Chapter VI: Part 6

Sir, I cannot but much approve of your design in publishing “Satan’s invisible world discovered,” especially at this time, when there are so many that deny the existence of devils, spirits, and witches, and will credit nothing but what they see with their eyes. I shall inform you of three remarkable stories, which may be attested by famous witnesses, many of which are yet living.——I had the curiosity, when I was a scholar, to pass over from Borrowstounness to Culross, to see a notable witch burnt. She was carried to the place of execution in a chair by four men, by reason her legs and her belly were broken, by one of the devil’s cunning tricks which he played her. This woman was watched one night in the steeple of Culross by two men, John Shank, a flesher, and one John Drummond; who being weary, went to another room, where there was a fire, to take a pipe. But to secure her, they put her feet in the stocks, and locked them as well as might be. But no sooner were they gone out of the room, but the devil came into the prison, and told her he was obliged to deliver her from the shame she was like to suffer for his sake; and accordingly took her out of the stocks, and embracing her, carried her out of the prison; at which she being terrified, made this exclamation by the way, “O God, whither art thou taking me?” At which words he let her fall, at the distance from the steeple, about the breadth of the street of Edinburgh, where she broke her legs and belly. I saw the impression and dimple of her heels, as many thousands did, which continued for six or seven years; upon which place no grass would ever grow. At last there was a stone-dike built upon the place.—My second relation shall be of some witches at Borrowstounness, which were the occasion of much inquiry after them there. Anno 1644, a certain woman in the town came about eight o’clock in the morning into her neighbour’s house, after a most furious manner, and assaulted her, by scratching her face, and pulling the hair out of her head, saying, “Thou traitor thief, thou thought to have destroyed my son this morning, but it was not in thy power.” The ship wherein the young man was a sailor, had been under a dreadful tempest off and on St. Abb’s Head, that morning; with the violence of a sea, which came in upon the deck, he was cast over board on one side of the ship, and, to the admiration of all, he was cast upon deck again, upon the other side, without harm. This marvellous business being reported about eight o’clock by the mariners, when they came a-shore, and being compared with what the one woman said to the other that morning, both of them were apprehended, and, after their confession, were both burnt, many hundreds being spectators, whereof I was one.—The last, which is more remarkable, shall be anent the wife of one Goodall, a cooper in the parish of Carron. This woman was about thirty-two or thirty-three years of age, a most beautiful and comely person as was in the country about. She was often filed and delated by many who had been burnt. They told, that amongst them all, she was the person whom the devil at their meetings did most court and embrace, calling her constantly, “My dear mistress,” setting her always at his right hand, to the great discontent of his old hags, whom, as they conceived, he now slighted. She was apprehended, and committed to prison. At this time there was one James Fleming, a master of a ship there, a person of great courage, strength, and resolution, who had it insinuate to him by her, when he was exhorting her to confess, that in respect she understood he was to be upon her watch the next night, if she got no deliverance as she expected before one o’clock in the morning, she would lay her heart open to him before others. At which he being apprehensive of what might fall out, as indeed he had reason, went to his uncle, a grave and experienced person, who advised him to take all his ships company, to the number of fourteen able men, and keep watch, not forgetting the reading of scripture, and earnest prayer to God. The night was still and calm, like a summer’s night, without the least appearance of change, when upon a sudden at midnight, as James Fleming himself was discoursing to her, and again, as the custom was, holding her by the hand, I say, upon a sudden, a terrible tempest, like a hurricane, came on, which took the roof from the house, to their great consternation; and a voice was heard three times, calling her by a strange name to come away; at which time she made three several leaps upward, increasing gradually, till her feet were as high as his breast. But he held her by both the arms, and (as he used to say, when he spoke of it), he be-teached himself strongly and earnestly to God, though with great amazement, his hair standing widdershins in his head. And after the third call, he prevailed against the greatest effort which ever he felt, and threw her on the ground, she grovelling and foaming like one having the falling sickness, where she fell into a profound sleep, for the space of two or three hours. When she awakened, she declaimed most bitterly against the devil’s treachery and perfidiousness, who had promised to carry her to Ireland before four o’clock in the morning, and to touch at Paisley, where she might see her sister in passing. She made a free and full confession, and delated many women, some of them of good repute, who afterwards confessed and died also. The author of this letter is a person of great honesty and sincerity. From the first relation of his, we have an evident instance, that the devil can transport the bodies of men and women through the air. ’Tis true, he did not carry her far off, but not for want of skill and power. Neither was he afraid to hear the name of God spoken; but proposing to destroy both the soul and body of the poor creature, he has pretended so much to excuse himself at her hand.——The first story brings me in mind of one Creek, a witch put in prison in the steeple of Culross, to whom several years ago Mr. Alexander Colvil, justice-depute, came, a gentleman of great sagacity and knowledge as to witches. He asked if she was a witch? She denied. “Dare you hold up your hand and swear that you are not a witch!” “Yes, Sir,” said she. But behold what a remarkable judgment of God came upon her! While she was swearing, with her arm lifted up, it become as stiff as a tree, that she could not pull it in again, to the amazement of all that were present. One person yet living there was a witness, and can attest this. The gentleman, seeing the vengeance of God upon her for her wickedness, falls down presently upon his knees, and entreated the Lord on her behalf, who was graciously pleased to hear him.—Some are of opinion, that the devil cannot raise winds and storms upon the sea and land. This is evident from the last relation in the letter, which puts me in mind of a terrible tempest in the Firth, that day when Bessie Fowler was burnt at Musselburgh, in May 16. The devil promised to her, that she should not die at that time; whereupon she looking out at the prison window, spake very confidently to the folk below, “You think to see me burnt the day, but you will be deceived.” The hurricane did so prevail, that in effect every body suspected that she should not have died that day. The morning and the forenoon were very calm.

