Reclaiming Nanny Morgan

Witchcraft is in the bones of Shropshire folk, if we are to believe folklorist Charlotte Burne. She recounted that magic was so ingrained in local communities, that when a new vicar took parish near Clee Hill, he was shocked to see the prominence of witchcraft in daily life. He was advised in no uncertain terms not to preach of its ills, lest he awake the wrath of the locals. This anecdote is wonderful and could be interpreted in a number of ways. It would be easy to suggest that the warning was a threat to the vicar, after all, the Clee Hills area is synonymous with witchcraft, spectral black dogs and was also thought to be the stronghold of the Devil. Perhaps the vicar’s proselytising was to put him at peril. However, a more accurate portrayal is that it demonstrates the place of witchcraft in rural societies. It suggests that such practices were so engrained in the daily life of Shropshire folk, that any interference from the clergymen would have been pointless, falling on deaf ears. With this in mind, it also suggests that such practices were hard to separate from Shropshire life or difficult to define. Witchcraft took on many guises, from apotropaic markings and charms which ensure protection, to moon reverence, fortune telling, cursing and love charms, such as the ‘Plucking the Sage tree’ which I will be looking at in more detail in a further post.

 Understandably, with such a prevalence of witchcraft within the Shropshire area, a number of individuals have entered popular memory as witches, or even wizards, such as the wonderfully named Dick Spot the conjurer. These stories can be found both within the folklore, with women such as Jean Salvage, Becky Smout, and Maisy Bloomer being lauded as witches as well as historical references. For example, historical records tell us that in March 1580 a Shrewsbury woman known as ‘Mother Gawe’ was found guilty of witchcraft and punished by pillory. Also, in Shrewsbury during the 18^th century, Mary Bebb was charged with ‘profanely uttering 67 curses’ which was also purportedly related to witchcraft. However, perhaps the best example of the ‘witch’ in Shropshire is a woman known as ‘Nanny Morgan’.

Ann Morgan is an incredibly misunderstood figure, who has suffered from over a century of misinformation and stereotyping regarding her life, and character. She was so much more than folklore would allow us to believe and thus, I believe now is the right time to share her story and restore the woman behind the witch.

The story of Nanny Morgan has captivated me for as long as I can remember. She has been the subject of my research now for over two years, and I can safely say I still feel the same. Folklore had reduced her to ‘the wicked Witch of Much Wenlock’, fiendish in life, and in death a ghost still capable of wielding unholy powers of seduction. However, this is not the end of her story. Ann Morgan was a complex person, characterised by her multitudes and can be seen to represent the collective experience of many women throughout history. She demonstrates the how corrupting the belief in the existence of witches can be to a community, well into the 19^th century. Even when you read relatively modern accounts of her life and tragic death, she is presented as a stock character, devoid of personhood, and presented negatively. She still suffers from the stereotyping placed upon her in life. It has always been my goal to remove these stereotypes. I want to paint an image of the woman in all of her colour, with all the complexities and intricacies of human life apparent.

 Ann was in many ways a woman of contradictions. She was by all accounts a formidable woman, imbued with strength and a strong sense of self, yet a vulnerable person, trapped by the expectations of her gender and social situation. She was not perfect, but neither was the patriarchal world in which she navigated, which limited and harmed women. Women who were too powerful or diverged from societies expectations were lambasted as witches or harlots or whatever insulting term that one could think of. By deviating from expectations, such women were doomed to suffer at the hands of the collective. Sadly, this would be Ann’s fate. For much of what we can discern about Ann, comes from the reports of her death. I believe it is my duty to share her story, to ensure that she becomes more than her folklore again. Some of what I am about to present mirrors the folklore we have for her, whilst other information is completely independent, and demonstrates the importance of honouring historical legacies in folkloric narratives.

So let us journey to Shropshire now, to explore the life of Ann Morgan.

