What spurs you to send for us
so urgent, Justice Pike?
There is here in the village a young couple
who claim their mother, Elizabeth Gadge, is a sorceress
and much talk of her devilry they do recount.
We will be the judges of what is or is not devilry, sir.
Indeed. We've just ridden from Southampton,
where an iron founder had reported a black imp hopping side to side
in a chimney stack and taunting him
that his hair was fair like a maiden. How monstrous.
In truth, the imp was nothing but a carrion crow
caught by the leg in a griddle.
Indeed. Things are not always as they seem.
It is true. The crow may not have been an imp,
but was in fact a familiar, and it did tell us when questioned
the iron founder was himself bedevilled.
The crow did not tell me that, Mr Warren.
I heard it say nothing.
What action was served?
We were paid by the mayor quite handsomely, and the iron founder
was sent to trial in accordance with our methods.
And was he found guilty?
After several hours, his tongue was made loose.
By what persuasion?
It was cut from his head with tailor scissors, to which he died.
The devil did throttle him that he would not reveal his accomplices.
Your reputations precede you, gentlemen.
News of our witch has spread.
Our inns are thriving with new trade.
Not since the escaped cow has there been such excitement here.
Well, then, let there be investigation
and arraignment of this old woman, and in the morning we will consider
how far Satan prevails amongst you in respect of witchcraft.
Heaven save us.
Have you enough light, Mr Clarke? It will suffice.
I have a list of fees and expenses thus far, Justice Pike.
Yes, of course. It will be paid forthwith.
Linen and sundries, pomade and foot powder,
various inns and dwelling houses in and of our three-day ride,
and to maintain the company of our horse. 20 shillings.
20 shillings. Yes, well, I suppose there are yet two of you.
Oh, this was for my services alone.
Mr Clarke has his own bill for presentment. Oh, I see.
Which can be visited after a verdict is settled, Justice Pike,
lest she is innocent and her accusers prove wrong.
Tis unlikely, from the little I have heard.
Which is nothing.
Let us at least hear the testimony of the poor old crone
before we reward ourselves with gold for burning her to death.
Before we begin, gentlemen, would you permit me
to set down your likeness in my book,
that I may remember this, our meeting?
Of course. Thank you.
I will have it framed and hang it in your honour.
Sir Andrew, would you like me to do a likeness of all of you together?
If it is no imposition? Very well.
This is our cobbler, Richard Two-Shoes.
He will serve to guard the old woman during our trial.
God bless you, gentlemen.
'Tis a great honour for me to aid you in the trial of this witch.
Indeed, Richard, but use not the word witch
until she hath made her confession.
We must give the hag a fair hearing.
Witch, witch!
She must be here. Shall I let them in, your honour? Very well.
Oh, God.
Want to see her burn!
Order! Order!
Welcome to the Little Happens witch trial.
I know many of you are strangers to our parish,
but we wish to welcome you here today.
Whilst visiting Little Happens, may I recommend you explore
our village green, which has a pond with a duck.
And a bench! Yes, we must not forget the bench.
Should that not be exciting enough, we welcome
two of our country's leading witch finders -
Mr Warren and Mr Clarke.
We are but here to serve the Lord in his quest
to rid England of these damnable practices.
Now, bring forth the witch!
Er, the accused woman.
Witch! Witch!
What is happening here?
Sarah! What is this?
I was in bed, I had hot milk.
Or was it cold milk from a devil's tit, Elizabeth Gadge?
Eh? Who are you that ask with such authority?
Elizabeth Anne Gadge,
you have been accused of the practice of witchcraft and sorcery.
What? There are those here who think you are an enchantress.
You are to be tested.
Who? Who here calls me witch?
I do.
And I. What?
This is for their attic room returned.
They have wanted rid of me since my husband took sick and died.
He and four cows in one morning.
A week did it take to dig a hole big enough!
If, after trial by council, being duly and lawfully convicted,
ye shall suffer the pains of death
and shall lose the privilege of clergy and sanctuary.
What means he by that? Shush! Quiet, Sarah. All will be well.
Oh, my daughter, you need only have asked for the space.
I was moving out within one month.
I'd found a little cottage in the next village.
Much Happens - an exceedingly dull place.
Let us hear what has brought you to this point.
Come forward, Thomas and Goodwife Nutter.
Warren, Clarke, you may proceed.
So tell us now of all ye spied, Thomas Nutter,
and Mr Clarke will take heed of it
and writ as evidence your cursed testimony.
That we may better remember the facts of this matter.
