Henry Holland is
the most comprehensible of the English demonologists. His methodology is
clearly apparent, his continental sources consistent and thoroughly cited.
There is no specific case that has set him off, so his discussion is general,
without those typical plunges into unaccountable allegations about the
behaviour of accused witches or reporting of bizarre court evidence. His
initial position, Calvinism, is obvious, a starting place that makes sense of
what follows. But above all else, Holland is interesting because he mixes
together utter conviction (witchcraft and worship of the devil follows quite
logically from his Calvinistic thinking about the corrupt human state) with a
use of dialogic form. This risky combination, while not extending to pro et contra argument about the very existence
of witchcraft, allows his own doubts plenty of room. While, in the end, an ideology
speaks loudest in his Treatise against
Witchcraft, he has confronted problems that other writers avoided, and
evidently believes that he has banished them.
I am interested
in the use of dialogue in demonological works: Daneau, King James, George Gifford,
Samuel Willard come to mind as other examples, Matthew Hopkins risked a
question and answer format for his rabid convictions. Gifford, Willard and
Holland use the format more honestly than King James (for instance). Though it
may aim at producing augmented conviction, a demonstration of how misguided
doubts about the veracity of witchcraft are, there is at least the chance of
reverse conviction. These are the passages of dialogue that the dramatists of
the period could only glance at, in those rare moments when a gentleman
expresses scepticism.
A
Treatise against Witchcraft is a dialogue between ‘Theophilus’,
the god-loving, and ‘Mysodaemon’, the devil-hating. One could not expect – at least
from 1590 - a dialogue between a demonologist and an outright sceptic about
witchcraft, but Holland gives us the next best thing. Mysodaemon is obviously named
to suggest that his basic opinions are sound: but he has been reading Scot’s Discovery of Witchcraft, published six
years before. To refute Scot’s scepticism, Holland has to read him carefully.
Allowing two voices in his work gives scepticism a near-convert in Mysodaemon,
who is at times simply voicing confrontational passages from the Discovery. Dialogic form means that
Holland isn’t just arguing or haranguing his way through Scot, giving authorial
refutation of what he considered to be Scot’s errors: as a separate character
in the dialogue, Mysodaemon means that scepticism gets a decent airing.
Holland must have
been confident of success. He was committed to catechising as his basic method,
using a question and answer format in other works: in the catechistic model, an
instructor elicits the right answers from the instructee. This should be the
effect here: Mysodaemon’s wobblings straightened out by the firm assurance of
Theophilus.
What emerges,
though, always tends to suggest that Holland is in dialogue with himself, for
Theophilus is an authority under pressure, who resorts to hectoring and
bullying. Nor does Holland seem to have anticipated that Mysodaemon, voicing
Scot’s compassionate scepticism, simply appears more sympathetic than
Theophilus, who is too obviously keen for Christian magistrates to be punishing
sins, and continuously resorts to a set of bible texts that, try as he might,
do not in fact stretch to cover this new crimen
exceptum of witchcraft, with its dogma of sabbat, transvection,
shape-shifting, and diabolic pact. As such things are not in the bible’s
otherwise comprehensive listing of anathema, Theophilus keeps producing
continental demonologists as his authorities, which reduces him to proving the
existence of something by reference to those who asserted its existence.
No doubt Holland
considered that he had won this argument with himself: Mysodaemon’s citations
from Scot dwindle away and finally cease. The eagerly orthodox Theophilus
forces the debate on to new areas, however: it shifts from the reality of
witchcraft to the depravity of those who consult witches and sorcerers (this
was a common development in such texts, and Mysodaemon is simply too
indoctrinated, too elite, to make a general defence of the lower classes in
their unaccountable failure to follow the pious example of Job and suffer in
silence). Finally, the zealous minister in Theophilus embarks on detailing the
preservatives (Holland was fond of expounding ‘preservatives’, against plague
in Spirituall
Preservatives Against the Pestilence and here against
witchcraft), sketching out a household of such formidable godliness and
obedience that witchcraft can gain no purchase, and the assaults of Satan, if
they come, are accepted as trials ordained and permitted by God.
Mysodaemon
does express some incredulity about these prescriptions, but Theophilus huffily
says that he knows some local households that sustain such godly ideals.