Traditionally, Ann Morgan’s date of birth was not known, however in some accounts it was suggested that she was born around 1796, due to the way her age was listed on the 1851 census. However, having looked into the records, I can now confidently say that she was born earlier, and baptised in Much Wenlock on the 29^th of May 1791, into the Anglican faith. This date correlates with her burial records, which state that she was 66 at the time of death in 1857. Ann was the daughter of Richard and Martha Williams, who were married on 4^th November 1779 in the nearby Harley Village. They are currently the focus of my research, so hopefully I can soon discern more about their lives. The family lived in the ‘Five Chimneys’ area of Westwood Common on Wenlock Edge. I had previously read that they lived in a house with five chimneys, or a cottage by that name, but I now know this not to be true.

‘The Five Chimneys’ were a small row of buildings built as part of 13 cottages for limestone workers in 1800. They were near a common and not too far from the villages of Bourton and Presthope. Limestone quarrying was a key part of local industry and these properties served as housing for the community right until they were demolished in the 1960s. These close-knit houses would have been simple but were to be the axis of Ann’s world as she grew up. This suggests that perhaps Richard was involved in some way with the limestone quarry, though at this point it is just speculation. Perhaps he, or someone within his family were quarrymen and thus had come to live in these houses.  Little is known at this point about Ann’s early life; however, we are provided a description of her during girlhood. She was said to be tall, darkhaired with steely grey eyes and a stern countenance. I wonder how much of this is accurate, or if the community is trying to preface her later behaviour by presenting her as atypical to traditional girlhood, or different from her peers.

Her story really begins in 1809, when both folklore and history suggest that she was implicated in a robbery whilst working as a servant for Mrs Powell In Bourton, alongside a girl called Mary Beamond. It is not certain who instigated such a theft, though the stolen goods, including clothing were found in Ann’s possession. Both girls were tried for the offense at the Shrewsbury Assizes and found guilty. I have managed to locate the date of the trial to the 29^{th of} March 1809, and interestingly, folklorist Charlotte Burne had an actual letter in her possession written by Ann to her father just before the trial. She includes this letter in ‘a Sheaf of Gleanings’ the seminal work on Shropshire folklore.

 The letter is brief, and its purpose is to ask for money as she ‘has imploid an atturney and counsellor’ for her trial. She states in the letter that as ‘the time is near at hand’ she would like to see her parents at the trial. She also tells her father that ‘Mary Beamun bids to be remembered to her mother and hur must get hur money without fail and send it’ suggesting that Mary is not literate, and Ann is working on her behalf. Ann signs off the letter as ‘Your dutiful daughter, Ann’ and if find this letter fascinating. It is a tantalising glimpse of Ann’s life during a difficult time. It is formal, respectful, and though littered with spelling mistakes (which Charlotte Burne has preserved in the original format in the book) it demonstrates that Ann was literate and was thinking critically about her situation. She has sought out and employed an attorney, to provide her with judicial representation in her trial, and this shows the independent streak that would characterise her later life. The outcome of the trial saw the women sentenced as guilty. Folklore states that Beamond was to be transported whilst Ann was imprisoned. Interestingly, I have found the record for Mary Beamond’s transportation, as well as some anecdotal evidence about her family. Mary Beamond was said to be the daughter of Betty Beamond who was the last person to do penance in a white sheet in Much Wenlock. This was usually the fate of an adulterer. The records suggest that Mary was found guilty and sentenced to 7 years transportation. She travelled with 121 other convicts on ‘The Canada’ and arrived in New South Wales on 8^th September 1810. One cannot help but wonder what the conditions were like on that transportation ship, and what her life was life in Australia. I would love to find out more about Mary, to add more colour to the narrative.

