Part 31
Since November 1585, when he was driven from the king’s councils, James Stewart of Newton (sometime Earl of Arran) had lived in obscurity in the north.[215] Now that the Chancellor Maitland was dead, he formed a hope that possibly some use might be found for him at court; he therefore came to Edinburgh privately, and had an interview with the king at Holyroodhouse. He received some encouragement; but as nothing could be done for him immediately, and there were many enemies to reconcile, he bethought him of going to live for a while amongst his friends in Ayrshire, trusting erelong to be sent for.
[Sidenote: 1596.]
The ex-favourite was travelling by Symington, in the upper ward of Lanarkshire, when some one who knew him gave him warning that he was come into a dangerous neighbourhood, for not far from the way he was about to pass dwelt a leading man of that house of Douglas which he had mortally offended by his prosecution of the Regent Morton. This was Sir James Douglas of Parkhead, whose father was a natural brother of the regent: he was now the husband of the heiress of the house of Carlyle of Torthorald, and a man of consideration. Stewart replied disdainfully that he was travelling where he had a right to be, and he would not go out of his way for Parkhead nor any other of the house of Douglas. A mean person who overheard this speech made off and reported it to Douglas, who, on hearing it, rose from table, where he had been dining, and vowed he would have the life of Stewart at all hazards. He immediately mounted, and with three servants rode after his enemy through a valley called the Catslack. When Stewart saw himself pursued, he asked the name of the place, and being told, desired his people to come on with all possible speed, for he had got a response from some soothsayer to beware of that spot. Parkhead speedily overtook him, struck him from his horse, and then mercilessly killed him. Cutting off the head, he caused it to be carried by a servant on the point of a spear, thus verifying another weird saying regarding Stewart, that he should have the highest head in Scotland. His body was left on the spot, to become the prey of dogs and swine.[216]
Thus perished an ex-chancellor of Scotland, one who had been permitted for a time to treat the world as if it had only been made for his own aggrandisement, who had governed a king, struck down a regent, and made the greatest of the old nobility of the country tremble. Violence, insolence, and cruelty had been the ruling principles of his life, and, as Spottiswoode says, ‘he was paid home in the end.’ No decided effort was made to execute justice upon his slayer;[217] but it will be afterwards found that the Ochiltree Stewarts did not forget his death. (See under July 1608.)
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[Sidenote: DEC. 17.
1596.]
An edict of the king against what he called unlawful convocations of the clergy, had raised a general uneasiness and excitement, many believing that all independent action of the clergy was struck at. The prosecution of a minister named David Black, who had slandered the king and queen in the pulpit, and refused to submit to a secular tribunal, added to the turmoil. James had further raised a great distrust regarding his fidelity to the Protestant religion by his allowing the exiled papist lords to return to their own country. It was at this crisis that the tumult long known in French fashion as the _Seventeenth of December_ took place.
‘... being Friday, his majesty being in the Tolbooth sitting in session, and ane convention of ministers being in the New Kirk [a contiguous section of St Giles’s Church], and some noblemen being convenit with them, as in special Blantyre and Lindsay, there came in some devilish officious person, and said that the ministers were coming to take his life. Upon the whilk, the Tolbooth doors were steekit, and there arase sic ane crying, “God and the king!” other some crying, “God and the kirk!” that the haill commons of Edinburgh raise in arms, and knew not wherefore always. There was ane honest man, wha was deacon of deacons; his name was John Watt, smith. This John Watt raisit the haill crafts in arms, and came to the Tolbooth, where the entry is to the Chequer-house, and there cried for a sight of his majesty, or else he sould ding up the yett with fore-hammers, sae that never ane within the Tolbooth sould come out with their life. At length his majesty lookit ower the window, and spake to the commons, wha offerit to die and live with him. Sae his majesty came down after the townsmen were commandit off the gait, and was convoyit by the craftsmen to the abbey of Holyroodhouse.’--_Bir._
[Sidenote: 1596.]