Because he sees
the world as a battleground between faith and Satan, the local effect of
Holland’s writing is of frightening moral precariousness. It is best caught in
a snatch of dialogue from his History of
Adam:
“Next, for the
manner of Sathans working in men. As the holy Ghost works invisibly and
spiritually … even so the operation of wicked spirits in unbelievers is by an
invisible and secret breathing and suggestion…”
~ Here, an
authoritative voice coolly describes a peril that seems irresistible. The
supposed interlocutor then blurts out: “Quest. 29. I feel often many strong motions
within me, which cause me to tremble, and I know not whence they come, for I
strive against them & I fear even to name them.”
The question
isn’t really a question at all, but a confession. To what extent are we
diabolically impelled? The comfort offered is thin: “Ans. All Gods people are so troubled in
like manner, much or little.” Such motions and thoughts are not the product of
original sin, nor are they from God (because they are evil), but “such strange
and sodaine motions must come into us by the secret working of Sathan. Let us
then rejoice that we do not entertain them but pray and strive ever against
them.”
You would think
that if he saw Christians as exposed to such impossibly demanding conditions,
witchcraft might erode away in the face of a moral relativism. But of course
not: those who by witchcraft take advantage of the circumstances God is pleased
to permit (of Satan being busy everywhere) simply must be punished.
The first part of
Holland’s short witchcraft treatise consists of Theophilus doing his best to
make the Bible sound to be full of eight distinct types of witchcraft: “If
there were no such sin, wherefore then are there so many kinds named and
distinguished?” It is very learned, but beside the
point: none of the cases match up to witchcraft in its recent definition. This
is the basic challenge Holland (as Mysodaemon) sets himself (as Theophilus):
“There are many
things which are said to be in the witches of our time, which were never heard
of in these old witches, mentioned in Scripture, as namely these points: their
transportations, their bargain with the Devil, their Sathanical sabaoths, their
ointments of the fat of young children, their transformations, and such like miracles
or wonders (as you say, Theophilus.) now prove all these, or any of these
points true in our witches, by Scripture, or any good reason, or authoritie,
and I will believe that we have also in our time right diabolical witches
indeed.”
Theophilus cannot
answer these particulars with particulars: he has to explain away, or
generalise away from the point. He wants the devil to be allowed formidable
power by God, but, despite that large divine permission, only capable of
delusions, supernatural in power, but not miraculous:
“I will not denie, Mysodaemon, but
the devil may delude his witches many ways in these transportations, & that
many fabulous pamphlets [Note: Faustus. Drunken Dunstan. art. & in
p. 156. Drunken
Dunstan seems to be a lost
work about the magic-practising saint] are published,
which give little light and less proof unto this point in controversie. This
first understand, that whatsoever is said of transportations, contrarie to the
nature of our bodies, as to ride on the moon to meet Herodias, &c. all such
things are indeed but mere delusions.”
But the delusiveness
of witches’ ‘experience’ is no excuse for the witch: Theophilus finds that
there are always other grounds for the punishment they deserve: “true it is,
manie of the common sort (I believe well) are not right witches indeed,
notwithstanding they are guiltie of other most vile sins, and most worthie of
death.”
As Mysodaemon pushes
his instructor hard for authority, Theophilus keeps wriggling away to prove
witchcraft out of those who described witchcraft. He tries to open up a space
in which those incredible acts and implausible delusions may in fact be truths
– flying ointment and transvection:
“we must not imagine
that all are but fables … Neither must we reject all the late Inquisitors,
which by the accusations, confessions, condemnations and executions of
innumerable magitians, have learned and gotten some credible experience of the
truth of transportations. Bodin and Danaeus have also sundrie late examples,
when thou hast opportunity, Mysodaemon, thou mayest read them.”
But Mysodaemon very
properly rejects this: “But I cannot
so like, Theophilus, of all these, as of one probable argument of Scripture.”
Holland
evidently thought that Scot had to be taken seriously, and formally repudiated
with convincing arguments. This was the service he thought he was giving. But
Mysodaemon, invented to be persuaded, starts to deliver Scot in Scot’s own
voice:
“I will
not hear, I tell you, neither of Bodins* [Dis. in the praeface. ] bables,
nor Sprengeus fables: I pray you shew me one
example out of some credible Author, if you can.”
Mysodaemon-as-Scot makes Theophilus
tie himself in knots to come up with answers to challenges: “But
you have not one syllable in all the Scriptures of God, to prove any such
league or covenant between Sathan and witches.”
Theophilus concedes:
“We have not indeed any such words or phrases, and yet may we truly conclude,
that there are such things, by Scripture; for the Scripture shewing us the
great readiness and acquaintance of Sathan, with the enchanters of Egypt, the
Pythonist of Endor and Philippi: do therein significantly give us to understand,
that there was some precontract and confederacie between them: for Sathan will
never work in such manner, but with whom he hath some league and acquaintance.”