The Folklore suggests that Ann was in prison for some time (though I cannot find the exact length of time at this point or much information about her sentence) and upon leaving prison, she was in a predicament. Her actions had gained her a certain level of notoriety within the community and because of this, her family ostracised her, providing her with no means of supporting herself. There is evidence to suggest that her family turned their back on her, and this left Ann without a home. It’s important to remember that she was still a young at this point, and the options for her would have been very limited, especially being unmarried, and deemed a criminal. This would have been a very scary situation for a woman in Ann’s position. Her community were equally as unhelpful, as Ann’s criminality presented her as a paragon for moral and even sexual sin. It seemed that the workhouse was only a breath away, and this would have been an incredibly stressful and uncertain time in Ann’s life.

 However, life was soon to provide her with an opportunity. After searching for a place to live, and a means of supporting herself, Ann was introduced to the travelling community, who often came to the local area to work as farm labourers. Far from the reaction of her peers, they embraced her with open arms and acceptance. I think this may in part be to do with the fact they understood a little of what it was like to be stereotyped and ostracised. Whatever the reason, the travelling community provided her with a home and a way of life which suited her. Though life would have still been difficult, I honestly believe that Ann’s time within her new community would have been a largely happy one, characterised by freedom from many of the obligations placed upon women during the time. She was said to have taken up ‘unchristian ways’ (one can only imagine what such behaviours could be) and was also taught how to read fortunes as well as cards and other occult practices. It seems she was a natural and began gaining a reputation for her accuracy. So, Ann began to travel around the countryside, leaving Westwood Common far behind her.

Through reading fortunes, she was able to sustain herself, and had found her place among these transient peoples. Ann had found acceptance. She left Much Wenlock for some time, and her trail becomes cold. Though at some point there is evidence to suggest that Ann was married to a Thomas Morgan, who was an agricultural labourer. I have found a census record which states the two were married and living in Westwood Common in 1841 and am currently looking for more evidence about Ann’s married life. I do not know if Thomas was a member of the travelling community, and the pair met then, or a later addition to her life. Interestingly, one of the newspaper reports from the time of her death state that the pair were still together and living at Westwood Common until Thomas Morgan’s death in 1856. This means the pair died just one year apart. Furthermore, upon Ann’s burial record it states that as well as her maiden and married name, she also went by the alias Evans. Perhaps this hints at another, prior marriage, or some other entanglement, I am yet to find out. There are a number of complex lives spread all along the Edge, and Ann Morgan’s is but one. What happened during this period of her life? What places did she visit? What brought her joy or sorrow?  What was her marriage like? One can only speculate at this point, though it would have been a difficult existence, faced with its own challenges. Ann’s life as a young woman is seemingly lost to the roads, whispers of her are still left on the many journeys she took.

 However, travelling was not to be a permanent feature of Ann’s life, for she was to make her return to the area that banished her. One Monday morning, we are told that she unexpectedly returned to Much Wenlock and was seen wandering around the market. The locals were shocked by her return, as she was still quite the talking point by running off with the travellers. Perhaps she was used as an example of how not to behave, to encourage good behaviour amongst young girls. When asked why she was back, she informed them that she’d inherited her father’s house up at Five Chimneys and was planning to settle there. So, Ann returned to Westwood Common, and very quickly used her house as a base for her craft. She sold fortunes, charms and curses and gained a reputation across the countryside for the truth in her foresight. Regardless of our modern stance on witchcraft, people believed Ann had the power to influence and change the very course of a person’s fate. They believed her to be powerful, and this made her a very wealthy woman. Indeed, she was always in demand and was consulted by women of all social standing, from servants girls eager to win the heart of a lover to wealthy ladies of great education. This isn’t that hard to believe, as we have evidence of other fortune tellers, cursers and cunning men all operating in Shropshire into the 19^th century. After Ann’s death, a great quantity of jewellery was found in her house, which was given by her customers in payment for her services; alongside a number of letters, which were reported to have contained the signatures of ladies of high importance and position in the locality. Here we see the contradiction which would mark Ann’s life.

