Steadily went on these appalling judicial crimes. In February, 1658, two
women and a man were in the Tolbooth at Edinburgh, imprisoned on the
charge of witchcraft. One of the women died in prison, the other, Jonet
Anderson,[47] confessed that before her marriage, which had been only
three months ago, she had given herself up body and soul to the devil, and
that when she was married she had seen him standing by the pulpit. She was
kept only so long as was necessary to prove her not pregnant, and then was
executed, fully repentant. In August four women, "ane of them a maiden,"
were burnt on the Castle Hill in ghastly company; and soon after five more
from Dunbar; and then again nine from Tranent, all confessing. These
seemed to have stayed the appetite of the magistrates for a time, as we
come across no more until 1661, when a painful collection of lies,
slanders, and confessions again harrow up every feeling, and outrage every
reasoning faculty.
Jonet Watson was one of the first to make her confession. She said that in
April last, bypast or thereby, she being at the burial of Lady Dalhousie,
a rix dollar was given to Jean Bughane, to be divided among a certain
number of poor folk, whereof she was one. But Jean ran away with the
money, so poor Jonet got none of it: whereat being very grieved and angry,
when she came to her own house she wished to be revenged on Jean, and at
the wish appeared the devil in the likeness of a pretty boy in green
clothes, and asked: "what ailed her, and what revenge would she have?" He
then gave her his mark and left her under the form of a black dog, and for
three days after she had a gnat constantly with her, and one morning when
she was changing her linen it sat down upon her shoulder, where she had
one of her marks. Also about the time of last Baal-fyre night (the
beginning of May) she was at a meeting in Newton-dein, where was the devil
dressed in green clothes, with a black hat on his head. And here she
denied Christ, and took upon herself to be his servant, he laying his hand
on her head, and receiving from her "all that was under his hand," when he
gave her the name of "weill-dancing Jonet," and she and a few more danced
like Tam o' Shanter's hags, and probably tired the devil out.
Beatrice Leslie[48] was a witch too, and Agnes, wife of William Young,
gave her some wholesome advice and honest reproof on the matter, whereby
Beatrice was offended, and gave her a terrible look; and that very night
William Young awakened out of his sleep all in terror and dismay, crying
out that Beatrice, with a number of cats, was devouring him. Beatrice had
a cat which two coal-heaving damsels killed by letting some coals fall on
it, afterwards adding to their offence by throwing away her coal-basket.
So Beatrice cursed them, and told them "they should see an ill sight
before eight days were past:" as it fell out, for according to her
threatening they were both killed in the coal-pit, though no one else was
hurt; and when she was brought to see and touch the corpses, the one bled
at the nose and the other at the ear, thus proving her guilt beyond the
possibility of denial. Also she helped Alexander Wilson's wife in
child-bed, by cantrips and unholy sleights; sticking a bare knife betwixt
the bed and the straw, sprinkling salt about the bed, and saying, "Lord,
let never ane worse wight waken thee, nor hes laid thee downe," with other
villanies, unwholesome to honest folk; so Beatrice Leslie saw the sun for
the last time between the cord and the flames.