The king either was really exasperated or pretended to be so. Retiring to Linlithgow next day, he sent orders to Edinburgh, discharging the courts of justice from sitting there, commanding one minister to be imprisoned and others to be put to the horn, and citing the magistrates to come and answer for the seditious conduct of their people. Great was the consternation thus produced, insomuch that one Sunday passed without public worship--‘the like of which had not been seen before.’ On the last day of the year, James returned, to all appearance charged with the most alarming intentions against the city. A proclamation was issued, commanding certain lords and Border chiefs of noted loyalty to occupy certain ports and streets. There consequently arose a rumour ‘that the king’s majesty should send in Will Kinmont, the common thief, as should spulyie the town of Edinburgh. Upon the whilk, the haill merchants took their haill geir out of their booths and shops, and transportit the same to the strongest house that was in the town, and remainit in the said house with themselves, their servants, and looking for nothing but that they should have all been spulyit. Siclike, the haill craftsmen and commons convenit themselves, their best goods, as it were ten or twelve households in ane, whilk was the strongest house, and might be best keepit from spulying and burning, with hagbut, pistolet, and other sic armour, as might best defend themselves. Judge, gentle reader, gif this be playing! Thir noblemen and gentlemen, keepers of the ports and Hie Gait, being set at the places foresaid, with pike and spear, and other armour, stood keeping the foresaid places appointit, till his majesty came to St Giles’s Kirk, Mr David Lindsay making the sermon. His majesty made ane oration or harangue, concerning the sedition of the seditious ministers, as it pleased him to term them.’--_Bir._
The affair ended three months after, in a way that supports the opinion of the Laird of Dumbiedykes, that ‘it’s sad work, but siller will help it.’ March 22d, ‘the town of Edinburgh was relaxed frae the horn, and received into the king’s favour again, and the session ordained to sit down in Edinburgh the 25th of May thereafter.’ Next day, ‘the king drank in the council-house with the bailies, council, and deacons. The said bailies and council convoyit his majesty to the West Port thereafter. In the meantime of this drinking in the council-house, the bells rang for joy of their agreement; the trumpets sounded, the drums and whistles played, with [as] many other instruments of music as might be played on; and the town of Edinburgh, for the tumult-raising the 17 of December before, was _ordained to pay to his majesty thretty thousand merks Scottish_.’--_Bir._
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[Sidenote: 1596-7.]
John Mure, of Auchindrain, in Ayrshire, was a gentleman of good means and connections, who acted at one time in a judicial capacity as bailie of Carrick, and gave general satisfaction by his judgments. He was son-in-law to the Laird of Bargeny, one of the three chief men of the all-powerful Ayrshire family of Kennedy. Sir Thomas Kennedy of Colzean, another of these great men, was on bad terms with Bargeny. Mure, who might naturally be expected to take his father-in-law’s side, was for a time restrained by some practical benefits, in the shape of lands, offered to him by Sir Thomas; but the titles to the lands not being ultimately made good, the Laird of Auchindrain conceived only the more furious hatred against the knight of Colzean. This happened about 1595, and it appears at the same time that Sir Thomas had excited a deadly rage in the bosom of the Earl of Cassillis’s next brother, usually called the Master of Cassillis. The Master and Auchindrain, with another called the Laird of Dunduff, easily came to an understanding with each other, and agreed to slay Sir Thomas Kennedy the first opportunity. Such was the manner of conducting a quarrel about land-rights and despiteful words amongst gentlemen in Ayrshire in those days.
[Sidenote: JAN. 1.]
On the evening of the 1st of January, Sir Thomas Kennedy supped with Sir Thomas Nisbet in the house of the latter at Maybole. The Lairds of Auchindrain and Dunduff, with a few servants, lay in wait for him in the yard, and when he came forth to go to his own house to bed, they fired their pistols at him. ‘He being safe of any hurt therewith, and perceiving them with their swords most cruelly to pursue his life, ... was forced for his safety to fly; in which chase they did approach him so near, as he had undoubtedly been overta’en and killed, if he had not adventured to run aside and cover himself with the ruins of ane decayed house; whilk, in respect of the darkness of the night, they did not perceive; but still followed to his lodging, and searched all the corners thereof, till the confluence of the people ... forced them to retire.’[218]
For this assault, Sir Thomas Kennedy pursued at law the Lairds of Auchindrain and Dunduff, and was so far successful that Dunduff had to retire into England, while ‘Colzean gat the house of Auchindrain, and destroyit the ... plenishing, and wrackit all the garden. And also they made mony sets [snares] to have gotten [Auchindrain] himself; but God preservit him from their tyranny.’[219] Auchindrain, however, was forced ‘to cover malice by show of repentance, and for satisfaction of his bypast offence, and _gage_ of his future duty, to offer his eldest son in marriage to Sir Thomas Kennedy’s dochter; whilk, by intercession of friends, [was] accepted.’[220]
We shall hear more of this feud hereafter (see under December 11, 1601).
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[Sidenote: FEB. 17.
1596-7.]
