casemitter in shi, so leish en shi corne, orn heip twa till one
eurcht mach a mainshore.”
There is in some part of Galloway a charm for curing a disease called
the Ling, in these words, “Catheri, Dumi, Chini, Brini.” Another
there is which some use for effectuating that which others do by
casting three knots, “far si far, fa sar fay u, far four na forty
kay u, mack straik it a pain four hung creig weil mack smeoran bun
bagie.” This language cannot be interpreted.—Besides this, there are
prayers and aves among the Highlanders, wherein they think there lies
great virtue, as in repeating the Lord’s prayer in Latin thus:
“Paidder nuhter kish in sheali sanctishetter noman du, ta renada, ta
langa tu, quidi bonum aicht in dearrich, an dingers, an dangis, a
nipis a nopis, induraramis indaramis, indittimis indatamis, shechli
sheclorum. _Amen._”
Their AVE MARY runs thus:
“Ave Mari crashi plena du na takamis pendicata tus onte willie
yeramis, penedicata rucara shendri Esum Christum. _Amen._”
At night, in the time of Popery, when folks went to bed, they
believed the repetition of the following prayer was effectual to
preserve them from danger, and the house too.
“Who sains the house the night?
They that sains it ilka night:
Saint Bryde and her brate,
Saint Colme and his hat,
Saint Michael and his spear,
Keep this house from the weir;
From running thief;
And burning thief;
And from a’ ill Rea,
That be the gate can gae;
And from an ill wight,
That be the gate can light.
Nine reeds about the house;
Keep it all the night.
What is that, what I see
So red, so bright, beyond the sea?
’Tis he was pierc’d through the hands,
Through the feet, through the throat,
Through the tongue;
Through the liver and the lung.
Well is them that well may
Fast on Good-Friday.”
Another prayer, used by the thieves and robbers on the Borders after
meat, in order to stealing from their neighbours.
“He that ordain’d us to be born,
Send us more meat for the morn,
Part of’t right and part of’t wrang:
God let us never fast owre lang.
God be thanked, and our Lady,
All is done that we have ready.”
A country-man in East Lothian used this grace always before and after
meat.
“Lord be bless’d for all his gifts,
Defy the devil and all his shifts;
God sent me mair silver. _Amen._”
As the devil is originally the author of charms and spells, so is he
the author of several bawdy songs which are sung. A reverend minister
told me, that one who was the devil’s piper, a wizzard, confessed to
him, that at a ball of dancing, the foul spirit taught him a bawdy
song, to sing and play, as it were this night, and ere two days
passed, all the lads and lasses of the town were lilting it through
the street. It were an abomination to rehearse it.
XXXVI.—_Anent one Lizzie Muidy at Haddington._
This woman was a servant to Margaret Kirkwood there, a woman of
good repute once, who before her death, took some trouble of mind,
upon what account I shall not determine. She made some insinuation,
it seems, to some of her friends, that she inclined to put hand on
herself; whereupon she was attended and waited upon; but had her own
liberty to retire herself to private prayer; in which exercise she
was very frequent. Upon a Sabbath forenoon, when all were at church
and she at home, none with her save only a servant-maid, she went
into some high room or other, as she was wont to do, to her devotion,
and there, before the maid could know, she hanged herself. In this
very moment of time, this Elizabeth Muidy, her old servant, being in
church, was observed to number upon her fingers fifty, or fifty-one,
which number being ended, she cries out, with a loud voice, in
presence of all, “Now the turn is done.” She was presently taken away
as a distracted person; and news coming to the church, that such a
woman had hanged herself, her old mistress, she was taken away to
prison; but what her confession was, it is not well known. There are
many other things reported, whereof I cannot give an account. This
tragedy was acted within these few years at Haddington.