XXXV.—_Anent some Prayers, Charms, and Aves, used in the Highlands._

In the time of ignorance and superstition, when the darkness of Paganism was not dispelled by the gospel-light, spirits kept a more familiar converse with families; and even in the time of Popery, what was more frequent in houses than brownies, whom they employed in many services. It were unreasonable and ridiculous to rehearse all the stories which have been told of Brownies and Fairies, commonly called our good neighbours: how there was a king and queen of fairies, of such a court and train as they had; and how they had the tein and duty, as it were, of all corns, flesh and meal; how they rode, and went along the sides of hills, all in green apparel. I verily believe many have seen such spectres. But what were they? nothing but the delusion of the senses of sundry people, whom the devil made believe they did see and hear such things. Brownie was a spirit that haunted divers houses familiarly, without doing any evil, but doing necessary turns up and down the house, and frequently was found working in the barn, threshing the corn in the night-time, who appeared like a rough hairy man. Such then, was the ignorance of many, that they believed their house was all the sonsier that Brownie was about it, as King James says in his Demonology.—I will not speak of ridiculous friets, such as our meeting with a lucky or unlucky foot, when we are going about important business; these unquestionably are the devil’s lessons for the most part, and denying of God’s providence. The practice of the Heathen was to attribute good or evil luck to the slaying of birds, as Virgil says, “Sæpe sinister cava prædixit ab illice cornix.”—Whether there be any magic in the practice of some young women too curious, who, upon Hallowe’n, go to bed without speaking to any, having first eaten a cake made of soot, and dreaming they see in their sleep the man that shall be their husband, I shall not determine; but it looks like a very bad practice. I heard of a woman who dipped her smock in south-running water, on that night, and hanged it up before the fire to dry. One comes in the likeness of the man who was to be her husband, and turns it, and went immediately to the bed, where she was attending the event, and kissed her. It seems she did not believe it was the devil. To speak of the second sight I cannot, till fuller information be given. I am undoubtedly informed, that men and women in the Highlands can discern fatality approaching others, by seeing them in waters, or with winding sheets about them; and that others can lecture in a sheep’s shoulder-bone a death within the parish seven or eight days before it come. It is not improbable, but that such preternatural knowledge comes first by a compact with the devil, and is derived downward by succession to their posterity; many of which I suppose are innocent, and have this sight against their will and inclination.

Charms and spells have been first taught to men and women in confederacy with the devil, many of which are received by tradition, and used by witches, and ignorant persons too. The virtue of curing must be from the devil’s active invisible application of them to such or such a disease, as the curing of an universal gout by this unintelligible charm.

“Etter sheen etter sack, et ta leur etta pachk, wiper sicaan casemitter in shi, so leish en shi corne, orn heip twa till one eurcht mach a mainshore.”

There is in some part of Galloway a charm for curing a disease called the Ling, in these words, “Catheri, Dumi, Chini, Brini.” Another there is which some use for effectuating that which others do by casting three knots, “far si far, fa sar fay u, far four na forty kay u, mack straik it a pain four hung creig weil mack smeoran bun bagie.” This language cannot be interpreted.—Besides this, there are prayers and aves among the Highlanders, wherein they think there lies great virtue, as in repeating the Lord’s prayer in Latin thus:

“Paidder nuhter kish in sheali sanctishetter noman du, ta renada, ta langa tu, quidi bonum aicht in dearrich, an dingers, an dangis, a nipis a nopis, induraramis indaramis, indittimis indatamis, shechli sheclorum. _Amen._”

Their AVE MARY runs thus:

“Ave Mari crashi plena du na takamis pendicata tus onte willie yeramis, penedicata rucara shendri Esum Christum. _Amen._”

At night, in the time of Popery, when folks went to bed, they believed the repetition of the following prayer was effectual to preserve them from danger, and the house too.

