A couple of weeks ago I was recalling tales of "witches" who were known for 'overlooking' – casting a glance that might result in illness or injury to the 'overlooked' person or their property. Glancing through a 50-year-old copy of the Exmoor Review recently I came across another story of overlooking recounted by Miss M S Oldham of Wootton Courtenay.

Ann Swight, an aged widow, lived in the valley with her daughter, and had somehow acquired a reputation for 'overlooking' partly, perhaps, because of her flashing brown eyes, commanding presence and peremptory speech. One day, every pig in the valley was struck down by a mysterious illness. They lay panting on their sides and refused food. No-one could explain the cause but had old Mrs Swight been annoyed by any of her neighbours? In a case of this kind, there was only one hope and, after much talk, the distracted farmers commissioned the old parish clerk, whose pig also lay at death's door, to go to Exeter to appeal to the 'White Witch' there who was, it was said, able to weave a counter spell. A journey so far afield involved much preparation, and apprehension, and Parson was appealed to, to help in the arrangements, though he was not informed of the reason for the expedition. The messenger returned with the news that the spell was broken. Next day every pig had recovered, but, before the week was out, Mrs Swight was dead. Had the breaking of the spell been too drastic? Be that as it may, all the farmers in the neighbourhood came to the funeral, each one looking more hangdog and guilty than the next.

Another interesting character was Nicholas Lee, held in awe by his neighbours. He had a deep knowledge of herbs, and healing, and was of a kindly disposition. He had been brought up in a lonely dwelling right out on the moor. Once Miss Oldham had been riding in that vicinity and on the way home happened to meet Nicholas and told him where she had been. He replied: "My father, he built that there little old cottage with his own hands, and I was reared there. Very lonesome 'twas, for I were the only chiel."

"But," she said, "you have learned books, and you study them. How did you learn to read and write so far away from any chance of schooling?"

'Ah,' he said, his blue eyes full of meaning, 'there's more way's of learning to read and write than going to school."

By that time Nicholas was living in a cottage close to the little churchyard, high above the sea. Once, in a burst of confidence, and only because he had known Miss Oldham all her life, he spoke to her of a curious experience.

"I knows," he said, "when a death is going to take place in the parish, even when it be ever so sudden-like. Do 'ee mind when Farmer Jim Smith was a-throwd oft of his horse, and broke his neck? Well, the night afore he was killed, I were a-laying awake listening to the owls, when I hears the sounds of pickaxe and shovel, clitter, clatter, clitter, clatter, out in the dark o' the churchyard. 'Tis a grave getting ready for some 'un, thought I, whomever can ee be? 'Twas wanted right enough, and I've aheard they same sounds other times too, and allus a death to follow."

A friend of Miss Oldham's, Elizabeth Trout, told her of how Nicholas Lee could cure aches and pains. "I mind," she said, "as how I'd the boneshave terrible bad in me arm, so I went to he, and he stroked me arm and said the Blessed Words seven times, and in seven days me pains were a-goed."

"And what were the Blessed Words?"

"Law, bless 'ee, to be sure, if I'd a-knowd 'em, there wouldn't have been no need to go to he. You may call it a pack o' old nonsense, but they was wunnerful good words, they was, for all that. And they ended up: 'And cast the rheumatiz to the bottom of the Red Sea, and never trouble Elizabeth Trout no more'."

Biblical references in the healing charms (or prayers) of 'white witches' were not uncommon. In a book compiled by Jane Howe, a wise woman from Dulverton, was found the following cure for a hemorrhage:

"As I was going in Jordan Wood

There was the water and there it stood

So shall thy blood stay in thy body (name)

I do bless thee in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost."

Another example was found in the daybook of carpenter and millwright Richard Huxtable of Challacombe. The daybook which covered the nine months between July 1824 and March 1825 records Richard's working visits to mills all over Exmoor, carpentry work in houses like the Parsonage at Challacombe as well as outdoor jobs felling trees and sawing timber.

It is a fascinating record but there is one most unusual entry which reads: "When our blest savour was in the garden of Eden the cruel Jews scourged him with thorns his flesh did neither fester nor rankle no more shan't thine Elizabeth Brayle. In the name of the father and of the son and of the holy gost, Amen." Was Richard Huxtable regarded as someone with powers of healing, I wonder?

HILARY BINDING