Witches and the Devil in Early Modern Visual Cultures: Constructions of the Demonic Other

Abstract

Throughout the early modern period, many Europeans believed in the reality of witchcraft. Those accused of being diabolic witches were thought to have signed a pact with Satan, to worship him, attend Sabbaths, and devise ways to harm humans through maleficia. Witches functioned as an inversion of Christian society, whereby they and their actions were emphasized as being ‘other’, while simultaneously reinforcing the societal norms they revoked. This article investigates representations of devils and witches, and the visual renderings of witchcraft belief, all of which helped construct their otherness. The paper will explore depictions of witches in early modern visual cultures by examining sixteenth- and seventeenth-century fine art, engravings, and woodcuts.

Keywords: Early Modern, witchcraft, supernatural, art, visual cultures, print, gender

Author Biography

Scott Eaton is an independent scholar who is currently researching the history of tea for the social heritage project You, Me and Tea. His research interests include early modern witchcraft, religion, gender, art, and print cultures. Scott’s monograph on a seventeenth-century witch-finder John Stearne’s Confirmation and Discovery of Witchcraft: text, context and afterlife was published by Routledge last year. 

 

Witches and the Devil in Early Modern Visual Cultures: Constructions of the Demonic Other

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Throughout the Early Modern period, an estimated 90,000 people were prosecuted for witchcraft in Europe, about 50,000 of whom were executed.[1] In many witchcraft narratives and confessions, the Devil played a major role as he was believed to form a pact with witches, giving them powers in return for their soul. At the witches’ sabbath, the Devil was purported to be the figurehead, where witches allegedly gathered to have sex with and to worship him. The intrinsic connection between belief in the Devil, heresy, magic and witches led to the construction of the diabolic witch.[2] By absorbing and developing witch-theory in Europe, art became a way of engaging with these ideas and circulating them more widely.

This article explores the depictions of witches and devils in Early Modern European visual cultures, which helped to construct an image of witches as the ‘other’, as the enemy within.

It discusses art concerning witches’ sabbaths, milk and weather magic, maleficia, the sexual threat of witches and English woodcuts which conveyed the otherness of the witch’s body and familiar spirits. The commonality of the visuals chosen are their depictions of the demonic as an inversion of society and pervasive threat to Christendom.

 

 Visuals of the dairy-witch and Tempestarii

A fear concerning witchcraft was the impact that magic could have on the economy and targeted individuals. Early modern Europe was mostly comprised of agrarian communities where crops, livestock and dairy were very valuable commodities – disruption to these could spell disaster for the owner. Illustrations of dairy-stealing witches emerged in woodcuts such as those accompanying the 1486 edition of Hans Vintler’s Buch der Tugend (originally written in 1411 and modelled on an early fourteenth-century tract, Tommaso’s Fiori di Virtù) and Johann Geiler’s Die Emeis (1517) (Fig. 1). These images were also depicted on wall paintings, such as those by Albertus Pictor (c.1490) in Söderby-Karl, Uppland, Sweden, or the murals in Vejlby kirke, Århus (1492), and Tuse kirke in Holbæk (c.1460), Denmark.[3] Below, the image of dairy-stealing (Fig. 1) shows the witch using axe magic to pilfer milk from the cow, into her pail – hence the emaciated cow in the background. The witch is syphoning the milk to profit, while the victim and their livestock suffer directly from the effects of the magic, and indirectly from its economic impact. Demonic elements are also visible in the image’s iconography, from the gathering storm of destruction, the smoking cauldron and the group of three female witches gathered to help enact the magic. In a fairly benign looking village scene, the image depicts fears surrounding dairy produce – namely that it can inexplicably spoil or disappear because of demonic witches’ direct meddling.

Figure 1: Witch Stealing Milk from a Neighbour’s Cow. Wellcome Collection, CC BY.

A more sinister ‘cumulative concept of witchcraft’ and demonology began to form in the 1400s, culminating at the end of the century. To many of the elite, demons were no longer considered to be external enemies that could be easily be defeated through trickery, magic or piety, but were extremely powerful supernatural agents that invaded every part of daily life.[4] Some medieval scholars believed that demons and Satan could take human and animal form, make pacts with humans, influence thoughts and emotions, have sexual intercourse with humans and even produce offspring.[5] These beliefs helped inform and create early modern art depicting the demonic and the witch as the enemy.

Part of the vast repertoire of magic attributed to witches was weather magic. In visual cultures Tempestarii were portrayed as the enemy of society by causing terrible weather which could cause damage to or devastate crops, destroy buildings and ships. Ulrich Molitor’s popular text, De Lamiis et Pythonicis Mulieribus (1489), the first illustrated witchcraft treatise, showed witches creating weather magic. In a woodcut two witches stand beside a flaming cauldron into which they cast a serpent and a rooster as sacrifices to enact the weather magic, as depicted by the clouds overhead (Fig. 4). The image was simplistic but influential in forming the iconography of witchcraft, especially for Tempestarii. Pieter Bruegel the Elder imitated these concepts and deployed them in a much more intricate manner. His engraving, St James and the Magician Hermogenes (1565) (Fig. 2) depicts a cognate scene, while including evidence of ritualistic sorcery, and crafting his demons and strange hybrids in the style of Hieronymus Bosch.[6] Bruegel’s engraving, loosely based off ‘The Golden Legend’, is loaded with demonic iconography. In the underground chamber of the image, demons are about to dismember a man, overseen by the Devil, and in the middle of the image we can see a witch reading a grimoire and shaking a sieve to divine or enact weather magic. She is aided by the other boiling cauldrons and flying witches scattered throughout the picture. Following the line of clouds, in the top right a witch riding a goat is amidst of the storm which has caused ships to sink and a church steeple to collapse, and, to the left, we see the outline of livestock being killed by the weather. The visuals clearly show demons and witches using weather magic to target and destroy individuals, even to level church buildings, representing witches as an enemy of Christendom.

Figure 2: After Pieter Bruegel the Elder, St. James and the Magician Hermogenes (1565). Public domain.

Jacques de Gheyn II’s Preparation for the Witches’ Sabbath (c.1610) (Fig. 3) also uses the motif of the witch with a cauldron to produce huge plumes of smoke which texture the engraving’s background. Demons and witches abound in the engraving: at the bottom of the image three witches are gathered around a vase with a grimoire to create a potion, while the witches to the right open a cauldron, unleashing the clouds and smoke which envelope the sky. The square topped volcano that is violently erupting serves to remind viewers of the natural, destructive powers that witches command, such as their purported ability to control weather – as evidenced by the witches preparing to hurl thunderbolts from the storm clouds.[7] In the background we can see a further indication of this, as a man and his livestock are crossing a river on a raft and an outline of a city is depicted – both of these are likely to be the target of the diabolic witchery presented in the foreground. The Witches’ Sabbath is thus showing demonic forces preparing to lay siege to the Christian settlement, again locating witches as an enemy.

Figure 3: Designed by Jacques de Gheyn II, Preparation for the Witches’ Sabbath (c.1610). Public domain.

In a similar vein, Jan van de Velde II’s Heks/Sorceress (1626) positions witchcraft on the outskirts of the mundane, taking place under the cover of night. The engraving shows the witch throwing a powder into the cauldron for a magic ritual (signified by the circle, grimoire and skull), the smoke and fire belching out from the force of the wind produced and melding with the rest of the engraving. In front of the sorceress are an array of strange demons, perhaps signifying sins and vices.[8] Crucially, in the bottom right of the image we can see a house either belonging to the witch or a villager, locating witchcraft in the domestic sphere and emphasising the threat on daily life that demonic witchcraft posed.[9]

Witches, demons, nudity, death, and weather magic are the familiar themes depicted in the art explored. The civilians in the background of the visuals remind viewers of the close proximity and the imminent threat of witchcraft to ordinary Christians.

 

Witches, power and sexuality

The concept of diabolic witchcraft gave impetus to its artistic depictions in woodcuts, engravings and paintings, visually showing the sexual threat of witchcraft, which evolved with other themes such as Tempestarii. Simplistic woodcuts in Ulrich Molitor’s De Lamiis (1489) (Fig. 4) showed key witchcraft iconography, representing it as a threat, and including themes like weather magic, witches flying on pitchforks, and a woman embracing a bestial devil. The latter positioned devils as hybrid creatures, depicting their bestiality and immorality, and as a threat to monogamy since the woman’s head covering in the image indicates that she has married.[10] Civilisation is again represented in the background, at the very top of the woodcut.

Figure 4: Ulrich Molitor, De lamiis et pythonicis mulieribus (1489). Public domain.

In early modern intellectual thought, women were considered ‘the weaker vessel’ and men were believed to have a divinely sanctioned rule over them. Men were to fulfil this commandment by governing women through marriage and by ruling their households, as advised in conduct books such as William Gouge’s popular Of Domesticall Duties (1622).[11] As illustrated through Molitor, Devils could prey on women luring them to adultery, disorder and witchcraft, therefore threatening to destabilise the very nucleus of social order – the household.

But women were not helpless: witches could tempt men through magic and the sexuality of their bodies, as witches were thought to be lustful and woman to have sexual capital. For example, Hans Baldung Grien’s painting The Weather Witches (1523) (Fig. 5) combines the sexual element of witches with Tempestarii to identify the naked female bodies as a source of disorder. The swelling clouds indicate the witches’ power and destruction and their windswept hair signifies the lust of the women, as does the witch’s crossed-legged stance – a visual sign of immorality. In the lower tier of the image we see a shrouded goat symbolising the Devil and sexuality, and a small demon is trapped in the flask (stopped by the fruit of original sin) held by the woman on the right.[12] As Charles Zika noted, the iconography, the strong assertive poses of these women and the eroticism of their bodies, convey the centrality of sexual desire and seduction to this image of witchcraft.[13] It shows that witchcraft was demonic in origin but also had power from the sexuality of women, which gave the ‘weaker sex’ power over men.

Figure 5: Hans Baldung Grien, The Weather Witches (1523). Public domain.

Albrecht Dürer was another artist who encoded these concepts of demonic witchcraft in art, helping solidify the sexualised witch-figure. His engraving The Four Witches (1497) (Fig. 6) makes witches more inconspicuous, locating them within society and thus more threatening. The image shows four young, naked women standing together in a room, possibly a bathhouse. At first glance it may seem unassuming but Dürer included cues for his audience to render its diabolic meaning unmistakable: a sinister aspect is added by the inclusion of the Devil emerging from the flames of hell in the bottom left of the image, and the skull and bones on the floor. The rather cryptic letters ‘O.G.H’ written in a sphere above the witches’ heads could mean ‘O Gotte hüte’(Oh God protect us [from the witches]). Additionally, the nudity of the women functioned as a contemporary cultural cipher of witchcraft as a sexual transgression. The positioning of their hands indicates sexual intimacy with each other, while the witches’ beauty, body and desirability represent a threat to the viewer, to men, and the moral and social order. In the image, the women are empowered as witches, giving them magical influence over men and nature, but the image reasserts male authority, by constructing an invisible prison positioning the witches between the demon’s gaze from behind and the male viewer’s gaze from the front. Dürer places male viewers on the precipice of discovering the clandestine witches, just as the demon appears and male authority is challenged.[14] Dürer’s chiaroscuro woodcut, Witches’ Sabbath (1510) conveys similar messages, showing the motif of a young woman astride a goat at the top of the woodcut, symbolising lust, and also parodying the male pastime of horse riding. The bottom half of the image portrays hag-like witches literally cooking up devilry, including weather magic and a demonic ritual. The sexual element so common in witchcraft iconography is primarily evidenced here through the witches’ nudity and the phallic imagery on the left of the woodcut – witches have reclaimed gender power by stealing penises and dangling them over a wooden stick – thus showing how witches threatened Christianity, gender and established order.[15]

Figure 6: Albrecht Dürer, Four Witches (1497). Public domain.

In early modernity, it was believed that diabolic witchcraft was a complete inversion of established social norms. Women would eschew God, attend Sabbaths to worship the Devil, take part in infanticide and orgies and plan direct acts of maleficia, weather magic or the bewitching of men. The actions, sexual capital and demonic allegiance of witches illustrated the debilitating effects diabolism could have on Christian society.[16] Some images in this paper showed the witches brewing malefic magic just outside of normal society, on the peripheries, while some show that the witches were the ‘other’, infiltrating society and therefore a serious threat operating from within.

 

Enemy Within: English Witchcraft Pamphlets

The close proximity, and threat, of witches can be shown through the visual cultures of English witchcraft pamphlets, as they described actors in localised trials. These witches were also thought to have created a pact with the devil, carried out maleficia and had familiars, all while living amongst ordinary people and subverting norms. Visually, in woodcuts this ‘enemy within’ was often portrayed as an old dishevelled woman, an evil hag with wrinkled skin, a long nose, a facial protrusion, and a cat for a pet – much like our witch stereotype. In early modern print cultures, image and text suggested that the deformed exterior of the witch’s body was a mirror for the twisted interior of the mind. In this sense, the body was rendered as a readable text that betrayed the inner thoughts and behaviours of the individual, painting her as the enemy.[17] This practice of evaluating an individual’s inner condition based on their outer appearance, stemmed from a long tradition of physiognomy, ‘the study of the features of the face, or of the form of the body generally, as being supposedly indicative of character; the art of judging character from such study’.[18] This is more tangible if we examine some witches portrayed in English witchcraft pamphlets. In 1645 Elizabeth Clarke was depicted as a one-legged elderly widow and Joan Flower, in 1619, was portrayed as an old spinster, partially disabled and ‘full of wrath’.[19] A Northampton witch was labelled as ‘monstrous and hideous’ in her appearance and, likewise, in 1613, Elizabeth Device was described as an ‘odious witch…her left eye, standing lower than the other…so strangely deformed’, who outrageously cursed ‘according to her accustomed manner’. Thomas Potts commented that for women with these attributes, their fates were often sealed in court for ‘the wrinkles of an old wives face is good evidence to a jurie against a witch’.[20]  The descriptions match the visual depictions of the alleged witches, and this may have had basis in reality, affecting the lived experience of the women: Elizabeth Clarke’s appearance and lameness were symptomatic of her dealings with devils and witchcraft, while Joan Flower’s and Elizabeth Device’s aesthetics and demeanour signified the sinfulness of their souls (Fig. 7). Their exterior appearance could be corroborative evidence of their sins and demonic pact with the Devil. Indeed, Egeon Askew questioned in 1605 that if their ‘outward face is so deformed…How much more within the breast lies there a more terrible countenance, a more cruell aspect, a more ugly spirit, and a more deformed face?’.[21] The connection between the aesthetics of a person and their mental or spiritual condition was not idiosyncratic in early modern England, but was an element of popular culture which upheld the stereotypical witch-figure as a conceptually potent enemy.

Figure 7: Anon., Wonderful Discoverie of the Witchcrafts of Margaret and Phillip Flower (London, 1619). Public domain.

Additional visual indications of witches’ otherness in woodcuts were their close relationships with their familiars (Fig. 8). These were personal demons who lived with the witch and enacted her harmful magic and were commonly deformed. References to these creatures were prevalent in English witchcraft literature. Taking Clarke again as an example, she confessed to having a sexual relationship with the Devil and of having familiars, which assumed the role of surrogate children. Indeed, some alleged witches specifically called their familiars their children and they took child-like forms: Elizabeth Hubbard said ‘three things came to her in the likeness of Children, which asked her whispering to deny God, Christ, and all his workes’, and Alice Wright confessed to having two familiars in the shape of boys, one of which ‘spoke to her with a great whorce voyce, as if he had been griev’d’.[22] It was believed that familiars suckled blood from supernumerary teats on the witch’s body (resembling a nipple, mole, pimple, wart or keloid) in order to renew the diabolic pact, the body thus marred by a demonic protuberance. Charlotte-Rose Millar has argued that these women conceptualised familiars as surrogate children because they wanted dependent children yet could not have any.[23] As a result, feeding demonic child-like familiars blood, rather than milk, styled the witch as an anti-mother: the dynamic was an inversion of breast feeding and a parody of English society’s ideal of the ‘good mother’ figure –  a pious woman who was a good wife, mother and manager of her nuclear family within a patriarchy-based household.[24] The witch-figure symbolised the harmful, selfish anti-mother in league with the Devil, a neighbour who was sustaining and nurturing demons within the household and local parish – a dangerous enemy within.[25]

Another conceptual layer within the demonic witch-familiar dynamic was the deformity of the animal familiar akin to the ugliness and crookedness of the stereotypical witch, both aesthetics visually signifying evil. It was posited that demonic spirits could not mirror God’s perfect creation hence their deformity, as seen through the hybridity of the animal familiars in the woodcuts of printed pamphlets. Despite this, by interacting with and attacking humans, animal-familiars were able to subvert God’s natural order. Early modernity inherited the medieval concept of the Great Chain of Being, which stated that God’s law, as recorded in Genesis 1.28, gave humans control over the animal kingdom and placed animals on a lower level of creation.[26] By using animal familiars to harm humans, witches helped to directly breach God’s natural order and destabilise society. The dynamic between witches and animal familiars also signified the corruption of the witch’s soul, much like the witch’s body. Familiars fed from witches and were the conduits through which magic was enacted at the witch’s behest: these deformed creatures were therefore an extension of the witch and represented her sinful thoughts and desires, to kill and harm.[27] With the stereotypical English witch-figure, her outward appearance corresponded to the twisted interior of her mind, which was mirrored and reflected by the deformed animal familiars enacting the witch’s own thoughts and desires.

The stereotypical depiction of an aged widow or spinster who sustained familiar spirits was construed as an anti-mother figure, which sustained demons with blood outside of wedlock, instead of breastfeeding and caring for a child within a nuclear family and patriarchy-based household. A lustful woman living independently was seen as inherently disorderly; moreover, the witch was nourishing demons and causing harm to locals though magic, all while operating outside of male supervision. The witch and familiars symbolised an inverted family and natural order, and her appearance confirmed the demonic nature of the witch. The idea of witchcraft made the authorities anxious as witches operated outside of the systems which maintained social order, namely patriarchy, the household, marriage, and the Church.[28] This visual construction of the archetypical witch positioned her in opposition to traditional societal norms and ideas of aesthetics, rendering the witch as a localised icon of evil and as a cipher for numerous cultural concerns in the early modern period.

Figure 8: Matthew Hopkins, The discovery of witches (London, 1647). Public domain.

 

Conclusion

Throughout the early modern period, European visual cultures echoed contemporary concerns about witches and devils, whether in fine art or print. Witches’ relationship with the demonic, their harmful magic, and sexuality endangered established social norms. Witches’ actions and aesthetics portrayed in the selected European visuals construed them as an inversion of conventional social, moral, gender and natural order, and as a dangerous enemy threatening society. Visual constructions of witch- and devil-figures were fluid and reflected contemporary cultural concerns, and highlighted the witch’s ability to subvert and challenge various aspects of order. Above all, the threat demonic forces posed to Christendom was emphasised, witches being visually portrayed as a dangerous enemy within and as the demonic other.

