The large 'steen' in which Ann, the Toad Witch of North Bovey, kept her toads. Photographed in Devon & Cornwall Notes & Queries, 1901.

West Country witch tools in the Museum of Witchcraft & Magic. 'Old Martha Whitchalse's brazen cauldron' along with an 'egg wand' from Umberleigh, and a spell stone' from Yarcombe.

Human skull spirit houses used in Devon.

A pig skull prepared as a protection charm by a Cullompton witch, and once used by Gerald Gardner in ritual. The Horse skull housed 'nightmare riding spirits' on a Drewsteignton farm. Cow bone and iron chain preparedby a Devon witch as a horse protection charm.

A spirit house made by a Honiton witch using a lace maker's globe filled with Hundreds and Thousands. It is said that the spirit housed within it 'could be quite nasty at times'. From the Museum of Witchcraft & Magic.

Granite altar kept by a witch on Bench Tor. Snake vertebrae necklace from Collumpton, worn to 'confer upon the witch a degree of magical and spiritual power.’

Stone carried against toothache, and stone on string used to cure warts. Both from South Devon. Clarke Collection.

Rings, made from half-crowns or florins featured in rites to cure seizures. Museum of Witchcraft & Magic.

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Silent as the Trees:

Devonshire Witchcraft, Folklore & Magic

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Silent as the Trees:

Devonshire Witchcraft, Folklore & Magic

The Elizabethan sea captain, privateer and navigator, temains of course a figure of global fame, particularly in connection with the 1588 defeat of the Spanish Armada His connection with Devon is also well known, but less well known is his legendary status as a powerful magician, witch, and leader of Devonshire covens.

In c. 1540, Sir Francis Drake was born in the west Devon town of Tavistock. In 1580 he purchased Buckland Abbey, a seven hundred near Yelverton on the south-western edge of Dartmoor. Anyone who was seen to have made great achievements and remarkable feats, in the days when witchcraft was widely believed in, was likely to have their successes put down to magic, and some form of pact with spirits. Such was certainly the case with Drake, who was said to have sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for victory and success, and there are numerous tales and traditions of his magical powers and his working relationship with the spirit world. One such tale concerns his alterations to Buckland Abbey.

During the building work, the workmen would down their tools at the end of the day, only to return in the morning to find the previous day's work undone and interference from the spirit world was suspected. Drake decided to find out for himself what was happening and that he would spy on the culprits. As night fell, he climbed a great old tree overlooking the house, and waited. When midnight came, out of the darkness emerged a horde of marauding demons, gleefully clambering about over the house and dismantling all the stonework put up during year old manor house the day.

Loudly, Drake called out 'Cock-a-doodle-do!" in the manner of a cockerel, crowing in the dawn. The mischievous spirits suddenly stopped their shenanigans in confusion, and Drake lit up his smoking pipe. As they spotted the glowing light in the tree, the spirits believed the sun was coming up and departed back into the shadows from whence they came. Presumably, they were so embarrassed at having been so easily fooled that they never returned, and the building work continued unhindered.

Traditionally housed in Buckland Abbey, is Drake's legendary drum. Beautifully painted and decorated with ornate stud-work, the drum is popularly said to have accompanied sir Francis Drake on his voyages around the world. As he lay on his deathbed on his final voyage, it is said Drake ordered that his drum be returned to England and kept at Buckland Abbey, his home. Here, the drum should be beaten in times of national threat, and it will call forth his spirit to aid the country. Indeed, there have been numerous occasions when people have claimed to have heard Drake's drum beating, including during the English Civil War and the outbreak of the Frist World War.

In 1918, a celebratory drum roll was reported to have been heard aboard the HMS Royal Oak following the surrender of the Imperial German Navy. An investigation was carried out with the ship being thoroughly searched twice by officers and again by the captain. As neither a drum nor a drummer could be found, the matter was put down to Drake's legendary drum.

