by Sylvia Kent
His reputation was so powerful, far beyond the isolated little village where he lived, that local people must have found it hard to believe that Cunning Murrell had gone at last. Indeed for years after his death they say a familiar small figure in an old blue frock coat and hard glazed black hat like sailors used to wear was sometimes seen as the light was fading, gathering herbs from the hedgerows and putting them in a frail basket hanging from the handle of a gingham umbrella.
Although the witchcraft laws were removed from the Statute Book in 1736, the fear of witches continued, particularly in remote country districts. The Victorian era was vastly different from that of the earlier witch-hunting years, yet fear and superstition were not very far away.
In 1863, in Sible Hedingham, which then consisted mainly of agricultural labourers, there lived an elderly deaf mute who was believed to be French. There were many rumours about his past – some said that his tongue had been cut out when he was a young man fighting for the French – but no one knew very much about him. He lived in a small mud hut on the outskirts of the village. Some referred to him as Dummy and he was a figure of curiosity, wearing very odd clothes and usually accompanied by a couple of dogs. As he was unable to speak, he communicated by signs, waving his arms about frantically. He seemed to scrape a living by fortune-telling.
On a warm August evening, the old man was enjoying a drink in the taproom of the Swan public house. Emma Smith, a young woman from the nearby village of Ridgewell who was married to a beerhouse keeper, was standing nearby. She suddenly started shouting at Dummy, complaining that she had been ill for many months and that her illness had been caused by the old man. She reckoned that he was a witch and had cast a spell on her. She begged him to remove the curse, even offering him gold sovereigns, but Dummy would not co-operate. The large drinking crowd loved the spectacle and were enjoying the fun.
At closing time, as Dummy was leaving the Swan, Emma Smith grabbed a stick and hit Dummy. She pushed the old man into the brook that ran alongside the pub. As he tried desperately to climb out from the opposite bank, Samuel Stammers, Emma Smith’s friend, rushed to the other side of the brook to cut off his exit. Smith and Stammers once again took hold of Dummy and pushed him back into the water. The mood of the bystanders, who had been encouraging the pair and throwing stones, began to change as they realised what was going on. One shouted, ‘If someone does not take the old man out, he will die in a moment.’ Stammers, perhaps coming to his senses, jumped into the brook and pulled Dummy from the water.
Dummy was taken home but was found next day in an appalling state, badly bruised and shocked. The police were called and Superintendent Thomas Elsey had the old man taken to Halstead Workhouse, where he died of pneumonia on 4 September. Smith and Stammers were charged with having ‘unlawfully assaulted an old Frenchman commonly called Dummy, thereby causing his death’.
On 8 March 1864, Smith and Stammers stood in the dock at the Essex Assize court in Chelmsford. Both were sentenced to six months’ hard labour. The court questioned whether Dummy was a witch. Inspector Martyn Lockwood from the Essex Police Museum has thoroughly researched the case:
Certainly he played on the superstitions of the local people. He was consulted by the local girls as a recognised authority on courtship and marriage; and when police searched his home they found numerous scraps of paper with various queries written on them. One such query read: ‘Her husband left her many years and she wants to know whether he is dead or alive.’ Even 130 years ago, in rural Essex the fear of witchcraft was a firmly held belief in the minds of country people.
Canewdon
Much has been written about George Pickingill (sometimes spelt Pickingale), who was referred to by locals as Old Picky. He was a farm labourer who lived in Canewdon, which a century ago was still believed to be at the heart of Essex sorcery. There was a local tradition that as long as the great tower of Canewdon church stood, there would be six witches in the village, ‘three in silk and three in cotton’, under the leadership of a Master of Witches, who must be a man. Writer Eric Maple described Pickingill as:
the last and perhaps greatest of the Essex wizards. He was a tall and unkempt man with very long fingernails and intense eyes. He was solitary and uncommunicative and practised openly as a cunning man, restoring lost property and curing warts and other minor ailments by muttered charms and mysterious passes.