My name is Thomas Nutter, and this here be my wife, Sarah Nutter.
We did, yesternight and for many nights afore, spy Elizabeth Gadge,
mother of my wife, creep abroad and meet with a fiend... CROWD WHISPERS
..covered, as we saw, in brown fur,
and suck upon a black teat until sunrise. What?!
Swear you to these sights, Goody Nutter?
Indeed it is true, sir.
I have followed her myself whilst Thomas has been sleeping or at shit
and I sometimes seen a white dog appear and dance a jig.
Yes, it lives next door. Tis a spaniel called Rory.
Silence!
How oft has Old Gadge, creeping, met and suckled at the black teat?
Never! I've suckled on a few things in my three score and ten,
but never a black teat.
By the authority of this court, I demand silence!
You shut your hole, Elizabeth Gadge. May I strike the witch, sir?
Not just yet, Richard Two-Shoes.
Perhaps we should introduce Mistress Gadge
to the witch's stitch, your honour.
Is this one of your fabled witch-finding devices?
No, your honour. It is but a needle and thread.
Mr Warren will sew up the crone's mouth
that she be more encouraged to listen than talk.
Sarah, relate also the sighting of the imp
that met in your mother's company.
Now we get to it.
I did see my mother converse with an imp
in the shape of a small mouse,
which she did keep hidden in a wicker bottle.
I see. And could this imp in fact be a small mouse in a wicker bottle?
Er... I had thought so too, but Sarah did hear it speak
in a strange language, and Elizabeth Gadge did reply.
Had the creature a name? She did call it Snowflake.
And she did whisper to it and laugh.
And was this language like that of a mouse squeaking?
You know it? These are learned men, Goody Nutter,
and have witnessed much that is strange.
So you concede, Elizabeth Gadge, that you gave this creature a title?
Yes, he was as white as the snow, so I named him Snowflake.
You named him? Aye. What manner of crime is that?
What is "named" backwards?
Get me ink and paper.
Demon! It's demon!
Demon! Demon! Demon!
Ssh, ssh!
D...Demon!
Demon!
Precisely!
Well, no. It's "deman", isn't it?
'Tis close enough.
Make a note, Mr Clarke, that Elizabeth Gadge confesses
having had discourse with the demon known as Snowflake.
Such an imputation is somewhat lacking in evidence.
Would you not agree, Mr Warren?
Then add this creature to our witness list, Mr Clarke.
And we will hear before god what this Snowflake has to say.
Squeak, squeak, squeak.
What is your name?
George Waterhouse.
And you have witnessed events
which may be of some interest to this hearing?
Well, only this -
I did spy Elizabeth Gadge fly out the window on a shovel,
whereat she rode to the Sabbat
and did kiss the devil's arse and eat a baby's face off.
When... Just a moment.
"..and eat...
"a baby's...
"face off."
Continue.
When was this?
Last Tuesday night, about five past, ten past 11.
Thank you, Mr Waterhouse.
Tell us more of this arse kissing.
How close did you spy it?
Was it right on the hole or just on the cheek?
Er...
Mr Waterhouse, I take it you are known to Elizabeth Gadge,
is that right? I suppose.
In what capacity? We did have dealings in livestock.
She did sell a cow to me of late.
And after a short time I surmise this cow did die, did it not?
Yes, it bloody well did.
And I paid good money to her husband,
and he too did die, owing me ten shillings!
You may sit down, Mr Waterhouse. Your unbiased testimony is noted.
Please, your worship, we move these proceedings
to the questioning of Elizabeth Gadge.
Very well, but we must hear more of the Sabbat and all its rites.
For example, is it just the devil who has his arse kissed
or can anyone be forced to endure it?
Elizabeth Gadge.
What manner of fiend is it that you creep to nightly and suckle on?
I know not of what you speak.
I'm but a frail old woman who is in bed by evensong.
My tormentors know this to be true.
So you deny any knowledge of a brown thing of fur?
A brown thing of fur?
Think carefully before you answer, Old Mistress Gadge.
I...have a brown hat of such a description.
It is for winter and the cold.
And does this hat walk upright on two legs
and have hang from it a black teat?
'Tis plain, as I remember.
And, being a hat, has no legs or titties to speak of.
Something amuse you, Mr Waterhouse?
A hat with titties!
It would be unfortunate that our discovery of this sorceress
should uncover diverse others in this court.
Not since summer last have Mr Clarke and I unearthed a coven of witches.
I read of it. 'Twas in Leeds.
And what was the cause?