During World War II, much weight was added to the drum's legendary protective influence, particularly over the city of Plymouth which, it was said, would fall if the drum was ever removed from its home at the Abbey. When fire broke out at Buckland Abbey in 1938, the drum was removed to the safety of Buckfast Abbey.

Bombs first fell on Plymouth 1940, and again in 1941 in five raids which reduced much of the city to rubble. In 1172 civilians lost their lives in the 'Plymouth Blitz’. Drake's drum was returned to Buckland Abbey, and the City remained safe for the remainder of the war.

Like many reputed witches and magicians, Sir Francis Drake was said to possess a familiar spirit to aid him in his work. The presence and influence of this spirit turns up in the stories surrounding his marriage in Like 1585 to Elizabeth Sydenham, daughter of Sir George Sydenham the Sheriff of Somerset. Some sources that Elizabeth's parents we disapproving of the union due to Drake's reputed involvement in the black artes and that the marriage took place shortly before he departed for a long voyage. After no news had been heard from Drake for a number of years, Elizabeth's parents took the opportunity to persuade her to declare herself a widow. Another account states that Drake's departure for his voyage took place before the wedding. In both versions however, The Sydenhams arranged for their only child to be married instead to a wealthy son of the Wyndham family.

It is said that Drake had left his familiar spirit to keep watch over his beloved while he was away, and that the spirit made him aware of her planned wedding to another man. On the day of the wedding, there was a loud clap of thunder, and a meteorite came crashing through the roof of the church. Some said that this had been a cannonball shot from Drake's ship to halt the wedding. In any case, it was taken as a bad omen against the wedding between Elizabeth Sydenham and the son of the Wyndham family.

The meteorite itself, known as ‘Drake's Cannonball' has been housed at Combe Sydenham ever since.

Another popular legend featuring Drake's reputed and remarkable magical abilities concerns the creation of the Plymouth Leat. As Plymouth had suffered problematic water shortages through dry summer months, it is said that Drake took his horse and rode out onto Dartmoor to search for a water source. Upon finding a small spring, he uttered a magical charm over it and it burst forth from the rocks as a flowing stream. Drake galloped o on his steed, commanding the flowing waters has he die so to follow him back to the city. Today, the Plymouth Leat has its beginning at Sheepstor on the western side of Dartmoor and ends in a reservoir just outside the city.

There are, of course, a number of traditions of magic and witchery surrounding Sir Francis Drake's defeat of the Spanish Armada. He is said to have presided as Man in Black' over a number of covens, and that during the threat of invasion, he and his covens assembled on the cliffs at Devil's Point to the south west of Plymouth. There they performed magical operations to conjure forth a terrible storm to destroy many of the Spanish ships. It is said that to this day that Devil's Point is haunted by Drake and his witches, still convening there in spirit form.

Another, more famous legend, tells of Sir Francis Drake playing a game of bowls on Plymouth Hoe when news was brought to him of the approach of the Spanish fleet. In one version he is said to have casually continued his game to its conclusion which, it has been suggested was a magical spell; with the bowls he was scattering with his drives representing the invading fleet. In another version, he stops his game to order a hatchet and a great log to be brought to the Hoe. He then proceeded to chop the wood into small wedges whilst uttering a magical charm over them as each one was thrown into the sea, and as each one hit the water they transformed into great fire ships; sailing out to burn the Armada.

The folklore surrounding Sir Francis Drake also includes his deep association with the Wild Hunt. Sometimes he is seen as leading the ghostly pack of Wisht Hounds', and at others he is the riding companion of the Hunt's more traditional leader; the Devil. In some Stories Drake rides in a spectral black coach, drawn by black, headless horses and followed by a great pack of black, otherworldly hounds with eyes burning red in the night. Sometimes his coach horses are seen with their heads, and have eyes blazing like hot coals.

One such story tells of a young maid, running desperately across the moors to escape an evil man on horseback she is being forced by her adoptive family to marry. Upon reaching a remote crossroads, and collapsing there in exhaustion, the ghostly pack of hounds and horse drawn coach approach from the darkness. Stopping at the crossroads, a man steps out of the coach, and the young woman recognises him to be the ghost of Sir Francis Drake.