“Who sains the house the night?
They that sains it ilka night:
Saint Bryde and her brate,
Saint Colme and his hat,
Saint Michael and his spear,
Keep this house from the weir;
From running thief;
And burning thief;
And from a’ ill Rea,
That be the gate can gae;
And from an ill wight,
That be the gate can light.
Nine reeds about the house;
Keep it all the night.
What is that, what I see
So red, so bright, beyond the sea?
’Tis he was pierc’d through the hands,
Through the feet, through the throat,
Through the tongue;
Through the liver and the lung.
Well is them that well may
Fast on Good-Friday.”

Another prayer, used by the thieves and robbers on the Borders after meat, in order to stealing from their neighbours.

“He that ordain’d us to be born,
Send us more meat for the morn,
Part of’t right and part of’t wrang:
God let us never fast owre lang.
God be thanked, and our Lady,
All is done that we have ready.”

A country-man in East Lothian used this grace always before and after meat.

“Lord be bless’d for all his gifts,
Defy the devil and all his shifts;
God sent me mair silver. _Amen._”

As the devil is originally the author of charms and spells, so is he the author of several bawdy songs which are sung. A reverend minister told me, that one who was the devil’s piper, a wizzard, confessed to him, that at a ball of dancing, the foul spirit taught him a bawdy song, to sing and play, as it were this night, and ere two days passed, all the lads and lasses of the town were lilting it through the street. It were an abomination to rehearse it.

XXXVI.—_Anent one Lizzie Muidy at Haddington._

This woman was a servant to Margaret Kirkwood there, a woman of good repute once, who before her death, took some trouble of mind, upon what account I shall not determine. She made some insinuation, it seems, to some of her friends, that she inclined to put hand on herself; whereupon she was attended and waited upon; but had her own liberty to retire herself to private prayer; in which exercise she was very frequent. Upon a Sabbath forenoon, when all were at church and she at home, none with her save only a servant-maid, she went into some high room or other, as she was wont to do, to her devotion, and there, before the maid could know, she hanged herself. In this very moment of time, this Elizabeth Muidy, her old servant, being in church, was observed to number upon her fingers fifty, or fifty-one, which number being ended, she cries out, with a loud voice, in presence of all, “Now the turn is done.” She was presently taken away as a distracted person; and news coming to the church, that such a woman had hanged herself, her old mistress, she was taken away to prison; but what her confession was, it is not well known. There are many other things reported, whereof I cannot give an account. This tragedy was acted within these few years at Haddington.

XXXVII.—_Anent Major Weir and his Sister._

This man, Thomas Weir, was born at Clydesdale, near to Lanark, who had been a lieutenant in Ireland long since. What way he came to get some public command in the city of Edinburgh, in the years 1649 and 50, I know not: but it seems he has always been called Major Weir since that time. Many things might be narrated of him, which for brevity’s sake, I cannot meddle with, since I intend only to speak of his sorceries, and other things relating thereunto. It seems he had, before he was burnt, some charge over the waiters at the ports of the city, being, as it were, a check to them. Coming one day, as his custom was, he found some of them in a cellar, taking a cup of ale, neglecting their charge. After a gentle reproof, one of them replied, That some of their number being upon duty, the rest had retired to drink with their old friend Mr. Burn. At which he started back, and casting an eye upon him, repeated the word Burn four or five times: and going home, he never came abroad afterwards, till a few weeks after he had discovered his impieties. It was observed by some, that going to Liberton sometimes, he shunned to step over that water brook, which is ordinarily called Liberton-burn, but went about to shun it. Some have conjectured that he had advice to beware of a burn, or some other thing which this equivocal word might signify, as burn in a fire. If so, he has foreseen his day approaching. A year before he discovered himself, he took a sore sickness; during which time he spake to all who visited him like an angel, and came frequently abroad again.——This man taking some dreadful tortures of conscience, and the terrors of the Almighty being upon his spirit, confessed to several neighbours in his own house, and that most willingly, particular sins which he was guilty of, which bred amazement to all persons, they coming from a man of so high repute for religion and piety. He ended with this remarkable expression, “Before God, (says he) I have not told you the hundred part of what I can say more, and am guilty of.” These very same abominations he confessed before the judges likewise. But after this, he would never, till his dying hour confess any more, which might have been for the glorifying of God, and the edification of others, but remained stupid, having no confidence to look any man in the face, or to open his eyes.—When two of the magistrates came to his house in the night-time to carry him to prison, they asked, If he had any money to secure? He answered none. His sister said there was. Whereupon, to the value of five dollars, in parcels here and there, were found in several clouts. His sister advised the two magistrates to secure his staff especially; for she also went to prison. After he was secured in the tolbooth, the bailies returned, and went into a tavern near to Weir’s house in the West-bow, a street so called there. The money was put into a bag, and the clouts thrown into the fire, by the master of the house and his wife; which, after an unusual manner made a circling and dancing in the fire. There was another clout found with some hard thing it, which they threw into the fire likewise; it being a certain root, which circled and sparkled like gun-powder, and passing from the tunnel of the chimney, it gave a crack like a little cannon, to the amazement of all that were present.—The money aforesaid was taken by one of the bailies to his own house, and laid by in his closet. After family-prayer was ended, he retired into the same closet, (where I have been) during which time his wife, who is yet living, and the rest of the family, were affrighted with a terrible noise within the study, like the falling of a house, about three times together. His wife knocking, gave a fearful cry, “My dear, are you alive?” The bailie came out unafraid, having (as he said) heard nothing; whether he concealed this upon the account his wife was with child, or otherwise, it cannot be well known. The money was presently sent away to another bailie’s house, a great distance from Weir’s; where, as was reported, there was some disturbance, but in broken expressions.