Under a commission from the king, the provost and bailies of Aberdeen commenced a series of witch-trials of a remarkable kind. The first delinquent, Janet Wishart, spouse of John Lees, stabler--a woman considerably advanced in life--was accused of a great number of _maléfices_ perpetrated, during upwards of thirty years, against neighbours, chiefly under a spirit of petty revenge. In the greater number of cases, the victim was described as being seized with an ailment under which he passed through the extremes of heat and cold, and was afflicted with an insatiable drouth. In several cases the illness had a fatal conclusion. For instance, James Low, stabler, having refused Janet the loan of his kiln and barn, took a _dwining_ illness in consequence, ‘melting away like ane burning candle,’ till he died. John, in his last moments, declared his belief that, if he had lent Janet his kiln and barn, he would still have been a living man. ‘By the whilk witchcraft casten upon him, and upon his house, his wife died, his only son [fell] in the same kind of sickness, and his haill geir, surmounting three thousand pounds, are altogether wrackit and away.’ It was considered sufficient proof on this point, that sundry persons testified to having heard James lay on Janet the blame of his misfortunes. Another person had been ruined in his means, in consequence of his wife obeying a direction of Janet for the insurance of constant prosperity--namely, taking nine pickles of wheat and a piece of rowan-tree, and putting them in the four nooks of the house. Janet had also caused a dozen fowls belonging to a neighbour to fall from a roost dead at her feet. She raised wind for winnowing some malt in her own house, at a moment of perfect calm, by putting a piece of live coal at each of two doors. She caused a neighbour’s cow to give something like venom instead of milk. A Mart ox which she wished to buy, became furious; wherefore she got it at her own price, and on her laying her hands on it, the animal became quiet. There is also a terrible recital of her causing a neighbour to accompany her to the gallows in the Links, where she cut pieces from the various members of a dead culprit, to be used for effecting some of her devilish purposes. This story was only reported by one who had received it from the woman herself, now deceased; but it passed as equally good evidence with the rest. It was alleged that, twenty-two years ago, she had been found sitting in a field of green corn before sun-ris, when, being asked what she was doing, she said: ‘I have been peeling the blades of the corn: I find it will be ane dear year; the blade of the corn grows withershins [contrary to the course of the sun]: when it grows sungates about [in the direction of the sun’s course], it will be ane cheap year.’ One of the last points in the dittay was that, for eight days before her apprehension, ‘continually there was sic ane fearful rumbling in thy house, that William Murray, cordiner, believit the house he was into, next to thy house, should have fallen and smoorit him and his haill bairns.’ This poor woman appears to have been taken to the stake immediately after her trial.
Her son, Thomas Lees, was accused of having aided her in her evil deeds, and being ‘ane common witch and sorcerer,’ and his trial (February 23) brings out some curious points. He was accused of having been one of a large company of witches and sorcerers who had gone to the Market and Fish Crosses of Aberdeen at midnight of the previous Halloween (All Saints’ Eve), ‘under the guiding and conduct of the devil ... playing before you on his kind of instruments.’ The company were all transformed, some as hares, some as cats, some in other likenesses, and all danced about the two crosses and the meal-market a long space of time, Thomas being the leader of the ring. One Catherine Mitchell being somewhat laggard, he beat her to make her go faster; a fact to which Catherine herself now bore witness. A woman with whom Thomas had been too intimate also testified to his having offered to take her to Murrayland and marry her, telling her that by the way, at the foot of a particular mountain, he could raise a spirit able to provide them with all necessaries. This poor fellow was also condemned to the flames. The husband and daughters of Janet Wishart--the latter of whom are taxed as well known to be ‘quick gangand devils’--narrowly escaped with banishment from the city.
[Sidenote: 1597.]
Helen Fraser, who was tried in April, was accused of many witchcrafts of common kinds, and of some less common. For instance, she had translated a sickness from a man’s horse to his cow, and, worse than that, the affection of Andrew Tullideff from his wife to a woman called Margaret Neilson, ‘and sae michtily bewitchit him, that he could never be reconceillit with his wife, or remove his affection frae the said harlot.’ Another man, Robert Merchant by name, who had been married happily to Christian White for two years, being taken to sow corn for a widow named Isobel Bruce, at the Murihill of Foveran, where Helen Fraser was then living, ‘fand his affection violently and extraordinarily drawn away from the said Christian to the said Isobel, ane great luve being betwixt him and the said Christian always theretofore, and nae break of luve or discord falling out or intervening upon either of their parts: whilk thing the country supposit to be brought about by the unlawful travelling of the said Helen’--and was further _testified by Robert himself_. Helen was likewise convicted, and of course burnt.
[Sidenote: 1597.]
Isobel Cockie took from cows the power of giving healthful milk, making them give a poisonous stuff instead. She also prevented good milk from ‘yirning.’ Horses had fallen dead under her touch.