He enquired of the young woman, why she was out on the moor alone and in a state of desperation and exhaustion, and she told him of her plight. Drake pulled from beneath his cloak a box and a cloth, and gave these to the young woman telling her to continue gently on her way, and not, under any circumstance, to look back.

The maid did as she was instructed, and when her pursuer reached the crossroads, he asked of the dark figure in the coach if he had seen a young maid passing by. Drake asked the man to step into his coach, and as he did, its door shut fast and the coach and hounds disappeared back into the darkness. The man was never to be seen again, and it is said that when morning came, his horse was found at the remote crossroads and had apparently died of fright.

According to research by the Devonshire cunning man Jack Daw, there is said to be a family line of Pellars, descended from the girl who encountered the spirit of Sir Francis Drake on the Moor. Their powers, it is claimed, are derived from the gift of the box and cloth he had given to her on that night.”

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Silent as the Trees:

Devonshire Witchcract, Folklore & Magic

Chapter One — ‘Tools of the Arte’

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Liber Nox:

A Traditional Witch’s Gramarye

The legendary prophetess and reputed witch, Ursula Sontheil, or 'Mother Shipton' as she became known, is of course heavily associated with Knaresborough in Yorkshire, the land of her birth, but she came to live for many years near the Devon border.

Her mother, Agatha Sontheil, who was also a reputed witch, is said to have given birth to Ursula in the cave which now bears her more famous name, and which is home to the world famous 'petrifying well’. Mother Shipton was known also as 'the Devil's bastard', for it is said that her father was not a mortal man, but a spint her mother Agatha had encountered as 'a well-dressed, pleasant spoken young man' whilst walking in nearby woods. He took pity on her for she was deeply sad of her poverty, took her as his lover and gave to her many magical powers, including the ability to cure or kill, to conjure forth storms, tempests, thunder and lightning, to have command over man and beast and to foretell the future.

A journey through some lonely place, while bearing troubles of some kind, is the classic circumstance via which the witch-to-be first encounters the 'Devil’ or initiating spirit from whom she will gain her powers and magical abilities. It is a circumstance to be encountered repeatedly throughout the annals of witchcraft history and lore.

Ursula was born, it is said, in 1488 with various physical deformities including 'big bones, large goggling eyes, a long crooked nose and with crooked misshapen legs.' Such an appearance would doubtlessly have added to her own reputation as a seer and witch.

At the age of 24, Ursula married one Toby Shipton, and in time built a successful life for herself as a widely consulted wise-woman for her powers of foresight; particularly among young women seeking some insight into their future romantic affairs.

Being of such an 'unattractive' appearance, many explained her happy marriage by accusing Mother Shipton of binding her husband by the use of a love potion. The couple left to live in Porlock in Somerset where Mother Shipton was often blamed by the locals for any storms or tragedies at sea. During her time in the West Country, Mother Shipton is said to have placed a curse on the Devon village of Silverton because of some offence its inhabitants had caused her. According to the curse, the people of Silverton will never prosper. She is said also to have predicted the very date and time of her own passing many years before the event. When the time approached, she bid farewell to her friends, retired to her bed and duly died. “

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Silent as the Trees:

Devonshire Witchcract, Folklore & Magic

Just as the perceived boundaries between witches’ and 'cunning-folk' are decidedly blurred in West Country tradition, so too, surprisingly perhaps for some, were t distinctions between folk-magicians and Christian clergy.

Churches themselves, as homes to rituals of divine communion, union, blessing, exorcism and the passage of the dead, are places of useful power and magic. Its water, made holy by its blessing within church rites, was highly sought after for use within acts of popular magic; most often for the purposes of protection and curative magic. Church holy water was so routinely taken for such unauthorised magical uses, that fonts were fitted with lockable covers from the Middle Ages. The Eucharist and the chrism, also being blessed and holy substances, were similarly of use to magical practitioners, and so these, like the holy water, were also ordered to be kept under lock and key.