During the time of his imprisonment, he was never willing to be spoken to; and when the ministers of the city offered to pray for him, he would cry out in fury, “Torment me no more, for I am tormented already.” One minister (now asleep) asking him, If he should pray for him? was answered, Not at all. The other replied, in a kind of holy anger, “Sir, I will pray for you in spite of your teeth, and the devil your master too,” who did pray, making him at least to hear him; but the other staring wildly, was senseless as a brute. Another, who is likewise at rest, demanded, if he thought there was a God; said the man, I know not. That other replied smartly, “O man, the argument that moveth me to think there is a God, is thyself; for what else moveth thee to inform the world of thy wicked life?” But Weir answered, Let me alone. When he peremptorily forbade one of his own parish ministers, (yet alive) to pray, one demanded, if he would have any of the presbyterian persuasion to pray, he answered, “Sir, you are all alike to me.” Then said the minister to him, “I will pray with you.” “Do it not,” said the other, “upon your peril;” looking up to the beams of the house. But prayer was offered up so much the more heartily, because the company about expected some vision. It is observable, that in things common he was pertinent enough; but when any thing about Almighty God, and his soul’s condition, came about, he would shrug, and rub his coat and breast, saying to them, “Torment me not before the time.” When he was at the stake to be burnt, the city ministers called to a churchman there looking on, being one of that persuasion whereof Weir was formerly deemed to be, to speak to him; but no sooner had he opened his mouth, than he made a sign with his head to be silent. When the rope was about his neck to prepare him for the fire, he was bid say, Lord be merciful to me; but he answered, “Let me alone, I will not; I have lived as a beast, and I must die as a beast.” The fire being kindled, both he and his staff, a little after, fell into the flames. Whatever incantation was in his staff, is not for me to discuss. He could not officiate in any holy duty, without his rod in his hand, and leaning upon it, which made those who heard him pray, admire his fluency in prayer. Its falling into the fire with him, (let others search out the disparity) minds me of this passage. In Zetland a few years ago, a judge having condemned an old woman and her daughter, called Helen Stewart, for witchcraft, sent them to be burned. The main was so stupid, that she was thought to be possessed. When she had hung some little time on the gibbet, a black pitchy-like ball foamed out of her mouth; and after the fire was kindled, it grew to the bigness of a walnut, and then flew up like squibs into the air, which the judge, yet living, attests. It was taken to be a visible sign, that the devil was gone out of her. I shall not make application of this as to Mr. Weir’s staff.——I know from good hands, that if this man repented of any thing in prison, it was for causing a poor maid to be scourged, who affirmed, she had seen him commit bestiality going to Newmills to a solemn meeting. This poor woman lived about two years after his death, and heard of his fatal end. His incest with his own sister, was first when she was a young maid. The place where this abomination was committed, was cursed; for, contrary to nature, it remained always bare without grass. A reverend minister told me, (I mention this as from myself, not from the author of the letter) that Major Weir confessed so much to him, and told him, that the place lies off the road-way between Kirkcaldy and Kinghorn, upon a little hill-side; which he had the curiosity to go and see, and found it so. This was done the matter of fifty years ago. Many other things he confessed, which Christian ears should not be defiled with.—Before I come to his sister, take this notable remark from two persons yet alive, dwelling at the foot of the West-Bow, at the head whereof dwelt Major Weir. This gentlewoman, a substantial merchant’s wife, was very desirous to hear him pray, much being spoken of his utterance; and for that end spoke to some of her neighbours, that when he came to their house, she might be sent for. This was done, but he could never be persuaded to open his mouth before her; no, not to bless a cup of ale; he either remained mute, or up with his staff and away. It troubled her then; but I suppose both her husband and she smiles at it now.