 

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Notes

[1] This article is based on a paper given at the conference Enemies in the Early Modern World 1453-1789: Conflict, Culture and Control, University of Edinburgh, March 2021.

[2] B. Levack, The Witch-Hunt in Early Modern Europe (3rd edn, Harlow, 2006), pp. 8-10; J. Sharpe, Instruments of Darkness: Witchcraft in Early Modern England (Philadelphia, 1997).

[3] C. Zika, The Appearance of Witchcraft: Print and Visual Culture in Sixteenth-Century Europe (London, 2007), pp. 42-51, 242; National Museum of Denmark, Copenhagen, “Vejlby Kirke, Risskov, Århus Amt” (1976), 1466, 1490, accessed April 10, 2021, http://danmarkskirker.natmus.dk/aarhus/vejlby-kirke/; S. Mitchell, Witchcraft and Magic in the Nordic Middle Ages (Philadelphia, 2011), pp. 138-40, 182-3. Remarkably, Mitchell notes that there are approximately sixty churches with extant murals depicting the dairy stealing witch in northern Europe: forty in Sweden, four in Finland, sixteen in Denmark and three in northern Germany (p. 140).

[4] Levack, The Witch-Hunt, pp. 30-73; N. Cohn, Europe’s Inner Demons: the Demonization of Christians in Medieval Christendom (2nd edn, London, 1993), pp. 17-34; R. Muchembled, A History of the Devil From the Middle Ages to the Present (Cornwall, 2003), pp. 9-34; also see, C. Saunders, Magic and the Supernatural in Medieval English Romances (Cambridge, 2010), pp. 59-86.

[5] Muchembled, A History of the Devil, pp. 9-34, 108-11; V. Carr, ‘The Witch’s Animal Familiar in Early Modern Southern England’ (PhD diss, University of Bristol, 2017), p. 79; J. Russell, Witchcraft in the Middle Ages (London,1972), pp. 187-8.

[6] D. Petherbridge, Witches & Wicked Bodies (Edinburgh, 2018), p. 43; Zika, The Appearance of Witchcraft, pp. 162-73.

[7] Petherbridge, Witches & Wicked Bodies, pp. 58-9; C. Swan, ‘The “Preparation for the Sabbath” by Jacques De Gheyn II: The Issue of Inversion’, Print Quarterly, 16, no. 4 (1999), pp. 327-339. Linda Hults noted that de Gheyn was a Dutch ‘scientist’ and artist, and that his engravings rendered witchcraft as an ‘inversion of true science’; L. Hults, The Witch as Muse: Art, Gender, and Power in Early Modern Europe (Philadelphia, 2005), pp. 160-3; Davidson argues that de Gheyn was obviously very familiar with the literature of witchcraft, especially Reginald Scot’s publication, but that his personal beliefs about the topic remain obscure; J. Davidson, The Witch in Northern European Art, 1470-1750 (Freren, 1987), pp. 57-64.

[8] Petherbridge, Witches & Wicked Bodies, p.108.

[9] For witchcraft and the domestic sphere see; L. Roper, Oedipus and the Devil: Witchcraft, Sexuality and Religion in Early Modern Europe (London, 1994, reprinted 2005), pp. 200-27; D. Willis, Malevolent Nurture: Witch-Hunting and Maternal Power in Early Modern England (Ithaca, 1995); J. Durrant, Witchcraft, Gender and Society in Early Modern Germany (Leiden, 2009), pp. 197-8, 251-4; D. Purkiss, The Witch in History: Early Modern and Twentieth-Century Representations (London, 1996, reprinted 2005); F. Dolan, Dangerous Familiars: Representations of Domestic Crime in England, 1500–1700 (London, 1994), pp. 169-236.

[10] Davidson, The Witch, pp. 16-7; Zika, The Appearance of Witchcraft, pp. 17-27.

[11] J. Eales, Women in Early Modern England, 1500–1700 (London, 1998), p. 4; N. Z. Davis, Society and Culture in Early Modern France (Stanford, 1975), pp. 126–8; A. Fraser, The Weaker Vessel: Women’s Lot in Seventeenth-Century England (London, 1985), pp. 1–6; J. Stearne, A Confirmation and Discovery of Witchcraft (London, 1648), p. 11; R. Bernard, A Guide to Grand-Jury Men (London, 1627), pp. 87–90; James VI and I, Daemonologie (Edinburgh, 1597), p. 44; W. Gouge, Of Domesticall Duties (London, 1622).

[12] Hults, The Witch, pp. 98-9; Zika, The Appearance of Witchcraft, pp. 84-5. In learned circles it was thought that witches could not influence weather themselves, but only through the aid of a demon and God’s permission – the demon in the flask reflects this idea; Davidson, The Witch, pp. 25-6.

[13] Zika, The Appearance of Witchcraft, pp. 84-5.

[14] Petherbridge, Witches & Wicked Bodies, p. 22; Zika, The Appearance of Witchcraft, p. 87; Davidson, The Witch, p. 18; Hults, The Witch, pp. 64-73. For an alternative reading see, M. Sullivan, ‘The Witches of Dürer and Hans Baldung Grien’, Renaissance Quarterly, 53, no. 2 (2000), pp. 333-401.

[15] Davidson, The Witch, pp. 20-6; Petherbridge, Witches & Wicked Bodies, pp. 30, 44; Holts, The Witch, p. 85.

[16] N. Kwan, ‘Woodcuts and Witches: Ulrich Molitor’s “De lamiis et pythonicis mulieribus”, 1489–1669’, German History, 30, issue 4 (Dec. 2012), pp. 493-527, https://doi.org/10.1093/gerhis/ghs077; Davidson, The Witch, pp. 14-9; Petherbridge, Witches & Wicked Bodies, pp. 22, 42; S. Clark, ‘Inversion, Misrule and The Meaning of Witchcraft’, Past & Present, 87, issue 1 (May 1980), pp. 98-127, https://doi.org/10.1093/past/87.1.98.

[17] M. Mencej, Styrian Witches in European Perspective: Ethnographic Fieldwork (London, 2017), pp. 318-22; S. Eaton, ‘Witchcraft and Deformity in Early Modern English Literature’, The Seventeenth Century, 35, no. 6 (2020), 10.1080/0268117X.2020.1819394, pp. 819-20.

[18] Definition from, Oxford English Dictionary.

[19] M. Gaskill, Witchfinders: A Seventeenth-Century English Tragedy (London, 2005), pp. 3, 41-2; S. Eaton, John Stearne’s Confirmation and Discovery of Witchcraft: Text, Context and Afterlife (Routledge, 2020), Chap. 3; M. Hopkins, The Discovery of Witches (London, 1647), frontispiece; Anon., Damnable Practices (London, 1619); Anon., Wonderful Discoverie of the Witchcrafts of Margaret and Phillip Flower (London, 1619). For additional examples see: Anon., Rehearsall Both Straung and True (London, 1579); Anon., A Detection of Damnable Driftes (London, 1579); Anon., Apprehension and Confession (London, 1589); Anon., A Most Certain, Strange, and True Discovery (London, 1643).

[20] T. Potts, The Wonderful Discovery of Witches (London, 1613), sig. G, M2; reprinted with notes in, J. Crossley, Potts’s Discovery of Witches in the County of Lancaster…With an Introduction and Notes by James Crossley, Esq (Manchester, 1845); Anon., Witches of Northamptonshire (London, 1612) the pamphlet’s woodcut is subtly rendered so that it appears as if the witch atop the hog has a cloven foot, thus hinting at her demonic nature.

[21] E. Askew, Brotherly reconcilement preached in Oxford (London, 1605), p. 124.

[22] Stearne, A Confirmation, pp. 26-7.

[23] C. Millar, Witchcraft, the Devil, and Emotions in Early Modern England (London, 2017), pp. 119-22; also see M. Gaskill, ‘Witchcraft and Power in Early Modern England: The Case of Margaret Moore’ in, J. Kermode and G. Walker (eds), Women, Crime and the Courts in Early Modern England (London, 1994), pp. 138-41; C. Koslofsky, ‘Knowing Skin in Early Modern Europe, c. 1450-1750’, History Compass, 12, issue 10 (2014), pp. 794-806, https://doi.org/10.1111/hic3.12195.

[24] Willis, Malevolent Nurture; L. Jackson, ‘Witches, Wives and Mothers: Witchcraft Persecution and Women’s Confessions in Seventeenth-Century England’, Women’s History Review, 4, no. 1 (1995), pp. 63–84; Purkiss, The Witch in History, pp. 102–5, 130-4; A. Hughes, ‘Puritanism and gender’ in, Coffey and Lim (eds), The Cam- bridge companion to Puritanism, pp. 296–7.

[25] Willis, Malevolent Nurture; L. Jackson, ‘Witches, Wives and Mothers’, pp. 63–84; Purkiss, The Witch in History, pp. 102–5, 130-4; Roper, Oedipus and the Devil, pp. 20–6; M. Salmon, ‘The Cultural Significance of Breastfeeding and Infant Care in Early Modern England and America’, Journal of Social History, 28, no. 2 (1994), pp. 251–2; P. Crawford, ‘Attitudes Towards Menstruation’, Past & Present, 91, no. 1 (1981), pp. 47–73, especially p. 52.

[26] L. Houwen, ‘Howling Wolves and Other Beasts: Animals and Monstrosity in the Middle Ages’ in, B. Boehrer, M. Hand and B. Massumi (eds), Animals, Animality, and Literature (Cambridge, 2018), p. 43; J. Salisbury, The Beast Within: Animals in the Middle Ages (London, 1994), pp. 77–101, 146–66; K. Thomas, Man and the Natural World: Changing Attitudes in England, 1550-1800 (London, 1984), p. 41.

[27] E. Wilby, ‘The Witch’s Familiar and the Fairy in Early Modern England and Scotland’, Folklore, 111, no. 2, (Oct., 2000), pp. 283–305; Stearne, A Confirmation, especially pp. 16–33; Carr, ‘The Witch’s Animal Familiar’, pp. 34–9, 74, 79, 101; Millar, Witchcraft, the Devil and Emotions, pp. 81-3.

[28] B. Rosen, Witchcraft in England, 1558–1618 (Amherst, 1991), p. 32; Willis, Malevolent Nurture, p. 244; Roper, Oedipus and the Devil, pp. 200-27; Thomas, Man and the Natural World, pp. 38-9; Millar, Witchcraft, the Devil, and Emotions, pp. 130-2.

 

 

 

 

 

The Perfect Ambassador? The Life and Career of the Early Modern French Diplomat Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux (1640–1709)

Abstract

European diplomacy was born of the relations between northern Italian city-states during the Renaissance, and developed from occasional delegations to resident embassies in the early modern period. In the seventeenth century, the Kingdom of France became the protagonist of European political and military affairs, particularly under the reign of Louis XIV. This article analyses the personality, family background and professional career of Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux (1640–1709) through a range of diplomatic documents to assess the extent to which he met the expectations and diplomatic objectives set by the Sun King. I argue that although d’Avaux was a successful and appreciated Louisquatorzien ambassador, his personal views and approach to diplomatic matters did not always align with royal guidelines.

Keywords: Early Modern diplomacy, Comte d’Avaux, ambassador, Louis XIV, Kingdom of France, Dutch Republic, Peace of Nijmegen, James II, Irish expedition

Author Biography

Elvira Tamus is a PhD student in History at Sidney Sussex College / Faculty of History, University of Cambridge. Her doctoral research focuses on Franco-Hungarian diplomatic relations in the 1520s and 1530s in the context of the Valois-Habsburg-Ottoman imperial rivalry. She obtained her BA in History and French language at the University of Leicester, and her MA in History (specialisation: Europe 1000–1800) at Leiden University. This article is a revised version of a paper written for a research seminar at Leiden.

 

The Perfect Ambassador? The Life and Career of the Early Modern French Diplomat Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux (1640–1709)[1]

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In the seventeenth century, the custom of establishing permanent embassies and sending resident ambassadors to represent their sovereigns in other countries became common in Europe. The key actor in European diplomacy was King Louis XIV (r.1643–1715), whose large-scale political and military endeavours made France the principal power on the continent. The diplomatic machinery that evolved under his reign had a crucial impact on the foreign policy practices of various European states. Thus, along with the status quo set by the Peace of Westphalia which ended the European wars of religion in 1648, Louis instituted the roots of modern diplomacy.

The selection criteria of Louis XIV has been widely discussed in the historiography of French diplomacy. The seventeenth and early eighteenth-century evolution of ambassadorial characteristics, tasks, and responsibilities was carried out by Dutch diplomat Abraham de Wicquefort (1606–82) and French diplomat François de Callières (1645–1717). Wicquefort wrote in his L’Ambassadeur et ses fonctions that an ambassador should possess unquestionable loyalty towards his monarch and a perfect understanding of the issues under negotiation, in order to act in accordance with the interests of his prince.[2] Callières described ambassadors’ responsibilities as representing their princes’ interests and discerning the intentions of other sovereigns. He claimed that a negotiator is first and foremost the executor, rather than the originator of diplomatic decisions which should be made only in consultation with the prince or the principal ministers.[3]  In this regard, as William Roosen has argued, Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux was an exception, since Louis relied heavily on d’Avaux’s insight into political conditions gained during his long experience in The Hague and in Sweden.[4]  Orloue N. Gisselquist has concluded that the decade of 1678–88 was a ‘critical period’ for Louis’ foreign policy.[5]  As the French ambassador in the Dutch Republic, d’Avaux frequently used bribery and propaganda (in the form of widely distributed pamphlets) to influence the many officials involved in decision-making, and to promote French interests.[6] Moreover, Gisselquist notes that the centralised nature of French diplomacy required that its ambassadors dealt only with the local issues around their residencies, and therefore, they were often provided with limited information regarding the broad horizon of French foreign affairs.[7] Due to this feature and the exceptionally long time spent in the Dutch Republic, d’Avaux occasionally misunderstood the king’s intentions. Marie-Hélène Côté highlights that the selection procedure of ambassadors included many aspects, such as their social and financial status, appearance, attitude, morals and education, along with the Louis’ personal confidence in the diplomatic candidates selected.[8]

Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux served as Louis’ ambassador and envoy in several of countries throughout his own illustrious career and the Sun King’s reign.[9] This case study, therefore, offers an opportunity to consider a detailed picture of the lives, duties, personal and professional specialties of Louisquatorzien ambassadors.

In this article, I will analyse the personal background and diplomatic career of Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux, with an emphasis on his service as Louis XIV’s peace negotiator during the Franco-Dutch War; as ambassador to the Dutch Republic; and as an envoy to James II of England’s Irish expedition. These missions represented a critical period of Louis’ reign when the king was engaged in several political and military conflicts. Thus, I will consider the extent to which d’Avaux carried out his diplomatic missions in line with the brief given to him by Louis. I argue that foreign service, remote from regular contact with the French court and his monarch, influenced d’Avaux to the extent that his diplomatic interactions became increasingly independent. Through these observations, I consider the developement of the ambassadorial role in this period. I further reflect on the shifting relationship between ambassador and their monarch back home, and the impacts of this for foreign policy decision-making.

 

Family background, youth and early career (1640–76)

Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux was born in 1639 or 1640 into a highly prestigious intellectual family whose members had acquired their title for serving the French government in judicial, administrative and diplomatic positions –members of the Noblesse de robe.[10] His grandfather, Jean-Jacques was a knight (chevalier) and seigneur of Roissy, while his father, Jean-Antoine possessed one of the most significant mandates of justice at the Parlement of Paris as président à mortier.[11] His uncle, Claude de Mesmes, comte d’Avaux was a prominent diplomat and ambassador under cardinals Richelieu and Mazarin in Venice, Rome, Sweden and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. The family’s involvement in state affairs is documented in Claude’s correspondence with his father, in which they frequently discussed French and European political news as well as the son’s career progress.[12] In the 1640s, Claude de Mesmes served at the peace negotiations in Münster which ended the Thirty Years’ War.[13] Although Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux may be a less well-known diplomat than his uncle, he was nevertheless a crucial agent of French diplomacy in the Dutch Republic for a significant period of time, in one of the most critical periods of Franco-Dutch relations. Jean-Antoine followed a traditional judicial career, becoming firstly conseiller at the parliament in 1661, and then maître de requêtes in 1667.[14] These administrative offices provided the young noble with expertise in law and government. His sufficient but not ‘too high-level’ education and remarkable background accord with Wicquefort’s argument that a prestigious family was more influential in determining a potential ambassador’s success than were schooling and professional experience.[15] Additionally, Callières believed that it was beneficial for a diplomat to have a sufficiently pleasing face to charm an audience.[16] The French duke Louis de Rouvroy de Saint-Simon mentioned the Mesmes family several times in his memoirs and described d’Avaux’s appearance and behaviour as follows: ‘C’étoit un fort bel homme et bien fait, galant aussi, et qui avoit de l’honneur, fort l’esprit du grand monde, de la grâce, de la noblesse, et beaucoup de politesse.’[17] Saint-Simon also noted that d’Avaux had never possessed the title ‘comte d’Avaux’ but nevertheless liked to be referred to as count throughout his career.[18]

Due to a period of almost continuous warfare, Louis needed an efficient, professional diplomatic service to represent his interests abroad and, occasionally, to address disputes by diplomatic means. D’Avaux met these criteria, and was given his first ambassadorial commission to the Republic of Venice between 1672 and 1673. Although this period was relatively peaceful in the series of the Ottoman-Venetian wars, d’Avaux had an important diplomatic task. He needed to reconcile the relationship between the republic and France after the Cretan War (1645–69) in which the Venetians attributed the Ottoman victory at the Siege of Candia (1648–69) to the failures of the allied French army.[19] In addition to this effort, d’Avaux also dealt with commercial affairs by acting as mediator for the acquisition of Italian artefacts by the French court.[20] In a letter from Jean-Baptiste Colbert (1619–83) to d’Avaux, the Minister of Finances thanked the ambassador for sending him an item of luxury clothing as well as for his remarks on Venetian traders, suggesting that d’Avaux had contributed significantly to economic agreements between France and Venice.[21]

 

The Treaty of Nijmegen and the ambassadorial service in The Hague (1675–88)

One of the major political aspirations of the Sun King concerned the Spanish Succession, an ongoing European-wide dilemma of the late seventeenth century. The problem originated with Charles II of Spain, who was physically and mentally disabled and childless in both of his marriages. Louis initiated the War of Devolution (1667–68) by staking his claim for the Spanish throne through his wife, the sister of Charles, Maria Theresa of Spain. The Triple Alliance of the United Provinces of the Netherlands, England and Sweden in 1668 made Louis step back from his plans and thus became, along with the Dutch embargo on French products, one of the causes of the Franco-Dutch War between 1672 and 1679.[22]

Louis launched a war of conquest for territorial and commercial benefits and triumphed over the alliance that William III, Prince of Orange, had forged with Spain and the Holy Roman Empire. It was in the final stage of this conflict that the young d’Avaux truly grounded his future diplomatic career through his valuable negotiating skills. In 1674, Louis was primarily concerned with dismantling any form of alliance that opposed his interests, such as the one which was soon to emerge between the Dutch Republic and England. To negotiate the best conditions for France, the Sun King needed loyal, dedicated and well-trained diplomats. In December 1675, Louis appointed three plenipotentiaries to represent his interests directly in the negotiations: Colbert de Croissy (1625–96), brother of Minister of Finances Jean-Baptiste Colbert; Godefroi, Comte d’Estrade (1607–86); and Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux.[23] Their main responsibility was to assure the delegates from other states of Louis’ benevolence and willingness to cooperate.[24] They relayed the King’s offers which consisted of trading benefits; the withdrawal of formerly installed restrictive duties; and the return of territories which had been occupied by French troops such as Maastricht and the Principality of Orange-Nassau. The latter concession was particularly important, since Louis had previously seized a number of European fortresses of strategic importance.[25] The mission enhanced the professional reputation of all three and proved to be an ideal entry-point into successful ambassadorial careers. From the French perspective, the treaty, which was signed by the representatives of France and the Dutch Republic on 10 August 1678, aimed to utilise and increase the political and military glory that Louis XIV had gained with his territorial captures.