Did they find a tree with three teats and a cunny?
Or did they spy the devil's bush upon your chin?
Silence! If you value your lives, silence!
Laughter contorts the face and makes monkeys of men.
Only the devil would turn such sport.
The next person here to laugh will immediate die as a witch.
Starting from...
..now.
Ha! Who was that? Which of you was that?
Confess it! Which is the witch?
It was old Waterhouse, Mr Warren! Shut up, you rat,
or she won't be the only one kissing the devil's arse!
He'll fart in your mouth, you fat... Fart in my mouth, I'll piss in your breakfast.
Enough!
You undermine the solemn purpose of this undertaking.
Let us stay focused on Old Mistress Gadge.
Indeed. I move we continue this trial in private. I agree.
Perhaps it is just as well, for the testing of the accused
is not for the faint-hearted.
What's that?
Court dismissed.
Well, you brought it on yourselves.
So these could be used on thumbs or toes?
That is correct, your honour. Most versatile.
And this... The pear.
It can be inserted into any orifice and expanded to the point of...
Ecstasy.
..agony. Agony, yes.
But my preferred method is pricking.
Lay bare her back.
Cut the cloth, if need be, and hold her still.
Please, have mercy. This top was a present.
Let me but take it off carefully. There's no need to ruin it!
The devil may have laid his mark upon you.
It is for us to discover it.
Just to be clear, if she bleeds, she is a witch?
No, quite the opposite. If she bleeds she is not a witch?
Not necessarily. The devil's mark may be well hidden.
Then we must keep pricking her till she do stop bleeding,
at which time we will know that she is or is not a witch, possibly.
Correct. All is clear. Proceed.
Sarah, am I not still your mother?
Have mercy on me.
Thomas, please? We know what we saw.
It was dark. It could have been anyone. Or anything!
Besides, the attic room would serve us well, Sarah.
Where else are we to dry the sheets? They're big.
Oh, please stop! What is it, Sarah Nutter?
Did you not expect horrors such as these to unfold?
We may have been mistook.
Perhaps it was a shadow, a trick of the twilight.
You lie, Goody Nutter. No!
The truth is we don't know what we saw. Sarah!
Who is this night-time fiend that you so visit? An incubus?
Beelzebub? What was his name?
Argh! It was him!
Richard Two-Shoes.
Richard Two-Shoes the cobbler.
She lies. She lies, your worship!
Prick her again.
Argh! I did meet sometimes with him after dark.
He would pay me a shilling a suck, and I would do it!
Is this true, Richard? No, sir, I swear it.
I do not stir out after dark, my wife will vouch for it.
Very well. We will get to the bottom of this.
Call forth Goody Two-Shoes.
Richard Two-Shoes,
have you spent night after night with this vile hag?
Yes, your worship.
But she's my wife and 'tis the law, is it not?
We were referring to Old Mistress Gadge.
Is it true you've had several night-time meetings with her?
No, sir. On the eyes of my children I swear it.
'Twas not for love, Goody Two-Shoes.
'Twas done only to pay my son-in-law rent.
He would always cry your name when he did climax
and throw out his curdle.
For the court records, is that of any comfort, Goody Two-Shoes?
He spoke fondly of my mouth. He liked not your teeth
and said they were like a box of nails should he put in his rod.
I never said that! My wife can suck like a leech.
Show them, Rachel. Show Sir Andrew what miracles your mouth can work.
That will not be necessary.
Come, come, Mr Two-Shoes.
The old woman's life hangs in the balance if you do not confess it.
Richard. Please?
They will burn me else.
Did I not bring you pleasure?
Never.
I had no such meetings.
Justice Pike, I move to adjourn the court
and continue afresh in the morning.
We will apply hot oil and other methods overnight
to freshen the old woman's recollection of events.
Very well. Till 8am tomorrow. I will to my chambers.
I'll just put that back.
Yet more imps and devils in the fireplace, Mr Warren.
Evil can be found peeping from anywhere,
Mr Clarke, as you well know.
But care you not for this old woman?
'Tis plain as day the Nutters want rid of her from under their roof
and have cried witch as a solution.
Whatever the reason, the trial will uncover it.
By the continuation of her torture.
Yes. What possible cause have you to question
the fairness of our work, Clarke?
Witchcraft is punishable by death,
and perhaps the burden of pointing the finger has made me weary.
Burden? You live handsomely and are commended by God and the law alike.
But what of this dear old mistress,
presently dragged here to convince us of her purity,
having done nothing more than keep a mouse in a bottle
and suck to completion a man in a brown coat?
