name was one hardly known by his
contemporaries, but he has since become a figure in the annals of
English roguery. Very recently his life has found record among those of
"Twelve Bad Men."[1]

What we know of him up to the time of his first appearance in his
successful role about March of 1644/5 is soon told. He was the son of
James Hopkins, minister of Wenham[2] in Suffolk. He was "a lawyer of but
little note" at Ipswich, thence removing to Manningtree. Whether he may
have been the Matthew Hopkins of Southwark who complained in 1644 of
inability to pay the taxes[3] is more than doubtful, but there is reason
enough to believe that he found the law no very remunerative profession.
He was ready for some new venture and an accidental circumstance in
Manningtree turned him into a wholly new field of endeavor. He assumed
the role of a witchfinder and is said to have taken the title of
witchfinder-general.[4]

He had made little or no preparation for the work that now came to his
hand. King James's famous _Daemonologie_ he was familiar with, but he may
have studied it after his first experiences at Manningtree. It seems
somewhat probable, too, that he had read, and indeed been much
influenced by, the account of the Lancashire witches of 1612, as well as
by Richard Bernard's _Advice to Grand Jurymen_. But, if he read the
latter book, he seems altogether to have misinterpreted it. As to his
general information and education, we have no data save the hints to be
gained from his own writings. His letter to John Gaule and the little
brochure which he penned in self-defence reveal a man able to express
himself with some clearness and with a great deal of vigor. There were
force of character and nervous energy behind his defiant words. It is no
exaggeration, as we shall see in following his career, to say that the
witch crusader was a man of action, who might in another field have made
his mark.

To know something of his religious proclivities would be extremely
interesting. On this point, however, he gives us no clue. But his fellow
worker, John Stearne, was clearly a Puritan[5] and Hopkins was surely of
the same faith. It can hardly be proved, however, that religious zeal
prompted him in his campaign. For a time of spiritual earnestness his
utterances seem rather lukewarm.

It was in his own town that his attention was first directed towards the
dangers of witchcraft. The witches, he tells us, were accustomed to hold
their m