otes the tale, without citing his authority. The
witnesses for the falling of stones round the bewitched girl were
the maid herself, and her master, John Pyne, who deposed that she
was 'much troubled with little stones that were thrown at her
wherever she went, and that, after they had hit her, would fall on
the ground, and then vanish, so that none of them could be found'.
This peculiarity beset Mr. Stainton Moses, when he was fishing, and
must have 'put down' the trout. Objects in the maid's presence,
such as Bibles, would 'fly from her,' and she was bewitched, and
carried off into odd places, like the butler at Lord Orrery's.
Nicholas Pyne gave identical evidence. At Ragley, Mr. Greatrakes
declared that he was present at the trial, and that an awl would not
penetrate the stool on which the unlucky enchantress was made to
stand: a clear proof of guilt.

Here, then, we have the second phenomenon which interested the
circle at Ragley; the flying about of stones, of Bibles, and other
movements of bodies. Though the whole affair may be called
hysterical imposture by Mary Longdon (who vomited pins, and so
forth, as was customary), we shall presently trace the reports of
similar events, among people of widely remote ages and countries,
'from China to Peru'.

Among the guests at Ragley, as we said, was Dr. Joseph Glanvill, who
could also tell strange tales at first hand, and from his own
experience. He had investigated the case of the disturbances in Mr.
Mompesson's house at Tedworth, which began in March, 1661. These
events, so famous among our ancestors, were precisely identical with
what is reported by modern newspapers, when there is a 'medium' in a
family. The troubles began with rappings on the walls of the house,
and on a drum taken by Mr. Mompesson from a vagrant musician. This
man seems to have been as much vexed as Parolles by the loss of his
drum, and the Psychical Society at Ragley believed him to be a
magician, who had bewitched the house of his oppressor. While Mrs.
Mompesson was adding an infant to her family the noise ceased, or
nearly ceased, just as, at Epworth, in the house of the Rev. Samuel
Wesley, it never vexed Mrs. Wesley at her devotions. Later, at
Tedworth, 'it followed and vexed the younger children, beating their
bedsteads with that violence, that all present expected when they
would fall in pieces'. . . . It would lift the children up in their
beds. Objects were moved: lights fli