her own expressions) the very colour which her face had when she
died. She saw her walking under the fruit-trees, and over the beds
where the seeds had been sown, bowing her body downward, as if
she had been seeking somewhat off the ground, saying to herself,
“A stane, a stane;” for so she pronounced the words; for she had
gathered a considerable number of small stones in her lap, which
the woman saw her throw down at a bush root, near to the foot of
the yard. Some may apprehend that these were the stones which she
frequently cast in the night-time. This woman seeing her, says,
with very great confidence, “Wow! what’s thou doing here, Isabel
Heriot? I charge thee, by the law thou lives on, to tell me.” See
the like expression, page 16. She replies, or rather the foul fiend
in her likeness, “I am even come again, because I wronged my master
while I was his servant; for it was I that stealed his shekel.”
This was a Jewish shekel of gold, (which, with some other things,
had been stolen from him several years before,) “which I hid under
the hearth stone in the kitchen, and then when I flitted, took it
to the Canongate, and did offer to sell it to a French woman, who
lodged where I served. She asked where I got it? I told her I found
it between Leith and Edinburgh. One night,” says she, “I was riding
home late from the town, and near the head of Fauside-brae, the horse
stumbled, and I said, The devil raise thee; where upon the foul thief
appeared presently to him, and threatened me if I would not grant to
destroy my master the minister, he would throw me into a deep hole
there, which I suppose is still yet remaining: or if I could not get
power over my master, I should strive to destroy the schoolmaster.”
It was very remarkable, that one of the minister’s servant women,
had given to the schoolmaster’s servant woman some linens to make
clean, among which there was a cross-cloth of strong linen, which
could never be found, though diligent search was made for it, till
one morning the master awakening, found it bound about his night-cap;
which bred admiration both to himself and his wife; no more skaith
was the devil or the witches able to do him. What way this was done,
or for what end, it cannot be well known; but it is probable, that
they designed to strangle and destroy him in the night-time, which is
their usual time of working and doing mischief. This happened about
the time, I suppose, that the devil had charged Isabel Heriot to
destroy this honest man; yet within two days, a young child of his,
of a year old, fell sick, which was quickly pulled away by death,
none knowing the cause or nature of the disease.—But I proceed. She
confessed likewise, how the devil met with her a second time, at
Elphinston-mill, within a quarter of a mile of Ormiston, and told
what the devil did to her.—And says she, “I was coming one night
from Haddington-market with horse-corn, and met with the devil at
Knockhills, who bid me destroy Thomas Anderson, who was riding with
me; and because I refused; he threw the horse-corn off the horse.”
This Thomas Anderson was a christian man. It is well remembered
yet, that she went the next morning timeously, and brought home her
oats, which had lain there all night. “And moreover,” says she, “I
cheated my master when I went to the market to buy oats; for I made
him believe I gave more money for the boll than I did. And do not
you remember, Isabel Murray, that one night, you coming out of the
minister’s house, got a sore knock on the back with a stone? It was
I, but it was not for your own sake, but for your goodman’s sake,
William Craig, who threw me one day into the Jawhole, and abused me.”
She told this woman likewise, that she would fain have spoken with
her master. After this conference, the woman began to be afraid,
and came running home in haste.—During all this time, there was no
person in the family that met with any hurt or skaith, or saw any
thing, such, was the Lord’s kindness to them all. One Isabel Elliot
a witch, confessed to the minister, that many nights his house and
yard would have been beset with witches. The same woman asked the
devil one time, Why they could not get amends of him? He told her, he
was locked up.—This woman, Isabel Heriot, was never reputed a witch,
nor delated by any for witchcraft; some jeeringly would have called
her so. She was indeed ignorant of religion, notwithstanding of the
many excellent opportunities she had for gaining knowledge. Next her
riding and travelling from far places in the country, in the night as
well as in the day time, and coming home late without fear, and her
stunkard ill nature bred suspicion. If she had confessed a compact
with the devil, before her death, it might have been a good ground;
but this trouble happening to the family immediately after her death,
and her apparition being seen, gave all occasion to say she was a
witch. But these things do not infallible conclude. But what could
her apparition be? It behoved to be either her real body, informed
and acted by the devil, (for her soul could not be brought back)
or only the devil taking upon him her shape and form, acting and
imitating her to the life; which is more probable.