The more than six years of hostility had fundamentally damaged the relations between the two states, and careful diplomatic steps were needed to reconcile them. Louis sent an ambassadeur extraordinaire to reinvigorate his relationship with the United Provinces, to extend the political, diplomatic and commercial successes which he had gained from the war and, most importantly, to uncover more about William III’s potential future military endeavours. For this, Louis chose d’Avaux as the key figure of the diplomatic rapprochement between France and the United Provinces. When the Prince of Orange challenged the Treaty of Nijmegen in August 1678 and called for resistance against France with a planned coalition with England, d’Avaux was put in charge of disentangling the issue by convincing the Dutch leadership of Louis’ trustworthiness. The king justified his appointment by stating that d’Avaux’s ‘présence donnera beaucoup plus de force aux assurances’.[26] Additionally, he instructed the diplomat to communicate with other ambassadors in The Hague and to convince them that the ratification of the remaining treaties with France would bring peace and friendship.[27] After d’Avaux’s success in resolving post-war interstate issues with Venice, Louis had confidence that d’Avaux could facilitate trust between the two sides. The latter was pleased to receive his commission in September 1678 and travelled from Nijmegen to The Hague at the end of that month.[28]

Court life was particularly expensive and Louis’ ambassadors never felt they were provided with sufficient means to maintain an appropriate degree of opulence – the Sun King’s envoys were meant to represent his superiority both materially and ceremonially. Callières similarly argued that ambassadors should possess considerable wealth, ‘afin d’être en état de soutenir les dépenses necessairement attachées a cet emploi.’[29] In 1679, d’Avaux began his commission as the new French ambassador to The Hague with an impressive ceremony to celebrate French successes gained with the Peace of Nijmegen.[30] The language of d’Avaux’s Mémoirs shows that he, as any of Louis’ ambassadors, was primarily and almost exclusively to represent the Roi Soleil personally, rather than the gouvernement and still less the peuple. The King’s name, titles and laudation were permanent elements of d’Avaux’s records, negotiations and widely circulated pamphlets.[31] One of the main benefits he had gained in the preceding years was his great circle of acquaintances and a few confidential relations. Most importantly, Colbert de Croissy, his fellow negotiator, became Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in 1679. D’Avaux had several relatives and friends in high administrative positions at the royal court who provided him with a regular flow of information of considerable value in the following years.[32] During the negotiations, the policy of aggressive expansion that Louis had initially pursued fundamentally changed. Taking advantage of the political tension between the trading leaders and the Prince of Orange, Louis turned towards a more subtle approach by trying to create favourable conditions for the Dutch merchant elite.[33] In 1684, d’Avaux successfully negotiated with the Dutch provinces to have Louis’ proposals accepted by the States General, the legislature body of the Republic – in spite of the efforts of secrétaire général Gaspar Fagel (1634–88), a key representative of William III.[34]

A contemporary of d’Avaux, Louis-Henri de Loménie, comte de Brienne (1635–98) praised the diplomatic skills of the diplomat:

M. d’Avaux est un beau génie et fort facile; il a de grandes vues, beaucoup de pénétration et un grand usage des affaires. Il sait parfaitement les intérêts des princes de l’Europe, écrit et parle bien. Il seroit très digne d’être secrétaire d’État.[35]

D’Avaux dedicated considerable efforts to the resolution of two further issues. The first of these was the interception in the United Provinces of Huguenot refugees who had fled France after the enacting of the Edict of Fontainebleau in October 1685. With this decree, Louis revoked the Edict of Nantes, in which Henry IV of France had granted free exercise of religion for Calvinists in 1598. The persecution of French Protestants forced many of them to leave their home country for more religiously tolerant states, notably the Dutch Republic. The revived persecution of Protestants not only undermined the diplomatic relations of France, but caused economic harm due to the absence of a great number of Huguenots, who were diligent merchants and tradesmen.[36]  D’Avaux was trying to tempt some of these craftsmen back by offering them benefits, as long as they were willing to reconvert to Roman Catholicism. Politically, the growing number of Huguenot refugees in the Dutch Republic contributed to the deterioration of the States General’s attitude towards France, potentially frustrating d’Avaux’s plans to foster the conflict between them and William III.[37]

D’Avaux deployed espionage and bribery to gain access to the Huguenot community, with the intent that they be returned to France where they would have to abandon Protestantism. The ambassador addressed this problem with the help of a spy in Haarlem, Sieur de Tillières, who had been providing him with information about the refugees for years. This issue prompted d’Avaux to express his concerns regarding the negative impact of the persecutions. He indicated in his letters to Louis that the most effective technique to reduce the emigrations would be decreasing state aggression against the Protestants, instead of the continued policy of catching and returning them home.[38]

D’Avaux strongly encouraged Louis to cement his diplomatic relationship with the Dutch. However, William III of Orange, Stadtholder of the United Provinces approached the other Protestant maritime power, the Kingdom of England, hoping for an anti-French alliance. William had had aspirations to become the heir to the English throne since his marriage to Princess Mary in 1677, niece of the then sovereign Charles II. Mary’s father was crowned James II, King of England in 1685, but was not viewed favourably at home, due to his Catholic affiliations. His situation was threatened in June 1688, when a son was born to his second wife Mary of Modena. The birth of a Catholic prince provoked fears that through the heir, Catholicism would be restored and become the official religion.[39] D’Avaux was sufficiently confident to urge his king in the strongest terms: ‘J’avertis le Roi, pour la dixième fois, que tout ce qui se passoit de plus secret dans le Conseil du Roi d’Angleterre, étoit révélé au Prince d’Orange.’[40] Indeed, d’Avaux was proved correct when William ’invaded’ at England Protestant request in the Glorious Revolution in November 1688.[41]

Eventually, a large-scale European clash of political and economic interests developed in the guise of the Nine Years’ War (1688–97), mainly consisting of a Dutch, English (Williamite), and Holy Roman alliance against France’s ever increasing commercial and political superiority.[42] During the initial phase of the English dynastic rivalry, Louis had supported his cousin James, hoping that Catholicism, and his own influence, would be revived in England. D’Avaux dedicated considerable efforts to obtaining intelligence regarding William III’s maritime preparations. He reported on the danger he discerned in the plans of the Prince of Orange, particularly towards the English throne. To gather as much information as possible, d’Avaux followed Louis’s recommendation of establishing relations with the the republicans (members of the States party), who generally opposed the aspirations of the Stadtholder and the Orangist (pro-William) party.[43] He also found informants in the council of Amsterdam, a rich city with many republican supporters.[44] In addition, d’Avaux made use of William’s unpopular plan of increasing the size of the army against a possible French advancement in the Spanish Netherlands. D’Avaux was expected by the French administration to send alerts about every single movement of William and his Troupes, and his reports illustrate his diligence in this respect. Nonetheless, he did not hesitate to report about the States General’s decreasing sympathy towards the French cause:

Les Ministres du Roi d’Angleterre dirent que leur Maitre auroit une grosse Flotte en mer : cela servit de prétexte au Prince d’Orange pour faire un plus grand armement, car il étoit bien éloigné d’en rien craindre, puisqu’il étoit assuré que le Roi d’Angleterre n’étoit pas en état de mettre plus de sept á huit Vaisseaux. (…) Que supposé que le Prince d’Orange eut tous ces desseins, j’étois obligé de dire á Sa Majesté qu’il ne trouvat du secours dans les Etats-Generaux, que tous les fugitifs de France avoient tellement animé les Calvinistes de Hollande, qu’on n’oseroit se promettre que les Etats entrassent dans leurs véritables interets, comme ils auroient fait autrefois, si pareille occasion s’étoit présentée.[45]

From these reports, Louis learned that in addition to the followers of the prince, many supported William’s goal of promoting Protestantism and Dutch trade in England. However, the French court could not be fully aware of, or prepared for, the upcoming developments, due to William’s well-organised and cautious steps and the gradual erosion of d’Avaux’s intelligence circle. The inefficacy in providing sufficient information about William’s project can be regarded mainly as the result of the prince’s precautionary and increasing support, rather than d’Avaux’s failure as ambassador.

 

Irish expedition with James II (1689–90)

In early 1689, Louis appointed d’Avaux as advisor to James II of England, to help him reorganise his army in Ireland comprising both Protestants and Catholics.[46] D’Avaux’s correspondence from Ireland with Louis and Louvois, the French Secretary of State for War, provides us with a valuable insight into James II’s intentions and also into the diplomat’s endeavours and judgment of the situation during the campaign in Ireland in 1689–90. James II aimed to seize absolute control over Ireland in order to retaliate against William III, and thus to restore his royal power with a considerable social and military force behind him. However, the French king, and hence his ambassador, had a different priority in this campaign – to occupy William III’s attention and army away from the continent as much as possible.[47] Consequently, the clash of these interests was virtually inevitable.

William III was the central figure of the anti-French European coalition but his new English crown resulted in several challenges to this leadership.[48] Although d’Avaux did not arrive in Ireland in 1689 as an ambassador, he did bear a large share of the responsibility of Louis’s military success in Britain and Ireland. His extensive experience as both observer and influencer of public and political opinion facilitated his orientation in the Irish question. D’Avaux’s role in James II’s expedition in Ireland was essential as the diplomat realised the importance of William’s obstruction in the success of France and the Jacobites, and kept emphasising the interests of the French crown in the entire course of his engagement. In this expedition, James II was advised by the Irish soldier Richard Talbot, 1st Earl of Tyrconnell; the Scottish politician John Drummond, 1st Earl of Melfort; and d’Avaux. In the course of the first month, d’Avaux perceived a promising situation regarding the acceptance of James’ expedition. Nonetheless, upon arrival, d’Avaux found himself in disagreement with James over the crucial question of the Act of Settlement – the king wanted to maintain it, while the diplomat wished to terminate it. The 1662 law had caused problems because it had provided land for Protestants by taking land from Catholics. Consequently, either its upkeep or its dissolution would have resulted in dissatisfaction with James in Ireland. The land issue between Catholics and Protestants made Louis XIV reconsider his ideas about the clash of religious denominations. The Sun King appreciated d’Avaux’s suggestions of creating a compromise, and encouraged him to keep working on the improvement of James’ support among Irishmen:

En sorte que non seulement les Irlandois Catholiques . . . puissent espérer qu’il leur fera justice, mais aussy que les Protestants… puissent estre asseurez, que la différence de leur religion ne leur fera aucun prejudice aupres de luy.[49]

Nevertheless, a parallel can be drawn with the situation in The Hague, when the ambassador was closer to the actual situation than was the court he was serving, and thus assessed the situation differently from Louis. Firstly, d’Avaux’s judgement that the deteriorating situation was due to James’ incompetence and vanity was nurtured by his own experience of the English King. Secondly, Louis’ solution to the land question did not prove to be feasible—d’Avaux found out what the king had not: namely, that the religious division in Ireland was deeper than expected, and the initial objectives of the campaign should be adjusted to this reality. One of d’Avaux’s earliest reports expressed his discontent with James II’s leadership and organisational skills:

La seule chose, Sir, qui pourra nous faire de la peine, est l’irrésolution du Roy d’Angleterre, qui change souvent d’avis, et ne se détermine pas toujours au meilleur. Il s’arrête aussy beaucoup à de petites choses où il employe toujours son temps et passe légèrement sur les plus essentielles.[50]

D’Avaux urged James to thoroughly strengthen his social support and military forces in Ireland in order to prepare for the continuation of the war with William III. The diplomat believed that this support would be gained by reconciling with the Protestants of the north, or at least by ensuring they did not view James with hostility. D’Avaux urged caution, contrary to the King’s wishes to capitalise on his early successes and continue his campaign in Scotland as soon as possible. D’Avaux was confident enough – almost daring – to voice his disagreements with the royal decisions when he judged them to be hazardous or oppositional to French interests. This attitude, however, led to significant tension with James and the Earl of Melfort, the former’s chief counselor in military matters.[51]

Moreover, d’Avaux complained about the difficulty of acquiring adequate information about James II’s supporters and opponents, telling Louis that ‘le Roy d’Angleterre n’a nulle correspondence en Angleterre, ny en Ecosse’.[52] In spite of the relatively short time he had spent in Ireland, d’Avaux was already able to effectively measure the attitude of Irish society by the beginning of April: ’Le peuple et la noblesse d’Irlande sont également persuadez que c’est icy la seule occasion qu’ils pouvoient avoir de recouvrer leur liberté…’[53] He recognised that the tension between James’ main objective and that of his subjects would have unpleasant ramifications for the enterprise. D’Avaux did not hesitate to express his concerns regarding the efficiency of the recruitment, organisation and management of soldiers as soon as he noticed the first signs of inadequacy in the middle of April 1689. The diplomat concluded that these problems would weaken James’ influence and also increase William’s chances of attacking him in Ireland.[54] News about his growing popularity in Scotland bolstered James’s confidence and determination to go on fighting there.[55] Negligence remained a general feature of James’ policy regarding the physical condition, preparedness and armament of his Irish troops throughout the entire expedition. Altogether, the delay in army reform and increasing Protestant resistance gradually decreased the opportunities of the Franco-Jacobite forces. D’Avaux informed Louis about further issues in the army, such as the inefficient use of French military aid and the lack of adequate payment which caused indiscipline among the soldiers.[56] From late spring, d’Avaux was placed in charge of the army and made efforts to install some degree of discipline, a scheme of payment and the provision of weaponry. However, these belated attempts brought limited success and only increased his personal frustration.[57]

Louis insisted on taking the lead in the Irish expedition and, through d’Avaux, on shaping the events according to his own judgement. However, James’ defeat in his conflict with the Protestants at Derry made the Sun King realise that the expedition would be delayed due to the contradiction between their intentions. Both the king and Louvois started to endorse d’Avaux’s observations and suggestions regarding the steps to be taken in early summer.[58] Over the course of the summer, d’Avaux showed disapproval towards James’ attitude, this time towards the Irish parliament which intended to facilitate trade with France and introduce an embargo on English products.[59] D’Avaux’s disillusionment with the ideals of the French-supported Irish expedition derived from James’ ignoring of most of his political and military advice, as well as the increasing tension between French and Jacobite intentions. D’Avaux’s warnings about the necessity of strengthening power in Ireland were ignored, which led to the weakening of James’ authority and social support, which gradually decreased the chances of his restoration. By the end of the summer, d’Avaux’s relationship with the English king had permanently deteriorated due to the lack of confidence and mutual agreement.[60] His reports about the situation spurred Louis to modify his policies and the French king often simply approved d’Avaux’s evaluations. Importantly, d’Avaux took Louis’ other military commitments in the continent into account when advising James.[61] By November, his position as James’ counselor became obsolete, and he was dismissed shortly thereafter.[62] D’Avaux accepted this news with opposition and contempt for his successor Antoine Nompar de Caumont, comte de Lauzun: ‘il n’est pas assez fort pour soustenir le poids des affaires dont il est chargé.’[63] D’Avaux felt fully responsible for the failure of most of his efforts to save James’ campaign. We can also presume some degree of perfectionism since he was unwilling to leave before achieving his goals. From these accounts, a conscientious, experienced and attentive diplomat emerges, one unafraid to report accurately and offer his own advice, even when it contradicted his king’s intended strategic direction. As d’Avaux observed the English king ignoring his strategic and tactical recommendations, his reports became increasingly disenchanted and resigned. After all, d’Avaux’s accurate appraisal of the political, military, social and religious circumstances in Ireland led not to the implementation of his advice, but rather to his alienation from James II.

Despite the failed Irish expedition, d’Avaux remained an honoured member of Louis XIV’s diplomatic staff. Between 1692 and 1699, d’Avaux served as France’s ambassador to the Kingdom of Sweden where his chief task was to convince Charles XI of Sweden (1660-97) to act as mediator between France and the Holy Roman Empire in the peace negotiations that concluded the Nine Years’ War.[64] In 1701, d’Avaux briefly deputised the ailing French ambassador Gabriel de Briord in The Hague, before Louis’ diplomatic relations broke with the United Provinces due to the outbreak of the War of the Spanish Succession (1701-14).[65]

 

Conclusion

Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux followed the family tradition of entering a judicial career, followed by the diplomatic profession. He met the requirements set for Louisquatorzien ambassadors by being French, Roman Catholic, noble, wealthy, middle-aged, legally trained (but not highly educated), good-looking, well-behaved, and by having an extended network of influential friends and relatives in illustrious social circles. On the other hand, he remained unmarried and did not speak many languages. Most importantly, d’Avaux was eager, inventive, dedicated and loyal to Louis XIV. The combination of these characteristics, along with the prominence of his origins, made him a perfect candidate for the highest diplomatic service.

D’Avaux was a prominent, acknowledged and a highly successful ambassador of the Louisquatorzien era. The main proof of this were the high number of places of service throughout his career; the exceptionally long period of time spent in The Hague, Europe’s major diplomatic centre; and more importantly, his active involvement in Louis XIV’s most significant diplomatic issues. D’Avaux’s correspondence from the time of his activities in the Dutch Republic – at Nijmegen and in The Hague—attested to his incessant fidelity, dedication, enthusiasm and creativity in seeking information in favour of his prince’s interests. Many of the analysed sources demonstrate that the king relied not only on the news and rumours provided by d’Avaux about the events at his residencies, but also on his personal opinion in crucial questions. It is an ongoing question as to whether Louis XIV’s diplomats followed the King’s diplomatic directions in a largely servile fashion, and the degree to which they were able to assert their own views and voice disagreements. We can argue that Louisquatorzien ambassadors represented Louis XIV in the first instance and that the King’s values, interests and ambitions hence largely defined their manoeuvres. Nevertheless, d’Avaux gained a detailed knowledge of home affairs at foreign courts while receiving only partial information from Louis XIV about his own large-scale international political endeavours. Therefore, d’Avaux’s life and career show that an experienced ambassador, who had spent much time far away from Paris and was actively involved in influencing the direction of politics at foreign courts, could develop his own approach and attitude in diplomatic questions.

