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Scottish
Witches
It
was not until the beginning of the 19th century that the fear
of witches began noticeably to die out. Before that it was seriously
believed that certain women were endowed by the Devil with supernatural
powers which they used for evil purposes.
This again
is a survival of a pagan cult common to Europe. Long after the
pagan world had become (nominally) Christian, people continued
to practice the old rites.
A witch
persecution mania spread over the continent in the 15th century.
It took some time to reach Scotland, and it lingered there longer
than in other parts. Today we dismiss witchcraft as an outworn
superstition, but at that time any old and eccentric person
was in real danger of being tried as a witch—younger people,
too—and witch trials were far from satisfactory. Many
innocent folk (even those of noble birth) suffered torture.
In the 16th century, for instance, Lady Glamis was publicly
burned for witchcraft on the Calton Hill, Edinburgh, “with
great commiseration of the people, in regard to her noble blood
and her singular beauty, and suffering all, though a woman,
with man-like courage."
Witch Pools,
where witch suspects were lowered into the water in ducking stools,
occur here and there. There is one at Lunan, and, if I remember
rightly, another at Abernyte called the Witches’ Dub.
Witches
were also tried at Perth, Forfar and elsewhere. It was said
that they held their revels at Caterthun (near Brechin), at
the Loch of Forfar, at Petterden (between Dundee and Forfar),
and in the vicinity of Kirriemuir.
Jean, the
Witch, wife of Cardean, was well known around Meigle. She lived
in a cottage alongside the Dean Water, with the Witches’
Knowe nearby. Jean’s sorceries were much in demand for
the cure of cattle diseases. Her advice was often reasonable
and good, but people feared her, and she was said to hold meetings,
often very quarrelsome ones with the Devil. At Boglebee (near
Kilspindie) there is a tumulus and two large stones. They are
said to have been flung by the giant son of a witch who lived
at Collace. He used her mutch as a sling, and meant to land
the stones in Perth, but the string broke and they landed here.
The Devil
appears in many Tayside place—names, and he seems to own
a lot of property along the Angus coast especially. His “head”
is there (an isolated stack of red sandstone) and so are his
“anvil,” his “letterbox” and his “grindstone.”
The anvil is a rock in the gloomy portals of the Dark Cave.
The letter box is a chink in the rocks through which a turmoil
of waters can be seen below. The grindstone can be heard, not
seen—it is a whirring noise that occurs near Auchmithie
at certain states of wind and tide. In olden days no Auchmithie
fisherman dared go to sea when that dreaded sound was heard.
There is
the “Devil’s Knapp” at Lunan, and the “Devil’s
Knowe” at Brunton; there is the famous “Devil’s
Elbow” on the Cairnwell Road to Braemar. And many others.
The Devil himself has appeared from time to time. It is recorded
that he arrived in a cloud of sulphur smoke at a mill at Lethnot,
but was soon routed completely by the local minister. The Lethnot
district, incidentally, is notable for its old tales and superstitions.
Its Whisky Road (or Priest’s Road) is now an almost forgotten
hill-track, but at one time it was almost a main road for foot
travellers between the Highlands and the Lowlands, and was well
used by drovers, harvesters and smugglers, as well as by the
minister of Lochlee, the “other half” of whose parish
lay on the south side of Wirren, “the hill of springs.”
Scottish
Witch Confessions
Almost
all witches who have been executed in Scotland for this alleged
crime have confessed, and their confessions are remarkahly uniform,
particularly as to
their carnal dealings with the devil. This is not to be wondered
at, as the report of the confession of one produced similar
impressions upon the disturbed
imagination of another, and none confessed until they were reduced
to a state of delirious and bewildered imbecility.
Kept
without sleep, and incessantly tormented in their bodies by
prickers, or in their minds by the clergy; excluded from all
but their tormentors ; believing what they had been told of
others, although conscious of their own innocence ; hearing
of nothing but terrible horrors, expecting no mercy, and with
the dread of the bale-fire continually before their eyes, when
worn out with suffer-
ings, at last they were left alone without fire, light, or comfort,
in some dungeon, kirk-steeple, or such place,
in the state of partial derangement to whch they were reduced,
there can be no doubt that they dreamt of the
pitiable absurdities which they afterwards believed to be true,
confessed, and were burnt, while their nearest re-
latives dared not, even to themselves, complain of the wrong.
Scottish
Witch Tests
When
a person was accused of witchcraft, pins were thrust into the
body, and if the searchers happened upon a place where, from
hardness of the flesh or any other cause, acute pain was not
inflicted, tlns was an insensible mark, and held an infallible
proof of the person being in league with Satan.
If
the ministers and judges themselves had been properly pricked
all over the body, after being kept from sleep four days, they
would have been glad to remain still and motionless, if the
pin had come into a place where it excited no pain. Yet by such
test was guilt or innocence decided on, and many lost their
lives.
Useful
Scottish Witch
1597.
Isobell Straquhan could not only produce love, but remove hatred.
Walter Ronaidson had used to strike
his wife, who took consultation with Straquhan, and she did
take pieces of paper, and sew them thick with thread
of divers colours, and did put them in the barn amongst the
corn, and from henceforth the said Walter did never
strike his wife, neither yet once found fault with her, whatsoever
she did.
He
was subdued “entirely to her love.”
Scottish
Orkney Witch
Some
sixty years since an old weird woman lived in Stromness, who
sold winds to mariners at a remarkably low figure. For the small
charge of six-pence, “awful Bessie Miller” would
sell a wind to a skipper from any
point of the compass he chose to have it.
In
Orkney there are, it is said, old women still living who earn
an “honest penny” by controlling nature; there is
not a pain, from the first that a child can cause to the last
a mortal endures in getting rid of mortality, but these crones
profess to relieve.
We
learn too, on competent authority, that old Orkney women still
retain an unaccountable aversion to turbot, and avoid naming
it when crossiun sounds and bays in boats.
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