Her foresight and skills as a soothsayer were seen as a commodity to many in her community, who would seek her out for fortune telling, palm reading, love potions as well as hiring her as a curser, however she was ostracised, and often met with indignation, even fear. They needed her but didn’t want to associate with her. She was generally avoided and met with hostility. One cannot help but wonder why, if she was to be feared, why did so many people use her services? It seems that in this regard, Ann could symbolise the collective experiences of many women throughout history, women who diverged from expectation and were demonised, or presented as other. These women were necessary in rural communities for many reasons, including herbal medicine and childbirth, but generally met with scorn or condemnation, leading difficult lives.

Folklore suggests that Ann Morgan had a real talent for cursing. She was said to have been the best in the area, with her curses dealing a terrible blow.  She was as in demand for this as she was her other practices, which demonstrates the widespread belief and superstition regarding such practices taking place well into the 19^th century. She quickly gained such a reputation for herself that rumours started to develop, these rumours stated that Nanny Morgan was a witch. She is described in this time like a stock character or a cheap Halloween costume, but if they had been so afraid of her, then why was she sought out for fortunes, the settling of petty disputes, enacting vengeance and for the seduction of potential suitors?

Whether Ann Morgan considered herself a witch is up for debate, though perhaps not even relevant here. Though the community certainly painted her as one. One contemporary of Ann, Bessie Roberts, had described how she’d with caused great terror in the district, just like the Shropshire witches in Stuart times, and that ‘no one dared to call their soul their own’ when they were in her presence. A further person remarked that ‘she was a bad owd woman, I’ve eerd things on ‘er that would make yoor flesh creep’ but conveniently this person was reluctant to share ‘I’d be sorry to repeat the things I’ve eerd’. She was even said to have the Evil Eye. Another person claimed that ‘Everyone was frightened of her, and no one dared refuse her nothing, for fear she should do something to them’. Such sensationalism presents Ann as being a powerful, almost inhuman being, capable of great evil, directly linking her to the long tradition of witchcraft in Britain. One must take such depictions with a pinch of salt, as much of this is hearsay amongst the disapproving locals or an example of Shropshire folk’s natural ability for storytelling. I believe the evidence suggests that Ann was a strong woman with her own unique personality, and capable of being self-sufficient, thus leaving quite an impression. She certainly peddled her trade well, and perhaps lived up to some of the stereotypes of such. Perhaps as the rumours spread, she began to embody the witch like a consummate show-woman. She was an intelligent, practical woman, and I like to think that she would have found some of these rumours humorous.  

 Ann was said to be a great animal lover and kept a number of animals right up until her death. Indeed, her house was once described as ‘Swarmed with cats’. Some of these cats had rather comical names, given her new found status as a witch including ‘Hell-Blow’ and Satan’s Smile’ Which again hints at Ann playing up to the commonly held view of her. She was also said to keep dogs as companions and a ‘whole box of toads’ with her most beloved toad (and wickedest, though I’m not sure how one quantifies the moral compass of an amphibian) was called Dew, who was fed exclusively on communion bread (if we are to believe the folklore) and showered with kisses. (It’s nice to know he was well looked after). I think that Ann gained something from these animals which she couldn’t gain from people, true companionship, and she was said to treat them kindly.

However, there is one aspect of Ann Morgan’s personality, which is shocking, and truly demonstrates her status as a witch. This is that the woman was supposed to own a whole library of books! I am obviously being sarcastic here, though my statement goes part of the way in demonstrating the communities reaction to her literary interest. These books were met with suspicion, and Ann’s interest in reading was generally seen as a negative thing. Indeed, these books were described after her death as ‘the wickedest’ and her bookshelf being almost exclusively occult tomes. We do not know for certain what these texts were, and whether they truly were orphic. Perhaps Ann did have some books about the occult, but there was more likely some variety in her reading habits. What this does suggest is that a literate woman was seen as dangerous, and how mixed attitudes to learning were. It is important to remember that even into the late 19^th century, literacy was not a given. So many of my ancestors signed their marriage records with a cross. Thus, Ann’s ability to read and own books marks her as different to her peers, a further example of her “otherness”.

