June.
This seems to have been the time when the word Tories, since so notable, was introduced into our island. It had been first applied to a set of predatory outlaws in Ireland. Thus becoming familiar as a term for brigands, it naturally was applied to a number of irregular soldiers connected with the insurgent army of the Earl of Glencairn, who, according to Nicoll, lay in holes and other private places, and robbed and spoiled all who fell into their hands, ‘ofttimes with the purse cutting the throat of the awner.’ The English troops bestirred themselves to capture these Tories, and in July, eight were taken out of the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, and as many out of the Canongate jail, besides others from Perth and Dundee, and shipped at Leith to be taken and sold as slaves in Barbadoes.—Nic.
Sep. 4.
Andrew Hill, musician, was tried for the abduction of a young pupil, Marion Foulis, daughter of Foulis of Ravelston. One of the many specific charges against this base fellow was, that ‘he used sorceries and enchantments—namely, roots and herbs—with which he boasted that he could gain the affection of any woman he pleased, and which he used towards the said Marion.’ The jury, while condemning him for the main offence, acquitted him of sorcery, though finding that he had been ‘a foolish boaster of his skill in herbs and roots for captivating women.’ While the judges delayed for fifteen days to pass doom upon the culprit, he was ‘eaten of vermin in prison, and so died.’[170]
1654.
It was surely a very perverse love of the supernatural which caused our ancestors to surmise the use of sorcery whenever Cupid played any extraordinary trick. At a later time, when the Earl of Rothes, his majesty’s commissioner, defied scandal in going about openly with Lady Anne Gordon, it was thought he had been bewitched by her. It was also believed that the Duke of Monmouth was spell-bound to Lady Henrietta Wentworth, the charm being lodged in that golden toothpick case which he sent to her from the scaffold. The means, however, thought to be most commonly employed was a love-philter. In 1682, James Aikenhead, apothecary in Edinburgh, was pursued before the Privy Council for ‘selling poisonous and amorous drugs and philters, whereby a woman had narrowly escaped with her life, had not Doctor Irving given her ane antidote.’ On this occasion, the case being referred to the College of Physicians, that sapient body pronounced that it was ‘not safe to give such medicaments, without first taking their own advice.’—Fount.
So lately as 1659, a Scotch gentleman is found communicating to a friend a receipt for that Powder of Sympathy which in a somewhat earlier age in England was held as qualified for the cure of wounds. It was in the following terms: ‘Take of asphodel Romano, and set it under the sun in the canicular days till it become in white ashes, or like white powder. That done, put it in a box. Then to apply: Take the blood or matter of the wound, on a clean linen, and lay on a little of the powder to the blood or matter; and keep the cloth in a box, where it may neither get much cold nor much heat. This done, dress the wounded person every day once, and keep always linen cloths above the wound. But let no linen cloth which hath been used or worn by any woman come near the powder or wounded person. Observe this secret, and keep it to yourself.’[171]
Oct.