Maple also felt there was a darker side to the old wizard. He was believed to be descended from the witches of Canewdon, and it was said that hares ate from his hand and that he possessed the power of the evil eye. Villagers were allegedly in fear and awe of his magical powers. If he wanted water drawn from the village pump, the local boys would run to do it because they believed he could make people ill just by looking at them. Maple claims that Pickingill wandered around the fields threatening to bewitch the farm machinery. The farmers bribed him with beer to stay away. However, when he chose to work, it was said that Pickingill could cut a whole field of corn in half an hour, using his imps and familiars to do the job while he sat in the hedge smoking his pipe.
When, in 1909, the old wizard lay dying, he made a promise to all those gathered around his bedside that he would finally prove his extraordinary power. As the funeral hearse drew up at the churchyard, the horse walked away from the shafts and galloped off down the road, much to the amazement of the mourners gathered at the lych-gate.
George Pickingill outside his cottage in Canewdon.
THREE
CALENDAR CUSTOMS
To everything there is a season and a time... Ecclesiastes 3:1–8
Essex has an unusually fascinating folklore heritage. Many of the traditions we celebrate throughout the year are linked to religious festivals and ceremonies. Others are perhaps a little more irreverent, rooted in our pagan past and linked to the history of the county, which has survived the onslaught of Roman, Saxon, Viking and Norman conquests.
Whether sacred or secular, certain of our customs and superstitions that have been passed down through generations may appear to be rather strange signposts to our county’s past. Some are ancient, others are relatively modern, initiated or revived for the tourist market. But it would be foolish to dismiss any of these traditions as irrelevant, for in time they will surely be absorbed into the annual cycle of our county folklore.
January
New Year
The passing of the old year and the birth of the new have great significance in Essex towns and villages, as in other parts of Britain. Celebrations for New Year’s Eve often continue into New Year’s Day without a break. In many parts of Essex, the chiming of church bells at midnight and the singing of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ are traditional ways of saying goodbye to the old year and welcoming the new – much the same as celebrations the world over.
Since the Millennium celebrations, it is now something of a tradition for some Essex folk to drive along the A12 to London to see in the New Year in Trafalgar Square. At the stroke of midnight comes the hooting of horns, singing and New Year greetings. Over the last few years, too, molly dancers from Essex have congregated in Trafalgar Square to dance the New Year in as part of their special way of celebrating. Many revellers join in the jigs. Some may prefer to welcome the New Year quietly at midnight church services or stay at home to celebrate with family and friends. Fortunately, since 1974, New Year’s Day has been a public holiday throughout the UK, giving people a chance to catch up on their sleep.
Although Essex is far distant from Scotland, many Scottish traditions are celebrated in the villages around Brentwood, Chelmsford and Colchester, particularly at New Year. This is a result of the influx of Scottish families to the area in the late Victorian period. They came to take over empty farms during the terrible agricultural depression which was caused by a combination of plummeting wheat prices, disastrous harvests and the importation of cheap corn from abroad. It left local farmers destitute and some sought work in the towns or in industry. More than 300 Scottish families settled
into farms in Essex from the 1880s until the 1930s.
One Scottish tradition is first-footing. When New Year’s Day arrives, the first-footer is welcomed to bring luck to a household. The custom calls for a tall, dark-haired man to cross the threshold immediately after the midnight chimes, bringing with him the symbolic gifts of a loaf of bread, a lump of coal and silver coins, to ensure that his hosts will have food, warmth and prosperity throughout the coming year. Entering in silence, he then wishes everyone present a Happy New Year, with a kiss for the ladies. Most importantly, he must leave by the back door. This is a Colchester version of a well-known first-footing rhyme:
I wish you a happy New Year
A pocketful of money, a cellar full of beer,
A good fat pig to last all year
So please give a gift for New Year.