So far, we have a picture of Ann as a woman who has strove forward, cut her own path, and thrived despite adversity.  She did not let her mistakes define her, which shows her as creative and innovative. She had been a servant girl, a criminal, traveller, and fortune teller and business woman. She was capable and astute, and made of even more intricacies than we know. She found a way to provide for herself, her own way, and had been very successful at it. This woman was not the caricature of a witch, the evil old woman in the gingerbread house, she was human. Her mistakes were as important as her successes, they all played their part in developing her character. She could be warm to animals but cold to people, dishonest but dutiful and she wholeheartedly deserved more than what she was to be given. She deserved more than her fate. It’s frustrating to read more modern accounts that paint her as a nasty or unlikable woman, without any real evidence of such. The newspapers at the time depict her as ‘of very bad character’ which may be true, or more likely is the product of overzealous moralising on the part of the writer.  I am not saying she was perfect, who truly is, but the stereotyping regarding her personhood oversimplifies the story. One cannot help but commend her strength in a society set up to harm women like her. I wish we were able to discern more about her character and early life. However, I want to move forward to the last phase of her life now and focus on her tragic death, and its aftermath. Let us turn to 1857, the year of Ann Morgan’s death.

 

 It was the 12^th of September 1857 when Ann, aged 66 was stabbed to death in her home in Westwood Common. She’d been stabbed in the face, neck, wrist, and hand as well as receiving other wounds. The stab wounds to her neck had been brutal and had cut her carotid arteries. Amongst other things, these arteries are fundamental In delivering blood to the brain. One can imagine the extent of the bleeding then, and how awful the scene of the crime must have been. She would have suffered greatly in her last moments, which to me is incredibly hard to think about. I think at times her murder is underplayed, or wrongly seen as a form of ‘just desserts’ for her witchcraft, which completely limits the tragedy associated with this crime. I have recently uncovered one account from a man who said his grandfather knew Ann Morgan in his youth, as he grew up nearby. This account was written in the late 1940s, and it shares some anecdotes about her including one concerning the morning of her death. According to this account, on the morning of her death, Ann predicted that there would be a murder that day and told some of her neighbours of that feeling. Sadly, she didn’t foresee that it would be her own. It is said that her dog was the only soul who mourned her, the animal was found by her side, howling at his loss, I find this incredibly poignant.

Ann Morgan’s murderer was the 35-year-old William Davies, who was given some very colourful descriptions in the newspaper accounts. This includes him being a ‘silly looking, short, thick set man’ as well as him being inoffensive and " a weak and silly fellow”. Davies had moved in with Ann around 12 months before her murder. He was in between jobs at the time, and Ann seemed to be the breadwinner of the household, as she earned a comfortable amount of money through fortune telling and taking in odd jobs. Their companionship raised a number of eyebrows within the community, with many frowning upon their seemingly romantic relationship, especially due to the substantial age gap. People preferred to believe that William was after Ann’s considerable inheritance (Ann was a very wealthy woman through peddling her trade, and one source suggests that William believed he was set to inherit £600-700 about £70,000 to £80,000 in today’s economy, at the event of her death) than in any way romantically involved with the woman. The evidence is not conclusive, and certainly he could have been her lodger, especially if her husband had only died 1 year prior to the events. However, if we look at how the trial was reported in the papers, it suggests the two were in some form of partnership, with Ann seducing the hapless Davies.

However, soon another narrative began to unfold, which collaborated the accusations of witchcraft. Simple minded William had been bewitched by Ann, and thus, he murdered the woman to escape a magical thraldom, to break the curse. As we shall see shortly, this narrative was echoed by his lawyer, and other prominent minds of the time including the Mayor of Much Wenlock Richard Nicholas. This is also the narrative, which is most prominently shared, that Ann’s murder was somehow a positive thing, that this wicked even woman needed to be ended. I find this an awful injustice and completely dehumanising to all those involved. Regardless of how ‘silly’ William Davies was, he still had the capacity to commit murder, and this must not be forgotten. The idea that William Davies murdered Ann Morgan to escape a witch’s curse shows how much power the narrative of witchcraft still held within rural communities, in a supposedly civilised time of industry, railway and Empire. People still believed that a witch could control and coheres people into doing their bidding. There are other examples during the Victorian period of people enacting harm upon a woman to try and break a witch’s charm, due to the once popular belief that the only way one could escape a witch’s power was to draw her blood. It is galling to imagine that this belief may have been used to dismiss a multitude of crimes and acts of violence against women over the centuries.