Some few days before he discovered himself, this gentlewoman coming from the Castle-hill, where her husband’s niece was lying-in of a child, about midnight, perceived, about the Bow-head, three women in windows, shouting, laughing, and clapping their hands. The gentlewoman went forward, till, just at Major Weir’s door, there arose, as from the street, a woman about the length of two ordinary females, and stepped forward. The gentlewoman, not as yet excessively feared, bid her maid step on, if, by the lanthorn, they could see what she was; but haste what they could, this long-legged spectre was still before them, moving her body with a vehement cachinnation, and great unmeasurable laughter. At this rate the two strove for place, till the giantess came to a narrow lane in the Bow, commonly called the stinking-close, into which she turning, and the gentlewoman looking after her, perceived the close full of flaming torches, (she could give them no other name,) and as it had been a great multitude of people, stentoriously laughing and gaping with tehees of laughter. This sight, at so dead a time of the night, no people being in the windows belonging to the close, made her and her servant haste home, declaring all what they saw to the rest of the family; but more passionately to her husband. And though sick with fear, yet she went the next morning with her maid, to view the noted places of her former night’s walk, and at the close inquired who lived there? It was answered, Major Weir. The honest couple now rejoiced, that to Weir’s devotion they never said, Amen. I know there are some, who strenuously assert the unreasonableness of believing such visions and apparitions; but you have made them sufficiently evident from your relation foregoing. These, in all probability, have been a presage of his approaching death, and of the manner of it, links and torches signifying an honourable interment, which perhaps had been promised to him. There was one minister in the city, that could never be persuaded to speak with him in prison; but no sooner was he dead, than he went to the tolbooth, and called for his sister, who had some remorse; of whom I shall now speak. He told her, that her brother was burnt, and how he died, (though he saw him not executed) as I heard from himself. She believed nothing of it; but after many attestations, he asked, where his staff was? for, it seems, she knew that his strength and life lay therein. He told her, it was burnt with him. Whereupon, notwithstanding of her age, she nimbly, and in a furious rage, fell on her knees, uttering words horrible to be remembered. And in rising up, as she was desired, her raging agony closed with these words, “O Sir, I know he is with the devils; for with them he lived.” She entreated that minister to assist her, and attend her to her death, which, at her violent importunity, he yielded unto, though it was not his course to wait upon condemned persons. What she said in private to himself, he says, must die with him. She avouched, that from her being sixteen years of age, to her fiftieth, her brother had the incestuous use of her, and then loathed her for her age. She was pretty old at this time; and he, when he died, was about seventy. He asked her, If ever she was with child to him? She declared, with great confidence, he hindered that by means abominable: which, she beginning to relate, the minister stopped her. Some bystanders were desirous to hear the rest; but says he, “Gentlemen, the speculation of this iniquity is in itself to be punished.”—In often and returned visits, she was interrogated, If she had any hand in her brother’s devilry? She declared but in a passive way; and gave this for an instance: A fiery chariot or coach, as she called it, coming to his door, at broad day, a stranger invied him and her to go and visit a friend in Dalkeith, a small town about six miles from Edinburgh. They both entered, and went forward in their visit; at which time (says she) one came and whispered something in his ear, which affected him. They both returned after the same manner that they had gone out. And Weir going after to make some visits, told them he had strong apprehensions, that that day the King’s forces were routed at Worcester; which, within a few days, was confirmed by post. She affirmed, that none saw the coach but themselves. The devil hath wrought far greater farlies in his time than this.—She knew much of the enchanted staff; for by it he was enabled to pray; to commit filthiness, not to be named; yea even to reconcile neighbours, man and wife, when at variance. She oft hid it from him; and because without it he could do nothing, he would threaten and vow to discover her incest; fearing which, she would deliver it again. Being asked the cause of her much spinning, which she was famous for, she denied any assistance from the devil, but found she had an extraordinary faculty therein, far above ordinary spinsters; yet owned, that when she came home, after her being abroad, she found there was more yarn on her wheel than she left: and that her weaver could not make cloth thereof, the yarn breaking, or falling from the loom.——Once there came a stranger to her, while she was at her wheel, and proposed a way to her to make her rick; for they both lived almost upon alms. The way was this, “Stand up and say, all crosses and cares go out of this house.” She answered, “God forbid, I say that, but let them be welcome when God sends them.” After two or three visits more, she asked this stranger, where she dwelt? She replied, “In the Potterrow,” a street in the suburbs of that city; but finding neither such a house, nor such a woman, I judged, said she, it was the devil, one of my brother’s acquaintance; for I know he had familiarity with the devil.

