The greatness of the Keith Marischal family probably seemed to him as
firmly set as the old Castle of Dunnottar itself on its conglomerate
basis beside the sea. When the above story was put down in writing,
sixty years had elapsed, and the narrator could not but remark the
reduction which the civil war and usurpation of Cromwell had by that
time wrought upon the once enormous wealth of the house of Keith
Marischal. What would he have felt, could he have known that in sixty
years from his time, the family would be out of lands and titles,
exiles from their native country; or that in sixty more, there would
not be a male descendant of the Earls Marischal in existence, of
cadency later than the fifteenth century, while the ancient fortress
of Dunnottar would stand roofless and grass-grown, and, except for the
melancholy interest of the passing visitor, might as well be crumbled
beneath the waves that beat upon the subjacent cliffs!
* * * * *
A series of extraordinary trials for witchcraft and other crimes
commenced at this date.
[Sidenote: 1590.]
One David Seaton, dwelling in Tranent, suspected his servant-maid,
Geilie Duncan, of a supernatural power of curing sickness, and, having
subjected her to the torture of the pilniewinks (a screw for the
fingers), soon extorted from her, not only a confession that the devil
had given her the power of a witch, but information inculpating a
number of persons in the like criminality. Among these were John Fian
(_alias_ Cunningham), schoolmaster at Prestonpans; Agnes Sampson, a
midwife at Keith; Barbara Napier, the wife of a citizen of Edinburgh;
and Eupham M‘Calyean, a lady of rank, daughter of a deceased judge of
the Court of Session. The confessions of these persons, for the most
part wrung from them by torture, form a strange jumble of possible and
impossible, of horrible and ludicrous things; nor are they even devoid
of historical importance, seeing that they involved the honour of the
Earl of Bothwell, who was thus apparently led into those troubles from
which he never got free, and by which the peace of the king and his
kingdom was for some years seriously compromised.
Fian, who was a young man, confessed to some wicked arts which he had
practised for obtaining the love of a young woman of his neighbourhood.
There was nothing in them or their effects but what is easily
reconcilable with natural fact, even to the striking of a rival with
a sort of madness, under which, when brought into the king’s chamber,
where Fian was under examination, he fell abounding and capering with
an energy which it required many persons to restrain, and this for an
hour together, at the end of which he declared that he had been in a
sound sleep. But Fian also admitted, though only under torture, his
having had conferences with the devil; he had attended various meetings
of witches with the Enemy of Man, some of which took place in North
Berwick Kirk, and on these occasions he had acted as registrar or clerk
of proceedings. He had also been one of a party of witches which went
off from Prestonpans one night to a ship at sea, which they sunk by
their incantations. He had chased a cat at Tranent, with the design of
throwing it into the sea, in order to raise storms for the destruction
of shipping; and in this chase it was alleged that he was borne above
the ground, and had leaped a wall, the head of which he could not, but
for witchcraft, have touched with his hand. Out of many facts laid
to his charge at his trial, there is one which modern science has no
difficulty in explaining upon natural principles--‘Passing to Tranent
on horseback, and ane man with him, [he] by his devilish craft, raisit
up four candles upon the horse’s twa lugs [ears], and ane other candle
upon the staff whilk the man had in his hand, and gave sic licht as gif
it had been daylicht; like as the said candles returnit with the said
man at his hame-coming, and causit him fall dead at the entry within
the house.’
[Sidenote: 1590.]
After his first examination and confession, Fian was put into a
separate room, where he quickly came to a state of penitence, renounced
the devil and his works, and professed to have returned to God. Next
day he told his keepers that he had had a vision of the devil, who,
finding him a determined rebel against his authority, said: ‘Once ere
thou die thou shalt be mine;’ after which he broke a white wand which
he held in his hand, and vanished. Fian soon after contrived to escape
from prison, but was retaken and brought back, when, being found to
deny his former confession, the king expressed his belief that he
must have entered into a new compact with the Prince of Darkness. His
person was searched for marks, but in vain; and he was then subjected
to tortures of the direst kind, with a view to bringing him back to his
confession. The nails of the poor wretch were torn away with pincers;
needles were thrust up to the heads in his fingers, and his legs were
crushed in the boots till ‘the blood and marrow spouted forth.’ He
resisted all, and thus only impressed the king and others with the
conviction that the devil had entered into his heart. He was then
arraigned, condemned, and burned.