The Christian saints had in many ways taken on roles akin to elder gods; being often heavily associated with the land and magical loci such as holy wells. The lives of the saints abound with tales of miraculous acts bonded to certain loci, and they were widely petitioned for aid in various acts of magic and divinatory practices. Saintly relics became most sought after as potent magical objects, and even their statues might be scraped to produce powders for use in magical curatives.

It makes sense then that the men who mediated the power of God and the saints, and who administered the rites of the Church would be seen by some to be magicians themselves. Indeed, there were many clergymen who actively practiced in ways that made them virtually indistinguishable from 'cunning men', and in Devon these were known as the conjuring parsons.

Some practiced as astrologers; a service which, despite the disapproval the Church held for such things, they saw as an extension of their normal duty towards their parishioners. One Devonian example of an 'astrologising parson' was the north Devon clergyman known as Parson Joc. His personal notebook, preserved after his death, revealed details of the horary calculations he would draw up for the people of his parish. Those clergymen who possessed a more overt reputation for magic often held extensive libraries of books which were rumoured to contain numerous occult volumes and grimoires. These books of power, and the trouble that could arise if they were pried into by the 'uninitiated', feature in a number of popular stories surrounding the conjuring parsons.

One such story is associated with the Reverend William Cunningham, a 19th century incumbent of Bratton. The story tells that while he was absent from his home, his maid, out of curiosity, summoned the bravery to peruse one of the reverend's occult tomes. Inadvertently it seems she had managed to summon two spirits; for a pair of strange creatures like chickens’ materialised in the kitchen, and she was forced to confess to the reverend what she had done in order that he would then banish them.

The Reverend Franke Parker, known as 'Old Parson Parker' served the parish of Luffincott in the far west of Devon in the 1830s. Like the Reverend William Cunningham, he too possessed a library of magical books, but also possessed, by some mysterious means, the ability to know when someone was prying into his collection. It is said that whilst delivering a sermon, he suddenly stopped and ran from the church back to the rectory much to the surprise of his flock, for he had sensed that his maid was reading one of his occult books. He rushed into his library just in time to stop her before any magical mishap might have occurred.

Some of the magical powers and inclinations attributed to old Parson Parker would appear to paint him more in the hue of a traditional witch rather than that of your average 'cunning man', for he was said to posses the ability to 'shape shift' into animal form. Indeed, the local policeman is said to have discovered the parson sitting on his chair and barking like a dog. Perhaps incriminating, and certainly difficult to explain, is more the situation another visitor to the rectory found him in: laying in his bed surrounded by the bodies of dead toads.

Shortly before his death, Parker is said to have declared that he would return from the world of spirit in the form of an animal, such as that of a dog, a rat or a white rabbit. When he died aged eighty in 1883, so serious was the concern that he would make his promised bestial reappearances, that his body was interred in a grave dug to a depth of seventeen feet as a preventative measure.

Perhaps one of Devon's most famous conjuring parsons is the Reverend Harris, or Parson Harris of Hennock; a small village on the south-eastern flank of Dartmoor with beautiful views over the Teign Valley. Parson Harris was regarded as a 'wizard, and was consulted by the people of his parish for his skills in conjuring, particularly it seems in order to identify thieves and retrieve stolen property.

In one case at least however, it was psychology rather than conjuring that he employed to identify a thief, yet it was his reputation as a conjuror that secured the efficacy of the exercise. A farmer named Tuckett went to see the parson one day; seeking his aid regarding three geese which had been stolen from his farm. The parson reassured the farmer, telling him that the man who had taken his geese shall soon be 'put to open shame’.

On the following Sunday morning, the parson climbed into his pulpit and proclaimed loudly before the seated congregation; ‘I give you all to know that Farmer Tuckett has had three geese stolen. I have consulted my books and drawn my figures, and I have so conjured it that three feathers of thickey geese shall now, my this very instant, stick to the nose of the thief! Of course, the guilty party instinctively raised their hand to their nose and the parson, watching for this very reaction, immediately pointed his finger and boomed out across the church 'there is the man who stole the geese!’

