In 1649, John Kinnaird, the witch-finder, made deposition that he had “pricked” Patrik Watson, of West Fenton, and Manie Haliburton, his spouse, and that he had found the devil’s mark on Patrik’s back a little under the point of his left shoulder, and on Manie’s neck a little above her left shoulder; of which marks they were not sensible (had no feeling in them), neither came there any blood when pricked. So Manie, seeing that the scent was hot and the game up, made confession, and saved further trouble. She said that eighteen years ago, the devil had come to her in likeness of a man, calling himself a physician, saying that he had good salves, and specially oylispek (oil of spike or spikenard), wherewith he would cure her daughter, then sick. So she bought some of his salves, and gave him two English shillings for her bargain, forbye bread and milk and a pint of ale. In eight days’ time he came again, and stayed all night; and the next morning, Patrik being “forth” and Manie yet in bed, she became more intimately acquainted with the devil than an honest woman should. We do not read that Manie was tortured, and, considering that it was not an unusual thing to keep suspected witches twenty-eight days and nights on bread and water, they being stripped stark naked, with only a haircloth over them, and laid on a cold stone, or to put them into hair-shirts steeped in vinegar, so that the skin might be pulled from off them, we feel that poor Manie got off pretty well with only cremation as the result of her mad confessions.
But one of the most extraordinary things of all was that wonderful bit of knavery and credulity called
THE DEVIL OF GLENLUCE,[44]
when Master Tom Campbell set the whole country in a flame, and brought no end of notice and sympathy upon his house and family. In 1654 one Gilbert Campbell was a weaver in Glenluce, a small village not far from Newton Stewart. Tom, his eldest son, and the most important personage in the drama, was a student at Glasgow College; and there was a certain old blaspheming beggar, called Andrew Agnew—afterwards hanged at Dumfries for his atheism, having said, in the hearing of credible witnesses, that “there was no God but salt, meal, and water”—who every now and then came to Glenluce to ask alms. One day old Andrew visited the Campbells as usual, but got nothing; at which he cursed and swore roundly, and forthwith sent a devil to haunt the house, for it was soon after this refusal that the stirs began, and the connection was too apparent to be denied. For what could they be but the malice of the devil sent by old Andrew in revenge? Young Tom Campbell was the worst beset of all, the demon perpetually whistling and rioting about him, and playing him all sorts of diabolical and malevolent tricks. Once, too, Jennet, the young daughter, going to the well, heard a whistling behind her like that produced by “the small slender glass whistles of children,” and a voice like the damsel’s, saying, “I’ll cast thee, Jennet, into the well! I’ll cast thee, Jennet, into the well!” About the middle of November, when the days were dark and the nights long, things got very bad. The foul fiend threw stones in at the doors and windows, and down the chimney head; cut the warp and threads of Campbell’s loom; slit the family coats and bonnets and hose and shoon into ribbons; pulled off the bed-clothes from the sleeping children, and left them cold and naked, besides administering sounding slaps on those parts of their little round rosy persons usually held sacred to the sacrifices of the rod; opened chests and trunks, and strewed the contents over the floor; knocked everything about, and ill-treated bairn and brother; and, in fact, persecuted the whole family in the most merciless manner. The weaver sent his children away, thinking their lives but barely safe, and in their absence there were no assaults whatever—a thing to be specially noted. But on the minister’s representing to him that he had done a grievous sin in thus withdrawing them from God’s punishments, they were brought back again in contrition. Only Tom was left behind, and nothing ensued until Tom appeared; but unlucky Tom brought back the devil with him, and then there was no more peace to be had.
On the Sunday following Master Tom’s return, the house was set on fire—the devil’s doing: but the neighbours put the flames out again before much damage had ensued. Monday was spent in prayer; but on Tuesday the place was again set on fire, to be again saved by the neighbours’ help. The weaver, in much trouble, went to the minister, and besought him to take back that unlucky Tom, whom the devil so cruelly followed and molested; which request he, after a time, “condescended to,” though assuring the weaver that he would find himself deceived if he thought that the devil would quit with the boy. And so it proved; for Tom, having now indoctrinated some of his juniors with the same amount of mechanics and legerdemain as he himself possessed, managed that they should be still sore troubled—the demon cutting their clothes, throwing peats down the chimney, pulling off turf and “feal” from the roof and walls, stealing their coats, pricking their poor bodies with pins, and raising such a clamour that there was no peace or rest to be had.