Men against whom she had pronounced evil words took deadly sicknesses in consequence, or suffered a decay in their worldly means. Her house being ruinous, the proprietor, Alexander Anderson, had come in her absence, and was proceeding to mend the roof, when she came home, and finding he had uncovered her pantry, where her valuables lay, she said: ‘I shall gar thee forthink it, that thou hast tirrit my house, I being frae hame,’ and _glowrit up at him_. Immediately Alexander’s speech went from him, and he retired to bed sick, and could get no rest or sleep. Under the threats of his son, she was induced to come and charm this sickness away from him, and ‘gave him droggis, that his speech came to him again.’[221] By the confession of the recently burnt Thomas Lees, Isobel Cockie had been second to himself in the infernal dance at the Fish Cross, ‘and because the devil playit not so melodiously and weel as thou cravit, thou took his instrument out of his mouth, then took him on the chafts therewith, and playit thyself thereon to the haill company.’ Isobel was likewise condemned.
[Sidenote: 1597.]
It would be tedious to enter into the long series of trials which extended over this year in and near Aberdeen; but a few particulars are worth giving. The case of Andrew Man, an aged person, formerly of Tarbrugh, in the parish of Rathven, involves a more imaginative style of warlockry than is common. According to his own confessions--that is to say, the hallucinations which he described--the devil came sixty years ago to his mother’s house, in the form of a woman, called the Queen of Elfen, and was delivered of a bairn; at which time, he being a boy, bringing in water, was promised by this distinguished stranger ‘that thou should know all things; and should help and cure all sorts of sickness, except _stand-deid_, and that thou should be weel enterteinit, but wald seek thy meat ere thou de’ed, as Thomas Rhymer did.’ Thirty-two years before, he had begun a guilty intercourse with this Queen of Elfen, at whose first coming, ‘she caused ane of thy cattle die upon ane hillock called the Elf-hillock, but promised to do him good thereafter.’ Andrew, according to his own account, could ‘cure the falling-sickness, the bairn-bed, and all other sorts of sickness that ever fell to man or beast, except the _stand-deid_, by baptising them, reabling them in the auld corunschbald, and striking of the gudis on the face, with ane fowl in thy hand, and by saying thir words: “Gif thou will live, live; and gif thou will die, die!” with sundry other orisons, sic as of Sanct John and the three silly brethren, whilk thou can say when thou please, and by giving of black wool and salt as a remeid for all diseases and for causing a man prosper and that his blude should never be drawn.’ He had cured several persons by his enchantments, one mode being to put the patient nine times through a hasp of unwatered yarn, and then a cat as many times backward through the same hasp, the effect of which was to translate the sickness from the patient to the cat.
The devil, whom Andrew called Christsonday, and believed to be an angel, was raised by the word _Benedicite_, and laid again by taking a dog under his armpit, casting the same in the devil’s mouth, and speaking the word _Maikpeblis_. ‘The Queen of Elfen has a grip of all the craft, but Christsonday is the guidman, and has all power under God, and thou kens sundry deid men in their company, and the king that died at Flodden and Thomas Rhymer is there.’
‘Upon Rood-day in harvest, in this present year, whilk fell on a Wednesday, thou saw Christsonday come out of the snaw in likeness of a staig [young male horse], and the Queen of Elfen was there, and others with her, riding upon white hackneys.’ ‘The elves have shapes and claithes like men, and will have fair covered tables, and they are but shadows, but are starker [stronger] nor men, and they have playing and dancing when they please; the queen is very pleasand, and will be auld and young when she pleases; she makes any king whom she pleases.... The elves will make thee appear to be in a fair chalmer, and yet thou will find thyself in a moss on the morn. They will appear to have candles, and licht, and swords, whilk will be nothing else but dead grass and straes.’ Andrew denied his guilt, but was nevertheless convicted, and doubtless burnt.
In the dittay against Marjory Mutch, it was alleged that, having an ill-will against William Smith in Tarserhill, she came to his plough and bewitched the oxen, so that ‘they instantly ran all wood [mad], brak the pleuch, twa thereof ran over the hills to Deer, and other twa thereof up Ithan side, whilk could never be tane nor apprehendit again.’ This woman was said to have destroyed much cattle, laid sickness on many persons, and attended all the witch conventions of the district. In token of her being a witch, there was a spot under her left ear, into which a gentleman had thrust a pin without producing any pain.
[Sidenote: 1597.]
Margaret Clark, being sent for by the wife of Nicol Ross, when she was in childbed, ‘cast the haill dolours, sickness, and pains whilk she should have susteinit, upon Andrew Harper, wha, during all the time of her travelling, was exceedingly and marvellously troubled, in ane fury and madness as it were, and could not be halden; and how soon the said gentlewoman was delivered, the pains departed frae the said Andrew.’
It is alleged of Violet Leys, that, her husband, a mariner, being discharged from William Finlay’s ship, she and her late mother bewitched the said ship, ‘that, since thy husband was put forth of the same, she never made one good voyage, but either the master or merchants at some times through tempest of weather, were forced to cast overboard the greatest part of their lading, or then to perish, men, ship, and geir.’ Several of the other culprits are accused of raising and calming the wind at pleasure.[222]