His poverty minds me of a wizzard accused and execute in Zetland, before named, for witchcraft, several years ago, called Luggy to a nick-name; who being a fisher, had a trick, at any time when hungry at sea, to cast out his line, and would out of Neptune’s lowest kitchen, bring cleverly up fish well boiled and roasted; and his comrades, by a natural courage, would make a merry meal thereof, not questioning who was cook. He had another piece of art, at any time of the year, or in great storms, to go up to a hill near his own house, whereupon there was a deep pit, out of which, with his lines, he drew up codlings or keiling for his provision, which never man could but himself. This history is true, being yet to be seen in the criminal books of that country.—She was asked anent her parents? She was persuaded her mother was a witch; “for the secretest thing that either I myself, or any of the family could do, when once a mark appeared on her brow, she could tell it them, though done at a great distance. Being demanded what sort of a mark it was? She answered, “I have some such like mark myself, when I please, on my forehead.” Whereupon she offered to uncover her head for visible satisfaction; the minister refusing to behold it, and forbidding any discovery, was earnestly requested by some spectators, to allow the freedom. He yielded: She put back her head dress, and seeming to frown, there was seen an exact horse shoe shaped for nails in her wrinkles, terrible enough, I assure you, to the stoutest beholder. In the morning before her execution, she told the minister, she resolved to die with all the shame she could, to expiate, under mercy, her shameful life; this he understood to be an ingenuous confession of her sins in opposition to her brother’s despair and desperate silence, to which he did encourage her. At her parting with him, she gave him hearty thanks for his pains; and shaking his hands, offering to kiss them; she repeated the same words which he bade her perform. Ascending up the ladder, she spoke somewhat confusedly of her sins, of her brother and his enchanting staff; and with a ghastly countenance, beholding a multitude of spectators, all wondering, and some weeping, she spake aloud, “There are many here this day, wondering and greeting for me, but alas! few mourn for a broken——;” at which words, many seemed angry: some called to her to mind higher concerns; and I have heard it said, that the preacher declared, he had much ado to keep a composed countenance. The executioner falling about his duty, she prepares to die stark-naked; then, and not before, were her words relating to shame understood; the hangman struggled with her to keep on her clothes, and she struggled with him to have them off. At last he was forced to throw her over open-faced, which afterwards he covered with a cloth.——So much from the gentleman that gave me this information; to which I shall add, that this is not published with a design to reflect upon men of this or that persuasion, far be it. The devil can counterfeit what religion he pleases, and ordinarily a good one. True religion can never suffer any prejudice from a hypocrite’s wearing a cloak of it, more than the good angels can suffer a stain by Satan’s transforming himself into an angel of light. The devil hath his lackies and pages with Christ’s livery upon them. Was not Judas, who was but one of the twelve, a vile hypocrite? It is a wonder, where there are a thousand professing Christ in a congregation, that a hundred of them are not as bad. His glistering cloak of religion dazzled all men’s eyes; this was needful. Foul faults must have a cloak to cover them. The apostle Jude speaks of some that go after Sarko’s heteras, which may be understood, not only of that sin mentioned, Rom., i. 27. but of another sort of flesh, not to be named. Here was a demonstration, proving evidently that there is a God, viz. by the terrors of his conscience. It is evident also, there is a devil that hurries men on into sin. He had this expression to two ministers that came to see him in prison; there was no temptation which the devil could propose to him, but he was capable to accept of it. It is evident also, there is either an explicit compact between some men and the devil; horrible sins covered with religion bring utter despair at last. Desperation in hell in “fieri.” Some men as well as devils are tormented before the time. Let us not count the less of religion, that it is made a cloak for covering sin; let us beware that such a man’s fall prove not a neck-break to us; let us idolize no man for his profession, or that he is of this or that persuasion, or of such a party: let no man rest in a bare profession of religion. Men in compact with the devil, may be assisted both to preach and pray. The devil’s servants are well rewarded at the last. Profession and practice must go together; a clinking profession, with an unbridled tongue, is a vain religion. “Pure religion, and undefiled before God and the Father, is, to visit the fatherless and the widows in their affliction; and for a man to keep himself unspotted from the world.”

Major Weir was burnt between Edinburgh and Leith, at a place called the Gallowlee, on Thursday the 14th of April 1676.

XXXVIII.—_An Apparition seen in a dwelling-house, in Mary King’s Close, in Edinburgh._

Sir, within these few years, there was one T. C. by profession an agent about the session-house; who about flitting time, was removing his furniture from a lower part of the city to an higher. One in the aforesaid close, seeing his maid on the Saturday carrying some light furniture to such a house, asked her, if she was to dwell in that house? “Yes,” said she; “for I am hired for this half-year.” Her friend told her, “If you live there, I assure you, you will have more company than yourselves.” And after twice or thrice more going up and down, getting several informations anent the business, she was persuaded to tell her mistress, she would not tarry a servant in that house, it being haunted with a spirit or ghost, and gave her the ground of her intelligence.

