Part 48 (1/2)
”I cannot say I have,” replied Holden, rather abashed, ”but I shall henceforth adopt a very different course.-Ah! here comes the ale!” he added, taking the foaming tankard from Bess; ”this is the best cordial wherewith to sustain one's courage in these trying times.”
”Some remedy must be found for this intolerable grievance,” observed Roger Nowell, after a few moments' reflection. ”Till this morning I was not aware of the extent of the evil, but supposed that the two malignant hags, who seem to reign supreme here, confined their operations to blighting corn, maiming cattle, turning milk sour; and even these reports I fancied were greatly exaggerated; but I now find, from what I have seen at Sabden and elsewhere, that they fall very far short of the reality.”
”It would be difficult to increase the darkness of the picture,” said the chirurgeon; ”but what remedy will you apply?”
”The cautery, sir,” replied Potts,-”the actual cautery-we will burn out this plague-spot. The two old hags and their noxious brood shall be brought to the stake. That will effect a radical cure.”
”It may when it is accomplished, but I fear it will be long ere that happens,” replied the chirurgeon, shaking his head doubtfully. ”Are you acquainted with Mother Demdike's history, sir?” he added to Potts.
”In part,” replied the attorney; ”but I shall be glad to hear any thing you may have to bring forward on the subject.”
”The peculiarity in her case,” observed Sudall, ”and the circ.u.mstance distinguis.h.i.+ng her dark and dread career from that of all other witches is, that it has been shaped out by destiny. When an infant, a malediction was p.r.o.nounced upon her head by the unfortunate Abbot Paslew. She is also the offspring of a man reputed to have bartered his soul to the Enemy of Mankind, while her mother was a witch. Both parents perished lamentably, about the time of Paslew's execution at Whalley.”
”It is a pity their miserable infant did not perish with them,” observed Holden. ”How much crime and misery would have been spared!”
”It was otherwise ordained,” replied Sudall. ”Bereft of her parents in this way, the infant was taken charge of and reared by Dame Croft, the miller's wife of Whalley; but even in those early days she exhibited such a malicious and vindictive disposition, and became so unmanageable, that the good dame was glad to get rid of her, and sent her into the forest, where she found a home at Rough Lee, then occupied by Miles Nutter, the grandfather of the late Richard Nutter.”
”Aha!” exclaimed Potts, ”was Mother Demdike so early connected with that family? I must make a note of that circ.u.mstance.”
”She remained at Rough Lee for some years,” returned Sudall, ”and though accounted of an ill disposition, there was nothing to be alleged against her at the time; though afterwards, it was said, that some mishaps that befell the neighbours were owing to her agency, and that she was always attended by a familiar in the form of a rat or a mole. Whether this were so or not, I cannot say; but it is certain that she helped Miles Nutter to get rid of his wife, and procured him a second spouse, in return for which services he bestowed upon her an old ruined tower on his domains.”
”You mean Malkin Tower?” said Nicholas.
”Ay, Malkin Tower,” replied the chirurgeon. ”There is a legend connected with that structure, which I will relate to you anon, if you desire it. But to proceed. Scarcely had Bess Demdike taken up her abode in this lone tower, than it began to be rumoured that she was a witch, and attended sabbaths on the summit of Pendle Hill, and on Rimington Moor. Few would consort with her, and ill-luck invariably attended those with whom she quarrelled. Though of hideous and forbidding aspect, and with one eye lower set than the other, she had subtlety enough to induce a young man named Sothernes to marry her, and two children, a son and a daughter, were the fruit of the union.”
”The daughter I have seen at Whalley,” observed Potts; ”but I have never encountered the son.”
”Christopher Demdike still lives, I believe,” replied the chirurgeon, ”though what has become of him I know not, for he has quitted these parts. He is as ill-reputed as his mother, and has the same strange and fearful look about the eyes.”
”I shall recognise him if I see him,” observed Potts.
