In 1643 there was a fierce onslaught against the poor persecuted servants
of the devil. Thirty women suffered at once in Fife alone; and the more
zealous of the ministers hounded on the people to terrible cruelties.
There was one John Brugh,[36] "a notorious warlock in the parachin of
Fossoquhy, by the space of 36 yearis," who was wirreit at a stake and
burnt; and Janet Barker and Margaret Lauder, "indwellers and servands in
Edinburgh," who came to confession boldly, and showed that they had read
the story of Europa to some purpose, though to a great deal of confusion.
They accused Janet Cranstoun of seducing them, by promising them that if
they gave themselves over to her and the devil, they should be "as trimlie
clad as the best servands in Edinburgh." Coupled with the fact that they
had witch-marks, their confession was accepted as undeniable, and their
fate inevitably sealed.
And there was Marion Cumlaquoy,[37] in Birsay, who bewitched David
Cumlaquoy's corn seed, and made it run out too soon. She had been very
anxious to know when David would sow, and when she was told, she went and
stood "just to his face" all the time he was casting, and that year his
seed failed him, so that he could only sow a third of his land; though he
had as much grain as heretofore, and it had never run out too soon all the
years he had farmed that land. And she went to Robert Carstairs' house by
sunrise one day, bringing milk to his good mother, though not used to show
such attention; and as she left she turned herself three several times
"withershins" about the fire, and that year Robert Carstairs' "bear
(barley) was blew and rottin," and his oats gave no proper meal, but made
all who ate thereof heart-sick, albeit both bear and oats were good and
fresh when he put them in the yard. And if all this was not proof against
Marion Cumlaquoy, what would the Orkney courts hold as proof? As the past,
so the present; and Marion Cumlaquoy must learn in prison and at the stake
the evils that honest folk found in her power of "enchanting" corn and
crops. There were many others in this same year, to catalogue whom would
become at least wearisome and monotonous: they must be passed by
unmentioned, and left to the silence and oblivion which is the privilege
of the unfortunate dead.
But among the victims was one Agnes Finnie,[38] a bitter-tongued,
evil-tempered old hag, who had a curse and a threat for every one who
offended her; who killed young Fairlie with a terrible disorder, because
he called her "Winnie Annie;" and laid so frightful a disease on Beatrix
Nisbet, for some other trifling offence, that she lost the use of her
tongue; who made a "grit jist" (great joist) fall down on the leg of
Euphame Kincaid's daughter, because Euphame called her a witch on being
called by her a drunkard; and appeared to John Cockburn in the night--the
doors and windows being fast closed--terrifying him by her hideous old
apparition in his sleep, because he had disagreed with her daughter; and
who did all other wicked and uncanny things, like a raving, unprincipled,
old hag as she was. She even forespoke Alexander Johnstone's bairne, so
that it was eleven years old before it could walk, and all because she was
not made godmother, or "had not gotten its name;" and she made Margaret
Williamson sick and blind, by saying most outrageously, "The devill blaw
the blinde!" And she was a bad mother and evil exemplar to her daughter,
bringing her up to be as vile as herself, at least in the way of
quarrelling and fighting with her neighbours, and then backing her with an
unfair amount of her own supernatural powers. Thus, one day, Margaret
Robinson, the daughter in question, was using high words with Mawse
Gourlay, spouse of Andrew Wilson, and Mawse, in a rage, called her "ane
witche's get," which was about the worst thing that could be said in those
days between a couple of scolds. "Gif I be ane witche's get," cried
Margaret, in extremest fury, "the devill ryve the saull out of ye befoir I
come again!" After which cruel and devilish imprecation, helped on by
Winnie Annie's horrible art used at Margaret's instigation, Andrew Wilson
became "frenatik" and stark mad: his eyes starting out of his head in the
most terrible and frightful manner as he went about, ever pronouncing
these words as his ordinary and continual speech--the perpetual raving of
his madness--"The devill ryve the saull out o' me!" For all which
crimes--though she was ably defended--though, when her house was searched,
"there was neither picture, toad, nor any such thing found therein, which
ever any witch in the world was used to practize,"--yet the evidence was
held to be too strong, and Winnie Annie Finnie was ordained to be "brunt
to the deid," and her ashes cast out to the winds of heaven.