D’Avaux continued to diligently represent French interests by James II’s side in Ireland with his diplomatic and martial expertise. In addition to promoting what he found best for the French crown, he also strived to help James’ cause and success against William, as long as these two goals ran parallel to each other. The main issue that d’Avaux faced during this expedition was James’ differing aspirations and unwillingness to compromise, or at least to listen to his advice. Thus, the Irish expedition can be called successful in terms of d’Avaux’s loyal dedication to serving Louis XIV, but unsuccessful in influencing James II to the extent of fulfilling French interests and restoring his power. To conclude, Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux was one of the most influential, prominent and reliable ambassadors of Louis XIV. He remained a faithful servant of his king during his career. At the same time, however, the evidence suggests that a sufficiently confident and successful diplomat could act with a fair degree of independence in matters of French foreign service.

 

Bibliography

 Manuscript and Archival Sources

Leiden University Libraries — Special Collections, Leiden (UBL): Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux, Mémoires de S.E. mr. le comte d’ Avaux, ambassadeur extraordinaire de sa majesté trés-Chrétienne, presenté aux États Généraux des Provinces Unies (le 28 avril 1685).

Leiden University Libraries — Special Collections, Leiden (UBL): Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux, Négociations de Monsieur le comte d’Avaux en Hollande depuis 1679 jusqu’en 1688, vol. 6 (Paris, 1704).

Nationale Bibliotheek van Nederland — Koninklijke Bibliotheek, The Hague (KL): Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux, Négociations de M. le comte d’Avaux en Irlande, 1689–90, Hogan, J. (ed.) (Dublin, 1934).

Bibliothèque nationale de France, Gallica — The BnF digital library, Paris (BnF): Abraham de Wicquefort, L’ambassadeur et ses fonctions. Par Monsieur de Wicquefort, Marteau, P. (ed.) (Cologne, 1690, https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k93844c, accessed 08.12.2019.

Bibliothèque nationale de France, Gallica — The BnF digital library, Paris (BnF): Claude de Mesmes, comte d’Avaux, Correspondance inédite du Comte d’Avaux (Claude de Mesmes) avec son père Jean-Jacques de Mesmes, Sr de Roissy (1627–1642), Boppe, A. (ed.) (Paris, 1887), https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k9601491s.texteImage, accessed 12.12.2019.

Bibliothèque nationale de France, Gallica — The BnF digital library, Paris (BnF): François de Callières, De la manière de négocier avec les souverains : de l’utilité des négociations, du choix des ambassadeurs et des envoyez, et des qualitez necessaires pour réussir dans ces emplois (Amsterdam, 1716), https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k936753, accessed 08.12.2019.

 

Primary Sources

François Michel Le Tellier de Louvois, Letters of Louvois, Hardré, J. (ed.) (Chapel Hill, 1949).

Correspondance administrative sous le règne de Louis XIV, entre le cabinet du roi, les secrétaires d’état, le chancelier de France, Depping, G. B. (ed.) (Paris, 1855), https://archive.org/details/correspondancead04depp/page/406, accessed 19.12.2019.

Gazette de France, no. 35, 20 August 1695, https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k57029613.item, accessed 18.12.2019.

Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux, A memorial of His Excellency the Earl of Avaux, extraordinary ambassador from the most Christian king; delivered to the States General, concerning the false interpretation, made to be the meanings of his intercepted letter (1684). London: Given at the Hague on 28 February 1684, and reprinted in London for Walter Davis, Early English Books Online (Imgaes reproduced by courtesy of Bodleian Library), https://search.proquest.com/eebo/docview/2240854408/fulltextPDF/B3750F6599ED4111PQ/1?accountid=12045, accessed 12.12.2019.

Jean-Baptiste Colbert, Lettres, instructions et mémoires de Colbert, Clément, P. (ed.) (Paris, 1863), https://archive.org/details/p2lettresinstruc02colbuoft, accessed 12.12.2019.

Louis-Henri de Loménie, Mémoires de Louis-Henri de Loménie, comte de Brienne, dit le jeune Brienne, Bonnefon, Paul (ed.) (Paris, 1916), https://archive.org/details/memoiresdelouish03brie, accessed 16.12.2019.

Louis Moréri, Le grand dictionnaire historique ou Le mélange curieux de l’histoire sacrée et profane, vol. 7, 3rd ed., Goujet, C-P., & Drouet, É. F. (eds.) (Paris, 1759), https://archive.org/details/MoreriGdDictHist07bnf.pdf, accessed 20.12.2019.

Louis de Rouvroy de Saint-Simon, Les grands écrivains de la France (tome XVII): Saint-Simon. Mémoires, Régnier, A. (ed.) (Paris, 1879), https://archive.org/details/memoiresdesaints17sain, accessed 16.12.2019.

Recueil des instructions données aux ambassadeurs et ministres de France depuis les traités de Westphalie jusqu’à la Révolution française. XXI–XXII: Hollande, André, L., & Bourgeois, É. (eds.) (Paris, 1922–1924).

 

Secondary sources

André, L., Louis XIV et l’Europe (Paris, 1950).

Chappell, C. L., ‘Through the Eyes of a Spy: Venom and Value in an Enemy’s Report on the Huguenot Emigration’, in McKee, J., & Vigne, R. (eds.), The Huguenots: France, exile & diaspora (Brighton, 2013), pp. 77–88.

Clark, G. N., The Dutch Alliance and the War Against French Trade, 1686–1697 (Manchester, 1923).

Côté, M-H., ‘What Did It Mean to be a French Diplomat in the Seventeenth and Early Eighteenth Centuries?’, Canadian Journal of History — Annales canadiennes d’histoire, 45 (2010), pp. 235–58.

Geyl, P., ‘Johan de Witt, Grand Pensionary of Holland, 1653–72’, History – New Series, 20 (1936), pp. 303–19.

Gisselquist, O. N., The French ambassador, Jean-Antoine De Mesmes, Comte D’Avaux, and French diplomacy in The Hague, 1678–1684 (Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Minnesota, 1968).

Lynn, J. A., The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714 (London, 1999).

Miller, J., James II (New Haven, 2000).

Ogg, D., Europe in the seventeenth century (London, 1960).

Roosen, W., The Ambassador’s craft: a study of the functioning of French ambassadors under Louis XIV (Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Southern California, 1967).

Roosen, W., ‘The True Ambassador: Occupational and Personal Characteristics of the French Ambassador under Louis XIV’, European Studies Quarterly, 3 (1973), pp. 121–39.

Setton, K. M., Venice, Austria, and the Turks in the seventeenth century (Philadelphia, 1991).

Symcox, G. W., Louis XIV and the war in Ireland, 1689–1691: A study of his strategic thinking and decision-making (Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of California, 1967).

Tischer, A., ‘Claude de Mesmes, Count d’Avaux (1595–1650): The Perfect Ambassador of the Early 17th Century’, International Negotiations, 13 (2008), pp. 197–209.

Van Zuylen Van Nyevelt, S., Court life in the Dutch Republic, 1638–1689 (London & New York, 1906).

Wolf, J. B., Louis XIV (New York, 1968).

 

Further reading

Kossmann, E. H., ‘The Dutch Republic’ in Carsten, F. L. (ed.), The New Cambridge Modern History, vol. V (Cambridge, 1961), pp. 275–300.

Wilkinson, R., Louis XIV, 2nd ed. (London & New York, 2018).

Zeller, G., ‘French Diplomacy and Foreign Policy in their European Setting’ in Carsten, The New Cambridge Modern History, pp. 198–221.

 

Notes

[1] I would like to thank Dr. Maurits A. Ebben (Institute for History, Leiden University) for his valuable advice in the autumn of 2019 in the course of writing the paper which served as the basis of this article. Figure on the cover page: Hyacinthe Rigaud, Portrait of Jean-Antoine de Mesmes 4th son of Jean-Jacques de Mesmes (France, 1702), Wikimedia Commons, 2019, https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Portrait_of_Jean-Antoine_de_Mesmes_(1640-1709)_by_Hyacinthe_Rigaud.jpg, accessed 23.12.2019. All translations are the author’s own unless otherwise indicated.

[2] Abraham de Wicquefort, L’ambassadeur et ses fonctions. Par Monsieur de Wicquefort, P. Marteau (ed.) (Cologne, 1690, https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k93844c, accessed 08.12.2019, p. 6, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Gallica — The BnF digital library, Paris (BnF).

[3] François de Callières, De la manière de négocier avec les souverains (Amsterdam, 1716), https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k936753, accessed 08.12.2019, pp. 85–90, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Gallica — The BnF digital library, Paris (BnF).

[4] W. Roosen, The Ambassador’s craft: a study of the functioning of French ambassadors under Louis XIV (Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Southern California, 1967), p. 106.

[5] O. N. Gisselquist, The French ambassador, Jean-Antoine De Mesmes, Comte D’Avaux, and French diplomacy in The Hague, 1678–1684 (Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Minnesota, 1968), pp. 336–60.

[6] The terms ‘Dutch Republic’ and ‘United Provinces (of the Netherlands)’ are used to refer to the same territory and political unity in this article.

[7] Gisselquist, The French ambassador, pp. 361–64.

[8] M-H. Côté, ‘What Did It Mean to be a French Diplomat in the Seventeenth and Early Eighteenth Centuries?’, Canadian Journal of History — Annales canadiennes d’histoire, 45 (2010), pp. 235–58, 242–50.

[9] These countries include the Republic of Venice, the Dutch Republic, Ireland, and the Kingdom of Sweden.

[10] W. Roosen, ‘The True Ambassador: Occupational and Personal Characteristics of French Ambassadors under Louis XIV’, European History Quarterly, 3 (1973), pp. 121–39, 122.

[11] The présidents à mortier were the principle magistrates of the parlements, the appellate courts of the Ancien Régime. Louis Moréri, Le grand dictionnaire historique ou Le mélange curieux de l’histoire sacrée et profane, vol. 7, 3rd ed., C.-P. Goujet, & É. F. Drouet (eds.) (Paris, 1759), https://archive.org/details/MoreriGdDictHist07bnf.pdf, accessed 20.12.2019, p. 495.

[12] Claude de Mesmes, comte d’Avaux, Correspondance inédite du Comte d’Avaux (Claude de Mesmes) avec son père Jean-Jacques de Mesmes, Sr de Roissy (1627–1642), A. Boppe (ed.) (Paris, 1887), https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k9601491s.texteImage, accessed 12.12.2019, pp. 197–99, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Gallica — The BnF digital library, Paris (BnF).

[13] A. Tischer, ‘Claude de Mesmes, Count d’Avaux (1595–1650): The Perfect Ambassador of the Early 17th Century’, International Negotiations, 13 (2008), pp. 197–209, 203.

[14] The maîtres de requêtes were judicial counselors of the Conseil d’État (Council of State). Gazette de France, no. 35, 20 August 1695, https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k57029613.item, accessed 18.12.2019, p. 395.

[15] Wicquefort, L’ambassadeur et ses fonctions, p. 77.

[16]  ‘…il ait un noble exteriur & une figure agreable qui lui facilite les moyens de plaire.’ in Callières, De la manière de négocier avec les souverains, p. 47.

[17] Louis de Rouvroy de Saint-Simon, Les grands écrivains de la France (tome XVII): Saint-Simon. Mémoires A. Régnier (ed.) (Paris, 1879), https://archive.org/details/memoiresdesaints17sain, p. 100.

[18] ‘He was a strong handsome man and good-looking, also brave, and who had honour, strong spirit of the great world, grace, nobility, and a lot of politeness.’ Saint-Simon, Les grands écrivains de la France, p. 110.

[19] K. M. Setton, Venice, Austria, and the Turks in the seventeenth century (Philadelphia, 1991), pp. 225–27.

[20] Jean-Baptiste Colbert, Lettres, instructions et mémoires de Colbert, P. Clément (ed.) (Paris, 1863), https://archive.org/details/p2lettresinstruc02colbuoft, accessed 16.12.2019, pp. 660–61.

[21] Colbert, Lettres, instructions et mémoires de Colbert, p. 672.

[22] P. Geyl, ‘Johan de Witt, Grand Pensionary of Holland, 1653–72’, History – New Series, 20 (1936), pp. 303–19, 311.

[23] Recueil des instructions données aux ambassadeurs et ministres de France depuis les traités de Westphalie jusqu’à la Révolution française. XXI–XXII: Hollande, L. André, & É. Bourgeois (eds.) (Paris, 1922–1924), pp. 344–45.

[24] John B. Wolf, Louis XIV (New York, 1968), pp. 193–211.

[25] André & Bourgeois, Recueil des instructions … Hollande, pp. xxxviiil xl.

[26] ‘… presence will give much more strength to the assurances.’ André & Bourgeois, Recueil des instructions … Hollande, pp. xl–xliii.

[27] André & Bourgeois, Recueil des instructions … Hollande, pp. 396–98.

[28] André & Bourgeois, Recueil des instructions … Hollande, p. 382.

[29] ‘… in order to be able to support the expenses necessarily attached to this job.’ Callières, De la manière de négocier avec les souverains, p. 46.

[30] S. Van Zuylen Van Nyevelt, Court life in the Dutch Republic, 1638–1689 (London & New York, 1906), p. 292.

[31] For instance: Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux, Mémoires de S.E. mr. le comte d’ Avaux, ambassadeur extraordinaire de sa majesté trés-Chrétienne, presenté aux États Généraux des Provinces Unies (le 28 avril 1685), Leiden University Libraries – Special Collections, Leiden (UBL).

[32] For example, during James II of England’s Irish campaign where he worked as the king’s advisor. D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 30 August 1689 in Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux, Négociations de M. le comte d’Avaux en Irlande, 1689–90, J. Hogan (ed.) (Dublin, 1934), p. 428, Nationale Bibliotheek van Nederland – Koninklijke Bibliotheek, The Hague (KL).

[33] Gisselquist, The French ambassador, pp. 9–10.

[34] François Michel Le Tellier de Louvois, Letters of Louvois, J. Hardré (ed.) (Chapel Hill, 1949), pp. 365–66.

[35] ‘M. d’Avaux is a nice and very easy-going genius; he has great views, a lot of understanding, and a great use of business. He knows the interests of the princes of Europe perfectly, writes and speaks well. He would be very worthy of being secretary of state.’ Louis-Henri de Loménie, Mémoires de Louis-Henri de Loménie, comte de Brienne, dit le jeune Brienne, P. Bonnefon (ed.) (Paris, 1916), https://archive.org/details/memoiresdelouish03brie, accessed 16.12.2019, pp. 261–62.

[36] D. Ogg, Europe in the seventeenth century (London, 1960), p. 293.

[37] Correspondance administrative sous le règne de Louis XIV, entre le cabinet du roi, les secrétaires d’état, le chancelier de France, G. B. Depping (ed.) (Paris, 1855), https://archive.org/details/correspondancead04depp/page/406, accessed 19.12.2019, p. 406.

[38] C. L. Chappell, ‘Through the Eyes of a Spy: Venom and Value in an Enemy’s Report on the Huguenot Emigration’, in J. McKee, & R. Vigne (eds.), The Huguenots: France, exile & diaspora (Brighton, 2013), pp. 77–88, 81–84.

[39] D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 20 July 1688 in Jean-Antoine de Mesmes d’Avaux, Négociations de Monsieur le comte d’Avaux en Hollande depuis 1679 jusqu’en 1688, vol. 6 (Paris, 1704), pp. 168–69, Leiden University Libraries – Special Collections, Leiden (UBL).

[40] ‘I warn the King, for the tenth time, that everything that is going on in the greatest secrecy in the Council of the King of England has been revealed to the Prince of Orange.’ D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 24 June 1688 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Hollande…, p. 164.

[41] J. Miller, James II (New Haven, 2000), pp. 186–96.

[42] G. N. Clark, The Dutch Alliance and the War Against French Trade, 1686–1697 (Manchester, 1923), p. 1.

[43] André & Bourgeois, Recueil des instructions … Hollande, p. 399.

[44] A memorial of His Excellency the Earl of Avaux, extraordinary ambassador from the most Christian king; delivered to the States General, concerning the false interpretation, made to be the meanings of his intercepted letter (1684). London: Given at the Hague on 28 February 1684, and reprinted in London for Walter Davis, Early English Books Online (Images reproduced by courtesy of Bodleian Library), https://search.proquest.com/eebo/docview/2240854408/fulltextPDF/B3750F6599ED4111PQ/1?accountid=12045, accessed 12.12.2019.

[45] ‘The ministers of the King of England said that their master would have a large fleet at sea: this served as an excuse for the Prince of Orange to make a greater armament, for he was far from fearing anything, since it was assured that the King of England was not in a condition to apply more than seven to eight ships. (…) That supposing that the Prince of Orange had all these designs, I was obliged to tell His Majesty that he found no help in the Estates-General, that all the fugitives from France had invigorated the Calvinists of Holland so much that one would not dare to promise that the States would join their genuine interests, as they would have done in the past, if such an opportunity had risen.’ D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 10 June 1688 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Hollande…, vol. 6, pp. 160–62.

[46] L. André, Louis XIV et l’Europe (Paris, 1950), pp. 256–57.

[47] J. A. Lynn, The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667–1714 (London, 1999), p 203.

[48] G. W. Symcox, Louis XIV and the war in Ireland, 1689–1691: A study of his strategic thinking and decision-making (Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of California, 1967), pp. 97–98.

[49] ‘So that not only the Irish Catholics… can hope that he will do justice to them, but also that the Protestants… can be assured, that the difference of their religion will not do any harm to them by him.’ Louis XIV to d’Avaux on 12 March 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, pp. 31–32.

[50] ‘The only thing, Sir, that can hurt us, is the irresolution of the King of England, who often changes his mind, and is not always determined to the best. He also stops a lot at little things where he always takes his time and spends it lightly on the most essential [things].’ D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 23 March 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, p. 23.

[51] Symcox, Louis XIV and the war in Ireland, 1689–1691: A study of his strategic thinking and decision-making, p. 106.

[52] ‘… the King of England has no correspondence in England, nor in Scotland.’ D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 4 April 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, p. 50.

[53] ‘The people and the nobility of Ireland are also convinced that this is the only opportunity they can have to regain their freedom…’ D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 4 April 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, p. 50.

[54] D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 14 April 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, pp. 50–54.

[55] D’Avaux to Louvois on 16 April 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, p. 77.

[56] D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 6 May 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, p. 111.

[57] D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 27 May 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, pp. 183–85.

[58] Louis XIV to d’Avaux on 24 May 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, p. 239; Louvois to d’Avaux on 13th June 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, pp. 271–72.

[59] D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 6 August 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, pp. 341–42.

[60] D’Avaux to Louis XIV on 14 August 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, pp. 378–79.

[61] Louis XIV to d’Avaux on 29 June 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, pp. 409–10.

[62] Louvois to d’Avaux on 11 November 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, p. 585.

[63] ‘…. he is not strong enough to bear the weight of the matters he is in charge of.’ D’Avaux to Croissy on 22 December 1689 in d’Avaux, Négociations… en Irlande…, p. 618.

[64] Lynn, The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667-1714, p. 253.

[65] Lynn, The Wars of Louis XIV, 1667-1714, pp. 267-70.

 

 

 

‘Vermin and Devil-Worshippers’: Exploring Witch Identities in Popular Print in Early Modern Germany and England

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Author Biography

Natalie Grace is a History PhD student at the University of Nottingham researching witchcraft in print in Germany and England. She is funded by the Midlands4Cities DTP and supervised by Dr David Gehring and Dr Simone Laqua-O’Donnell.

Twitter: @Witchy_Nat

Midlands4Cities VPP: https://www.midlands4cities.ac.uk/student_profile/natalie-grace/

Abstract

This paper compares the creation of witch identities in news reports about witchcraft printed in Germany and England (1560 – 1650). The scale of witch-hunts and witchcraft reports differed dramatically in Germany and England. This difference, however, masks similarities in the created identities of witches in both countries. Both sometimes overlooked male witches, a decision shaped by reporters’ need to engage readers with sensational stories. Witch identities in both countries were always fluid, although this fluidity was especially evident during periods of intense witch-hunting. Ultimately, a diabolic connection and evil nature were the defining characteristics of witches in both Germany and England. In portraying the witch as a diabolic other – as ‘vermin and devil-worshippers’ – the pamphleteers in Germany and England created an enemy against whom Christian readers could unite.

Keywords: witchcraft, Germany, England, early modern, identity, sex, gender, crime, news, popular print, diabolism

‘Vermin and Devil-Worshippers’: Exploring Witch Identities in Popular Print in Early Modern Germany and England

Who, or what, is a witch? Belief in witches and witchcraft can be found, in some form, throughout history across the globe.[1] Yet a scholarly consensus on what exactly defines a witch remains elusive. Even contemporaries during the early modern European witch-hunts – which claimed the lives of roughly 45,000 people between the fifteenth and eighteenth centuries – struggled to find a coherent definition of a witch.[2] The difference of opinion was not a simple separation between so-called ‘popular’ and ‘elite’ thinking. Rather, ideas about witches and witchcraft varied significantly at every level of society. Historians have long been interested in untangling the complex web of meanings surrounding witchcraft, but extant sources pose a problem when trying to explore the identity of the witches themselves. Even witches’ confessions, recorded in trial documents and news reports in the first person, are not unmediated windows on their thoughts and feelings.[3] Trial records are full of silences. Since questions were not often recorded, identifying leading questions and when the questioner has shaped the answers is challenging. Records of trials, whether they be court documents or news reports, often underwent significant editing, translation, and shaping to present a coherent narrative.[4] Some scholars argue that, by seeking signs of resistance in the records, it is possible to identify some semblance of the witch’s own ideas and agency.[5] This article, however, explores how the identity of the witch was constructed and created by others – namely, the writers and printers of witchcraft news reports.

This article examines such reports about witchcraft, from Germany and England, between 1560 and 1650. The witch-hunts in Germany and England could both be considered exceptional for different reasons. Germany – or, more properly, the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation – has been dubbed ‘the heartland of the witch craze’ and ‘the mother of witches’: approximately 25,000 people were executed for the crime of witchcraft there.[6] The picture in England was different: around 1000 people were tried, and approximately 500 executed by hanging.[7] For some scholars, the comparatively mild approach to witch-hunting, and what they view as a lack of popular acceptance of the diabolic nature of witchcraft – that is, the notion that witches’ power was derived from making a pact with the Devil and Devil-worship marked England out as distinct from mainland Europe.[8] Of course, the suggestion that either was exceptional implies that there were norms of witch-hunting in other parts of Europe, but decades of detailed witchcraft research demonstrate that every country and region had its own idiosyncrasies in its approaches to witch-hunting. While the scale of witch-hunting differed considerably in Germany and England, the two countries also shared several characteristics. Both experienced significant religious upheaval, because of the Reformation. They also experienced significant political upheaval in the form of civil strife and warfare, including the Thirty Years’ War in central Europe (1618 – 1648) and the British Civil Wars (1642 – 1651).[9]  As will become clear in this paper, these periods of conflict coincided with significant witch-hunts in the respective countries. Both also had vibrant print industries. In England, this industry was concentrated primarily (although not solely) in London, while in Germany several print centres emerged including Augsburg, Nuremberg, Erfurt, Leipzig, and Cologne. These print centres, coupled with developments in communication networks, and cheaper production of paper, led to a growing popular print industry by the second half of the sixteenth century.[10]

The news reports on witchcraft discussed here were part of this wider growth in print. More specifically, they belong to the genre of crime reporting, alongside reports of other lurid and serious crimes such as murder. They were printed in the form of short pamphlets (approximately eight pages), chapbooks, single-sheet broadsheets, and ballads. Such documents often claimed to be ‘truthful’ (wahrhaftig) and ‘authentic’ (glaubwürdig), but they were not objective factual reports.[11] Rather, they were literary constructions, moulded by their authors (who were, in most cases, anonymous) to appeal to their readers and to present certain perspectives. Such representation was only indirectly related to actual events; pamphlets and ballads tended to report only the most sensational and atypical cases because they were likely to attract buyers.[12] It should not be assumed, therefore, that these accounts are simply reflections of existing ideas. The value of these sources for studying witchcraft in Germany has been demonstrated by Wolfgang Behringer, Harald Sipek, Ursula-Maria Krah, Robert Walinski-Kiehl, and Abaigéal Warfield.[13] Similar arguments have been made by Barbara Rosen, Marion Gibson, Carla Suhr, James Sharpe, and Charlotte-Rose Millar regarding witchcraft in England.[14] Witch news reports were accessible to a wider audience than the learned treatises that have often been the focus of witchcraft research; they were cheaper, shorter, and often illustrated or written with a tune to be sung aloud, ensuring that their message could be disseminated beyond the literate elite. They offer, therefore, the opportunity to explore what the wider populace learned about witchcraft. Millar has recently demonstrated the importance of these sources for exploring witch identities, offering an insight into male witches in English witchcraft pamphlets and highlighting the need for diabolism to be integrated into our understanding of English witchcraft.[15]

While this essay echoes Millar’s conclusions, it goes further by closely comparing German and English witch identities. Such comparison has not been undertaken previously. Comparative research remains rare in witchcraft scholarship, despite notable studies including the works of Johannes Dillinger, Laura Stokes, and Louise Nyholm Kallestrup demonstrating the merits of the approach.[16] Historiographical reviews of both English and German witchcraft note the potential for comparative work to yield new insights.[17]  This study provides convincing evidence for commonalities between German and English witch identities, while acknowledging and explaining differences. In doing so, it deepens our understanding of witchcraft in both countries, provides a framework to consider overarching trends in a way that is not possible with regional case studies, and highlights the potential of comparative research in the field of witchcraft. It asks what characteristics pamphleteers in both countries considered to be quintessential to the witch. It also considers how the genre of crime reporting and the intentions and priorities of pamphleteers shaped their approach to witch identities.

The essay is divided into four parts. Part one investigates pamphleteers’ approach to sex and gender, aspects of witch identity central in the historiography; part two considers how the need for sensational and shocking stories influenced the choices made by pamphleteers, and compares a sensational case that was reported in both countries; part three looks at the wider witch identity and considers the extent to which the identity broke down during times of intense witch-hunting; finally, part four shows the centrality of diabolism and evil nature in the witch identity, and argues that the moralistic and religious tone of the pamphlets explains their emphasis on these characteristics. Ultimately, the essay demonstrates that, while they are not identical, there are clear overlaps in the witch identities created by German and English pamphleteers.

What the Devil cannot do himself he does through an old woman’: Sex and Gender in Witchcraft Reports

In Germany and England, the female criminal was an anomaly, although the percentage of men and women prosecuted varied in different localities. According to Jeanette Kamp, some major European cities such as London, Leiden, and Glasgow had relatively high proportions of female criminals (30 to 50 percent), but others, such as Frankfurt am Main, had a much lower rate of female prosecution (22 percent).[18] Nevertheless, the majority of those who were officially prosecuted were men.[19] Men and women were also traditionally accused of different crimes. Men were the chief offenders in major crimes including treason, heresy, and murder. Women tended to be involved in crimes which undermined public order, such as slander, scolding, sexual impropriety, or property offences.[20] Two serious crimes, however, were closely associated with women: infanticide and witchcraft. In England, 90 percent of those executed for witchcraft were women.[21] In Germany, the figure was closer to 80 percent, although this masks significant regional variations across the Empire.[22]

The connection between witches and women has prompted much debate. In the 1960s and ‘70s, second-wave feminists viewed the witch as evidence of the longstanding oppression of women by patriarchal structures. Andrea Dworkin and Mary Daly argued that the witch-hunts were ‘gynocide’, claimed erroneously that the hunts cost the lives of nine million women, and suggested that the high proportion of widows and spinsters among the accused is evidence that witch-hunts targeted women ‘whose crime [was] independence’.[23] These claims have been criticised for their ahistorical use of terms such as misogyny and patriarchy, neglect of archival evidence, and their refusal to treat male witches as a worthy subject of investigation.[24] They did, however, highlight the need to investigate relationships across sex, gender, and witchcraft properly. Subsequent explorations have added depth and nuance to our understanding of the connections.[25] Significant work has been done to integrate male witches and masculinities into discussions.[26] Considerations of gender and witchcraft also increasingly emphasise the need to move away from simple binaries, and to explore ‘how and to what extent gender was intrinsic to the identity of the witch’.[27]

Julian Goodare suggests that different ideas about witches and women existed at learned and popular levels.[28] Because witchcraft news reports appealed to both learned and popular audiences, it is worth considering how they navigated the relationship between witchcraft and women. The majority of German and English news reports published between 1560 and 1650 solely discuss female witches. Woodcut illustrations – important because they communicated ideas to illiterate or semi-literate audiences – feature primarily women. The Examination and Confession of Certaine Witches (1566), for example, which warned its readers about ‘feminine dames […] whom sathan hath infect’, included depictions of each of the three women who feature in the text.[29] Another, A Rehearsall Both Straung and True (1579), contains two depictions of women feeding animals or alongside demon-like creatures.[30] In Germany, the title page of A Truthful Report from the Town of Osnabrück (1588) shows a woman, whose crooked stance and supporting stick gives her an aged appearance, reaching out to a scaly, horned creature, presumably the Devil.[31] The image bears a resemblance to the woodcut showing a woman and the Devil embracing in Ulrich Molitor’s Of Witches and Diviner Women (first published 1489), indicating perhaps that printers took inspiration in their depictions of witches from learned treatises.[32] Another German woodcut, on the title page of A Truthful Report Concerning Wicked Witches (1571) shows four women, naked or barely dressed, with long flowing hair, gathered around a cooking pot with bones strewn on the ground around them.[33] The nakedness, loose hair, and the cooking pot are all symbols which Charles Zika suggests represented the connection between witchcraft and women in art during the late fifteenth century.[34] These features once again indicate that ideas about witches and women from other learned sources were adopted and disseminated in these pamphlets. The connection between witches and women is not restricted to visual imagery. It is sometimes explicitly stated in the text. Several German reports from the late 1570s and early 1580s, for example, include the phrase ‘as the old saying goes, what the devil cannot do himself, he does through an old woman’.[35] This statement, presented as received wisdom, implies that writers were simply reflecting a popular notion that old women were in league with the Devil and were, therefore, archetypal witches.

Yet it is important not to take such statements at face value. Some pamphleteers appear to have actively curated an image of the witch as exclusively female, disregarding the facts of the events that they were reporting. Of the 72 reports surveyed for this paper, 24 (thirteen English and eleven German) include references to men accused of or executed for the crime of witchcraft. In some cases, however, male witches are relatively downplayed or overlooked. The clearest example is two English pamphlets from 1579 discussing a trial in Windsor. The first is A Rehearsall Straung and True. This pamphlet names ‘fower notorious witches’ on its title page: Elizabeth Stile alias Rockingham, Mother Dutten, Mother Devell, and Mother Margaret.[36] The text provides the testimony of Elizabeth Stile, who begins by naming other witches. The first name she gives is Father Rosimond.[37] Father Rosimond reappears later in Elizabeth’s confession, as she describes meeting with the other witches to perform ‘heinous and vilanous practices’: he is, once again, the first person she names.[38] A Brief Treatise Containing the Most Strange and Horrible Cruelty of Elizabeth Stile alias Rockingham and her Confederates (1579) discusses the same events. It is written by Richard Galis, an apparent first-hand victim of the witches. Galis also refers to Father Rosimond. He describes seeking Father Rosimond’s advice about suspected sorcery and witchcraft, indicating that Father Rosimond acted as a cunning man.[39] Galis reports that Elizabeth named ‘diverse men as well as women, that used to do much harm by sorcery, witchcraft, and enchantments.’[40] In both pamphlets, however, Elizabeth’s naming of Father Rosimond as a witch is downplayed in the overall narrative. The pamphlets inform readers that Elizabeth and three other women that she named were executed, but Father Rosimond’s fate remains unclear. Galis’s choice of language makes his position clear. He talks of how the ‘sisters’ gathered to perform their sorcery – a gathering at which Elizabeth states Father Rosimond was present – and, in his conclusion, warns his readers about the ‘daughters of the devil’.[41] The reader is left with the distinct impression that witches are women.

A similar technique can be observed in a German pamphlet – A True and Authentic Report: How 225 Women were Burned in the Year 1582 – which reported numerous witch trials in the south of the Empire. The word choice in the title is significant. The writer used the German Weiber which translates as ‘women’ or, alternatively, ‘hags’.[42] Different terms which include both men and women, such as Unholden (fiends), appear in other German pamphlet titles.[43] The choice of Weiber here suggests that the author of this pamphlet wanted to place emphasis on the fact that the witches were female despite the fact that within the text there are scattered references to male witches. Indeed, the report states that ‘44 women and three men’ were captured and burned in the county of Montbéliard.[44] It also mentions a male sorcerer (Hexenmeister) in Colmar.[45] At the end of the report, however, the author warns of Satan’s power over ‘his weak instruments of the female sex’.[46] Evidently, this pamphlet’s author felt that sex was a defining component of witch identity. In both English and German sources, then, there is a clear emphasis on female witches and male witches’ roles are downplayed. Why exactly did pamphleteers in both countries choose to emphasise female witches in this way?

‘The most monstrous act that ever man heard of’: Sensationalism and shock in the shaping of witch identities

The attention given to female witches can be explained, at least partially, by the conventions of the crime reporting genre to which these sources belong. Alongside claims to be ‘truthful’, reports emphasise the shocking nature of their stories using terms like ‘wonderful’, ‘strange’, and ‘terrifying’.[47] The juxtaposition of truth and shock leads Warfield to characterise such sources as ‘a forerunner for our own modern-day fascination with “true crime” series and documentaries’.[48] Attention-grabbing headlines ensured the purchase of the pamphlet in an increasingly competitive market; put another way, they were the early modern equivalent of ‘clickbait’. Andrew Pettegree suggests that there was ‘a particular fascination with the crimes of women […] because they were so rare’.[49] Several scholars have noted that the audience for such cheap print was ‘socially variegated’ and ‘assumed a broad social consensus of shared values’.[50] Yet the people most likely to purchase these documents, especially in the earlier years of the period examined here – and the audience, therefore, that printers were particularly seeking to entice – were ‘the literate upper levels of early modern society.’[51] For members of this stratum of society who had achieved some level of security and comfort, news pamphlets like these witchcraft reports ‘spoke to [their] deepest fears of attacks on established social and gender hierarchies.’[52] Reporting on witchcraft offered an ideal opportunity for pamphleteers and printers to tap into the market for dramatic tales of women who had contravened societal norms, which may go some way to explaining why writers chose to only mention female witches in the titles of their pamphlets in the examples above. Criminal women were more sensational than criminal men, and the reports on such women nurtured the anxieties of upper-class men who sought to maintain their positions within the social order.

The role of sensationalism in moulding the witch identities in these reports is illustrated by the fact that, where male witches do feature prominently, the stories were especially sensational and shocking. Both German and English reports discussing male witches accuse them of a litany of dreadful crimes. The English pamphlet discussing Lewis Gaufredy, a French priest who was convicted for witchcraft, emphasises his duplicitousness and how he used his diabolic powers to seduce and rape women.[53] A German pamphlet reporting the prosecution of a family of witches, but primarily focusing on the men in the family, accused them not only of witchcraft, but also multiple counts of murder, theft, and arson.[54] The case of Peter Stumpf, who was executed in Bedburg near Cologne in 1589, is particularly sensational. Alongside sorcery, Stumpf was accused of child-murder, incestuous rape, and cannibalism. His crimes obviously captured the European imagination. Alongside four surviving German reports, his story was translated and printed in Dutch, Danish, and English.[55] The English version, printed in London in 1590, claims to be a translation from a German copy, but does not match any of the extant versions.[56] The survival rate for such ephemeral literature is extremely low, so it is possible that the source text for the translation has simply not survived. It is, however, also plausible that the author simply claimed it was a translation to lend legitimacy to the account, a common tactic when reporting foreign news.[57]

The survival of German and English examples of this case offers a rare opportunity to directly compare witch reporting and the creation of witch identities in the two countries. The extant German copies are three broadsheets (all written in verse) and one pamphlet; the English version is a pamphlet.[58] There are some similarities across the five sources. All report Stumpf’s crimes, including the murder of thirteen children, eating his son’s brain, and sleeping with his daughter. All proclaim the incredible nature of the tale: one German broadsheet talks of Stumpf’s ‘unspeakable shame and vice’, while another claims his story is ‘too terrifying to hear’; the English pamphlet reports that Stumpf ‘did more mischeefe and cruelty then would be credible, although high Germany hath been forced to talke the truth thereof.’[59] Both the German and the English texts give the impression that Stumpf was, in a twisted way, a celebrity. One of the broadsheets is written from Stumpf’s own perspective, offering a vicarious insight into the imagined mindset of a serial killer.[60] The English version describes him as a ‘most wicked sorcerer’.[61] According to Sara Barker, focusing the story on a central character was a common technique in news reporting, allowing the reader to create a personal connection.[62]

There are, however, some differences. As Warfield has observed, the English version is far more detailed than any of the German accounts.[63] Comparing the German pamphlet with the English one, the German account spends just two of eight pages discussing Stumpf, before moving on to discuss witch trials happening elsewhere.[64] The English pamphlet devotes nineteen pages solely to discussing Stumpf, providing far more detail about his life, his deeds, failed attempts to capture him, and his final demise. The English pamphlet is particularly hyperbolic in its descriptions of Stumpf: he is ‘a most wicked sorcerer’, he lusted after his daughter ‘most unnaturally, and cruelly committed most wicked incest with her’, and the murder and cannibalisation of his son was ‘the most monstrous act that ever man heard of.’[65]

The extra detail provided in the English report may partially be to aid the reliability of the report, given the foreign origins of the tale. Yet this level of detail and hyperbole is also found in other English witch reports examined for this paper. Similar exaggerations are found in the news ballad from 1628 reporting the murder of Doctor Lambe, an associate of the Duke of Buckingham who was widely believed to be a sorcerer: the ballad describes him as ‘the Devill of our nation’ and states that ‘such a wicked wretch/in England hath liv’d seldom’.[66] These hyperbolic descriptions are not reserved for male witches. In Thomas Potts’s report on the witches of Lancaster, published in 1613, he describes the witchcraft performed there by both male and female witches as ‘the most barbarous and damnable practices’, and labels one of the accused witches, Elizabeth Demdike, as ‘the most dangerous and malitious witch’.[67] Another early English report from 1592 is titled A Most Wicked Worke of a Wretched Witch (the like whereof none can record these manie yeeres in England.).[68] The length of English witch reports is also notable. While the vast majority of the German reports examined for this paper were between eight and sixteen pages long, the length of the English reports varies considerably. It is not uncommon for English witch reports to devote several pages to the description of each individual witch’s character and misdeeds.[69]

The differences between the German and English pamphlets discussing the Stumpf case are, therefore, indicative of a wider difference between German and English witch reports, and one which has a significant impact on the way they treat witch identities and construct sensational stories: scale. In the German version, Stumpf is a case that, while admittedly notable because of his sex and the severity of his crimes, is one of multiple cases of witchcraft across the Empire. The discussion is, therefore, fairly brief. Most German pamphlets report the trials and executions of multiple witches in different regions; they do not tend to focus heavily on individuals’ motivations and lives, but instead emphasise the widespread devastation and threat posed by the witches collectively. The sensationalism which printers needed to sell their stories comes, in these instances, from the extensive and growing nature of the problem. English witch reports, by contrast, tend to report on only one trial in a particular locality and, consequently, they spend more time discussing the individuals involved in the trials. The sensationalism in these reports is more tied to individuals’ failures to conform to societal norms. As a result, the individual witch identity appears more important and more stable in the English pamphlets than it does in the German reports. Yet what characteristics formed part of this identity, and how far were these identities truly fixed in either country?

‘Men and women, young and old, poor and rich’: Breakdown of the Witch Identity

Thus far this article has explored gendering and sensationalism in print. Sex and the gendering of witch identity have dominated historical discussions. In examining the pamphlets, it is clear that they are also the individual characteristics that both English and German witch pamphlets most commonly make reference to: even if German sources discuss large groups of witches, the gendering of the language chosen gives some indication as to the sex of the witches. Historians have, however, highlighted that witch identities were multifaceted.[70]  Historians of both German and English witchcraft have, for example, noted a high proportion of old women among the accused.[71] In many cases, the specific age of the witch is not mentioned in the pamphlets examined for this paper. Yet often when age is mentioned the accused is notably old. A New Report from Bernburg (1580), for example, discusses ‘three old women’, one of whom was 90 years old.[72] Another German account discussing a witch and a Jesuit claims that the witch was 73 years old.[73] In England, Elizabeth Stile – discussed above – was 65 years old.[74] In The Apprehension and Confession of Three Notorious Witches (1589), the only person whose age is recorded is Joan Cunney (80 years old).[75] According to Raisa Maria Toivo, descriptions of witches as old, poor, or lame ‘may have been made to fit the popular notion of how a witch should be rather than a genuinely accurate portrayal.’[76] The way that pamphleteers provide information about the age of the accused when they are particularly old, and are silent on the ages of other witches, supports Toivo’s suggestion that such sources created an idea of what witches ought to have been (in the eyes of the intended audience) rather than simply reflecting reality.

Poverty is another characteristic mentioned by Toivo. This characteristic is also not mentioned by pamphleteers as frequently as sex or gender, but some English pamphlets do draw a clear connection between poverty, lack of education, and witchcraft, as The Witches of Northamptonshire (1612) demonstrates. The author states that those tempted into witchcraft are ‘of the meanest, and the basest sort both in birth and breeding, so are they the most uncapable of any instruction to the contrary’.[77] One witch, Agnes Brown, is described as ‘of poore parentage and poorer education’; another, Arthur Bill, is labelled ‘a wretched, poor man, both in state and mind.’[78] Perhaps because of the differences in scale of the events they are describing, the German pamphlets do not emphasise poverty in the same way. More often, German reports state that witches were ‘poor and rich’.[79] References to rich, handsome, and stately witches can also be found in several German pamphlets in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries.[80] These examples indicate that the German witch identity was broader and more malleable that its English counterpart.

While the witch identity in Germany seems to have been comparatively flexible, some German witchcraft historians have suggested that the stereotype broke down entirely during so-called witch panics.[81] This argument was first made by Hans Christian Erik Midelfort, who focused on the increased number of men among the accused during the large-scale witch-hunts in the southern parts of the Empire in the 1610s and 1620s.[82] The reports published in these decades evoke paranoia and fear in their characterisation of witches. One from 1616 states that ‘men and women, young and old, poor and rich, have been executed and burned because of their witchcraft and sorcery’.[83] Similar sentiments are found in the Certain Account of Witch Burnings in the Territory of Bamberg (1628), which describes how ‘gentlemen as well as women’ were burned, and claims that ‘many are arrested daily […] rich, poor, beautiful, men, and women.’[84] A year earlier, A True and Thorough Report from the Bishoprics of Würzburg and Bamberg (1627), warned that anyone could be a witch. The pamphlet opens by lamenting the discovery of ‘many witch men and women’ (vil Hexen Mann und Weib) and explains that  family members could not be certain about whether their relatives were witches.[85] It lists the professions of several witches, including a grocer (ein Kramer), a butcher (ein Metzger), a tanner (ein Gerber), and a schoolmaster (ein Schulmeister).[86]  Taken together, these pamphlets appear to reflect a change in the witch stereotype because pamphleteers specifically emphasised the diverse characteristics of those accused of witchcraft, rather than isolating particular traits.

England never experienced witch-hunts on the same scale as those in Germany. There was, nevertheless, a peak in witch-hunting during the 1640s due to a breakdown of law linked to the British Civil Wars and the zealous witch-hunting of Matthew Hopkins and John Stearne.[87] 100 people were executed in the East Anglia trials, carried out by Hopkins and Stearne in Essex, Suffolk, and Norfolk between 1645 and 1647; this figure amounts to a fifth of the total witchcraft executions in England across the early modern period.[88] During these trials, witch reports also reflect a shift in witch identities away from the old, poor, ill-educated woman. More male witches feature in pamphlets published during this decade than any other time.[89] One 1643 report begins by stating that ‘many are in a belief, that this silly sex of women can by no means attaine to that so vile and damned a practise of sorcery, and Witch-craft, in regard of their illiteratenesse and want of learning, which many men have by great learning done.’[90] That the author deemed it necessary to justify the existence of female witches suggests there has been a significant change in thought about what witchcraft is and who can perform it. Another pamphlet, printed in 1645, lists the trials of several groups of witches in various parts of England including Norfolk and Suffolk. This pamphlet, commenting on numerous trials, is more in keeping with the German style of witch reporting than the English, an indication of the shift in scale of witch-hunting in England.[91] In one of the cases reported in this pamphlet, the witch is not an impoverished old woman but is instead described as ‘a gentlewoman or a great lady’.[92]

How far do these examples truly represent a breakdown of the witch stereotype? As Alison Rowlands notes, male witches exist outside major witch-panics; similarly, many other characteristics highlighted in the examples from the 1610s and 20s are present in earlier reports.[93] It may be unusual to see so many varied characteristics side-by-side as they are in the German reports from the 1610s and 20s, but the potential for the broader witch identity is arguably present throughout the reports, as illustrated above. When the wider corpus of German witch reports is considered, the witch stereotype – that is, the idea that the witch identity was largely fixed and narrowly defined as an old, poor, socially-isolated woman – seems to be an illusion. This period represents, rather than a breakdown of the stereotype, an intensification of the enduring flexibility of the German witch identity. Scholars of English witchcraft have expressed similar misgivings about the extent to which the trials of the 1640s can be truly considered atypical. Sharpe argues that, in fact, ‘the alleged witches […] were firmly in the English mainstream’, and Millar agrees that while the period was unusual it did not include anything that had not previously appeared in witchcraft print.[94] The broader witch identities shown in the 1640s English pamphlets are arguably an amalgamation of the possible identities that appear in earlier pamphlets. One of the earliest English pamphlets, published in 1566, features a man accused of witchcraft and argues that ‘not onely simple people have been falsely seduced and superstitiously led’, foreshadowing the emphasis on learned and elite individuals seen in the 1640s pamphlets.[95]

Close analysis of the witch reports from both countries indicates, therefore that the periods of crisis in each respective country unlocked the potential, which had always been present, for flexible witch identities. While some individual characteristics were more closely associated with witchcraft at certain points or in certain reports, the association was not consistent over time. The lack of consensus on which individual characteristics were synonymous with witchcraft that emerges in these pamphlets is actually logical. The ambiguity of the witch is a significant factor in its power to inspire fear. By failing to tie the witch to any one group of society, the news reports contribute to the sense that witchcraft was ever-present and posed a significant threat to all. The role of fear in shaping witch identities explains why they were at their most flexible at times of heightened anxiety about witchcraft. The adaptability of the witch identity is perhaps more obvious in the German reports because of their tendency to focus on several trials at once, meaning individual pamphlets can reflect a diverse range of individuals accused of witchcraft. Individual English pamphlets may create the illusion of a fixed witch identity, but by considering the corpus as a whole, it becomes clear that the situation was more complex.

A witch is one that worketh by the Devil’: Diabolic Identities

Although German and English witch reports did not link witches to one social group, comparison shows that there was a characteristic which pamphleteers in both countries considered quintessential to the witch identity: the witch’s connection with the Devil and their fundamentally evil nature. The connection between witchcraft, diabolism, and heresy is well-established in German scholarship. Imperial law, codified in the Constitutio Criminalis Carolina or Carolina Code (1532), distinguished between harmful and non-harmful magic and only punished the former with death.[96] In practice, however, territorial rulers across the Empire introduced their own legal codes concerning witchcraft. Laws introduced in the Electorate of Saxony in 1572, for example, stated that sorcery was forbidden in the Bible and that ‘those who make a pact with the devil – even if they harm no one with their sorcery – must be executed by fire’.[97] In England, the exact connection between diabolism, witchcraft, and heresy is disputed. Like the Carolina Code, the Elizabethan Witchcraft Act (1563) distinguished between those who performed harmful and non-harmful magic, punishing the former with death on their second offence.[98] The act refers to the existence of ‘many fantasticall and devilishe persons’ but does not specifically link witchcraft with devil-worship.[99] The Jacobean Witchcraft Act (1604) called for ‘more severe punishing’ and removed the distinction between harmful and non-harmful magic.[100] This act mentions consulting with evil and wicked spirits but stops short of placing diabolism at the centre of witchcraft.[101] Clive Holmes suggests that the courts were primarily concerned with ‘harm rather than heresy’, a distinction which seems to suggest significant difference between German and English conceptions of witchcraft.[102]

Recently, however, scholars including Millar and Sharpe have used witchcraft pamphlets to argue that the centrality of diabolism to popular English witch beliefs needs to be re-examined. Sharpe suggests that Christina Larner’s notion of a ‘popular demonic’, the development of well-rooted popular demonology in Scotland, can also be found in England.[103] Millar argues that understanding the role played by diabolism in English witchcraft is key to incorporating male witches into the broader paradigm, because both male and female witches were ultimately defined by their relationship with demonic familiars (a spirit – often in the form of a domestic animal – that made a bond with the witch and did their bidding).[104] The pamphlets certainly draw a clearer connection between the Devil and witchcraft than the statutes. A True and Just Recorde (1582) offers a particularly stark example: the author is openly critical of the leniency of English law, describing witches as ‘that hellish liverie’ and labelling witchcraft ‘a devilish and damnable practice.’[105] They praise ‘magistrates of forren lands’ for treating witchcraft with the severity it deserves.[106] Gibson has noted that this pamphlet is unusual because it specifically draws on ideas from mainland Europe.[107] Yet it is far from the only English pamphlet to consider witchcraft tantamount to heresy and devil-worship. The Witches of Northamptonshire (1612), for instance, offers this definition of witchcraft:

‘A witch is one that worketh by the Devill, or by some Devillish or Curious act, either hurting or healing, revealing things secret, or foretelling things to come, which the Devill hath devised to entangle, and to snare men’s souls withal unto damnation.’[108]

These ideas are remarkably similar to German reports which frequently label witches as ‘devil-worshippers’, the ‘devil’s servants’, or ‘instruments of the Devil’. The connection to the Devil is more explicit in the German reports, often featuring descriptions of meetings between the Devil and groups of witches. Such meetings with the Devil in human form are rare in English pamphlets outside of 1645-50, although the familiar arguably performs a similar role. Additionally, a similar providential explanation for witches’ power exists in German and English reports. In Germany, Lutz’s Concerning Wicked Witches outlines the hierarchy within which witches operate. The hierarchy is as follows: the primary cause of misfortune in God, who permits; the secondary cause is Satan, who brings the misfortune about; the third is the witches, who consent and cooperate with Satan.[109] An analogous explanation of witches’ power is found in the English The Wonderful Discoverie of the Witchcrafts of Margaret and Phillip Flower (1619), which states that ‘divers impious and facinorous [i.e. extremely wicked] mischiefs have been effectuated through the instruments of the Diuell, by the permission of God.’[110]

Clearly, then, not only are Millar and Sharpe correct in their identification of diabolism in English witchcraft pamphlets, but this comparative study demonstrates that there are evident parallels in the characterisation of witches and their connection with the Devil in England and Germany. These resemblances can also be seen in the German and English witch reports’ emphasis on the evil and disruptive nature of the witch. Many English witches are portrayed as outsiders, disliked by their community and driven by revenge. An early English report, for example, describes the examination and confession of three women accused of witchcraft: Elizabeth Francis, Agnes Waterhouse, and Joan Waterhouse.[111] Elizabeth and Agnes are both described as living ‘unquietly’ with their respective spouses, and confess to disposing of their husbands with Satan’s aid; Agnes and Joan both confess to using their witchcraft to take revenge on neighbours who had refused them charity.[112] These descriptions are typical of the deviant quality associated with witches in the English sources. Although the German pamphlets focus more on groups of witches rather than individuals, their wickedness and evil nature is unmistakable. Several pamphlets discuss the witches’ plots to harm and kill people. The idea that witches particularly target babies, new mothers, and older people – presented in many pamphlets including the Expanded Witch Report (1590) – serves to emphasise their implicit wickedness because of their decision to target the weak, innocent, and most vulnerable members of society.[113] Johannes Dillinger suggests that, rather than seeking commonalities in the social characteristics of those accused of witchcraft, scholars should consider that the individual’s reputation for conflict or disruption was the key to their identification as a witch: he terms this the ‘Evil People Paradigm’.[114] A similar argument has been put forward by Rowlands, who argues that the idea of the witch as a ‘bad neighbour’ is ‘a more useful conceptual category than that of the masculine or feminine “other”’.[115] Comparison of English and German witch reports supports the validity of these arguments, suggesting that a person’s moral background and bad nature were central to the witch identity in both countries.

The notion of a diabolic, wholly evil sect was undoubtedly shocking, and as sensationalism has been emphasised throughout the printed works examined here, it is probable that this factor played some role in the ways that witches were characterised. Yet, while sensationalism was important to engage readers, the role of these pamphlets was not merely to entertain. It is unlikely that anyone could have to survived solely on profits made from writing these news pamphlets; it is also unlikely, therefore, that such pamphlets were written purely for commercial gain.[116] Why, then, were these pamphlets written, and how does this influence their construction of witch identities? Several scholars have noted that crime pamphlets, including witchcraft reports, were moralistic and didactic, bearing a close resemblance to sermons in the way that the stories they reported had a clear moral message for their readers.[117] This moral purpose is crucial to understanding the focus of the pamphleteers. These pamphlets did not simply seek to report events, but also to instruct their readers on sinful behaviour, to remind them of the cosmic struggle between God and his foes, and to exhort them to good Christian living.[118] The German and English witch pamphlets often contain laments about sin, other crimes, and the state of the world, and commonly conclude with calls to God to protect them against the ‘tricks and wiles of the Devil and his followers’.[119] The witches are portrayed as a threatening infestation; such ideas are neatly encapsulated in the Expanded Witch Report, which claims that ‘nearly every city, market, and town in all of Germany […] is full of these vermin and devil-worshippers’.[120] Similar rhetoric can be found in an English pamphlet which describes how God ‘weeds [the witches] out in every cell they lurke’.[121] Witch pamphlets in both Germany and England ultimately construct witch identities in a very similar way, with the diabolic connections and evil nature of the witch at the centre of their identity. In doing so, the pamphleteers construct the witch as a wholly evil, diabolic other, acting as a foil for the good Christian readers to whom they appealed and sought to influence.

Conclusion

This article has explored the creation and shaping of witch identities in German and English witch reports from 1560 to 1650. The topic is challenging and complex, making it impossible to cover every aspect of the witch identity sufficiently here. Many other areas would benefit from further exploration. It would be interesting, for example, to examine how the pamphlets in the two countries explained the act of becoming a witch; is it innate, inherited, or learned? Linking to the notion that witchcraft could be inherited, there is also significant scope to explore the notion of the ‘witch family’, a concept discussed elsewhere and a recurring theme in the reports in both countries. Additionally, the role of reputation, briefly mentioned in this piece as it relates to an individual’s bad nature, could be considered in greater depth.

Nevertheless, this article offers the first comprehensive comparison of these German and English witch reports. This comparative approach offers new insights into commonalities and contrasts in English and German constructions of witch identities that had not previously been fully explored. To allow for sufficient and detailed comparison, it has limited its focus to the aspects of witch identity that have drawn the interest of witchcraft historians and emerge most clearly in the pamphlets from both countries. Undoubtedly, one of the most frequently discussed characteristics of the witch is their sex and gender. In this case, clear similarities emerge in both German and English witch reports. Although most witches prosecuted were women in both countries, part one above demonstrates that, even if male witches were present in the trials, pamphleteers in both countries chose to downplay their role and emphasise instead the feminine connection with witchcraft. This tendency to highlight female witches might have been influenced by the need for the pamphlets to catch the eye of their audience. As part two, and particularly the example of Peter Stumpf, illustrates, pamphleteers would put male witches front and centre in their narratives if the story was especially shocking or sensational. Once again, the idea that sensationalism was a driving force in the writing of witch reports applies to both German and English reports, although the Stumpf case and other English examples indicate that the English reports drew their sensationalism from individual actors more than the German sources did.

This observation draws attention to the differences in scope and scale of the German and English witch reports. These differences, on the surface, had a significant influence on the way that witch identities were presented in the two countries. German sources often discussed larger groups of witches or several different trials in one report; the broader scope of these reports meant that the witch identity emerging from individual reports was often fairly diverse, and not limited to a single social group. This diversity was especially evident during the peak of the trials in the south of the Empire during the 1610s and 20s, but this does not represent a total breakdown of the witch stereotype in German reports. Rather, the fear and anxiety that this period generated brought the diverse witch identities to the forefront of the pamphlets to a greater extent than previously, as pamphleteers sought to remind readers that anyone in their community could be a witch. The English witch reports, tending to focus on a small group of witches or on one isolated trial, give the initial impression of a stronger, fixed witch identity centred on impoverished old women. The reports published in the 1640s at first glance seem to represent a departure from this fixed stereotype. As in Germany, however, this period merely realised the potential for more diverse witch identities that had always been present in the English witch reports. The notion that anyone could be a witch was more threatening than was a more limited notion restricting the witch to a small section of society.

Ultimately, both German and English witch reports considered the same characteristics – a connection to the Devil and a wicked nature – to be definitive components of the witch identity. The diabolic connection is more explicit in the German reports which often feature the Devil as a character and include descriptions of the Devil meeting with witches. Nevertheless, scholars such as Millar and Sharpe are correct to highlight the diabolism present in English witchcraft reports. While diabolism may be more implicit than the German accounts, English witch reports frequently describe the witches and their actions as ‘devilish’. Both German and English reports offer similar explanations for the witches’ power, with God giving permission to the Devil to perform harm, who then employs his witches to wreak havoc. The witches in both countries are also presented as wicked or evil, although the way in which the pamphlets convey this idea differs in England and Germany. The reason for emphasising these wicked and devilish characteristics of the witches is clear in light of the purpose of these pamphlets. In portraying the witch as a diabolic other, as ‘vermin and devil-worshippers’, the pamphleteers in both Germany and England created an enemy against whom good Christian readers could unite.

 

Bibliography

Primary Sources

Printed primary sources

Note: Where available, bibliographical references have been provided to the English Short Title Catalogue (ESTC) in England and the Verzeichnis der im deutschen Sprachbereich erschienenen Drucke des 16. Jahrhunderts (VD16) and the Verzeichnis der im deutschen Sprachraum erschienenen Drucke des 17. Jahrhunderts (VD17) in Germany.

Anon., A Most Certain, Strange, and true Discovery of a Witch (London, 1643). [ESTC R4848]

Anon., A Rehearsall Straung and True, of Hainous and Horrible Actes Committed by Elizabeth Stile alias Rockingham, Mother Dutten, Mother Devell, Mother Margaret, Fower Notorious Witches apprehended at Winsore in the Countie of Berks. (London, 1579). [ESTC S101967]

Anon., A True Discourse. Declaring the Damnable Life and Death of one Stubbe Peeter, a Most Wicked Sorcerer (London, 1590). [ESTC S101735]

Anon., ANNO MDLXXXVI. Ist bey Bedbur ein Zauberer geweßen STUMP PETER genant, welcher sich in einen WOLF verwandelt (s.l., 1589). [No VD16 Catalogue Number]

Anon., Augusten Hertzogen zu Sachsen … Verordnungen und Constitutionen des rechtlichen Process (Dresden, 1572).  [VD16 S 895]

Anon., Des allerdurchleuchtigsten, groszmechtigsten vnüberwindlichsten Keyser Karls des Fünfften, vnd des Heyligen Römischen Reichs peinlich Gerichts ordnung:auff den Reichßtägen zu Augspurg vnd Regenspurg, in jaren dreissig vnd zwey vnd dreissig gehalten, auffgericht vnd beschlossen (Frankfurt am Main, 1562) [VD16 D 1081]

Anon., Ein New kläglich Lied von dem grossen Schaden der Unholden So sie in Westphalen zu Aschenbruegk und andern Orten begangen haben in dem jetztwerenden 1583. Jar (Wesel, 1583). [VD16 ZV 11599]

Anon., Ein Warhafftige und gründliche Beschreibung Auß dem Bistumb Würtz und Bamberg Deßgleichen von dem ganzen Fränkischen Kraiß wie man alda so vil hexen Mann vnd Weibspersohnen verbrennen laßt (S.l., 1627). [No VD17 Catalogue Number]

Anon., Ein Warhafftige Zeitung Von etlichen Hexen oder Unholden welche man kürtzlich im Stifft Mäntz zu Ascheburg, Dipperck,Ostum, Rönßhoffen auch andern Orten verbrendt was Ubels sie gestifft und bekandt haben (Frankfurt am Main, 1603). [VD17 1:691858R]

Anon., En forskreckelig oc sand bescriffuelse om mange troldfolck som ere forbrends for deris misgierninger skyld fra det aar 1589 (Copenhagen, 1591).

Anon., Erweyterte Unholden-Zeitung: Kurze Erzelung wie viel der Unholden hin vnd wider/ sonderlich inn dem Obern Teutschland/ gefängklich eingezogen (Ulm, 1590). [VD16 E 3889]

Anon., Gewisser Bericht des Truten und Hexenbrennens Bambergischen Gebiets wie lang es gewehrt: Was für ubels ihrer Außsag nach sie viel Jahr hero an Menschen, Vihe, Früchten und andern verübet was allbereit verbrennet (Schmalkalden, 1628). [VD17 23:293541Q]

Anon., Newe Zeitung aus Berneburgk Schrecklich und abschewlich zu hoeren und zu lesen von dreyen alten Teuffels Bulerin Hexin oder Zauberinnen (s.l., 1580). [VD16 N 624]

Anon., Signes and Wonders from Heaven (London, 1645). [ESTC R232297]

Anon., The Apprehension and Confession of Three Notorious Witches. Arreigned and by Justice condemned and executed at Chelmes-forde, in the Countye of Essex, the 5. day of Iulye, last past. 1589 (London, 1589). [ESTC S119280]

Anon., The Examination and Confession of Certaine Wytches at Chensforde in the Countie of Essex (London, 1566). [ESTC S2279]

Anon., The Examination, Confession, Triall, and Execution, of Joane Williford, Joan Cariden, and Jane Hott: who were executed at Feversham in Kent, for being witches, on Munday the 29 of September, 1645 (London, 1645). [ESTC R200303]

Anon., The Examination of John Walsh […] upon certayn interrogatories touchyng wytchcrafte and sorcerye (London, 1566) [ESTC S102100]

Anon., The Life and Death of Lewis Gaufredy (London, 1612). [ESTC S102950]

Anon., The Witches of Northamptonshire Agnes Browne. Ioane Vaughan. Arthur Bill. Hellen Ienkenson. Mary Barber. (London, 1612). [ESTC S115086]

Anon., The Wonderful Discouerie of the Witchcrafts of Margaret and Phillip Flower, daughters of Ioan Flower neere Bever Castle (London, 1619). [ESTC S102363]

Anon., Warhaffte und glaubwirdige Zeytung. Wie man in diesem 1582. Jahr wol in die 200. und fuenff und zweyntzig Weiber verbrant hat (Strasbourg, 1582). [VD16 ZV 29564]

Anon., Warhafftige Newe Zeittung auß dem Land Westvahlen von der Stat Ossenbruck wie man da hat auff einen Tag 133. Unholden verbrendt (s.l., 1588). [VD16 W 337]

Anon., Warhafftige und erschreckliche Beschreibung, von einem Zauberer (Stupe Peter genandt) der sich zu einem Wehrwolff hat können machen (Cologne, 1589). [VD16 W 516]

Anon, Warhafftige unnd Erschreckliche Thatten und Handlungen der Lxiij. Hexen unnd Unholden, so zu Wisenstaig, mit dem Brandt gericht worden seindt (Launigen, 1563). [VD16 W 535]

Anon., Warhafftige und Wunderbarlich Newe Zeitung von einem Pauren der sich durch Zauberey des tags siben stund zu ainen Wolff verwandelt hat (Nuremberg, 1589). [No VD16 Catalogue Number]

Anon., Warhafftige und wunderbarliche Newe Zeitung von einem Bawren der sich durch Zauberey deß Tags siben stunnd zu einem Wolff verwandelt hat (Augsburg, 1589). [No VD16 Catalogue Number]

Anon., Witchcrafts, Strange and Wonderfull: Discovering the Damnable Practices of Seven Witches, against the lives of certaine noble personages, and others of this kingdome, as shall appeare in this lamentable history (London, 1635). [ESTC S92558]

Zwo erschreckliche und unerhörte Geschicht, welches in diesem XCCI Jar geschehen ist auff dem Brockersberg, dar sich ahn die hundert tausend Unholden oder Hexen versamlet (Cologne, 1596). [No VD16 Catalogue Number]

Anon., Zwo Hexenzeitung: Die Erste Auß dem Bisthumb Würtzburg, das ist Gründliche Erzehlung wie der Bishoff zu Würtzburg das Hexenbrennen im Franckenlande angefangen […] die Ander Auß dem Hertzogthumb Würtenburg wie der Hertzog zu Würtenberg in unterschiedlichen Stätten das Hexenbrennen auch angefangen (Tübingen, 1616). [VD17 23:626143G]

Anon., Zwo schröckliche Newe Zeitung, die erste ist von dem grewlichen Elendt, so sich in Aschenburck am Maynstrom von Hexen unnd Unholten geschehen (Giessen, 1612). [No VD17 Catalogue Number]

Anon., Zwo Warhafftige newe Zeitungen […] Die andere Zeitung: Eine abschewliche vnd zuuor nie erhoerte erschreckliche Zaubereyen Moerdt vnnd Diebereyen von Vater Mutter zweyen Soehnen vnd zweyen Toechtermaennern geschehen Welche in … Muenchen im Beyerland sind gefaenglich eingezogen worden (Basel, 1600). [VD16 ZV 21490]

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Galis, R., A Brief Treatise Containing the Most Strange and Horrible Cruelty of Elizabeth Stile alias Rockingham and her Confederates (London, 1579). [ESTC S124945]

Kuntz, H., Newe Zeitung von einer Erschrecklicher That, welche zu Dillingen, von einem Jhesuwider, vnd einer Hexen geschehen ist (Basel, 1579). [VD16 ZV 21532]

Kuntz, H., Newe Zeitung von einer Erschrecklicher That, welche zu Dillingen, von einem Jhesuwider, vnd einer Hexen geschehen ist (Urssel, 1580). [VD16 ZV 28968]

Lutz, R., Warhafftige Zeittung Von Gottlosen Hexen Auch Ketzerischen und Teuffels Weibern die zu Schettstadt deß H. Römischen Reichstadt in Elsaß auf den XXII. Herbstmonat deß 1570 Jahrs von wegen ihrer schändtlichen Teuffelsverpflichtung sind verbrennt (s.l, 1571). [VD16 L 7693]

Molitor, U., Von den Unholden oder Hexen (Augsburg, 1508). [VD16 M 5976]

Parker, M., The Tragedy of Doctor Lambe, / The great suposed Coniurer, who was wounded to death by Saylers / and other Lads, on Fryday the 14. of Iune, 1628. And dyed in the / Poultry Counter, neere Cheapside, on the Saturday morning following (London, 1628). [ESTC S126177]

Potts, T., The Wonderfull Discoverie of Witches in the Countie of Lancaster With the arraignement and triall of nineteene notorious witches (London, 16139). [ESTC S114979]

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[1] R. Hutton, The Witch: A History of Fear, From the Ancient Times to the Present (London, 2017), pp. 41 – 3.

[2] B. P. Levack, The Witch-Hunt in Early Modern Europe (4th edn., London, 2016), p. 23.

[3] L. Kounine, Imagining the Witch: Emotions, Gender, and Selfhood in Early Modern Germany (Oxford, 2018), p. 7.

[4] M. Gibson, Reading Witchcraft: Stories of Early English Witches (London, 1999), pp. 14 and 36 – 7.

[5] G. Warburton, ‘Gender, Supernatural Power, Agency and the Metamorphoses of the Familiar in Early Modern Pamphlet Accounts of English Witchcraft’, Parergon, 20/2 (2003), p. 118.; Kounine, Imagining the Witch, p. 14.

[6] H. C. Erik Midelfort, ‘Heartland of the Witchcraze: Central and Northern Europe’, History Today, 31/2 (1981), p. 27.;  J. Dillinger, ‘Germany – “The Mother of the Witches”, in J. Dillinger (ed.), The Routledge History of Witchcraft (London, 2020), p. 94.

[7] J. Sharpe, ‘Witch Hunts in Britain’, in J. Dillinger (ed.), The Routledge History of Witchcraft (London, 2020), p. 145.

[8] B. Rosen, Witchcraft (London, 1969), p. 19.; Levack, The Witch-Hunt in Early Modern Europe, pp. 8 and 243.

[9] A. A. O Lynn, ‘Ghosts of War and Spirits of Place: Spectral Belief in Early Modern England and Protestant Germany’ (unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Bristol, 2018), p. 5.

[10] A. Pettegree, The Invention of News: How the World Came to Know About Itself (London, 2014), p. 2.; H. Droste, ‘How Public Was the News in Early Modern Times?’, in H. Droste & K. Salmi-Niklander (eds.), Handwritten Newspapers: An Alternative Medium during the Early Modern and Modern Periods (Helsinki, 2019), p. 29.

[11] See, for example: W. W., A True and Just Recorde, of the Information, Examination and Confession of all the Witches, taken at S. Ofes in the countie of Essex (London, 1582).; A Most Certain, Strange, and True Discovery of a Witch (London, 1643).; Warhafftige vnnd Erschreckliche Thatten vnd Handlungen der Lxiij. Hexen vnnd Unholden, so zu Wisenstaig, mit dem Brandt gericht worden seindt (Launigen, 1563).; Warhaffte und Glaubwirdige Zeytung. Wie man in diesem 1582. Jahr wol in die 200. und fuenff und zweyntzig Weiber verbrant hat (Strasbourg, 1582).

[12] S. Clark, Women and Crime in the Street Literature of Early Modern England (London, 2003), p. 35.

[13] W. Behringer, ‘Witchcraft and the Media’, in M. E. Plummer & R. B. Barnes (eds.), Ideas and Cultural Margins in Early Modern Germany: Essays in Honor of H. C. Erik Midelfort (Farnham, 2009), pp. 217 –36.; H. Sipek, ‘Newe Zeitung. Marginalen zur Flugblatt – und Flugschriftenpublizistik sowie zur Druckgraphik im Kontext der Hexenverfolgung’, in S. Lorenz (ed.), Hexen und Hexenverfolgung im Deutschen Südwesten. Aufsatzband (Ostfildern, 1994), pp. 85 – 92.; U. Krah, ‘Fiktionalität und Faktizität in frühneuzeitlichen Kleinschriften (Einblattdrucke und Flugschriften)’, in K. Moeller & B. Schmidt (eds.), Realität und Mythos: Hexenverfolgung und Rezeptionsgeschichte (Hamburg, 2003), pp. 77 – 87.; R. Walinksi-Kiehl, ‘Pamphlets, Propaganda and Witch-Hunting in Germany, 1560 – 1630’, Reformation, 6/1 (2002), pp. 49 – 74.; A. Warfield, ‘The Media Representation of the Crime of Witchcraft in Early Modern Germany: An Investigation of Non-Periodical Newsheets and Pamphlets, 1533-1669’ (unpublished doctoral dissertation, National University of Ireland, Maynooth, 2013).

[14] Rosen, Witchcraft.; Gibson, Reading Witchcraft.; C. Suhr, ‘Portrayal of Attitude in Early Modern English Witchcraft Pamphlets’, Studia Neophilogica, 84/1 (2012), pp. 130 – 42.; J. Sharpe, ‘English Witchcraft Pamphlets and the Popular Demonic’, in J. Goodare, R. Voltmer and L. Helene Willumsen (eds.), Demonology and Witch-Hunting in Early Modern Europe (London, 2020), pp. 127 – 47.; C. Millar, Witchcraft, the Devil, and Emotions in Early Modern England (London, 2017).

[15] C. Millar, ‘Diabolic Men: Reintegrating Male Witches into English Witchcraft’, The Seventeenth Century (2020), pp. 1 – 21.

[16] J. Dillinger, ‘Evil People’: A Comparative Study of Witch Hunts in Swabian Austria and the Electorate of Trier, trans. L. Stokes (Charlottesville, VA, 2009).; L. Stokes, Demons of Urban Reform: Early European Witch Trials and Criminal Justice, 1430–1530 (Basingstoke, 2011).; L. N. Kallestrup, Agents of Witchcraft in Early Modern Italy and Denmark (Basingstoke, 2015).

[17] M. Gaskill, ‘Witchcraft Trials in England’, in B. P. Levack (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Witchcraft in Early Modern Europe and Colonial America (Oxford, 2013), p. 289.; T. Robisheaux, ‘The German Witch Trials’ in B. P. Levack (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Witchcraft in Early Modern Europe and Colonial America (Oxford, 2013), p. 196.

[18] J. Kamp, Crime, Gender and Social Control in Early Modern Frankfurt am Main (Leiden 2019), p. 6.

[19] G. Walker & J. Kermode, ‘Introduction’ in J. Kermode & G. Walker (eds.), Women, Crime and the Courts in Early Modern England (London, 1994), p. 4.

[20] Clark, Women and Crime, p. 34.

[21] Sharpe, ‘Witch Hunts in Britain’, p. 151.

[22] Dillinger, ‘Germany – “The Mother of the Witches”’, p. 97.

[23] A. Dworkin, Woman Hating (New York, NY, 1974), pp. 125 – 50. M. Daly, Gyn/Ecology: The Metaethics of Radical Feminism, with a New Introduction by the author (London, 1991), pp. 179 – 85.

[24] A. Rowlands, ‘Witchcraft and Gender in Early Modern Europe’, in B. P. Levack (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Witchcraft in Early Modern Europe and Colonial America (Oxford, 2013), pp. 451 -3. L. Apps and A. C. Gow, Gender at the Stake: Male Witches in Early Modern Europe (Manchester, 2003), p. 26.