The mistress informed her husband, desiring him to forbear that house, lest she should be affrighted even with apprehensions; but he, out of a natural courage, and fortitude of mind, smiled at the relation, and resolved to tarry, lodging there that very same night.——To-morrow being the Sabbath-day, they went both to church in the forenoon; but in the afternoon, he being indisposed, fitted himself for a sleep; his wife took the Bible; and at the head of the table near the bed, resolved to spend the time in reading of the Holy Scripture, appointing the servant to go to church, which she did, but came no more to the family.—As the mistress was reading to herself, she chanced to cast her eyes to a little chamber-door just over against her, where she spied the head and face of an old man, grey headed, with a grey beard, looking straight upon her, the distance being very short; at which sight, she endeavouring to awaken her husband, fell in a swoon and fainted, and lay in that posture till she heard some of her neighbours open their doors after sermon was ended; then she told her husband what was done, and what she had seen, the apparition being evanished; he pleaded it was some fancy, or delusion of her senses, and bade her be of good courage.—After supper, both being alone, the goodwife’s fear still continuing, she built on a large fire, and went to bed. After a little time, the goodman cast his eyes towards the chimney, and spied that same old man’s head in the former place. He told his wife, who was like to fall into her former passion. He rising, lighteth a candle, sets it on the table, and went to his bed again, encouraging themselves in the Lord; and recommended themselves to God’s care and protection. After an hour and more was spent thus; they clearly perceived a young child, with a coat upon it, hanging near to the old man’s head. At which sight, the goodman, Tom, flew out of his bed, and his wife after him. He taking her in his arms, kneeled down before the bed, and with fervent devotion, they entreated the Lord to be freed from that temptation. He lighted a second candle, the first being spent, and knocked upon his neighbours; but getting no answer, they both returned to their bed, where they both kneeled down and prayed; an excessive fear and sweat being upon them.—By and by a naked arm appears in the air, from the elbow downward, and the hand stretched out, as when one man is about to salute another. He then skipped out of his bed, and kneeling down, begged help from heaven. The arm had now come within its own length to him, as it were to shake hands with him. Whereupon, he immediately goes to bed again, and at the opening of the curtain, it offered another salutation to him. The man and the wife embracing one another through fear, and still eyeing the naked arm, they prayed the more earnestly. But the cubit offering to touch him, he was in such a consternation and amazement, that he was as one distracted; but taking some courage from God, he boldly spake to it after this manner: “In the name of the living God, and of our Saviour Jesus Christ, tell me why thou troublest my family? To my knowledge, I never wronged any man, by killing or cheating; but hath lived honestly in the world. If thou hast received any wrong, if I can right thee, I will do my utmost for thee; but trouble me no more.” Notwithstanding of this, the arm and hand, came nearer than before, still after a courteous manner, with an offer of acquaintance. They fell to prayer again, both of them being drowned with sweat; and in the mean time, they saw a little dog come out of that little room afore-named; which, after a little time looking about towards the bed and the naked arm, composed itself upon a chair, as it were with its nose in its tail to sleep. This somewhat increased their fear. But quickly after, a cat comes leaping out from the same room, and in the midst of the hall, began to play some little tricks. Then was the hall full of small little creatures dancing prettily; unto which none of them could give a name, as having never in nature seen the like.

It is not possible to narrate the height of passion and fear these two were under, having all the apparitions at once in their eye, which continued a long time. The honest couple went to their knees again within the bed; there being no standing in the floor of the room. In the time of prayer, their ears were started with a deep, dreadful, and loud groan, as of a strong man dying; at which, all the apparitions and visions at once evanished; and, as the honest couple thought, they retired to the little room from whence they came, and the house was quiet.—After this, they both went hand in hand to the little room where the drink stood, and refreshed themselves therewith. After they had taken a second draught, the husband said, “My dear, God hath made me this night to bear that which would have frighted to death the stoutest of them all.” The day approaching, they dressed themselves, and made no secret of it. But looking back upon what happened, they wondered, that none of them had wit to open the door, and to flee from the house, which had been easier done than to light the first candle. But they behoved to undergo this trial, having no power to escape it. And by this means, the goodman had the courage to dwell in the house after till he died; yet would never want some good fellows or others with him, concluding the worst was over; as indeed it was.—A few weeks after, he, on a Sabbath day, went with his wife to Corstorphine, a village two miles from Edinburgh, to hear sermon. In the evening, he took some refreshment there at a public inn; and stepping to the door to ease nature, he was instantly surprized with a vehement shivering and trembling in all his joints. Coming from the end of the aforesaid village, with a purpose to come home, he was accompanied with some crows flying above him, almost keeping pace with him, till he came to Portsburgh, a part of the suburbs of the city, where they left him, and returned to their own lodging. “These crows, my dear (says he) do prognosticate, that I must die shortly.” He fell sick of a pain in his head, with an excessive aking. But before I go further on this narration, I must make a visit to the country.—A gentleman near Tranent, or in it, a town about seven miles from Edinburgh, whose agent this man was, in managing his law-affairs, and keeped his papers for that effect, had a singular kindness for Thomas, as he had for him. This gentleman being in bed one morning with his wife, his nurse and a child lying in a truckle-bed near them, the nurse was affrighted with something like a cloud moving up and down the room; but not shaped as such. She called to her master and his wife, and awakened them. He seeing the cloud figured like a man, nimbly skipped over the bed, and drew his sword; and going to bed again, laid it by his side, and recommended the family to God. For a time it continued in the forementioned dark form; but, anon, they all saw perfectly the body of a man walking up and down. The gentleman behaved himself more like a Christian than a combatant. At last, this apparition looked him fully and perfectly in the face, and stood by him with a ghostly and pale countenance; at which the gentleman with great courage, said to the spectre, “What art thou? Art thou my dear friend Thomas Coltheart?” (For so was the agent called.) “Art thou dead, my friend? Tell me if thou hast any commission to me from Almighty God, tell it me, and it shall be welcome.” The ghost held up its hand three times, waving and shaking it towards him, and immediately disappeared. This was done about the very hour (as was guessed) of the agent’s death.