On another occasion, Farmer Loveys called on Parson Harris for help as his fine gander had been stolen from his farm the previous night. The parson set about consulting his occult tomes before drawing a magic circle in which he uttered a strange incantation. He then walked over to his library window and opened it just as the missing gander was flung through to land at his feet, all plucked, trussed, and on the spit ready for roasting.

Another tale, perhaps a different version of the previous one, tells of the parson being consulted about a missing cockerel, which its owner was sure must have been stolen. Parson Harris told the man not to worry, for not only would he conjure the bird to be returned to him, he would cause the thief to reveal himself as well. When the man returned to his home, he was followed by his neighbour who came running through the door carrying the half roasted bird.

A particularly interesting story concerning the Parson hints at a dichotomy between his magical artes and his position as a cleric.

He couldn't help but notice one Saturday that his maid, Polly, was caught in a deep melancholy; sobbing to herself now and then. When Harris asked the girl what was the matter, she explained that she was missing her boyfriend terribly; as he had left for Exeter to enter into service.

Feeling sorry for the girl, and of course not wanting an interminably miserable maid about the house, he promised to conjure the young man back home to her. However, the Sunday rolled by and there was no sign of the return of her lover; leaving the maid completely inconsolable, and much shaken in her faith in her master's powers. She went to bed and sobbed herself to sleep.

As Dawn approached however, she was awoken by someone desperately banging on the door outside; it was her lover John, exhausted and drenched with perspiration. The parson's conjuration had not worked upon him until at nightfall when he removed his coat; for in one of its pockets was his Bible. As soon as he took off his coat, he had been compelled to run all the way from Exeter to the parson's home. The young man's Bible had acted as a protective charm against the parson's 'unholy' spell.”

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Silent as the Trees:

Devonshire Witchcract, Folklore & Magic

“The Devon Witches

In memory of

Temperance Lloyd, Susannah Edwards, Mary Trembles of Bideford, died 1682

Alice Molland, died 1685

the last people in England to be executed for witchcraft tried here & hanged at Heavitree.

In the hope of an end to persecution & intolerance.

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Silent as the Trees:

Devonshire Witchcraft, Folklore & Magic

In volume one of Devon Notes and Queries, 1901, there is an intriguing account of a witch living and working in the village of North Bovey. Her name was Ann, and she was of that special class of West Country magical practitioner; a toad witch, because to work her spells and enchantments, for good or ill, she employed the aid of her toads.

Ann had many toads, and she housed them in a large and dark old steen which she kept under her dresser. From the account given about Ann, we know the names of three of her toads; they were Croppy, Rumbo and Krant. It was said that Krant was the largest and most wicked of the witch's toads, and the most feared by the villagers. Indeed Ann found some entertainment in the fear the villagers held for her and her notorious toads, and when a visitor came to her cottage Ann would sometimes delight in testing the bravery of her visitor by daring them to go over to the dresser and touch the dreaded steen.

We know also that Ann would perform the traditional form of divination known as 'the Bible and Key'. In order to decide whether or not she should proceed with a magical operation, she would take out her Bible and insert her door key between its pages so that the key's handle protruded, and would bind the book tightly shut. Then she would take hold of the protruding key and stand the book on its edge; if the Bible remained still Ann knew that there was no use in proceeding at that time. However, if the book did turn, then the operation was sure to succeed, and Ann would take out her trusty toads and begin her work.

The details however of Ann's magical work, her mode of operation and in what manner she employed her toads remains shrouded in mystery, and probable deliberate secrecy on Ann's part. Her favoured location for magical working was North Bovey churchyard, and when Ann had a spell or charm to work, she would make her way there, with her toads, under the cover of midnight's dark.

Of course, no one in the village wold have been brave enough to dare follow Ann into the churchyard at the dead of night to find out what the old witch and her toads were up to.”

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Silent as the Trees:

Devonshire Witchcract, Folklore & Magic