conference.  In the end, in this great assemblie it was decreed that M. Covell, [he was the gaoler of Lancaster Castle,] by reason of his Office, shall be slaine before the next Assises, the Castle at Lancaster to be blown up,” &c., &c.  This witches’ convention, so historically famous, we unquestionably owe to the “painful justice” whose scent after witches and plots entitled him to a promotion which he did not obtain.  An overt act so alarming and so indisputable, at once threw the country, far and near, into the greatest ferment—­furiis surrexit Etruria justis—­while it supplied an admirable locus in quo for tracing those whose retiring habits had prevented their propensities to witchcraft from being generally known to their intimate friends and connexions.  The witness by whose evidence this legend was principally supported, was Jennet Device, a child about nine years old, and grand-daughter of old Demdike.  A more dangerous tool in the hands of an unscrupulous evidence-compeller, being at once intelligent, cunning and pliant, than the child proved herself, it would not have been easy to have discovered.  A foundation being now laid capable of embracing any body of confederates, the indefatigable justice proceeded in his inquiries, and in the end, Elizabeth Device the daughter of old Demdike, James Device her son, Alice Nutter, Katherine Hewitt, John Bulcock, Jane Bulcock, with some others, were committed for trial at Lancaster.  The very curious report of that trial is contained in the work now republished, which was compiled under the superintendence of the judges who presided, by Master Thomas Potts, clerk in court, and present at the trial.  His report, notwithstanding its prolixity and its many repetitions, it has been thought advisable to publish entire, and the reprint which follows is as near a fac-simile as possible of the original tract.

[Footnote 35:  Baines confounds Malking-Tower with Hoar-stones, a place rendered famous by the second case of pretended witchcraft in 1633, but at some distance from the first-named spot, the residence of Mother Demdike, which lies in the township of Barrowford.  The witch’s mansion—­

           “Where that same wicked wight
    Her dwelling had—­
    Dark, doleful, dreary, like a greedy grave
    That still for carrion carcases doth crave,
    On top whereof ay dwelt the ghastly owle,
    Shrieking his baleful note, which ever drave
    Far from that haunt all other cheerful fowl,
    And all about it wandering ghosts did wail and howle”—­

is now, alas! no more.  It stood in a field a little elevated, on a brow above the building at present called Malking-Tower.  The site of the house or cottage is still distinctly traceable, and fragments of the plaster are yet to be found imbedded in the boundary wall of the field.  The old road to Gisburne ran almost close to it.  It commanded a most extensive prospect in front, in the direction of Alkincoates, Colne, and the Yorkshire moors; while in another direction the vast range of Pendle, nearly intercepted, gloomed in sullen majesty.  At the period when Mother Demdike was in being, Malking-Tower would be at some distance from any other habitation; its occupier, as the vulgar would opine—­