XXXVII.—_Anent Major Weir and his Sister._
This man, Thomas Weir, was born at Clydesdale, near to Lanark, who
had been a lieutenant in Ireland long since. What way he came to get
some public command in the city of Edinburgh, in the years 1649 and
50, I know not: but it seems he has always been called Major Weir
since that time. Many things might be narrated of him, which for
brevity’s sake, I cannot meddle with, since I intend only to speak
of his sorceries, and other things relating thereunto. It seems he
had, before he was burnt, some charge over the waiters at the ports
of the city, being, as it were, a check to them. Coming one day, as
his custom was, he found some of them in a cellar, taking a cup of
ale, neglecting their charge. After a gentle reproof, one of them
replied, That some of their number being upon duty, the rest had
retired to drink with their old friend Mr. Burn. At which he started
back, and casting an eye upon him, repeated the word Burn four or
five times: and going home, he never came abroad afterwards, till a
few weeks after he had discovered his impieties. It was observed by
some, that going to Liberton sometimes, he shunned to step over that
water brook, which is ordinarily called Liberton-burn, but went about
to shun it. Some have conjectured that he had advice to beware of a
burn, or some other thing which this equivocal word might signify,
as burn in a fire. If so, he has foreseen his day approaching. A
year before he discovered himself, he took a sore sickness; during
which time he spake to all who visited him like an angel, and came
frequently abroad again.——This man taking some dreadful tortures
of conscience, and the terrors of the Almighty being upon his
spirit, confessed to several neighbours in his own house, and that
most willingly, particular sins which he was guilty of, which bred
amazement to all persons, they coming from a man of so high repute
for religion and piety. He ended with this remarkable expression,
“Before God, (says he) I have not told you the hundred part of what
I can say more, and am guilty of.” These very same abominations he
confessed before the judges likewise. But after this, he would never,
till his dying hour confess any more, which might have been for
the glorifying of God, and the edification of others, but remained
stupid, having no confidence to look any man in the face, or to
open his eyes.—When two of the magistrates came to his house in the
night-time to carry him to prison, they asked, If he had any money to
secure? He answered none. His sister said there was. Whereupon, to
the value of five dollars, in parcels here and there, were found in
several clouts. His sister advised the two magistrates to secure his
staff especially; for she also went to prison. After he was secured
in the tolbooth, the bailies returned, and went into a tavern near
to Weir’s house in the West-bow, a street so called there. The money
was put into a bag, and the clouts thrown into the fire, by the
master of the house and his wife; which, after an unusual manner made
a circling and dancing in the fire. There was another clout found
with some hard thing it, which they threw into the fire likewise; it
being a certain root, which circled and sparkled like gun-powder,
and passing from the tunnel of the chimney, it gave a crack like a
little cannon, to the amazement of all that were present.—The money
aforesaid was taken by one of the bailies to his own house, and laid
by in his closet. After family-prayer was ended, he retired into the
same closet, (where I have been) during which time his wife, who
is yet living, and the rest of the family, were affrighted with a
terrible noise within the study, like the falling of a house, about
three times together. His wife knocking, gave a fearful cry, “My
dear, are you alive?” The bailie came out unafraid, having (as he
said) heard nothing; whether he concealed this upon the account his
wife was with child, or otherwise, it cannot be well known. The money
was presently sent away to another bailie’s house, a great distance
from Weir’s; where, as was reported, there was some disturbance, but
in broken expressions.
During the time of his imprisonment, he was never willing to be
spoken to; and when the ministers of the city offered to pray
for him, he would cry out in fury, “Torment me no more, for I am
tormented already.” One minister (now asleep) asking him, If he
should pray for him? was answered, Not at all. The other replied,
in a kind of holy anger, “Sir, I will pray for you in spite of your
teeth, and the devil your master too,” who did pray, making him at
least to hear him; but the other staring wildly, was senseless as
a brute. Another, who is likewise at rest, demanded, if he thought
there was a God; said the man, I know not. That other replied
smartly, “O man, the argument that moveth me to think there is a God,
is thyself; for what else moveth thee to inform the world of thy
wicked life?” But Weir answered, Let me alone. When he peremptorily
forbade one of his own parish ministers, (yet alive) to pray, one
demanded, if he would have any of the presbyterian persuasion to
pray, he answered, “Sir, you are all alike to me.” Then said the
minister to him, “I will pray with you.” “Do it not,” said the other,
“upon your peril;” looking up to the beams of the house. But prayer
was offered up so much the more heartily, because the company about
expected some vision. It is observable, that in things common he
was pertinent enough; but when any thing about Almighty God, and
his soul’s condition, came about, he would shrug, and rub his coat
and breast, saying to them, “Torment me not before the time.” When
he was at the stake to be burnt, the city ministers called to a
churchman there looking on, being one of that persuasion whereof
Weir was formerly deemed to be, to speak to him; but no sooner had
he opened his mouth, than he made a sign with his head to be silent.
