About the year 1672 a prebend of Worcester (Joseph Glanville) seriously wrote a book, entitled, "Some considerations touching the being of Witches and Witchcraft," which engaged him in a controversy that lasted as long as his life. The statute 9th George II, chap. 5 (1736), at length repealed the disgraceful Witch Act, and stopped all legal prosecutions against persons charged with conjuration, sorcery, &c.; yet what has once taken so firm a hold of the popular mind is not to be so easily eradicated; and Dr. Nash, who wrote his "Worcestershire" towards the close of the last century, asserts that not many years previously a poor woman, who happened to be very ugly, was almost drowned in the neighbourhood of Worcester, upon a supposition of witchcraft; and had not Mr. Lygon, a gentleman of singular humanity and influence, interfered in her behalf, she would certainly have been drowned, upon a presumption that a witch could not sink. Later still, Mr. Allies informs us, that when the late Mr. Spooner kept a pack of hounds, whenever they passed through a certain field in Leigh Sinton, the hounds would invariably run after something which nobody could see, until they came to the cottage of an old woman named Cofield, when they would turn back again, the old witch having then got safely into her own "sanctum." The exploits of Mrs. Swan, of Kidderminster, who pretended to discover stolen property for everybody else except what she herself had lost, and who died in an awfully tempestuous night in November, 1850, when her cats so mysteriously disappeared, cannot yet be forgotten; nor the recent existence of "the wise man of Dudley," and many others of the same class, though not quite so celebrated, who are now living. Some of the Mathon people still believe that witchcraft makes their pigs waste away; and, when convinced of the fact, they kill the animal, and burn a part of the flesh, to prevent any ill effects to those who eat the remainder. Mr. Lees informs us of a pear tree in Wyre Forest, the fruit of which is even now hung up in the houses of the peasantry as a protection against witchcraft. The witch elm (_Ulmus montana_) was the one commonly employed for the purpose, as most easily attainable. That was _good_; the mountain ash or witten tree was _better_; and the sorb tree or true service (_Pyrus domestica_) was the _strongest_ of all. Nine withes of witch hazel, banded together, is used as a rustic appliance to guard against witching influence. There is a place called "Witchery Hole," in Little Shelsley, concerning which, whenever a violent wind blows from the north, the people say, "The wind comes from Witchery Hole," insinuating that certain "broomstick hags" had something to do with raising the wind. For a baker to cross the flour before he commences baking is regarded as a security against the witch entering the bread. The horse-shoe is still seen over doors, in many places, and fastened to bedsteads to keep witches away.