Janet Brown[39] was another of those who got into hot quarters. She
confessed that she had charmed James Hutton and Janet Scott with these
words:--
"Our Lord forth did raide,
His foal's foot slade;
Our Lord down lighted,
His foal's foot righted;
Saying flesh to flesh, blood to blood, and stane to stane,
In our Lord his name."
She said this was a charm that had been learnt her by a nameless man from
Strathmiglo; but Margaret Fisher,[40] in Weardie, spoke it somewhat
differently. She had for her spell:--
"Our Lord to hunting red,
His sool-soot sled,
Down he lighted,
His sool-soot righted;
Blod to blod,
Shinew to shinew,
To the other sent in God's name,
In the name of the Father, Sone, and Holy Ghost."
Either version was equally efficacious as a cure to the sick and a curse
to the whole; and equally deadly as a crime in those who used it. And
there was Margaret Young, "ane honest young woman of good reputation,
without any scandal or blot," who lay miserably in prison for ten weeks,
without trial or release; but she got off at last on her husband's
becoming her surety. And Jonet Thomeson, who bewitched Andrew Burwick's
corn, so that when carried to the mill it leapt up into his wife's face
like mites, and as it were "nipped" her face until it swelled; and when it
was made into "meat," neither he nor his wife could abide the smell of it;
and when they did manage to eat it, it tasted like pins ("went owre lyke
prinsis"), and could not be quenched for thirst: and the dogs would not
eat of it, and the neighbours would not buy it; so poor Andrew Burwick's
gear was destroyed, and his means most sorely diminished. For all which
deadly sorcery and malice Jonet Thomeson, _alias_ Greibok, was made to
smart severely.
Marion Peebles[41] came to an untimely end, not unreasonably, according to
the witch-haters. She was "a wicked, devilish, fearful, and abominable
curser," and the world could not be too soon rid of her; for had she not
changed herself into the likeness of an unchristian beast, a mere
shapeless monster, a huge and ugly "pellack-quhaill" (porpoise), and in
this form wrecked the boat of Edward Halcro, to whom she and her husband
had "ane deadlie and veneficial malice?" Halcro and four other men were in
the boat, and public suspicion pointed at once to Marion, and affirmed
this wreck to be caused by her wicked deed. So when two of the dead bodies
were brought to land, she and her husband had to undergo the
_bahr-recht_--the ordeal by touch of the dead--to prove themselves
innocent or guilty. When they came where they lay the "said umquhile
Edward bled at the collar-bane or craig-bane;" the other in the hand and
fingers, "gushing out bluid thairat, to the great admiration of the
beholders, and judgment of the Almytie." Many and heavy were Marion's
misdeeds. She cursed Janet Robinson, and "accordingly showers of pains and
fits fell upon the victim." She looked upon a cow, and it "crappit
togidder till no lyfe was leukit for her." She took away the profit of
Edward Halcro's brewing, and destroyed the milk of Andrew Erasmusson's kye
for thirteen days. Indeed, her character was so well known that when
Swene, her husband, was working in a peat moss where a sickly fellow was
one of the gang, his fellows would ask him seriously "if he could not make
his wife go to her pobe (foster-father) the devil, and bid him loose a
knot, so that the man might get back his health?" Once she cast a sickness
on a woman, then took it from her and flung it on a calf, which went mad
and died; and she crippled a man, then cured him under compulsion, by
putting her fingers first to his leg and then to the ground, which she did
twice, muttering to herself; but the report of this getting about, she was
angry and banned the man once more, yet once more was forced to cure
him;--this time by means of a bannock prepared with her own hands, whereby
she cast his malady on a cow. Poor cowey died of her strange sickness, and
poor Marion died of a worse disease--the rope and the faggot: and then the
neighbourhood slept in peace.