There are conflicting accounts of how Ann’s murder happened. One narrative suggests that she’d sent Davies out to get some meat for their tea, and he’d spent the day drinking her money away in the pub. Which certainly could hold a grain of truth. Another suggests that it had something to do with a watch. However, it is known that after a great argument, which flowed into the streets at one point, Davies attacked Ann, inflicting the multiple fatal wounds. He then was witnessed leaving home covered in blood. Interestingly the witness was a relative of Ann’s, a young boy who lived nearby on the common with his mother, both of which are mentioned in the subsequent trial.

The boy was the son of Ann’s nephew, a ten-year-old called John Rowlands. After hearing the commotion caused by the argument, he went outside and saw Davies leaving the scene of the crime, covered in blood. He quickly told his mother that ‘Billy (meaning Davies) had murdered his aunt’ and was worried about her. He was initially ignored but as he began to get more distressed his mother, alongside a couple of neighbours entered the house, to find Ann’s body. Traditional narratives suggested that no one mourned Ann Morgan, but this cannot be true given her family members living in close proximity, and her nephew discovering her murder, which must have been very difficult for a young boy.  An opened and bloody pocketknife, purchased by Davies just days before, was found carefully placed on the dressing table, covered in blood. This was presumed to be the murder weapon, which was confirmed by Davies in his subsequent interview. Amidst the shock and panic, information of the crime was quickly sent to the police. The first on the scene was police constable Roberts, from Much Wenlock and Police Constable Alder, who, after seeing the bloodstained kitchen began to pursue the perpetrator. As well as the police, the local physician was called, which was none other than William Penny Brookes. William Penny Brookes is a fascinating character, who was born, lived, worked, and died in Much Wenlock. Amongst other achievements he was a surgeon, magistrate, botanist, and educational reformer who is perhaps known for founding the ‘Wenlock Olympian Games’, the precursor to our modern Olympics. He believed that physical education ensured personal betterment and is worthy of exploration in his own right. It’s interesting to know that such a man of significance is linked to such an underrepresented crime, and going forward, perhaps it will be important to see Ann Morgan as just of a part of William Penny Brookes’ story, as he is a part of hers. I cannot help but wonder what went through his mind as he entered the home and witnessed the bloodbath. He was an established surgeon, but even he must have been a little shocked at the aftermath left by this crime. He gave evidence at the trial of William Davies, and stated that he’d found the woman dead, with the severe wounds we’ve previously described. He was also present at her autopsy, performed by a Mr. James, and Brookes, which confirmed Ann’s death had been caused by her wounds.

The police quickly tracked down and arrested Davies. He was said to be shook up, and asked the policemen if Ann was truly dead, and repeated that he ‘loved that old woman’ and he asked a number of times if the crime had ‘really be that bad?’  Sadly, we would soon see that Ann Morgan’s remains were treated with little regard, despite her being a victim of murder.

Davies was tried for Ann’s murder, and the witchcraft narrative was used in both court and the community. The Huddersfield Advertiser reported that Morgan ‘Assumed to exercise supernatural powers… incantations appearing to be the very words of fate’ furthering the narrative that Davies had been coerced and controlled by witchcraft. Davies collaborated this by suggesting some of Ann’s books were in fact tomes of witchcraft and the occult and used as an instrument of fear. The community believed so, a number of people spoke out during the time, suggesting that William Davies had been controlled by witchcraft and that he had attacked her to break this supernatural power she held over him. The general consensus seemed that William Davies had done the community a favour by ridding the world of the witch. During the trial Ann was described negatively, and it was emphasised she was of poor character, ‘much addicted to abusive language and of passionate temper’.  This may very well have been the case, but it seems a poor excuse for a murder.

