d was already on the way to the archbishop. He stayed a few days
at Buckden. Thence he slowly made his way to London. On the road a rural
dean consulted him upon the case of a girl with second sight and a
terrific tongue. This damsel would prophetically discover things stolen
or lost, and she had a large following. If any discreet and learned man
tackled her she would talk him down, and put him to rout. She was
brought to meet Hugh by the roadside, amid a crowd of confirmation
candidates. He addressed her, chiding not so much the damsel as the
demon within her, "Come now, unhappy girl, what can you divine for us?
Tell me please, if you can, what this hand holds in it?" He held out his
right hand closed over his stole end. She made no reply, but fell at
his feet in a sort of faint. After a pause he bade them lift her up and
asked through the dean (for he was ignorant of the country woman's talk)
how she had learnt to divine? "I cannot divine. I implore the mercy of
this holy bishop," she replied, and knelt at his feet. He laid his hands
upon her head, prayed, blessed her, and sent her to the Prior of
Huntingdon, the penitentiary priest of the district, to hear her
confession. She not only gave up witchcraft, but ceased to be
brazen-faced and a shrew: so that people bruited this matter as a
miracle, and a handsome one it was. The bishop probably saved her from
the vengeance of this rural dean, for witch-burning was not unknown even
then, as Walter de Map witnesses. This was not the first essay of our
bishop in witch-laying. When he was still Prior of Witham, Bartholomew,
Bishop of Exeter, a learned and pious man, and one of St. Thomas'
opposers, consulted him upon a sad case. Bishop Bartholomew was
interested in spiritualism (which shews the same face in every century,
and never adds much to its phenomena), as Matthew Paris recounts. A poor
girl was the prey of a most violent and cruel Incubus, whom no fasts or
austerities could divorce from her. Hugh suggested united prayer on her
behalf, which was made, but not answered. A rival Incubus, however, came
upon the scenes, of a softer mood, and wooed with mild speeches. He
promised to deliver her, and pointed out the perforated St. John's wort
as a herb odious to devils. This the artful woman put in her bosom and
her house, and kept both suitors at bay.{14} The bishop was much struck
with this story, as well he might be, and used often to tell it. A monk
told him another simil