If we consign her body to the flames,
do we not do the devil's work ourselves?
Tread cautiously, Mr Clarke, lest you find yourself accused.
Whatever the cost, the Lord's work will be done.
I agree, and I will pray to him for guidance.
Good morning, gentlemen!
I trust you slept well? Not really.
Thank heaven we had no rain and the pyre has remained dry for tonight.
Er, should we have a confession of guilt, of course. Of course.
We have heard tell of visitors from all three shires,
and a travelling fair has alighted on the green.
The innkeepers are saying we could be bigger than Pendle!
You will need change the name of your village, Justice Pike.
Indeed. They will be most envious in Much Happens.
Is that the same woman as yesterday? Seems taller than before.
She has been stretched, your honour,
in pursuit of the truth.
Bring in her accusers.
Are you ready to confess, Elizabeth?
You are weak. Perhaps some food might revive you?
Bring the court to order.
Mr Warren, Mr Clarke, you may proceed.
Elizabeth Gadge has yet to confess to her crimes.
I propose one final test that will seal her fate
in your eyes and in the eyes of God.
Mr Clarke.
The court calls the demon known as Snowflake.
Please, please, remain calm. You have nothing to fear.
Christ in heaven! It's transformed itself into a bottle!
The bottle is indeed a bottle
and the familiar hides inside.
Richard, release the imp. But look you, be careful,
lest it may bite.
Oh!
Now let us observe the demon as it seeks out its mistress the witch.
Oh! Be calm, Justice Pike.
The truth will out.
Snowflake.
Hello, my lovely. She is a witch.
See, 'tis proved! It's only a mouse.
Elizabeth Gadge, do you now acknowledge your crimes?
Did you meet and have relations with a fiend, dance with a white dog
and keep council with this monstrous familiar? No, sir.
And did you by transvection fly to the Sabbat on a shovel
and lick and caress the devil's arse with your long probing tongue?
Never. But your familiar has proven otherwise.
Prepare the witch for execution.
Elizabeth Anne Gadge,
you have been found guilty of witchcraft
and are to be taken to a place of execution,
where you will be burned at the stake until you are dead.
Tickets are now on sale at the Green Man Inn.
Family tokens include a free potato to bake on the fire,
and may the Lord have mercy on your soul.
Art thou content?
Mother? 'Tis I, Sarah.
Thomas is here too.
We've come to say goodbye.
I don't know why. Witch! Thomas!
Justice Pike has let us have two seats on the front row,
so that's nice. 'Tis only fair.
We put all your belongings on the fire.
Two birds, one stone, and all that.
Yeah, we've moved the babes up to your...the attic room.
Aye, and we've yet so much space.
Goody Garden next door is green with envy.
She says she's going to accuse her mother.
Well, she'd better not, else they'll all be doing it.
I am afraid you must leave now.
It is my duty to administer the last rites
to your mother before she burns.
Righto. We'd best take to our seats.
Kiss the devil's arse for me!
Goodbye, Mother.
I'm sorry.
I too am sorry.
I can scarce believe it has come to this.
We were partners, you and I, Matthew. Against evil.
But you have become infected.
Evil has grown within you.
Your zealotry's turned to bigotry and worse.
You said we must do God's work, whatever the cost.
May he have mercy on your wretched soul.
Good, good. They are within, you say?
Ah. They're selling these hats at the fair.
Rather amusing, I thought.
Would you care for a toffee apple? No, I thank ye.
The witch is prepared.
Excellent. Well, guards, take her outside and bind her to the stake.
I have yet to see Mr Warren. I have money here to present him.
I shall see that he gets it.
I just hope there are no more witch trials in Little Happens.
No, for myself I'm glad. A most rewarding endeavour.
I shall rather miss all the excitement.
You don't think the daughter might have been involved?
I think not. No, no. Just a thought.
Well, I must attend outside.
They're insistent that I be the one to light the fire.
You are ridding us of a great evil, Mr Clarke.
Yes, I do believe I am.
All is clear. You may show yourself.
Thanking you kindly, sir. How can I ever repay you?
Your continued life is my reward, Elizabeth.
Here, take this.
You must away from this village lest our stratagem be discovered.
Let me first but suck you a little, sir,
to show my gratitude. There is no need.
But you murdered your friend, Mr Clarke.
What I did, I did for the Lord.
And the devil thanks you kindly.
Come, Snowflake. Our work here is done.
Let us to the Sabbat and tell our master these happy tidings.