The trials of three of the women inculpated took place in the course
of a few ensuing months--that of Agnes Sampson on the 27th of January
1591. At the previous examinations, the king presided, manifesting
a deep interest in the declarations of the prisoners, as if he read
therein the materials of a new branch of science; and, indeed, there
can be little doubt that what he now learned formed the groundwork of
his subsequent work on _Demonology_.
The cases were the more remarkable on account of the apparent character
and station of the culprits. Sampson was a grave, matron-like woman,
who gave composed, pertinent answers to all that was put to her; while
Napier and M‘Calyean belonged to the upper class of society. Sampson’s
dittay consists of no fewer than fifty-three articles, each charging
some distinct form or act of sorcery, most of them cures or attempts
to cure, or else prophecies of events which actually came to pass,
all being done with the assistance of her familiar, the devil. The
various articles, numerous as they are, must have been founded on the
confessions previously drawn from the accused by means of the inhuman
torture of a rope twisted round the head, which she is said to have
endured for an hour unmoved. It was alleged that for her cures she
uttered incantations in rhyme; but these appear to have had nothing
devilish in them, one being merely a rough version of the Apostles’
Creed, while another runs as follows:
‘All kinds of ills that ever may be,
In Christ’s name I conjure ye;
I conjure ye baith mair and less,
With all the vertues of the Mess;
And richt sae, by the nailis sae,
That nailit Jesus and nae mae;
[Sidenote: 1590.]
And richt sae, by the samen blude,
That reekit o’er the ruthful rood:
Furth of the flesh and of the bane,
And in the erd and in the stane,
I conjure ye in God’s name!’
In two or three cases, one is reminded of the doctrines of modern
mesmerism. Being called to see a sick boy at Prestonpans, she only
_graipit him_--that is, felt him over--and he was healed. Some cattle
she had cured by going up between them in their stalls, ‘straking
their backs and wames [stroking their backs and bellies], and saying
_Ave Maria_ oft ower.’ The thirty-fifth count charges her with ‘curing
Robert Kerse in Dalkeith, wha was heavily tormented with witchcraft and
disease laid on him by ane westland warlock, when he was in Dumfries;
whilk sickness she took upon herself, and keepit with great groaning
and torment till the morn; on whilk time there was ane great din heard
in the house; whilk sickness she cast off herself in the close, to the
effect ane cat or dog might have gotten the same; and, notwithstanding,
the same was laid upon Alexander Douglas in Dalkeith, wha dwined and
departed therewith, and the said Robert Kerse was made hale.’
[Sidenote: 1590.]
A curious affair is related as taking place at a gentleman’s house near
Edinburgh. ‘When she was sent for to heal the auld Lady Edmestone,
when she lay sick, before the said Agnes departit she tauld to the
gentlewomen that she should tell them that night whether the lady wald
heal or nocht; and appointit them to be in the garden after supper,
betwix five and sax at even. She passit to the garden to devise upon
her prayer, on what time she chargit the devil, calling him _Elva_, to
come and speak to her; wha came in ower the dyke, in likeness of ane
dog, and came sae near her, that she was afraid, and chargit him “on
the law that he lived on,” to come nae nearer, but to answer her; and
she demandit “whether the lady wald live or not.” He said: “Her days
were gane.” When he demandit: “Gif the gentlewomen her dochters, where
they were?” And she said: “That the gentlewomen said, that they were
to be there.” He answerit: “Ane of them sould be in peril, and that he
sould have ane of them.” She answerit: “It sould not be sae;” and sae
[he] departit frae her yowling. Frae this time till after supper, he
remainit in the wall [well]. When the gentlewomen came in, the dog came
out of the wall, and appearit to them; whereat they were affrayit. In
the meantime, ane of the said gentlewomen, the Lady Torsonce, ran to
the wall, being forcit and drawn by the devil, wha wald have drownit
her, were not the said Agnes and the rest of the gentlewomen gat ane
grip of her, and with all their forces drew her back again, whilk
made them all affrayit. The dog passit away thereafter with ane yowl.
Then she said to the gentlewomen that she could not help the lady, in
respect that her prayer stoppit, and that she was sorry for it....’
On Sampson’s trial, some of the transactions first revealed in Fian’s
case came out in greater detail, particularly the night-meeting of
the sorcerers of the district with their grisly master at North
Berwick Kirk. What follows was the woman’s own confession before the
king: ‘The devil, in man’s likeness, met her going out in the fields
from her awn house in Keith, betwix five and sax at even, being her
alane, and commandit her to be at North Berwick Kirk the next nicht.
