“‘From Covenants with uplifted hands,
From Remonstrators with associate bands,
From such Committees as govern’d this nation,
From Church Commissioners and their protestation,
Good Lord deliver us.’
“They hade also the picture of Rebellion in religious habit, with the book Lex Rex in one hand, and the causes of God’s wrath in the other, and this in midst of rocks, and reels, and kirk stools, logs of wood, and spurs, and covenants, acts of assembly, protestations, with this inscription, ‘Rebellion is the Mother of Witchcraft.’”
But Episcopacy was abhorrent to the people generally. A contemporary writer—a Presbyterian—candidly remarks, “I have known some profane people that, if they committed an error over night, thought affronting a curate to-morrow a testimony of their repentance.” This religious animosity had no doubt much to do with the belief that witchcraft was common among the Episcopalian clergy. The Reverend James Kirkton (before alluded to), a true son of the Kirk, writing at that time gravely relates, amongst several similar accusations, that one Gideen Penman said grace at the devil’s table as his chaplain; that one Thomson, the curate of Anstruther, was a “diabolic man,” the wench who bore a lantern in front, as he returned from a visit, “affirming that she saw something like a black beast pass the bridge before him;” and that the hated Archbishop Sharp, when assassinated, had “several strange things,” and, in particular, “parings of nails,” about his person. Archbishop Sharp was also charged with entertaining “the muckle black Deil” in his study at midnight, and of being “levitated” and dancing in the air; and of Archbishop Adamson, men of learning like James, nephew and companion of Andrew Melville, believed that, as in the case of other witches, he had a familiar in the form of a hare, which once ran before him down the street.
It is a curious circumstance, as Pitcairn in his “Criminal Trials” points out, that in almost all the confessions of Scottish witches, their initiation and many of their gatherings were said to have taken place within churches, or at least the surrounding ground, and a certain derisive form of service was carried out. James VI. of Scotland and I. of England was, in the matter of witches, undoubtedly the greatest royal expert that ever lived. His famous dialogue, “Dæmonologie,” in which he carefully classifies witches, describes their ceremonials, and details their various characteristics, did much to encourage popular credulity and the spirit of persecution. “Witches,” he affirms, “ought to be put to death, according to the laws of God, the civil and imperial law, and the municipal law of all Christian nations; yea, to spare the life, and not strike whom God bids strike, and so severely punish so odious a treason against God, is not only unlawful, but, doubtless, as great a sin as was Saul’s sparing Agag.” He even contended that, because the crime was generally abominable, evidence in proof might be received which would be rejected in other offences, and that the only means of escape to be offered was through the ordeal. If we only remember that Luther said he would burn every one of them, urging that there must be witches because the Bible says, “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” we shall wonder less at the credulity of the witch-hunting king.
The principal witch cases and trials in Scotland may be said to date from the conspiracy of devils to prevent James’s union with the Princess Anne of Denmark. “An overwhelming tempest at sea during the voyage of these anti-papal, anti-diabolic, royal personages was the appointed means of their destruction.” To describe the trial of those who were implicated as the human agents, even though it may be one of the most extraordinary and weirdly fascinating stories in the annals of Scottish witchcraft, would be beyond the scope of this article; it is fully related in an exceedingly scarce black-letter pamphlet—“Newes from Scotland, declaring the damnable Life of Doctor Fian, a notable Sorcerer, who was burned at Edenbrough in Januarie last, 1591; which Doctor was Register to the Devill, that sundry times preached at North-Baricke Kirke to a number of notorious Witches, &c.” It may be noted, however, that “Agnis Sampson, which was the elder witch,” at last confessed, “before the king’s majestie and his councell,” “that upon the night of Allhollon-Even, shee was accompanied, as well with the persons aforesaide, as also with a great many other witches, to the number of two hundreth, and that all they together went to sea, each one in a riddle, or cive, and went in the same very substantially, with flaggons of wine, making merrie and drinking by the way in the same riddles, or cives, to the kirke of North-Barrick, in Lowthian, and that after they had landed, tooke handes on the lande, and daunced this reill, or short daunce, singing all with one voice:—
‘Commer, goe ye before, commer, goe ye;
Gif ye will not goe before, commer, let me!’
At which time shee confessed, that this Geillis Duncane (another of those charged) did goe before them, playing this reill or daunce uppon a small trumpe, called a Jewe’s trumpe, untill they entered into the Kerk of North-Barrick.
“These confessions made the king in a wonderful admiration, and sent for the saide Geillis Duncane, who, upon the like trumpe, did play the saide daunce before the kinges majestie, who, in respect of the strangeness of these matters, tooke great delight to be present at their examinations. Item, the said Agnis Sampson confessed that the divell being then at North Barrick Kirke, attending their comming, in the habit or likenesse of a man, and seeing that they tarried over long, hee at their comming enjoyned them all to a penance ... and having made his ungodly exhortations, wherein he did greatly inveigh against the King of Scotland, he received their oathes for their good and true service towards him, and departed; which done, they returned to sea and so home again.
“At which time the witches demanded of the divell, why he did beare such hatred to the king? who answered, by reason the king is the greatest enemie hee hath in the world.”
Spottiswoode also tells a fantastic story in connection with this Agnes Sampson, Dr John Fian, Geillie Duncan, and others, meeting the devil at North Berwick kirk, of black candles round about the pulpit, of the devil calling the roll and preaching a sermon, and of the rifling of three graves for magical cookery. Of Francis, Earl of Bothwell, who was accused of being associated with Dr Fian in his magical conspiracy against the king, and who was also imprisoned for having conspired the king’s death by sorcery, we have this note attached to a curious discourse, from Mr Robert Bruce’s Sermons, preached at Edinburgh, November 9th, 1589—“At the which time the Earle Bothwell made his publicke repentance in the church.” It will not be forgotten that, in “Tam o’ Shanter,” Burns depicts a witches’ meeting in Alloway Kirk:—