The case was becoming serious. Glenluce objected to be made the head-quarters of the devil; and the ministers convened a solemn meeting for fast and humiliation; the upshot of which was that weaver Campbell was led to take back his unlucky Tom, with the devil or without him. For this was the point at issue in the beginning; the motive of which is not hard to be discovered. Whereupon Tom returned; but as he crossed the threshold he heard a voice “forbidding him to enter that house, or any other place where his father’s calling was exercised.” Was Tom, the Glasgow student, afraid of being made a weaver, consent or none demanded? In spite of the warning voice he valiantly entered, and his persecutions began at once. Of course they did. They were tremendous, unheard of, barbarous; in fact, so bad that he was forced to return once more for a time to the minister’s house; but his imitator or disciple left behind carried on business in his absence. On Monday, the 12th day of February, the demon began to speak to the family, who, nothing afraid, answered quite cheerily: so they and the devil had long confidential chats together, to the great improvement of mind and morals. The ministers, hearing of this, convened again, and met at weaver Campbell’s, to see what they could do. As soon as they entered, Satan began: “Quum literatum is good Latin,” quoth he. These were the first words of the Latin rudiments, as taught in the grammar-school. Tom’s classical knowledge was coming into play.
After a while he cried out, “A dog! a dog!” The minister, thinking he was alluded to, answered, “He thought it no evil to be reviled of him;” to which Satan replied civilly, “It was not you, sir, I spoke to: I meant the dog there;” for there was a dog standing behind backs. They then went to prayer, during which time Tom—or the devil—remained reverently silent; his education being not yet carried out to the point of scoffing. Immediately after prayer was ended, a counterfeit voice cried out, “Would you know the witches of Glenluce? I will tell of them,” naming four or five persons of indifferent repute, but one of whom was dead. The weaver told the devil this, thinking to have caught him tripping; but the foul fiend answered promptly, “It is true she is dead long ago, but her spirit is living with us in the world.”
The minister replied, saying, “Though it was not convenient to speak to such an excommunicated and intercommuned person, ‘the Lord rebuke thee, Satan, and put thee to silence. We are not to receive information from thee, whatsoever fame any person goes under. Thou art seeking but to seduce this family, for Satan’s kingdom is not divided against itself.’” After which little sparring there was prayer again; so Tom did not take much by this move.
All the while the young Glasgow student was very hardly holden, so that there was more prayer on his special behalf. The devil then said, on their rising, “Give me a spade and a shovel, and depart from the house for seven days, and I will make a grave and lie down in it, and shall trouble you no more.”
The good man Campbell answered, “Not so much as a straw shall be given thee, through God’s assistance, even though that would do it. God shall remove thee in due time.” Satan cried out, impudently, “I shall not remove for you. I have my commission from Christ to tarry and vex this family.” Says the minister, coming to the weaver’s assistance, “A permission thou hast, indeed; but God will stop it in due time.” Says the demon, respectfully, “I have, sir, a commission which perhaps will last longer than yours.” And the minister died in the December of that year, says Sinclair. Furthermore, the demon said he had given Tom his commission to keep. Interrogated, that young gentleman replied in an off-hand way, that “he had had something put into his pocket, but it did not tarry.” They then began to search about for the foul fiend, and one gentleman said, “We think this voice speaks out of the children.” The foul fiend, very angry at this—or Master Tom frightened—cries out, “You lie! God shall judge you for your lying; and I and my father will come and fetch you to hell with warlock thieves.” So the devil discharged (forbade) the gentleman to speak anything, saying, “Let him that hath a commission speak (meaning the minister), for he is the servant of God.” The minister then had a little religious controversy with the devil, who answered at last, simply, “I knew not these scriptures till my father taught me them.” Nothing of all this disturbing the easy faith of the audience, they, through the minister, whom alone he would obey, conjured him to tell them who he was; whereupon he said that he was an evil spirit come from the bottomless pit of hell, to vex this house, and that Satan was his father. And then there appeared a naked hand, and an arm from the elbow downward, beating on the floor till the house did shake again, and a loud and fearful crying, “Come up, father! come up, father! I will send my father among ye! See! there he is behind your backs!”