her mother’s maiden name, believing that her gifts were inherited through the female line. Her mother taught her all about herbs and how to make potions, just as her mother before her had taught her.
At the age of 16, both her parents died and Biddy was evicted from their home and forced to take work as a serving girl in the nearby towns of Feakle and Ennis. At another time, her name went on the books in the workhouse in Ennis, which was known as the House of Industry. If Biddy later gained a reputation for being a hard woman, it’s not surprising given the harsh nature of her early life. Biddy would have worked long hours at menial tasks, but it was here that she was taught to read and write by another worker.
In 1817 she met and married widower Pat Mally, a middle-aged man from Gurteenreagh, who died a short time later. After the death of her first husband, she married his son (her stepson), John Mally, with whom she had a son called Paddy. Unfortunately her son Paddy died when he was just 8 years old of typhus, a common illness in those times. It was after this tragedy that Biddy began to use her healing powers. She started handing out herbal cures tied up in small sachets and liquid potions in little bottles with strict instructions on how they should be used. Later, it was said that the politician Daniel O’Connell visited her in 1828 to ask her advice on seeking election in Clare.
Biddy’s powers of clairvoyance are credited to a mysterious dark bottle. How this ‘magic’ bottle came into her possession has become part of her myth and legend. Some believe that her late husband Pat Mally gave it to her before he died or it may have been given to her by her son John before he died; others believe that it was given to her by the Sidhe (fairies). There are some stories that suggest that she lived amongst the fairies for a time when she was a child. It was also said that Biddy could see and talk to the Sidhe in their language and it was then that they taught her how to use her gifts.
Biddy was told that by looking into the bottle with one eye and keeping the other eye open, she would be able to see what ailed people and view the future. In exchange for this ability, she was never to charge money for her services or she would lose her powers. She could accept gifts, but was to give away whatever was left over after her own needs had been met. She could never allow others to look into the bottle or they would go mad or die. By using the bottle, Biddy always knew when a person was about to visit her and whether they had gone to a doctor or a priest first. If they had, then she usually refused to treat them unless she was in a very good mood.
In 1840, her second husband died of a liver ailment, most likely due to an excess of alcohol. Biddy quickly married again. Her third husband was Tom Flannery from Carrowroe in County Clare. They moved into a cottage on Dromore Hill in Kilbarron. The house overlooked Kilbarron Lake, which soon became known locally as Biddy Early’s Lake. By this time Biddy’s reputation as a healer and seer had spread. It was here on Dromore Hill that she created many of her most powerful cures. Hundreds of people came to see her and it was said that the road to her cottage was always busy.
However, it wasn’t just humans that Biddy helped; she also brought relief to animals and treated them with great care. In the time of Biddy Early, the death of an animal could bring great hardship to people living in rural farming communities. Animals were relied on heavily and to lose one could lead to eviction if farm work could not be completed. Many of the stories about Biddy include tales of her healing a family’s most important horse or cow. She also helped many people to restore their wells, often the only sources of clean drinking water, or to solve problems that women ran into while churning their butter. Water and butter were vital to a peasant’s everyday life.
During the nineteenth century, superstitious belief in fairies and all things apparently supernatural was very strong. When something happened that seemed miraculous but had nothing to do with the Church, it was commonly attributed to witchcraft and the devil. As such, the local Church viewed Biddy with suspicion and all the local clergy were opposed to her. As her fame spread, they tried to warn people off to stop them visiting her.
In 1865, while visiting friends in Ennis, Biddy was charged with witchcraft under the 1586 statute; however, the case was dismissed due to a lack of sufficient evidence. Many of the local people stood their ground against the clergy, maintaining that Biddy did nothing but good works.
In 1868, her third husband died. By this time Biddy was 70 years old, although she still looked fifty, and a year later she married her fourth husband, Thomas Meaney. However, he too got sick and died within the year (he was in his thirties). Many believed that he, too, died from alcohol abuse as a lot of people gave Biddy whiskey and other strong drink (such as poteen) as payment. Her husbands never needed to work as Bid
dy provided them with everything through her healing work. After her last husband died, Biddy’s own health started to deteriorate and she died in April 1874 with a rosary around her neck and her mysterious dark bottle wrapped in a red shawl beside her.
Before her death and despite their many differences, Biddy was befriended by one of the local priests, Fr Andrew Connellan, who anointed her on her deathbed. She asked him not to let her bottle fall into the wrong hands when she died. According to her last wishes the priest took her bottle and hurled it into Kilbarron Lake. Since that time, such was the strong belief in the legendary powers of Biddy Early that many attempts have been made to trawl the lake in search of the bottle but it has never been found.
Is this fact or fiction?
That Biddy Early was a real person is beyond doubt, but living in an age when education was minimal (except amongst the genteel and priestly class), most of the folk who knew Biddy were illiterate so no reliable record of her life was written down. However, such was her reputation that stories about her life were passed down through the local oral tradition. Twenty years after her death, Lady Isabella Augusta Gregory (a friend of W.B. Yeats) sought out people who had known Biddy. She recorded their stories in her study of Irish folklore, Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland (1920).
A modern story, presumably started by poor losers, concerns the Clare hurling team. It was suggested that the reason the team kept losing in the final was due to a curse put on the team by Biddy Early. This curse was held responsible for stopping them from winning the All-Ireland for more that eighty years. It took a letter to The Irish Times, written by an Ennis man called Bill Loughnane, to finally put the myth to rest.
It was after Clare ‘broke’ the curse by winning the 1995 championship. He wrote: