The Witches of Belvoir
IN this series of legends we have moved in an atmosphere steeped in mystery and have achieved a measure of familiarity with the spectral world, and with the sundry activities of that intriguing personality, the devil.
In this legend is related the story of the help he gave to certain confidential servants of Francis, 6th Earl of Rutland. They conceived they had a genuine grievance against their employer, and invoked the aid of the devil to forward their unholy schemes of revenge.
ON a dark wintry night in January, 1618, the devil sat in judgment in a well wooded portion of the Chace of Charnwood.
Hither there came this night, from all points of the compass, many witches seeking an enlargement of their direful powers.
In an era far removed from the mechanical age
they were compelled to rely on strange methods of transit. Some had come long distances on broomsticks which were planted in an orderly row not unlike the piled arms of an infantry regiment. Others rode upon pokers, while a few apparently desiring comfort rode upon the backs of dogs and pigs.
Every witch present had surrendered her soul to the keeping of the devil, and had thereby entirely lost her freedom and independence. In return they were granted certain devilish powers which enabled them to wreak vengeance on their enemies.
The devil was now engaged in listening, and weighing up the various claims eagerly advanced by the different suppliants. Many of their grievances sounded trivial in the extreme, but the devil gravely considered each petition and devised some method, always ingenious yet infinitely revolting which would provide adequate means of reprisal.
Comely and Attractive.
A ripple of interest was now apparent, truly a most uncommon thing, for witches have ever been a selfish class, betraying scant concern for the problems of others of their kind.
A woman was stating her case for the judgment of the supreme authority. She was totally unlike all the others present, having scarce attained middle age; moreover, she was comely and attractive in her manner, thereby providing a striking contrast to the toothless and repulsive old hags who were in a large majority.
She was, however, wild of eye, and it was evident that a germ of fanaticism in her nature fanned the smouldering fire of discontent which deeply stirred this unhappy woman.
Her story of ill-treatment which she preferred against her employers was singularly unconvincing and a murmur of protest was heard among her fellow witches that she was using up valuable time for no adequate purpose. Even the Devil ever-ready to grant revengeful powers on the slightest pretext, showed signs of boredom.
He was preparing to turn and rend this woman when suddenly his interest quickened as she uttered the name of her employer Francis Earl of Rutland.
A man of great piety, the 6th Rutland. He lived a life of the utmost sanctity and in his manner of living set an example to his inferiors which ever remained a great refining influence in the district, and, indeed, in the neighbouring counties. For he was a nobleman of much power, and people set great store by his many good works.
Therefore the Devil listened attentively to Joan Flower’s story and gnashed his teeth the whiles, for he was consumed by a mighty anger in remembering the many of his schemes which had been indirectly foiled by the Godly Earl. He was overjoyed by this timely opportunity for revenge, and sternly bade the witches keep silence that he might evolve a subtle plan which would cause intense suffering and dire calamity to this noble house.
After some moments of deep thought he made a sign to one of his minions, who, diving into the densest portion of the wood, appeared shortly with an enormous cat, characterised by a pair of large green eyes and an expression of intelligence of the highest order. The devil handled the cat with the greatest care and made certain passes with his hands over its head and body, meanwhile holding converse with the animal in a tongue that none could comprehend. He then drew Joan Flower aside, gave her implicit instructions, and handed over to her Rutterkin, the black cat, which he was loaning to her for the purpose forwarding his sinister schemes against the innocent Earl.
At Belvoir.
All was not well at, Belvoir Castle, and feeling of uneasiness and constraint could be easily sensed. Especially in the servants’ quarters, that sure barometer for household atmospherics, dissatisfaction was rife, though none of the menials, if questioned, could have accounted for this depressing state of affairs. T’ was as if a bird of ill-omen hovered over the ‘house bringing bad tidings and evil circumstances in its train.
The Earl of Rutland was not unmindful of this unhappy change which had taken place in a normally peaceful and contented household.
Without doubt he would have taken immediate steps to find where the trouble lay, but at the time serious private affairs occupied his attention. The young heir, Harry, Lord Roos, was grievously sick, and though advice was sought of the most learned physicians in London town, they could not alleviate the suffering or hold out any hopes of a cure. Nor could they identify the ailment which completely baffled these learned doctors.
Everything that man could do was tried in vain, the young Lord Roos grew rapidly worse and died early in the year 1618.
Twelve months later Francis, the younger son, now Lord Roos, took to his bed and his sickness followed precisely the same course as that of his brother. Again the best advice was obtained that money could buy, but all to no avail.
The condition of the invalid showed no signs of improvement and it was not long before the unhappy parents were mourning the loss of their second son.
For some time the Earl had a vague suspicion that strange and hidden arts were being practised at Belvoir Castle, and now, alas too late, he obtained some measure of proof.
A DELVE in the Echo archives often turns up some surprising and interesting finds and none more so than a series of articles by an author going under the pen name of “Heywood”.
During the 1930s Heywood contributed a number of pieces for the Echo looking at local country houses, churches and also “Local Legends.”
Of course legends are always worth repeating so we have decided to re-run our mystery author’s articles ninety-odd years on.
His confidential servant, Joan Flower, with her daughters, Margaret and Phillipa, were tried for bewitching the children of the Earl and Countess of Rutland.
The mother stoutly protested her innocence, and wishing to substantiate her claim, called for bread and butter and prayed that it might choke her if she were guilty of the charge. It is chronicled that no sooner did she begin to eat than she fell into a fit and died ere a doctor could be procured.
Admitted Their Guilt.
Terrified by their mother’s death, the two girls admitted their guilt and confessed that through the medium of the cat Rutterkin they had been given strange powers by the devil and had indeed compassed the death of the two boys.
They proceeded to tell the judge how they had stolen their gloves, put them into boiling water and rubbed them on Rutteirkin’s back. In this manner it was supposed that serious bodily injuries were caused which proved fatal in both cases.
The two girls gave further instances of their collusion with familiar spirits, and also described visions of devils they had seen at different times.
They were found guilty of witchcraft, and were condemned to death by the Chief Justice of the Common Pleas in the year 1619.
An entry in Burke’s peerage affords of some confirmation weird and almost inconceivable series of events:
Francis, 6th Earl of Rutland, had two sons.
(1) Harry, Lord Roos, died young, by wicked practice and sorcery, 1618.
(2) Francis, Lord Roos, died young, it was thought by witchcraft, 1619.