When the rope was about his neck to prepare him for the fire, he was
bid say, Lord be merciful to me; but he answered, “Let me alone, I
will not; I have lived as a beast, and I must die as a beast.” The
fire being kindled, both he and his staff, a little after, fell into
the flames. Whatever incantation was in his staff, is not for me to
discuss. He could not officiate in any holy duty, without his rod
in his hand, and leaning upon it, which made those who heard him
pray, admire his fluency in prayer. Its falling into the fire with
him, (let others search out the disparity) minds me of this passage.
In Zetland a few years ago, a judge having condemned an old woman
and her daughter, called Helen Stewart, for witchcraft, sent them
to be burned. The main was so stupid, that she was thought to be
possessed. When she had hung some little time on the gibbet, a black
pitchy-like ball foamed out of her mouth; and after the fire was
kindled, it grew to the bigness of a walnut, and then flew up like
squibs into the air, which the judge, yet living, attests. It was
taken to be a visible sign, that the devil was gone out of her. I
shall not make application of this as to Mr. Weir’s staff.——I know
from good hands, that if this man repented of any thing in prison,
it was for causing a poor maid to be scourged, who affirmed, she had
seen him commit bestiality going to Newmills to a solemn meeting.
This poor woman lived about two years after his death, and heard of
his fatal end. His incest with his own sister, was first when she
was a young maid. The place where this abomination was committed,
was cursed; for, contrary to nature, it remained always bare without
grass. A reverend minister told me, (I mention this as from myself,
not from the author of the letter) that Major Weir confessed so much
to him, and told him, that the place lies off the road-way between
Kirkcaldy and Kinghorn, upon a little hill-side; which he had the
curiosity to go and see, and found it so. This was done the matter of
fifty years ago. Many other things he confessed, which Christian ears
should not be defiled with.—Before I come to his sister, take this
notable remark from two persons yet alive, dwelling at the foot of
the West-Bow, at the head whereof dwelt Major Weir. This gentlewoman,
a substantial merchant’s wife, was very desirous to hear him pray,
much being spoken of his utterance; and for that end spoke to some of
her neighbours, that when he came to their house, she might be sent
for. This was done, but he could never be persuaded to open his mouth
before her; no, not to bless a cup of ale; he either remained mute,
or up with his staff and away. It troubled her then; but I suppose
both her husband and she smiles at it now.
Some few days before he discovered himself, this gentlewoman coming
from the Castle-hill, where her husband’s niece was lying-in of a
child, about midnight, perceived, about the Bow-head, three women
in windows, shouting, laughing, and clapping their hands. The
gentlewoman went forward, till, just at Major Weir’s door, there
arose, as from the street, a woman about the length of two ordinary
females, and stepped forward. The gentlewoman, not as yet excessively
feared, bid her maid step on, if, by the lanthorn, they could see
what she was; but haste what they could, this long-legged spectre was
still before them, moving her body with a vehement cachinnation, and
great unmeasurable laughter. At this rate the two strove for place,
till the giantess came to a narrow lane in the Bow, commonly called
the stinking-close, into which she turning, and the gentlewoman
looking after her, perceived the close full of flaming torches,
(she could give them no other name,) and as it had been a great
multitude of people, stentoriously laughing and gaping with tehees
of laughter. This sight, at so dead a time of the night, no people
being in the windows belonging to the close, made her and her servant
haste home, declaring all what they saw to the rest of the family;
but more passionately to her husband. And though sick with fear, yet
she went the next morning with her maid, to view the noted places of
her former night’s walk, and at the close inquired who lived there?