Beginnings are important. Even non-superstitious folk regard the beginning of a New Year with a certain deference and 1 January is a key turning point in many people’s lives. Essex newspapers are full of information advising on New Year’s resolutions. This is now the day to start that new diet, a day for tidying up, a clean page in the diary on which, hopefully, splendid and happy things may yet be written. Divination rituals abounded in the old, more superstitious, days and even in this sophisticated world, good luck signs are sought.
In Essex newspapers and magazines, we now expect to see full horoscope predictions with upbeat speculation for the year ahead. Not since the Middle Ages has the 5,000-year-old craft of astrology been as popular as it is today. It derived its authority from complex mathematics and philosophical speculations appearing in the London and county almanacs and, until about 200 years ago, almost every king had at least one official astrologer, whose duty it was to study the heavens and keep his master informed of the future as foretold by the stars.
By the early twentieth century, astrology seemed to have almost disappeared from public view until it was revived by a press stunt at the time of the late Princess Margaret’s birth in August 1930. The Sunday Express commissioned an astrologer, R.N. Naylor, to draw up a birth chart for the royal baby and to compile a simple horoscope for those born around the same time. The public response was enormous and horoscopes became big business as newspaper circulation figures soared and newspapers all over the world began publishing regular columns of astrological predictions.
People enjoy themselves as much as they can at the year’s start, in the half-acknowledged but widely held belief that good luck at the beginning of the year ensures that good fortune will continue to its end. Every society seems to have its own rituals associated with New Year and it is a minefield of superstition in Essex, as in any other part of the country.
An old custom, collected from Colchester but doubtless not exclusive to the county, involves bowing to the new moon. Also, turning over silver coins in one’s pocket will ‘guarantee’ that they will double their value by the end of the month. If with friends, the first person to glimpse the new moon should kiss one of his or her companions without delay. A gift can then be expected. However, absolutely no good will come of looking at the moon through the branches of a tree or through glass.
Other New Year superstitions depend on the notion that whatever happens at this magical time sets the pattern for the rest of the year. An old Colchester belief is that it is unwise to welcome in the New Year with no food or drink in the cupboards – for they will remain bare over the ensuing twelve months. The same applies to money. It was believed that the fire should not be allowed to go out during this first night of the year, lest the hearth remain cold permanently. Wearing new clothes at the start of the year was also believed to summon good luck. To break anything on this day – particularly a mirror – was considered to be a bad omen.
In many Chelmsford families – as indeed probably countywide – the cry of ‘White Rabbits’ upon waking on the first morning of each month was thought to bring luck, especially so on 1 January. Some annoy friends and family with ‘A pinch and a punch on this first day of the month – and no return!’ but this operates only until noon.
An interesting old January custom from Maldon was the presentation of a gift of wildfowl and oysters to the King’s Vice-Admiral of Essex. This event is included in the autobiography of Sir John Branston in 1688, but whether it was an act of prudent diplomacy or an offering meant to ensure a bountiful harvest in the coming year is unknown.
The Mad Maldon Mud Race is a tradition that originated on New Year’s Day in the early 1970s and has grown in popularity over the years. It started as a youthful dare made at the Queen’s Head pub, which stands on the Hythe quay. The challenge to the young men was to serve a meal on the saltings of the river Blackwater while dressed in full evening dress. The challenge was accepted and carried out. The following year, from a bar on Maldon saltings, around twenty people made a ‘mad dash’ across the river bed, drank a pint of beer and then returned, and this was the beginning of the annual Maldon Mud Race, which has turned into an annual sponsored event in which competitors can choose their own charity for half the money they raise. The other half is donated to local community charities picked by the Maldon Lions and Rotary Clubs. In 2005, more than 7,000 spectators, many from around the world, packed the promenade at Maldon to watch 180 competitors – dressed as waiters, clowns, nurses and a fully robed vicar – brave the 400-yard course, which was completed in around three minutes.