The
assertion that Satan will only operate with those with whom he has a contract
is derived from contemporary positions: it is then read back into scripture as
something we must infer was happening, and this provides a scriptural basis for
the truth of it happening now.
Holland
is making the best of it, and he is at least being honest in the outright
concessions Theophilus has to keep making:
(Mysodaemon) “[Disco. epist. to the Reader.] Our
witches, strigae, lamiae, our witches are not once mentioned in Scripture: our
old woman, &c. you shall not reade in the Bible of any such Witches.
(Theophilus) “Albeit
the Scripture giveth us no such historical relations of the witches of our
time: yet are they mentioned there both in general and special manner: in
general, where all the sins of idolatrie … and blasphemie are condemned; in
special, where the like sins are named.”
Theophilus needs the
authority of scripture, but puts strain on the divine text to get it, making
analogies and resorting to category shifts: “And had not Sathan also a real
communication with Eve & many others? To be short, I
cannot see, but he that can do the greater, may do the less”.
As one recourse,
Theophilus has intimidation: the arguments of Scot (or Holland’s argument with
himself) constitute a slighting of the divine word:
“If any man consent not to the wholesome words of our Lord Jesus
Christ, and to the doctrine which is according to godliness, he is puffed up
and knoweth nothing, but doteth about questions and strife of words.”
To contradict demonology is a step on the slippery slope to disregard
of the bible’s teachings:
“You are over bold
now Mysodaemon with good writers, and I could somewhat bear
with this boldness, but take heed lest you be found insolent also against God in
the abuse of his blessed word, for that kind of pride is most dangerous.”
In the end, even
though he is losing this particular argument with himself, Henry Holland /Theophilus’
Calvinism has just too much need of evil, it relies on the existence of a
powerful devil: to subtract witchcraft threatens the system. Mysodaemon cites
Scot on the cessation of miracles and of oracles: “Oracles (as you know) are ceased, and no doubt whatsoever hath affinitie with such miraculous
actions, as witchcraft, conjuration, &c. it is knocked on the head, and
nailed on the cross with Christ, who hath broken the power of the devils. What
say you to this, Theophilus?”
Theophilus is brought
entirely into the open by this challenge. To make such a deduction is in his
mind ‘black divinity’: for in his system, the redemption was never meant to be
universal. The elect are secure in their election; for the rest, the power of
devils continues unchecked: “Surely I can but wonder, Mysodaemon, that
any should teach you by speech or by writing, such black divinity in this
bright shining light of the Gospel. For babes in Christianitie, understand that
Christ on his cross, hath so far forth broken the power of sin, as that it
shall never have strength to the condemnation … of his elect. But he never meant
so to take away sin, as that it should have no being in the world, much less to
knock in the head (as thine Author saith) the sins of Sathan & reprobates”.
Theophilus
goes on to denounce this reasoning in Scot as “impious & Anabaptisticall”,
which is either just broad abuse or a more specific insight into Reginald Scot,
who was some way along the route towards an allegorical rather than literal
understanding of the devil.
Mysodaemon
also tries out Scot’s legal argument, the view (famously cited by Sir Robert
Filmer in his Advertisement to the
jurymen of England touching witches) that in law accessories cannot be
convicted if the principal in a case has neither been convicted nor outlawed:
“I pray you give me
leave to speak what I can for our old women, for I am greatly aggrieved to see
the rude multitude so cruel against them, and some Judges so merciless, as to
put these poor innocents to death. I reason thus by law against this unjust crueltie:
I say she is injuriouslie dealt withall if she be the devils [Dis. in epist. ] instrument, in
practising his will, my reasons are. 1. She is put to death for anothers
offence. 2. Actions are not judged by instrumental causes: and
therefore I conclude these old women may not dye for Witchcraft.
This is Lawyers Logic I tell you … Theophilus, what can you
say to this?”
Theophilus has none of
it: “as for thine argument, if it be lawyers inventions, I tell
thee truelie, they be bad advocates in an evil cause. They reason as if they
would have the Honourable Judges to hang the devil, and to suffer the witches
to escape. The same reason may serve anabaptisticallie applied for a libertie
unto all sin …” His general point seems fair, though I don’t understand why he
uses ‘anabaptistically’ to characterise blaming all sins on the devil.