She passit there on horseback, convoyit by her good-son, called John
Couper, and lichtit at the kirk-yard: a little before she came to it,
about eleven hours at even, they dancit alangs the kirk-yard. Geilie
Duncan playit to them on ane trump. John Fian, missalit [masked], led
all the rest; the said Agnes and her daughter followit next; besides
thir, wee [little] Kate Gray, George Mowat’s wife, Robert Grierson,
Catherine Duncan, Bessie Wright, Isobel Gylour, John Ramsay’s wife,
Annie Richardson, Jonet Gaw, Nicol Murray’s wife tailor, Christian
Carrington _alias_ Lukit, Maisie Aitchison, Marion Paterson, Alexander
Whitelaw, Marion Nicholson, Marion Bailie, Jonet Nicholson, John
Graymeal, Isobel Lauder, Helen White, Margaret Thomson, Marion Shiel,
Helen Lauder, Archy Hennel’s wife, Duncan Buchanan, Marion Congleton,
Bessie Gullan, Bessie Brown the smith’s wife, Thomas Burnhill and his
wife, Gilbert M‘Gill, John M‘Gill, Catherine M’Gill, with the rest of
their complices, above ane hundred persons, whereof there was sax men,
and all the rest women. The women first made their homage, and next the
men. The men were turned nine times withershins about [contrary to the
direction of the sun], and the women sax times.’ Another account, from
Sampson’s confessions, states that the witches took hands and danced a
reel to Geilie Duncan’s music, singing in one voice:
‘Cummer, go ye before; cummer, go ye;
Gif ye will not go before, cummer, let me.’
Geilie Duncan, being sent for, came and played the very tune over
again, upon a Jew’s harp, before the king.
[Illustration: The Devil preaching to the Witches--From a contemporary
print.]
[Sidenote: 1590.]
To proceed with the narrative as given in the dittay: ‘John Fian blew
up the doors, and blew in the lichts, whilk were like meikle black
candles sticking round about the pulpit. The devil start up himself
in the pulpit, like ane meikle black man, and callit every man by his
name, and every ane answerit: “Here, Master.” Robert Grierson being
namit, they ran all hirdy-girdy, and were angry; for it was promisit,
that he should be callit “Robert the Comptroller, _alias_ Rob the
Rower,” for expreming of his name. The first thing he demandit was,
“Gif they [had] keepit all promise and been guid servants?” and “What
they had done since the last time they had convenit?” On his command,
they openit up the graves, twa within and ane without the kirk, and
took off the joints of their fingers, taes, and knees, and partit
them amang them; and the said Agnes Sampson gat for her part ane
winding-sheet and twa joints, whilk she tint negligently. The devil
commandit them to keep the joints upon them, while [till] they were
dry, and then to make ane powder of them, to do evil withal. Then he
commandit them to keep his commandments, whilk were to do all the evil
they could.’ The devil then ordered them to perform an act of homage
towards himself, which does not admit of description, but which may
be said to have been at least one degree more humiliating than the
kissing of the papal great toe. In the account of the confessions, it
is stated that he inveighed against the king, and, being asked why he
had such a hatred to him, answered: ‘By reason the king is the greatest
enemy he hath in the world.’ According to the dittay, the devil ‘had on
him ane gown and ane hat, whilk were baith black; and they that were
assembled, part stood and part sat. John Fian was ever nearest the
devil, at his left elbock; Graymeal keepit the door.’
Mrs Sampson was adjudged to be taken to the Castle-hill, and there
strangled at a stake, and her body burned to ashes.
Barbara Napier was tried, May 8, 1591, on charges similar to those
preferred against Sampson: she was found guilty of a few of the less
important articles, but acquitted of being at the North Berwick
convention and other more grave charges; nevertheless, she was
condemned to death. The king was highly incensed at the partial
acquittal, and came in person to court to preside at a trial of the
jurors for wilful error, when they contrived to avert his wrath by
throwing themselves on his mercy. After all, Napier had execution
delayed on account of pregnancy, and in the end was set at liberty. Of
the royal leniency on this occasion, the clergy did not fail to take
note. It will be found that they twitted the king with it some time
after.
[Sidenote: 1590.]