I have adventured to publish this without his knowledge, presuming so
much upon his goodness, love of truth, and useful instruction to the
world, though I should displease his own humour, whilst haply I may,
upon this mature consideration, gratify some more noble principle in
him. For I know nothing in the thing that can turn to his dishonour;
for the best of men and families have suffered from the devil in
extraordinary ways, and it has been their glory, that by their faith
and courage, and confidence in the arm of God, they have overcome
him. If I have erred in some circumstances, or in any other thing,
I am to be excused, since I was not an eye-witness. And what I have
written anent the apparition, was most part from the woman’s own
mouth.
XXII.—_Anent a Magician at Antwerp._
Mr. Tindal, the first translator of the Bible into English after
the Reformation, being at Antwerp, whilst the persecution was hot
in England against the truth, he was told by some English merchant
there, of a notable magician in that place, whose use was at feasts,
or when they used to meet at supper, to bring to the table whatever
wines or delicious fruit the company would desire, and set presently
before them, with other amazing proofs of the power of the devil.
Mr. Tindal perceiving what a snare this might be to some, desired
that when they met together with him, he might be present without
being known what he was. After they were met and at table, this
wretched magician, after this manner, began to try his black art,
but it would not do with him; for whilst he had wearied himself in
observing his spells, charms, and incantations, and what the farthest
that hellish skill and power could do to satisfy the company, he was
at last enforced to this confession before them all, which he spake
with great wrath and anger, “That there was one in the company that
hindered his work, by reason of whom he could get nothing done at
that time.”—I may add to this a strange providence of God.—Mr. John
Craig, that was a minister to King James here in Scotland, being,
when he was a young man, apprehended at Rome, for venting heresy,
as they called it, was shut up in prison. In the mean time Paul the
IV. dies. The banditti that night broke up all the prison doors,
and set at liberty all the prisoners. Mr. John Craig escapes with
an intention to go to Bononia. But fearing hurt there, he set his
mind toward Milan. When he had travelled some days, declining the
highways out of fear, he came into a forest, a wild and desert place,
and being sore wearied, lay down among some bushes, at the side of
a little river, to refresh himself. He lay there pensive and full
of thought; for neither knew he in what place he was, nor had he
means to carry him out of the way. In the mean time there came a dog
fawning upon him, with a purse in his teeth with money, and lays it
down before him; he, strucken with fear, rises up; but construing the
same to proceed from God’s favourable providence, he accepted of it,
and held on his way till he came to Vienna in Austria.
XXIII.—_Anent a great Doctor of Divinity that rose out of the Bier,
and spake to all that were present._
It is written in the life of one Bruno, that a doctor of great note
for learning and godliness, being dead, was brought to the church to
be buried; and while they were in their popish devotions, and came
to these words, _Responde de mihi_, the corps arose in the bier,
and with an extremely terrible voice cried out, _Justo Die judicio
accusatus sum_, “I am accused at the just judgement of God.” At which
voice the people ran all out affrighted. On the morrow, when they
came again to perform the obsequies, to the like words as before,
the corpse arose again, and cried with a hideous voice, _Justo Die
condemnatus sum_. “I am judged at the righteous judgement of God.”
Whereupon the people ran away amazed. The third day almost all the
city came together; and when they came to the same words as before,
the corps rose again, and cried with a more doleful noise than
before, _Justo Dei judicio condemnatus sum_. “I am condemned at the
righteous judgment of God.” The consideration whereof, that a man
reputed so upright, should yet by his own confession, be damned,
caused Bruno and the rest of his companions to enter into the strict
order of Carthusians. The author and relator makes this use of it:
“If the voice of the dead man could affright them unto superstition,
should not the warning of God affright unto true doctrine?”
XXIV.—_Some drunkards destroyed by the devil._
This hath been published in a sermon by a godly minister; but I must
insert it here in its own proper place. On the 8th of February,
saith my author, in the year 1578, a company of drunkards, whose
names are recorded as followeth, Adam Gibbons, George Keepel, John
Keysel, Peter Horsdroff, John Warner, Simon Heamkers, Jacob Hermons,
and Hermon Frow. These eight drunkards, in contempt of the blessed
sabbath, agreed to go to the tavern on the Lord’s day to be merry;
and coming to the house of Anthony Hodge, an honest godly man, they
called for burnt wine, sack, claret, and what not. The good man
refusing to give them any, advised them to go to the church to hear
the word of God; but they all, save Adam Gibbons, refused, saying
they loathed that exercise. Whereupon the host departed; who being
gone to church, they began to curse and ban, wishing he might break
his neck ere he returned; and wishing the devil might break their own
necks, if they went from hence till they had some wine.