The
next argument taken from Scot’s series of trenchant challenges is that in our
judgements, we should imitate the example given by Christ of forgiveness:
“Christ did [Dis. p. 39. A gross error. ] clearly
remit Peter, though his offence were committed both against his divine and
humane [Divine and humane nature he would have said. ] person: yet afterwards
he did put him in trust to feed his sheep, &c. and therefore we see not but
we may shew compassion upon these poor souls, if they show themselves sorrowful
for their misconceits and wicked imaginations.”
Theophilus refutes this by
generalising it into an absurdity:
“This reason is unsufficient
and very anabaptistical, for it
wrings out of the civil Magistrate’s hand all his power and jurisdiction. Shall
every penitent malefactor be delivered from a temporal punishment, farewell
then all execution of justice.” Of course extraordinary forgiveness does not
mean universal forgiveness – but Theophilus especially seems to want ‘execution
of justice’, there’s a relish for punishment. He continues with the assertion
that the civil Magistrate cannot be “remiss in bodily punishment and justice,
except he have an extraordinary warrant and revelation from God, for his
direction. The law is, Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live: unless
the judge have warrant to repeal this law from Jesus Christ (as Peter had) all
witches lawfully convicted must have their punishments answerable to their
demerits. Again, thou dost not well to call our witchcraft misconceit &
wicked imagination, for I tell thee, it is more.”
The precise meaning
of the notorious Exodus 22: 18 had been debated between the two earlier, with
Mysodaemon citing, after Scot, the translation of mĕkaššēpâ
as a ‘poisoner’ rather than ‘witch’. Theophilus had blandly smoothed this over
by asserting that as witches most commonly killed by poison, as instructed by
Satan, both senses applied to the word in the text. Here, he just uses the
sense he wants, without his earlier admission of a wider meaning. A disputed
law from the Old Testament should be carried out in the Christian world without
worrying about any unhelpful example of Christ’s own forgiveness. A witch is,
in essence, a chance for the Christian magistrate to show that he is never
“remiss in bodily punishment and justice”. Until Jesus himself issues a repeal,
a message delivered - god knows how - of ‘Thou shalt suffer a mĕkaššēpâ to live’, all the saved can do is carry on executing.
In
the end, Theophilus’ best answer to Scot’s Discovery
of Witchcraft is to burn it. In the final stages of their discussion,
Mysodaemon has simply become a stooge to Theophilus, obtuse enough to cite
Scot’s exposure of conjuring tricks
as ‘profane’, ‘wicked’, ‘blasphemous’:
“First, I would
know what your judgement is of some big volumes of witchcraft, which (as far
as I can see) contain sundrie intolerable prophane and wicked
Treatises and forms of idle and vain jugglings and blasphemous conjurations.”
Theophilus is pleased
to be asked, and says that a certain type of reader will only go to Scot for
the wrong reasons, he then produces a piece of Roman Law
“Surely this I think, Mysodaemon, all the godly learned
men, who tenderly regard the good state of the Saints of God, are no doubt aggrieved
in heart to see such horrible impieties suffered to be broached in the open
face of the Church of God: for young wits are more apt to practise these wares
of Sathan which are thus put to sale, then to search for any good purpose in
them, which is most hard to be found. Again, this in a word I add, that the
Lawyers tell us such authors are overtaken by Law: for the Law saith: Libros
magicae artis apudse nemini habere licet, [The Dis. must be commended to Vulcan.] et si penes quoscunque
reperti sunt, bonis ademptis, ambustis{que} ijs publice, in insulam
deportantur, humiliores capite puniuntur. It is lawful for no man to
have the books of Magic, and with whomsoever they are found, their goods
confiscate, and their books openly burnt, they are banished, and the poorer
sort are punished with death. Avoid therefore, Mysodaemon, such
dreadful impieties, I warn thee.”
It might be said
against Holland that there is a tacit admission of failure in this: if you
can’t answer the book, and say, ‘let it be printed, but printed only when bound
up with my answer’, you have to ‘commend [The
Discovery of Witchcraft] to Vulcan’, as he rather coyly puts it (did he not
want to spell it out directly?).
Holland’s book is a
tribute to Reginald Scot’s effectiveness. He did not de-convince himself (if
you have swallowed double predestination, you are not going to worry about a
few reprobates getting rough justice). But an objective reader – if such a
person did exist in late 16th century England – might well have been
more struck by the case against the veracity of witchcraft than the
elasticised, self-referential and hectoring case for belief.