It was answered, Major Weir. The honest couple now rejoiced, that to
Weir’s devotion they never said, Amen. I know there are some, who
strenuously assert the unreasonableness of believing such visions
and apparitions; but you have made them sufficiently evident from
your relation foregoing. These, in all probability, have been a
presage of his approaching death, and of the manner of it, links
and torches signifying an honourable interment, which perhaps had
been promised to him. There was one minister in the city, that could
never be persuaded to speak with him in prison; but no sooner was he
dead, than he went to the tolbooth, and called for his sister, who
had some remorse; of whom I shall now speak. He told her, that her
brother was burnt, and how he died, (though he saw him not executed)
as I heard from himself. She believed nothing of it; but after many
attestations, he asked, where his staff was? for, it seems, she knew
that his strength and life lay therein. He told her, it was burnt
with him. Whereupon, notwithstanding of her age, she nimbly, and in
a furious rage, fell on her knees, uttering words horrible to be
remembered. And in rising up, as she was desired, her raging agony
closed with these words, “O Sir, I know he is with the devils; for
with them he lived.” She entreated that minister to assist her,
and attend her to her death, which, at her violent importunity, he
yielded unto, though it was not his course to wait upon condemned
persons. What she said in private to himself, he says, must die with
him. She avouched, that from her being sixteen years of age, to
her fiftieth, her brother had the incestuous use of her, and then
loathed her for her age. She was pretty old at this time; and he,
when he died, was about seventy. He asked her, If ever she was with
child to him? She declared, with great confidence, he hindered that
by means abominable: which, she beginning to relate, the minister
stopped her. Some bystanders were desirous to hear the rest; but says
he, “Gentlemen, the speculation of this iniquity is in itself to be
punished.”—In often and returned visits, she was interrogated, If she
had any hand in her brother’s devilry? She declared but in a passive
way; and gave this for an instance: A fiery chariot or coach, as she
called it, coming to his door, at broad day, a stranger invied him
and her to go and visit a friend in Dalkeith, a small town about six
miles from Edinburgh. They both entered, and went forward in their
visit; at which time (says she) one came and whispered something
in his ear, which affected him. They both returned after the same
manner that they had gone out. And Weir going after to make some
visits, told them he had strong apprehensions, that that day the
King’s forces were routed at Worcester; which, within a few days,
was confirmed by post. She affirmed, that none saw the coach but
themselves. The devil hath wrought far greater farlies in his time
than this.—She knew much of the enchanted staff; for by it he was
enabled to pray; to commit filthiness, not to be named; yea even to
reconcile neighbours, man and wife, when at variance. She oft hid
it from him; and because without it he could do nothing, he would
threaten and vow to discover her incest; fearing which, she would
deliver it again. Being asked the cause of her much spinning, which
she was famous for, she denied any assistance from the devil, but
found she had an extraordinary faculty therein, far above ordinary
spinsters; yet owned, that when she came home, after her being
abroad, she found there was more yarn on her wheel than she left: and
that her weaver could not make cloth thereof, the yarn breaking, or
falling from the loom.——Once there came a stranger to her, while she
was at her wheel, and proposed a way to her to make her rick; for
they both lived almost upon alms. The way was this, “Stand up and
say, all crosses and cares go out of this house.” She answered, “God
forbid, I say that, but let them be welcome when God sends them.”
After two or three visits more, she asked this stranger, where she
dwelt? She replied, “In the Potterrow,” a street in the suburbs of
that city; but finding neither such a house, nor such a woman, I
judged, said she, it was the devil, one of my brother’s acquaintance;
for I know he had familiarity with the devil.
His poverty minds me of a wizzard accused and execute in Zetland,
before named, for witchcraft, several years ago, called Luggy to a
nick-name; who being a fisher, had a trick, at any time when hungry
at sea, to cast out his line, and would out of Neptune’s lowest
kitchen, bring cleverly up fish well boiled and roasted; and his
comrades, by a natural courage, would make a merry meal thereof, not
questioning who was cook. He had another piece of art, at any time
of the year, or in great storms, to go up to a hill near his own
house, whereupon there was a deep pit, out of which, with his lines,
he drew up codlings or keiling for his provision, which never man
could but himself. This history is true, being yet to be seen in the
criminal books of that country.—She was asked anent her parents? She
was persuaded her mother was a witch; “for the secretest thing that
either I myself, or any of the family could do, when once a mark
appeared on her brow, she could tell it them, though done at a great
distance. Being demanded what sort of a mark it was? She answered,
“I have some such like mark myself, when I please, on my forehead.”