Whereupon the devil, in the likeness of a youngman, appeared unto
them, bringing in his hand a flagon of wine, and so drank unto
them, saying, “Good fellows be merry, you shall have wine enough;
you seem to be lusty lads, and I hope you will pay me well; who
answering said, “They would either pay him or engage their neck for
it. Yea, rather than fail, their bodies and souls.” Thus these men
continued drinking and swilling so long, till they could hardly see
one another. At last the devil, their host, told them, that now they
must pay for all, at which their hearts waxed cold. But the devil bid
them be of good cheer, for now they must drink fire and brimstone
with him in the pit of hell for ever. At which the devil brake their
necks asunder and destroyed them. Thus ended these drunkards their
days; and this, by the way, may serve for a document to all drunkards
for ever; and to persuade folk that the Lord has the devil for his
executioner, when he pleases to execute his vengeance upon great
sinners.
XXV.—_Touching one William Barton, a Warlock._
About thirty years ago, more or less, there was one William Barton
apprehended for witchcraft. His confession was, first, that if he had
twenty sons, he would advise them to shun the lust of uncleanness.
“For,” said he, “I never saw a beautiful woman, maid, or wife, but
I coveted them, which was the only cause that brought me to be the
devil’s vassal. One day, going from my own house in Kirkliston to
the Queen’s Ferry, I overtook, in Denny Muir, a young gentlewoman,
as to appearance, beautiful and comely. I drew near to her, but she
shunned my company; and when I insisted, she became angry and very
nice. Said I, since we are both going one way, be pleased to accept
of a convoy: at last, after much entreaty, she grew better natured;
and at length we came to that familiarity, that she suffered me to
embrace her, and to do that which Christian ears ought not to hear
of. At this time I parted with her very joyfully. The next night
she appeared to him in that very same place; and after that which
should not be named, he became sensible that it was the devil. Here
he renounced his baptism, and gave up himself to her service, and she
called him her beloved, and gave him the new name of John Baptist,
and received the mark. She likewise bestowed £15 Scots in name of
tocher, and so parted.—When he had gone a little way off, she calls
him back, and gave him a mark piece in good and sufficient money,
which she had him spend at the Ferry, and desired him to keep entire
and whole the £15, which he declared was real and true money. He
confessed, that they never met together but they played their pranks.
After this confession, he begged liberty to sleep a little, which the
judges granted to him. When he had sleeped a short time, he awakened
with a great laughter. The judges enquired the reason; he replied,
being seriously urged, That the devil had come to him, and rebuked
him with anger, and threatened him most furiously that he confessed,
and bade him deny all, for he should be his warrant.——After this he
turned obdured, and would never, to his dying hour, acknowledge any
thing, for the devil had persuaded him, even from his first engaging,
That no man should take his life; which promise he firmly believed to
the very last. When they told him in the prison-house, that the fire
was built, and the stake was up, and the executioner coming to bring
him forth, he answered, he cared not for that; for, said he, “I shall
not die this day.” But the executioner got presently orders to lead
him forth; and he stepping in at the prison door, was in an instant
shot to death, as they say, and never stirred again. In this strait,
they appointed the executioner’s wife to strangle him, which she did
willingly, a reward being promised to her. When the warlock heard
this, that a woman was to put him to death, “O,” says he, “how hath
the devil deceived me? Let none ever trust his promises.” All this
was done at Kirkliston, before famous witnesses. The executioner’s
name was Andrew Martin, and his wife’s name Margaret Hamilton, who,
when her husband died, clapped her hands, and cried often, “Dool,
for his parting, my dear Andrew Martin.” This Barton’s wife had been
likewise taken with him, who declared, that she never knew him to
be a warlock before; and he likewise declared, that he never knew
her to have been a witch before. She confessed that malice against
one of her neighbours moved her to engage in the devil’s service.
She renounced her baptism, and did prostrate her body to the foul
spirit, and received his mark, and got a new name from him; and was
called Margaratus. She was asked, if ever she had any pleasure in
his company? “Never much,” says she, “but one night going a dancing
upon Pentlandhills, he went before us in the likeness of a rough
tanny dog, playing on a pair of pipes; the spring he played, says
she, was, “The silly bit kitchen gar cast it a pickle, and it will
grow meikle. And coming down the hill, when we had done, which was
the best sport, he carried the candle in his bottom, under his tail,
which played ay wig wag, wig-wag.” She was burned with her husband.
There is one thing remarkable in the story, that he bestowed so much
money upon the warlock, which proved good and sufficient coin. ’Tis
seldom he is so liberal. But surely he would be more liberal, if the
Lord would suffer him to steal, or make use of treasures lying hid
in the ground, or in the bottom of the sea. If this liberty were
granted, he might deceive the most part of men and women in the world
with his gifts. The next relation shall be in confirmation of this.