[25] For a historiographical overview, see: Rowlands, ‘Witchcraft and Gender in Early Modern Europe’.

[26] See, for example: Apps and Gow, Gender at the Stake. and R. Schulte, Man as Witch: Male Witches in Central Europe, trans. L. Froome-Döring (Basingstoke, 2009).

[27] Kounine, Imagining the Witch, p. 90.

[28] J. Goodare, The European Witch-Hunt (London, 2016), p. 310.

[29] The Examination and Confession of Certaine Wytches at Chensforde in the Countie of Essex (London, 1566), sigs. Aiiiv, [Avir] and Biiir.

[30] A Rehearsall Both Straung and True, of Hainous and Horrible Actes Committed by Elizabeth Stile alias Rockingham, Mother Dutten, Mother Devell, Mother Margaret, Fower Notorious Witches apprehended at Winsore in the Countie of Berks. (London, 1579), sigs. Ar and Avr.

[31] Warhafftige Newe Zeittung auß dem Land Westvahlen von der Stat Ossenbruck wie man da hat auff einen Tag 133. Unholden verbrendt (s.l., 1588), (unpaginated – p. 1.).

[32] U. Molitor, Von den Uholden oder Hexen (Augsburg, 1508), sig. [Bvv].

[33] R. Lutz, Warhafftige Zeittung Von Gottlosen Hexen Auch Ketzerischen und Teuffels Weibern die zu Schettstadt deß H. Römischen Reichstadt in Elsaß auf den XXII. Herbstmonat deß 1570 Jahrs von wegen ihrer schändtlichen Teuffelsverpflichtung sind verbrennt (s.l, 1571), sig. Ar.

[34] C. Zika, The Appearance of Witchcraft: Print and Visual Culture in Sixteenth-Century Europe (London, 2007), pp. 12 – 26.

[35] ‘nach dem alten Sprichwort/ Was der Teuffel nicht kan zu wege bringen/ das bringt er durch ein alt Weib zu wege’: H. Kuntz, Newe Zeitung von einer Erschrecklicher That, welche zu Dillingen, von einem Jhesuwider, vnd einer Hexen geschehen ist (Basel, 1579), sig. Aiiir.  H. Kuntz, Newe Zeitung von einer Erschrecklicher That, welche zu Dillingen, von einem Jhesuwider, vnd einer Hexen geschehen ist (Urssel, 1580), sig. Aiiir. Newe Zeitung aus Berneburgk Schrecklich und abschewlich zu hoeren und zu lesen von dreyen alten Teuffels Bulerin Hexin oder Zauberinnen (s.l., 1580), sig. Br.

[36] A Rehearsall Both Straung and True, sig. Ar.

[37] A Rehearsall Both Straung and True, sig. Avv.

[38] A Rehearsall Both Straung and True, sig. [Aviv].

[39] R. Galis, A Brief Treatise Containing the Most Strange and Horrible Cruelty of Elizabeth Stile alias Rockingham and her Confederates (London, 1579), sig. [Ciiiv].

[40] Galis, A Brief Treatise, sig. Dv.

[41] Galis, A Brief Treatise, sigs. Ciiv and [Diiiir].

[42] Warhaffte und Glaubwirdige Zeytung. Wie man in diesem 1582. Jahr wol in die 200. und fuenff und zweyntzig Weiber verbrant hat (Strasbourg, 1582).

[43] See, for example: Ein New kläglich Lied von dem grossen Schaden der Unholden So sie in Westphalen zu Aschenbruegk und andern Orten begangen haben in dem jetztwerenden 1583. Jar (Wesel, 1583) and Ein Warhafftige Zeitung Von etlichen Hexen oder Unholden welche man kürtzlich im Stifft Mäntz zu Ascheburg, Dipperck,Ostum, Rönßhoffen auch andern Orten verbrendt was Ubels sie gestifft und bekandt haben (Frankfurt am Main, 1603).

[44] ‘man hat auch vier und viertzig Weiber und drey Man gefangen/ und den 24. Oct: zu Mimpelgart verbant’: Warhaffte und Glaubwirdige Zeytung, sig. [Aiiir].

[45] Warhaffte und Glaubwirdige Zeytung, sig. [Aiiiir].

[46] ‘dem leydigen Sathan solche gewalt/uber den schwachen Werckzeug weibliches Geschlecht’: Warhaffte und Glaubwirdige Zeytung, sig. [Aiiiir].

[47] See, for example: T. Potts, The Wonderfull Discoverie of Witches in the Countie of Lancaster With the arraignement and triall of nineteene notorious witches (London, 1613).;   Witchcrafts, Strange and Wonderfull: Discovering the Damnable Practices of Seven Witches, against the lives of certaine noble personages, and others of this kingdome, as shall appeare in this lamentable history (London, 1635).; Zwo erschreckliche und unerhörte Geschicht, welches in diesem XCCI Jar geschehen ist auff dem Brockersberg, dar sich ahn die hundert tausend Unholden oder Hexen versamlet (Cologne, 1596).

[48] Warfield, ‘The Media Representation of the Crime of Witchcraft’, p. 265.

[49] A. Pettegree, The Invention of News, p. 92.

[50] T. Watt, Cheap Print and Popular Piety, 1550 – 1640 (Cambridge, 1991), p. 3.; J. Wiltenburg, Disorderly Women and Female Power in the Street Literature of Early Modern England and Germany (London, 1992), p. 38.

[51] Pettegree, The Invention of News, p. 93. J. Wiltenburg, ‘True Crime: The Origins of Modern Sensationalism’, American Historical Review, 109/5 (2004), p. 1382.

[52] Pettegree, The Invention of News, p. 94.

[53] The Life and Death of Lewis Gaufredy (London, 1612), sigs. A2r – A4v.

[54] Zwo Warhafftige newe Zeitungen […] Die andere Zeitung: Eine abschewliche vnd zuuor nie erhoerte erschreckliche Zaubereyen Moerdt vnnd Diebereyen von Vater Mutter zweyen Soehnen vnd zweyen Toechtermaennern geschehen Welche in … Muenchen im Beyerland sind gefaenglich eingezogen worden. (Basel, 1600), sigs. Aiiv – Aiiiiv.

[55] ANNO MDLXXXVI. Ist bey Bedbur ein Zauberer geweßen STVMP PETER genant, welcher sich in einen WOLF verwandelt (s.l., 1589).; Warhafftige und wunderbarliche Newe Zeitung von einem Bawren der sich durch Zauberey deß Tags siben stunnd zu einem Wolff verwandelt hat (Augsburg, 1589).; Warhafftige und Wunderbarlich Newe Zeitung von einem Pauren der sich durch Zauberey des tags siben stund zu ainen Wolff verwandelt hat (Nuremberg, 1589).; Warhafftige und erschreckliche Beschreibung, von einem Zauberer (Stupe Peter genandt) der sich zu einem Wehrwolff hat können machen (Cologne, 1589).; J. van Gehlen, Warachtighe ende verschrickelijcke beschryvinge van vele toovenaers, hoe ende waerom men die verbrandt heeft in 1589 (Antwerp, 1589); En forskreckelig oc sand bescriffuelse om mange troldfolck som ere forbrends for deris misgierninger skyld fra det aar 1589 (Copenhagen, 1591).; A True Discourse. Declaring the Damnable Life and Death of one Stubbe Peeter, a Most Wicked Sorcerer (London, 1590).

[56] A. Warfield, ‘Witchcraft and the Early Modern Media’, in J. Dillinger (ed.), The Routledge History of Witchcraft (London, 2020), p. 215.

[57] S. K. Barker, ‘International News Pamphlets’, in A Kesson and E. Smith (eds.), The Elizabethan Top Ten: Defining Print Popularity in Early Modern England (Ashgate, 2016), pp. 152 – 4.

[58] ANNO MDLXXXVI. Ist bey Bedbur ein Zauberer geweßen STVMP PETER genant.; Warhafftige und wunderbarliche Newe Zeitung von einem Bawren.; Warhafftige und Wunderbarlich Newe Zeitung von einem Pauren .; Warhafftige und erschreckliche Beschreibung, von einem Zauberer .; A True Discourse. Declaring the Damnable Life and Death of one Stubbe Peeter.

[59] ‘unsäglich schandt unndt Laster’: ANNO MDLXXXVI. Ist bey Bedbur ein Zauberer geweßen STVMP PETER genant.; ‘schröcklich ist es zu hören an’: Warhafftige vnd wunderbarliche Newe Zeitung von einem Bawren.; A True Discourse. Declaring the Damnable Life and Death of one Stubbe Peeter, p. 12.

[60] ANNO MDLXXXVI. Ist bey Bedbur ein Zauberer geweßen STVMP PETER genant.

[61] A True Discourse. Declaring the Damnable Life and Death of one Stubbe Peeter, p. 1.

[62] Barker, ‘International News Pamphlets’, p. 150.

[63] Warfield, ‘Witchcraft and the Early Modern Media’, p. 215.

[64] Warhafftige und erschreckliche Beschreibung, von einem Zauberer, sigs. Aiv – Aiir.

[65] A True Discourse. Declaring the Damnable Life and Death of one Stubbe Peeter, pp. 1, 7, and 10.

[66] M. Parker, The Tragedy of Doctor Lambe, / The great suposed Coniurer, who was wounded to death by Saylers / and other Lads, on Fryday the 14. of Iune, 1628. And dyed in the / Poultry Counter, neere Cheapside, on the Saturday morning following (London, 1628).

[67] Potts, The Wonderfull Discoverie of Witches in the Countie of Lancaster, sig. Br.

[68] G. B, A most wicked worke of a wretched witch (the like whereof none can record these manie yeeres in England.) (London, 1592).

[69] See, for example: W. W., A True and Just Recorde. and The Examination, Confession, Triall, and Execution, of Joane Williford, Joan Cariden, and Jane Hott: who were executed at Feversham in Kent, for being witches, on Munday the 29 of September, 1645 (London, 1645).

[70] Rowlands, ‘Witchcraft and Gender in Early Modern Europe’, p. 466. J. Dillinger, Hexen und Magie (2nd edn., Frankfurt am Main, 2018), p. 126.

[71] K. Thomas, Religion and the Decline of Magic: Studies in Popular Belief in Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century England (London, 1971), p. 671.; L. Roper, Witch Craze: Terror and Fantasy in Baroque Germany (London, 2004), p. 161.

[72] Newe Zeitung aus Berneburgk, sig. Aiir.

[73] Kuntz, Newe Zeitung von einer Erschrecklicher That, sig. Av.

[74] A Rehearsall Both Straung and True, sig. Aiiiir.

[75] The Apprehension and Confession of Three Notorious Witches. Arreigned and by Justice condemned and executed at Chelmes-forde, in the Countye of Essex, the 5. day of Iulye, last past. 1589 (London, 1589), sig. Aiiir.

[76] R. M. Toivo, ‘Witchcraft and Gender’, in J. Dillinger (ed.), The Routledge History of Witchcraft (London, 2020), p. 225.

[77] The Witches of Northamptonshire Agnes Browne. Ioane Vaughan. Arthur Bill. Hellen Ienkenson. Mary Barber. (London, 1612), sig. A3r.

[78] The Witches of Northamptonshire, sig. B2r and Cv.

[79] See, for example: Warhafftige Newe Zeittung auß dem Land Westvahlen von der Stat Ossenbruck.

[80] See, for example: Warhafftige und erschreckliche Beschreibung, von einem Zauberer (Stupe Peter genandt), sig. Aiiir.; Erweyterte Unholden-Zeitung: Kurze Erzelung wie viel der Unholden hin vnd wider/ sonderlich inn dem Obern Teutschland/ gefängklich eingezogen (Ulm, 1590), sig. [Aiiiir].; Zwo schröckliche Newe Zeitung, die erste ist von dem grewlichen Elendt, so sich in Aschenburck am Maynstrom von Hexen unnd Unholten geschehen (Giessen, 1612).  Sig. Aiir.

[81]  Robisheaux, ‘The German Witch Trials’, p. 187.

[82] H. C. Erik Midelfort, Witch Hunting in Southwestern Germany 1562 – 1684: The Social and Intellectual Foundations (Stanford, CA, 1972), pp. 178 – 85.  

[83] ‘Manns und Weibspersonen/ jung und alt/ arm und reich/ so der Hexenkunst und Zauberey erfahren/ hinrichten und verbrennen’: Zwo Hexenzeitung: Die Erste Auß dem Bisthumb Würtzburg, das ist Gründliche Erzehlung wie der Bishoff zu Würtzburg das Hexenbrennen im Franckenlande angefangen […] die Ander Auß dem Hertzogthumb Würtenburg wie der Hertzog zu Würtenberg in unterschiedlichen Stätten das Hexenbrennen auch angefangen (Tübingen, 1616), (unpaginated – p.1).

[84] ‘Teglich mehr eingefangen viel/ kein ansehen der Person gilt/ Reich/ Arm/ Schön/ Herr und Frawen’: Gewisser Bericht des Truten und Hexenbrennens Bambergischen Gebiets wie lang es gewehrt: Was für ubels ihrer Außsag nach sie viel Jahr hero an Menschen, Vihe, Früchten und andern verübet was allbereit verbrennet (Schmalkalden, 1628), sigs. Aiiiv and [Aiiiir].

[85] Ein Warhafftige und gründliche Beschreibung Auß dem Bistumb Würtz und Bamberg Deßgleichen von dem ganzen Fränkischen Kraiß wie man alda so vil hexen Mann vnd Weibspersohnen verbrennen laßt (S.l., 1627), sig. Av.

[86] Ein Warhafftige und gründliche Beschreibung Auß dem Bistumb Würtz und Bamberg, sig. Av.

[87] M. Gaskill, ‘Witchcraft and Evidence in early modern England’, Past and Present, 198 (2008), pp. 46 – 54.

[88] J. Sharpe, Instruments of Darkness: Witchcraft in England 1550 – 1750 (London, 1996), pp. 128 – 9.

[89] Millar, ‘Diabolic Men’, p. 8.

[90] A Most Certain, Strange, and true Discovery of a Witch, sig. A2r.

[91] Signes and Wonders from Heaven (London, 1645), pp. 2 – 5.

[92] Signes and Wonders from Heaven, p. 3.

[93] A. Rowlands, ‘Not the Usual Suspects? Male, Witchcraft, and Masculinities in Early Modern Europe’, in A. Rowlands (ed.), Witchcraft and Masculinities in Early Modern Europe (Basingstoke, 2009), p. 6.

[94] J. Sharpe, ‘The Devil in East Anglia: the Matthew Hopkins Trials Reconsidered’, in J. Barry, M. Hester, and G. Roberts (eds.), Witchcraft in Early Modern Europe: Studies in Culture and Belief (Cambridge, 1996), p. 249. Millar, Witchcraft, the Devil, and Emotions, p. 8.

[95] The Examination of John Walsh  […] upon certayn interrogatories touchyng wytchcrafte and sorcerye (London, 1566), sig. Aiir.

[96] Des allerdurchleuchtigsten, groszmechtigsten vnüberwindlichsten Keyser Karls des Fünfften, vnd des Heyligen Römischen Reichs peinlich Gerichts ordnung:auff den Reichßtägen zu Augspurg vnd Regenspurg, in jaren dreissig vnd zwey vnd dreissig gehalten, auffgericht vnd beschlossen (Frankfurt am Main, 1562), sig. Dr.

[97] Augusten Hertzogen zu Sachsen … Verordnungen und Constitutionen des rechtlichen Process (Dresden, 1572), sig. ff. 71v – 72r.

[98] ‘An Act agaynst conjuracons inchantmentes and Witchecraftes (5 Eliz I, c. 16)’, in Statutes of the Realm, vol. 4 part I (London, 1819), p. 446.

[99] ‘An Act agaynst conjuracons inchantmentes and Witchecraftes (5 Eliz I, c. 16)’, in Statutes of the Realm, vol. 4 part I (London, 1819), p. 446.

[100] ‘An Act against Conjuration Witchcrafte and dealing with evill and wicked Spirits (1 Jac. I, c. 12)’, in Statutes of the Realm, vol. 4 part II (London, 1819), p. 1028.

[101] ‘An Act against Conjuration Witchcrafte and dealing with evill and wicked Spirits (1 Jac. I, c. 12)’, in Statutes of the Realm, vol. 4 part II (London, 1819), p. 1028.

[102] C. Holmes, ‘Popular Culture? Witches, Magistrates, and Divines in Early Modern England’, in S. L. Kaplan (ed.), Understanding Popular Culture: Europe from the Middle Ages to the Nineteenth Century (New York, NY, 1984), p. 87.

[103] Sharpe, ‘English witchcraft pamphlets and the popular demonic’, pp. 127 – 8.

[104] Millar, ‘Diabolic Men’, p. 14. Millar, Witchcraft, the Devil, and Emotions in Early Modern England, p. 48.

[105] W. W., A True and Just Recorde, sigs. A3r – v.

[106] W. W., A True and Just Recorde, sig. A3v.

[107] M. Gibson, ‘French demonology in an English village: the St Osyth experiment of 1582’, in J. Goodare, R. Voltmer & L. Helene Willumsen (eds.), Demonology and witch-hunting in early modern Europe (London, 2020), p. 108.

[108] The Witches of Northamptonshire, sig. A4v.

[109] Lutz, Von Gottlosen Hexen, sig. Av.

[110] The Wonderful Discouerie of the Witchcrafts of Margaret and Phillip Flower, daughters of Ioan Flower neere Bever Castle (London, 1619), sig. Bv.

[111] The Examination and Confession of Certaine Wytches at Chensforde.

[112] The Examination and Confession of Certaine Wytches at Chensforde, sigs. [Aviiv] – [Biiiir].

[113] Erweyterte Unholden-Zeitung, sig. A2r – v.

[114] Dillinger, ‘Germany – “the Mother of the Witches”’, p. 98.

[115] Rowlands, ‘Not the Usual Suspects’, p. 19.

[116] Wiltenburg, ‘True Crime: the Origins of Modern Sensationalism’, p. 1383.

[117] Wiltenburg, ‘True Crime’, p. 1385.; J. E., Slotkin, Sinister Aesthetics: The Appeal of Evil in Early Modern English Literature (Cham, 2017), p. 132.; Krah, ‘Fiktionalität und Faktizität’, p. 77.

[118] Watt, Cheap Print and Popular Piety, p. 69.; Wiltenburg, ‘True Crime’, pp. 1384 -5 .

[119] Ein Warhafftige vnd gründtliche BeschreibungAuß dem Bistum Würtz und Bamberg, sig. Aiiv.

[120] ‘das schier alle Stödt/ Märckt/ und Dörffer/im gantzen Teutschland […] desselbigen unzifers und Teuffelsdienern voll seindt’: Erweyterte Unholden-Zeitung, sig. A2r.

[121] G. B, A most wicked worke of a wretched witch, sig. Av.