”You are scarcely likely to meet him,” returned Sudall, ”for, as I have said, he has left the forest. But to return to my story. The marriage state was little suitable to Bess Demdike, and in five years she contrived to free herself from her husband's restraint, and ruled alone in the tower. Her malignant influence now began to be felt throughout the whole district, and by dint of menaces and positive acts of mischief, she extorted all she required. Whosoever refused her requests speedily experienced her resentment. When she was in the fulness of her power, a rival sprang up in the person of Anne Whittle, since known by the name of Chattox, which she obtained in marriage, and this woman disputed Bess Demdike's supremacy. Each strove to injure the adherents of her rival-and terrible was the mischief they wrought. In the end, however, Mother Demdike got the upper hand. Years have flown over the old hag's head, and her guilty career has been hitherto attended with impunity. Plans have been formed to bring her to justice, but they have ever failed. And so in the case of old Chattox. Her career has been as baneful and as successful as that of Mother Demdike.”
”But their course is wellnigh run,” said Potts, ”and the time is come for the extirpation of the old serpents.”
”Ah! who is that at the window?” cried Sudall; ”but that you are sitting near me, I should declare you were looking in at us.”
”It must be Master Potts's brother, the reeve of the forest,” observed Nicholas, with a laugh.
”Heed him not,” cried the attorney, angrily, ”but let us have the promised legend of Malkin Tower.”
”Willingly!” replied the chirurgeon. ”But before I begin I must recruit myself with a can of ale.”
The flagon being set before him, Sudall commenced his story:
The Legend of Malkin Tower.
”On the brow of a high hill forming part of the range of Pendle, and commanding an extensive view over the forest, and the wild and mountainous region around it, stands a stern solitary tower. Old as the Anglo-Saxons, and built as a stronghold by Wulstan, a Northumbrian thane, in the time of Edmund or Edred, it is circular in form and very lofty, and serves as a landmark to the country round. Placed high up in the building the door was formerly reached by a steep flight of stone steps, but these were removed some fifty or sixty years ago by Mother Demdike, and a ladder capable of being raised or let down at pleasure subst.i.tuted for them, affording the only apparent means of entrance. The tower is otherwise inaccessible, the walls being of immense thickness, with no window lower than five-and-twenty feet from the ground, though it is thought there must be a secret outlet; for the old witch, when she wants to come forth, does not wait for the ladder to be let down. But this may be otherwise explained. Internally there are three floors, the lowest being placed on a level with the door, and this is the apartment chiefly occupied by the hag. In the centre of this room is a trapdoor opening upon a deep vault, which forms the bas.e.m.e.nt story of the structure, and which was once used as a dungeon, but is now tenanted, it is said, by a fiend, who can be summoned by the witch on stamping her foot. Round the room runs a gallery contrived in the thickness of the walls, while the upper chambers are gained by a secret staircase, and closed by movable stones, the machinery of which is only known to the inmate of the tower. All the rooms are lighted by narrow loopholes. Thus you will see that the fortress is still capable of sustaining a siege, and old Demdike has been heard to declare that she would hold it for a month against a hundred men. Hitherto it has proved impregnable.
”On the Norman invasion, Malkin Tower was held by Ughtred, a descendant of Wulstan, who kept possession of Pendle Forest and the hills around it, and successfully resisted the aggressions of the conquerors. His enemies affirmed he was a.s.sisted by a demon, whom he had propitiated by some fearful sacrifice made in the tower, and the notion seemed borne out by the success uniformly attending his conflicts. Ughtred's prowess was stained by cruelty and rapine. Merciless in the treatment of his captives, putting them to death by horrible tortures, or immuring them in the dark and noisome dungeon of his tower, he would hold his revels over their heads, and deride their groans. Heaps of treasure, obtained by pillage, were secured by him in the tower. From his frequent acts of treachery, and the many foul murders he perpetrated, Ughtred was styled the 'Scourge of the Normans.' For a long period he enjoyed complete immunity from punishment; but after the siege of York, and the defeat of the insurgents, his destruction was vowed by Ilbert de Lacy, lord of Blackburns.h.i.+re, and this fierce chieftain set fire to part of the forest in which the Saxon thane and his followers were concealed; drove them to Malkin Tower; took it after an obstinate and prolonged defence, and considerable loss to himself, and put them all to the sword, except the leader, whom he hanged from the top of his own fortress. In the dungeon were found many carca.s.ses, and the greater part of Ughtred's treasure served to enrich the victor.