I am more inclined to believe that the power dynamic in this relationship was abusive, rather than magical. Davies’s lawyer described Ann as a woman of ‘very strong body and abusive tongue’ so perhaps her bullying behaviour in an ill-suited relationship had caused William Davies to snap and commit such a crime. Perhaps, she was tired of providing for her lodger, and he was taking advantage, or perhaps they were equally as abusive to each other, with Ann attempting to control the passions and behaviours of her much younger companion. It unfortunately, may have been a drunken argument that went too far, as others have suggested. We will never truly know, but I think its testament to the belief in witchcraft, that people would rather believe she’d bewitched him, than this was an arrangement or a relationship that went sour.

Ultimately, Davies was convicted of murder and condemned to death. This sentence was not long changed though, as he was soon granted a respite and sentenced to penal servitude for life. He was transported to Australia for his crimes, and as of yet I am unable to find much more information, though I intend to keep looking.  Folklore suggests that the ship carrying Davies to Australia sank during a violent storm, and Ann got her revenge, with William Davies drowning, though perhaps this narrative comes from some of the more creative of Much Wenlock’s inhabitants. Similar stories can be found through the history of witchcraft, and there are a number of folkloric examples. One of which is found in the story of Ann of Denmark, James VI of Scotland’s wife, who was prevented from travelling to Scotland for her marriage in the winter of 1589 by violent storms, which were said to have been caused by witches operating in both Denmark and Scotland. James would go on be responsible for contributing to the witch craze in the 16^th and 17^th centuries. Thus, Ann’s revenge seems to have its origins in well-trodden ground, within the lore of the witch trials.

As for Nanny Morgan, we are told that her corpse was as feared in death as it had been in life. No one would carry out her last offices, and she was buried as she was found, without pomp or ceremony, still in her bloodstained clothes and missing a shoe, which is awful treatment for a victim of such a crime, or indeed anyone. Recently, I have located her burial records, which was such an amazing feeling. They provide us with so much information, and offer us definitive answers to a longstanding question; where was Ann Morgan buried?

Traditionally, the folklore of Wenlock Edge states that she was buried In Bourton Cemetery in an unmarked grave, which I have to say has always a plausible option given it being so local to her and her family. Whilst other accounts suggest she was buried outside of consecrated grounds, somewhere along the edge. I can now confirm that Ann Morgan was buried on 17^th September 1857 in Bourton cemetery, sometimes there is truth in the old tales. This is a massive discovery, as it gives us a tangible site of burial, and though there is no mention of a headstone, we have a conclusive end to her story. It seems very fitting for her to be buried at Bourton for many reasons, especially as its believed to have been a pagan site of veneration pre-Christianity. When I visited the cemetery, (before I knew she was truly there) it was a wonderful experience. As soon as we entered the grounds, the winds picked up, and an unexpected gale danced through the trees and our hair. Perhaps this was Ann’s way of letting us know she was there, and that I had to continue looking for her. The burial record, states that the names associated with her were ‘Morgan, Williams, and Evans’ which suggests there is even more to her story than previously thought. It also proves that her birth was some time in 1791 as I have previously mentioned. The most striking feature of this document is that the person who filled it in decided to write the cause of her death. It’s the only one listed, with It jumping from the page, across the centuries. - Murdered.  

I will never forget the moment I read this, the impact on me was profound and must admit it reduced me to tears. This poor woman was murdered.  