The Sunday after his death, among many accompanying his corpse to the common burial place, some of the town ministers were there, and by chance a friend of his thanked one of them for his attendance; and said, “Sir, it was a pity that some of you saw him not before he died.” The minister asked him, “If any remarkable thing was the cause of his sickness” So much was told, as gave the minister ground to make a visit to his widow; who made him very welcome with tears in her eyes. After she had composed herself, he prayed. Prayer being ended, she began the before related story, and told it from the beginning. But when she came to the dog’s part, she telling him, that he was just now sitting upon the chair where the dog lay sleeping, the minister rises up, and taking the mistress by the hand, “Come, (said he) I have seen his chair; in the name of Almighty God, I will see his chamber too;” and so went in to see the little room from which the apparition came, and to which they returned; in which room she gave the minister an account of what followed the dog. In the mean time a gentleman came in, whom she knew by his voice, and running to him with great fervour, they embraced one another affectionately with tears. To make an end, this stranger was the gentleman to whom the ghost of the deceased husband appeared about Tranent, the very hour when he was expiring at Edinburgh. He told likewise, that that morning the ghost appeared to him, he was resolved to attend the Duke of Lauderdale from Lithingtown to Edinburgh; but this apparition discomposing his wife, he could not. But With his first conveniency (he told her) he had come in to see her, and get an account of his being touched with what he saw at his house.

These things coming to the Duke of Lauderdale’s ears, as remarkable stories, he called for that minister, and had the same account of the particulars, before many of the nobility, narrated to him.

XXXIX.—_An Apparition of a deceased Wife to her Husband, at Edinburgh._

Sir, that which I narrated to you the other day, I have now sent it under my hand, as a thing very certain and sure. I knew a servant-maid, that served a gentlewoman in the old Provost’s Close, as they call it, who was married to a butcher called John Ritchie, about twelve years ago. She lived about five years with him, and had four children to him, and then died. Within a few days after her burial, he went in suit of a young woman, courting her for marriage. He had a comrade of the same trade, to whom he revealed his intention, and desired him to meet him at such a house, near to the court of guard, down some close or other, that he might see his new mistress. The appointment was keeped. The two lovers sat down together on a bed-side, and the comrade sat opposite to them, there being a table between them, and a window or shot at the head of the room, that gave them light; the close or wynd was narrow to which they had a sight. And while they two are dallying together in the bed, the other smiling at them; behold, while this man is casting his eye about the room, he perceived distinctly the body and face of the dead wife, in her clothes, looking towards them from an opposite window; at which this man, his comrade, rose up affrighted, saying to the other, “John, what’s that?” Whereupon all stood up looking, and saw perfectly the buried woman lifting up her hands (as appeared) to take the dead-dress from her head, but could not reach it. The man threw the woman out of his arms, with a purpose to be gone quickly; but his comrade vowed he would not stir till he got something to comfort his heart: they got a little brandy, and then went away; not without wondering and fear. Upon this, the man took sickness for three or four days; and his comrade coming to give him a visit, counselled him to delay, or wholly to desist from that purpose of marriage; but affection would not suffer him to forbear; and, though not fully recovered of his frenzy, he made a new address to his mistress; but, while he is putting on his shoes, his dead wife appears again in her ordinary habit; and crossing the room in his sight, says, “John, will you not come to me?” and with that evanished. Up on this, he took sickness again, and called for his comrade, and told him of this second apparition, who most freely entreated him to desist, or at least to delay. His sickness increasing, he died. About which time, he spoke of a third visit his wife gave him, blaming him as if he had too soon forgotten her, but did not tell it distinctly; and therefore his comrade could not be positive in it. He was buried within a month of his wife’s decease.—One of the ministers of Edinburgh, who had been acquaint in the house where she served, hearing some whisper of the apparition, sent a servant secretly to call for the man’s comrade, who gave him a just and true narration of all that I have written; adding, that having seen the vision first, some told him he would quickly die, but he is yet living in the town, a flesher; the minister having married him to two wives since. The deceased wife’s name was Helen Brown. I intended to have published another relation anent the devil’s coming in the night-time, and knocking three several times at such a man’s door; but I was desired to forbear.