Part 24
The rich temporalities of the Abbey of Deir, in Aberdeenshire, had been held since the Reformation by one who was no friend to the Reformed clergy--Robert Keith, second son of William, fourth Earl Marischal. In 1587, they had been erected into a temporal lordship, under the name of the Lordship of Altrie, in their possessor’s favour, to descend, after his death, to his nephew, George Earl Marischal. There was one malcontent with this arrangement--Robert Keith of Benholm, brother of the earl--probably because he had concluded in his own mind that the abbey-lands formed a more appropriate estate for a cadet than for the chief of the family, the latter being already a rich man. It would appear, however, that the earl was understood to have requited the king for the gift by the splendid style in which he conducted his ambassage to Denmark, when negotiating the royal marriage.
At the present date, Robert Keith made an attempt to take forcible possession of the abbey--an act which would have been rash and dangerous at any ordinary time, but might look feasible enough in an age so full of violences of all kinds as the present. We learn that he kept the abbey for six weeks, at the end of which he was driven out by an armed company brought against him by the Earl Marischal. Then retiring to the castle of Fedderat, he stood a siege of three days, which ended in his coming to a truce with his brother, upon what terms does not appear.
The abbacy was well worthy of a struggle, as in 1565 it comprehended a rental of £572, 8s. 6d., with thirteen and a half bolls of wheat, fourteen chalders and ten bolls of beir, and sixty-three chalders nine bolls of meal. The revenue of the earldom to which this became an addition on the death of Lord Altrie in 1593, has been stated at an amount for which there may be some difficulty in obtaining credence--namely, 270,000 merks. Lord Marischal could enter Scotland at Berwick, and travel in the leisurely style of those days through the country to John o’ Groat’s House, and never need to take a meal or a night’s rest off his own lands. That he used his wealth generously, no one can deny, when it is remembered that he bestowed part of it in founding the Marischal College in Aberdeen. Yet, in the eyes of the common people, a weird hung over him. It was thought he did ill to stain his hands with the plunder of the old Cistercian monastery on the banks of the Ugie.
[Sidenote: 1590.]
‘This Earl George, his first wife, daughter to the Lord Home, being a woman of a high spirit and of a tender conscience, forbids her husband to have such a consuming moth in his house as was the sacrilegious meddling with the abbacy of Deir. But fourteen score chalders of meal and beir was a sore tentation; and he could not weel endure the rendering back of such a morsel. Upon his absolute refusal of her demand, she had this vision ... she saw a great number of religious men, in their habit, come forth of that abbey to the strong craig of Dunnottar, which is the principal residence of that family. She also saw them set themselves round about the rock, to get it down and demolish it, having no instruments but only penknives; wherewith they foolishly (as it seemed to her) began to pick at the craig. She smiled to see them intend so fruitless an enterprise, and went to call her husband, to scoff and jeer them out of it. When she had fand him, and brought him to see these silly monks at their foolish work, behold! the whole craig, with all his strong and stately buildings, was by their penknives undermined and fallen in the sea, so as there remained nothing but the rack of their rich furniture and stuff floating on the waves of a raging and tempestuous sea.’[181]
The earl is believed to have mocked the popular notions and his wife’s foreboding dream, by inscribing on a tower he built at Deir, and likewise on the wall of his new college, the defying legend:
THAY. HAIF. SAID : QUHAT. SAY. THAY : LAT. THAME. SAY.
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.]