XXVI.—_A wonderful and strange accident which fell out at Lyons in
France._
A Lieutenant of a guard, called Jaquette, having supped one night
in a rich merchant’s house, was passing home, and by the way, said,
“I wonder what I have eaten and drunken at the merchant’s house:
for I find myself so hot, that if I met with the devil’s dame this
night, I could not forbear using of her.” Hereupon, a little after,
he overtook a gentlewoman masked, whom he would needs usher home to
her lodging, but discharged all his company except two. She brought
him, to his apprehension, to a low house hard by the city wall, where
there were only two rooms. After he had enjoyed her, he desired her,
that, according to the custom of French Gentlemen, his two comrades
might partake of the same pleasure; so she admitted them one after
another. And when all was done, as they sat together, she told them,
“If they knew well who she was, none of them would have ventured upon
her.” Thereupon she whistled three times, and all evanished. The next
morning the two comrades that had gone with Lieutenant Jaquette were
found dead under the city wall, among the ordure and excrements, and
Jaquette himself a little way off half dead; who was taken up, and
coming to himself again, confessed all this, and presently died. This
may verify the preceding relation.
XXVII.—_A Marvellous Prank played by the Devil at Hamelen, a Town in
Germany._
This city was annoyed with rats and mice. It happened that a
pied-coated piper came thither, who covenanted with the chief
burghers for such a reward, if he could free them from the said
vermin; nor would he demand it for a twelvemonth and a day after.
The agreement being made, he began to play on the pipes, and all the
rats and mice followed him to a great loch hard by, where they all
perished; so that the town was infested no more. At the end of the
year, the piper returned for his reward, the burghers put him off
with slighting and neglect, offering him some small matter, which he
refused. And staying some days in town, on a Sunday morning, at high
mass, when most people were at church, he fell to play his pipes, and
their children up and down followed him out of the town, to a great
hill not far off, which rent in two, and let him and the children in,
and so closed up again. This happened about two hundred and fifty
years since. And in that town, they date their bills and bonds, and
other instruments in law to this day, from the year of the going
out of their children; besides, there is a great pillar of stone,
erected at the foot of the said hill, where this story is engraven.
XXVIII.—_A relation of the strange Witchcraft discovered in the
village of Monra in Swedeland._
The news of this witchcraft coming to the king’s ear, his Majesty was
pleased to appoint commissioners, some of the clergy, and some of the
laity, to make a journey to the town aforesaid, and to examine the
whole business; and accordingly the examination was ordered to be on
the 13th of August; and the commissioners met on the 12th instant, in
the said village, at the parson’s house, to whom both the minister
and several people of fashion, complained with tears in their eyes,
of the miserable condition they were in; and therefore begged of
them to think of some way, whereby they might be delivered from that
calamity. They gave the commissioners very strange instances of the
devil’s tyranny among them; how by the help of witches, he had drawn
some hundreds of children to him, and made them subject to his power;
how he hath been seen to go in a visible shape through the country,
and appeared daily to the people; how he had wrought upon the poorer
sort, by presenting them with meat and drink, and this way allured
them to himself, with other circumstances to be mentioned hereafter.
The inhabitants of the village added, with great lamentations, That
though their children had told all, and themselves had sought God
very earnestly by prayer, yet they were carried away by him. And
therefore begged of the lords commissioners to root out this hellish
crew, that they might regain their former rest and quietness; and
the rather because the children, which used to be carried away in
the country or district of Elsdale, since some witches had been
burnt there, remained unmolested.—That day, _i. e._ the 13th of
August, being the last humiliation day instituted by authority for
the removing of this judgment, the commissioners went to church,
where there appeared a considerable assembly both of young and old.
The children could read most of them, and sing psalms, and so could
the women, though not with any great zeal and fervour. There were
preached two sermons that day, in which the miserable case of those
people that suffered themselves to be deluded by the devil, was laid
open; and these sermons were at last concluded with very fervent
prayers.—The public worship being over, all the people of the town
were called together in the parson’s house, near three thousand
of them. Silence being commanded, the king’s commission was read
publicly in the hearing of them all, and they were charged, under
very great penalties, to conceal nothing of what they knew, and to
say nothing but truth; those especially who were guilty, that the
children might be delivered from the clutches of the devil. They all
promised obedience; the guilty feignedly, but the guiltless weeping
and crying bitterly.