At Sampson’s trial, the only charge against her in which the safety
of the king was involved, was the helping to raise a storm to stop
the coming of the queen to Scotland. But now, on the trial of Napier,
more serious charges were preferred. It was alleged that at Lammas
last there had been a witch-meeting at Aitchison’s Haven, and in the
midst of it was the devil, ‘in likeness of ane black man.’ ‘Agnes
Sampson proponit the destruction of his hieness’ person, saying
to the devil: “We have ane turn to do, and we wald be at it if we
could, and therefore help us to it.” The devil answerit, “he sould do
what he could, but it wald be lang to, because it wald be thorterit
[thwarted];” and he promisit to her and them ane picture of wax, and
ordenit her and them to hing, roast, and drop ane taid [toad], and to
lay the drops of the taid, mixed with strong wash, ane adder-skin,
and the thing in the forehead of ane new foalit foal, in his hieness’
way, where it micht drop upon his hieness’ head or his body, for
his hieness’ destruction.... Agnes Sampson was appointit to mak the
picture [of the king], and to give it to the devil to be enchantit,
whilk she made indeed, and gave it to him; and he promisit to give
it to the said Barbara [Napier] and to Effie M‘Calyean, at the next
meeting, to be roastit.... There was ane appointit to seek some of
his hieness’ linen claiths, to do the turn with.’ At the North Berwick
meeting on All-hallow even, ‘Robert Grierson said thir words: “Where
is the thing ye promisit?” meaning the picture of wax devisit for
roasting and undoing his hieness’ person, whilk Agnes Sampson gave
him.... He answerit: “It sould be gotten at next meeting.”... Barbara
and Effie M‘Calyean gat then ane promise of the devil, that his
hieness’ picture sould be gotten to them twa, and that right soon.’ It
is highly noteworthy that none of these particulars appear either in
the indictments against Fian and Sampson, or in the accounts of their
confessions which came out about the time of their trials.
The trial of Eupham M‘Calyean commenced on the 9th of June. She was
taxed with many acts of sorcery of a common kind--such as this:
‘Consulting and seeking help at Anny Sampson, ane notorious witch, for
relief of your pain in the time of the birth of your twa sons, and
receiving frae her to that effect ane bored stane, to be laid under the
bowster, put under your head, enchanted moulds [earth] and powder put
in ane piece paper, to be usit and rowit in your hair; and at the time
of your drowis [throes], your guidman’s sark to be presently ta’en off
him and laid wimplit round your bed feet. The whilk being practisit by
you ... your sickness was casten off you, unnaturally, in the birth of
your first son, upon ane dog, whilk ran away and never was seen again:
and in the birth of your last son, the same practice was usit, and your
natural and kindly pain unnaturally casten off you upon the wanton cat
in the house; whilk likewise was never seen thereafter.’ It was also
alleged of Eupham, that, eighteen years before, she had ‘consulted with
Jonet Cunningham in the Canongate-head, _alias_ callit Lady Bothwell,
ane auld indytit witch of the finest champ, for poisoning of Joseph
Douglas of Pumfrastown, and that by ane potion of composit water whilk
she send her servant John Tweedale for, to be brought up to Barbara
Towers’s house in ane chopin stoup.’ What was more to the purpose, she
was accused of her concern in the affair of the waxen picture, and of
having conspired to raise a storm for stopping or drowning the queen
on her way from Denmark. After a trial of three days, a verdict was
returned against her on the chief points, and this unfortunate lady was
condemned to be burned alive at a stake on the Castle-hill.
[Sidenote: 1590.]
Throughout all the proceedings connected with these trials, as far as
they have been preserved, there is no appearance of any imputation
against the Earl of Bothwell; but Spottiswoode affirms that Sampson,
in her confessions, had attributed to him the guilt of suggesting the
picture device, adding that the devil, finding his plans of no avail
against the king, said: ‘Il est un homme de Dieu.’ It also appears
that James discovered further matter against Bothwell, in the course
of examining the wizard Richard Graham.[182] The turbulent lord was
therefore committed to ward, from which he broke out only three days
before the death of M’Calyean, June 22d. He was now forfaulted on a
former sentence, and henceforth became a broken man, though one still
able to create no small trouble to his sovereign.
A review of these circumstances leaves a strange feeling on the mind,
as if we were reading that which was deficient in some of the most
necessary elements of human action. It is difficult to see to what
extent the so-called wizards and witches were deluders and deluded. Was
there any basis in fact for the affair at North Berwick Kirk, confessed
to by two or three of the culprits, though, it may be remarked, with
varying circumstances? Was Geilie Duncan’s dance-tune truly repeated
before the king? Or were these matters of mere hallucination? Did these
women really aim at doing harm to any one, or were they only lunatics?
The story reads the more inexplicably when we see so many names as of
simple villagers involved in it, and find a king and all his court and
clergy viewing it in a serious light.
* * * * *