 The final role in Ann’s life was that of a victim, murdered by someone who should have cared about her. She was far from perfect, atypical to her time, but she didn’t deserve her fate. We must not forget this; we must not forget her life was robbed from her.  Whatever problems Ann and William had, were exasperated by the conditions they inhabited. They reflect the society of the time and the many difficult lives scattered across rural Victorian England. Adversity, poverty, and alcohol all played their part in Ann’s death. This event should have been seen as a tragedy, and within some groups it probably was, but the prevailing narrative should not have been unwavering support to the assailant. The community should have condemned such a crime, and implored it would never happen again, but instead of this, after her burial, attention was turned to keeping her spirit from returning. A dead witch was just as much of a threat as an alive one it seemed, and even the Mayor William Nicholas and corporation of the borough feared her return, or that her belongings would fall into the wrong hands.

Thus, Ann Morgan’s books, alongside any charms or belongings were taken down to a pub known as the Falcon’s Yard inn, and publicly burned in the centre of town. Folklore suggests that the Mayor even had her house burned down, destroying any trace of the women though this is not proven, and it seems very unlikely given that the five chimneys were only knocked down in the 1960s. However, there is something so chilling about this to me, something I cannot quite put my finger on. The burning of her things feels almost ritualistic, and wholly wrong.  Perhaps it’s the fact that the Mayor had ordered this to happen, or that by burning her things, they were destroying everything that she meant, they were wiping out any trace of her, they were literally denying this woman her existence and legacy.  The community wanted her to be forgotten.

How many women have suffered the same fate? Perhaps this even symbolises a community that is ashamed of themselves, that they hoped by glossing over the crime, forgetting her, they wouldn’t have to face how they contributed to her demise.  This whole story seems surreal, though it is very much rooted in history.  It’s very easy to forget that we are discussing a real, tangible person and that though she may have been flawed, she was not some supernatural entity needing to be slain. She was a woman, with hopes and dreams. She would have laughed and loved and hated with equal measure. She was a victim.

Ann’s story is truly shocking on so many levels, as it demonstrates the very real dangers one faced when stereotyped as a witch, but also how women navigated a society which was set up to harm them. She represents working class womanhood, and all the difficulties life threw upon such women. She is also representative of any woman who divulged from accepted behaviour, and how they were at risk of ostracization, contempt and violence. One only has to look at the witch trials to see the myriad of ways in which men enacted cruelty against women. Ann represents the fate of many women who were persecuted under the guise of witchcraft, but also the ill treatment women faced at the hands of men who purported to love them.  She was a victim of domestic abuse, taken too soon at the hand of a lover. Her fate is sadly still a common one. I certainly believe she deserved better, and they deserved better. She was denied of her legacy, and through her story we can begin to understand Shropshire’s relationship with witchcraft. There was a persistent belief in its potency and power, but a fear strong enough to drive a community to attempt to wipe Ann Morgan out of existence. Though the folkloric story attached to her is important, she shouldn’t be reduced to such a narrative. Ann Morgan was a woman made of multiplicities, both good and bad and everything in between and she should be remembered as such. Her death was a crime, and I think even today this is forgotten. Her death was a crime, and we should not be satisfied with narratives that pertain to her being a wicked witch or evil spirit. She was a woman who faced prejudice and stereotyping throughout her life, and even 166 years after her death, she is still being stereotyped. Her community should have known better, and I think we too should know better. We should not be as clumsy when dealing with her, or indeed other women like her. We need to be realistic and show empathy.

With this in mind, I implore you to remember Ann Morgan, and this complex aspect of Shropshire’s history. Ann’s legacy deserves to be turned into a war-cry, loud enough for everyone to hear. She was a woman, and she endured, despite everything life threw at her. I hope that by sharing her story I can begin to turn the tide against the narrative given by those who sort to vilify and erase her from memory. Ann Morgan will not be forgotten, nor will she be consigned to memory as some villainous witch. She was a woman, who was murdered, a victim, as long as her story is remembered will stand for all the other forgotten women who sadly shared her fate.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope that I have done her story justice. 

 

 

                                                      An Image taken on my Visit to Bourton Church.

A Copy of the Burial record for Ann Morgan