Maldon Mud Race, January 2005
Maldon Mud Race, January 2005
Epiphany
The last feast of the Twelve Days of Christmas is Epiphany, celebrated on 6 January. This is an important date on the Christian calendar, which commemorates the coming of the Magi. For the less religious, Epiphany is the traditional time to hoist the poor old Christmas tree out into the cold garden, throw away the tinsel, pack up the tangle of tree lights, remove the dusty cards and scrape the children’s snowy stencils from the windows.
Plough Monday
‘Speed the plough’ is an old tradition that once took place regularly on the Monday after Twelfth Night, when farm workers began the working year and the winter ploughing started. A corn dolly, fashioned from the last stalks of the previous harvest, was laid in the first furrow and ploughed into the earth. This was done so that the corn goddess, whose spirit was believed to reside in the corn dolly, would look kindly on the farmers and ensure that the forthcoming harvest would be bountiful.
A plough was pulled around the village by local farm boys, with a view to collecting tips or ‘largesse’ from the farmers and gentry who employed them. It was wise to contribute even a few coins, as those who did not might find their front gardens ploughed up in retribution. Traditionally, the money would have been spent on beer in the village alehouse. In North Essex, the plough was usually painted white and kept in the local church. For this reason, the tradition became known as the White Plough.
The Molly Gang from Good Easter village are a familiar and popular group from the Rodings area, near Chelmsford. They revived the Plough Monday tradition in their area in 1980 and each year tour a different route, visiting local schools and, of course, a selection of pubs in the area. In Billericay, the custom has recently been revived by the Mayflower Morrismen, who, on the Saturday nearest Plough Monday, dance near the ancient Red Lion pub in the High Street, accompanied by an old plough borrowed from the famous Barleylands Farm Museum.
A typical Essex corn dolly.
Plough Monday – with a plough in the foreground.
Jeanette Peaty and Bob Dobney celebrate Burns Night in Essex.
Burns Night
Because of the large Scottish contingent in Essex, Burns Night festivities, celebrating the birthday of poet Robert Burns, are held in many towns and villages on 25 January.
February
Candlemas Day
This Christian festival was once regularly celebrated on 2 February. It commemorates the Purification (churching) of the Virgin Mary forty days after the birth of Jesus. Until the 1960s, mo
thers in many East London and Essex hospitals were asked if they would like to take part in the churching or Thanksgiving service in the hospital chapel as soon as they were able to do so, even if they were not regular churchgoers. Often they carried lighted candles on their way into the chapel.
The Essex agricultural and pastoral calendar still recognises Candlemas and at least one old gardener from Thorpe-le-Soken remembers the traditional rhyme:
If Candlemas Day be fair and bright,
Winter will have another flight.
If Candlemas Day be clouds and rain,
Winter be gone and will not come again.
At one time, the Christmas season did not officially end until Candlemas, and decorative evergreen branches were left in place until the eve of this festival, when superstition insisted that every trace of them be removed. Although not an Essex man, Robert Herrick’s poetry reinforces some of our county traditions and reminds us of the fusion of pagan and Christmas customs, as in his poem ‘Ceremony upon Candlemas Eve’:
Down with the rosemary, and so
Down with the bays and mistletoe;
Down with the holly, ivy, all
Wherewith ye dress’d the Christmas hall;
That so the superstitious find
No one least branch there left behind;
For look, how many leaves there be
Neglected there, maids, trust to me,
So many goblins you shall see.
St Valentine’s Day
Beloved by greetings card manufacturers and florists, this festival, celebrated on 14 February, grows more popular by the year, receiving enormous attention from the media. Essex youth celebrates this day along with other romantics of the world. St Valentine’s Day cards were introduced during the eighteenth century and are now sent in their millions, even more so since the advent of the Internet. Dances are traditionally held on St Valentine’s Day and nowadays there are also the recently introduced – but much less romantic – speed-dating parties, where people are given the opportunity of meeting potential lovers in three-minute sessions, with a view to lasting love.