Whereupon she offered to uncover her head for visible satisfaction;
the minister refusing to behold it, and forbidding any discovery,
was earnestly requested by some spectators, to allow the freedom. He
yielded: She put back her head dress, and seeming to frown, there was
seen an exact horse shoe shaped for nails in her wrinkles, terrible
enough, I assure you, to the stoutest beholder. In the morning before
her execution, she told the minister, she resolved to die with all
the shame she could, to expiate, under mercy, her shameful life;
this he understood to be an ingenuous confession of her sins in
opposition to her brother’s despair and desperate silence, to which
he did encourage her. At her parting with him, she gave him hearty
thanks for his pains; and shaking his hands, offering to kiss them;
she repeated the same words which he bade her perform. Ascending up
the ladder, she spoke somewhat confusedly of her sins, of her brother
and his enchanting staff; and with a ghastly countenance, beholding
a multitude of spectators, all wondering, and some weeping, she
spake aloud, “There are many here this day, wondering and greeting
for me, but alas! few mourn for a broken——;” at which words, many
seemed angry: some called to her to mind higher concerns; and I have
heard it said, that the preacher declared, he had much ado to keep
a composed countenance. The executioner falling about his duty, she
prepares to die stark-naked; then, and not before, were her words
relating to shame understood; the hangman struggled with her to keep
on her clothes, and she struggled with him to have them off. At last
he was forced to throw her over open-faced, which afterwards he
covered with a cloth.——So much from the gentleman that gave me this
information; to which I shall add, that this is not published with
a design to reflect upon men of this or that persuasion, far be it.
The devil can counterfeit what religion he pleases, and ordinarily
a good one. True religion can never suffer any prejudice from a
hypocrite’s wearing a cloak of it, more than the good angels can
suffer a stain by Satan’s transforming himself into an angel of
light. The devil hath his lackies and pages with Christ’s livery upon
them. Was not Judas, who was but one of the twelve, a vile hypocrite?
It is a wonder, where there are a thousand professing Christ in a
congregation, that a hundred of them are not as bad. His glistering
cloak of religion dazzled all men’s eyes; this was needful. Foul
faults must have a cloak to cover them. The apostle Jude speaks of
some that go after Sarko’s heteras, which may be understood, not
only of that sin mentioned, Rom., i. 27. but of another sort of
flesh, not to be named. Here was a demonstration, proving evidently
that there is a God, viz. by the terrors of his conscience. It is
evident also, there is a devil that hurries men on into sin. He had
this expression to two ministers that came to see him in prison;
there was no temptation which the devil could propose to him, but
he was capable to accept of it. It is evident also, there is either
an explicit compact between some men and the devil; horrible sins
covered with religion bring utter despair at last. Desperation in
hell in “fieri.” Some men as well as devils are tormented before the
time. Let us not count the less of religion, that it is made a cloak
for covering sin; let us beware that such a man’s fall prove not a
neck-break to us; let us idolize no man for his profession, or that
he is of this or that persuasion, or of such a party: let no man rest
in a bare profession of religion. Men in compact with the devil, may
be assisted both to preach and pray. The devil’s servants are well
rewarded at the last. Profession and practice must go together; a
clinking profession, with an unbridled tongue, is a vain religion.
“Pure religion, and undefiled before God and the Father, is, to
visit the fatherless and the widows in their affliction; and for a
man to keep himself unspotted from the world.”
Major Weir was burnt between Edinburgh and Leith, at a place called
the Gallowlee, on Thursday the 14th of April 1676.
XXXVIII.—_An Apparition seen in a dwelling-house, in Mary King’s
Close, in Edinburgh._