Before finishing with this lady, I must give another portion of her most extraordinary confession. ‘Moreover she confessed, that, at the time when his Majestie was in Denmarke, shee being accompanied by the parties before speciallie named, took a cat, and christened it, and afterwards bounde to each part of that cat, the cheefest part of a dead man, and severall joyntis of his bodie: And that, in the night following, the saide cat was convayed into the middest of the sea by all these witches, sayling in their riddles or cives, and so left the saide cat right before the towne of Leith in Scotland. This doone, there did arise such a tempest in the sea, as a greater hath not beene seene.’
This was the way they baptized the cat: ‘In the wobstaris65 hous, in maner following: Fyrst, twa of thame held ane fingar,66 in the ane syd of the chimnay cruik, and ane uther held ane uther fingar in the uther syd, the twa nebbis67 of the fingaris meeting togidder; than thay patt the catt thryis throw the linkis of the cruik, and passit itt thryis under the chimnay.’
The confession of Issobell Gowdie, May 3, 1662, although it is somewhat mutilated, gives us a good insight into the manners and customs of Scotch witches:
‘Efter that tym ther vold meit bot sometymes a Coven, somtymes mor, somtymes les; bot a Grand Meitting vold be about the end of ilk Quarter. Ther is threttein persones in ilk Coven; and ilk on of us has a Spirit to wait wpon us, quhan ve pleas to call wpon him. I remember not all the Spritis names; bot thair is on called Swein, quhilk waitis wpon the said Margaret Wilson in Aulderne; he is still68 clothed in grass grein; and the said Margret Wilson hes an niknam called Pikle neirest the Wind. The nixt Sprit is called Rorie who waitis wpon Bessie Wilsone, in Aulderne; he is still clothed in yallow; and hir nikname is Throw the Corne yaird. The third Sprit is called The Roring Lyon, who waitis wpon Issobell Nicoll in Locklow; and [he is still clothed] in sea grein; her niknam is Bessie Rule. The fowrth Sprit is called Mak Hector, qwho waitis wpon Jean Martein, dawghter to the said Margaret Wilson; he is a yowng-lik Devill, clothed still in grass [green. Jean Martein is] Maiden to the Coven that I am of; and hir nikname is Over the Dyke with it, becaws the Divill [alwayis takis the] Maiden in his hand nix him, quhan ve daunce Gillatrypes, and quhan he vold lowp from ...69 he and she will say, “Ower the dyk with it.” The name of the fyft Sprit is Robert the [Rule and he is still clothed in] sadd dun, and seimis to be a Comander of the rest of the Spiritis; and he waittis wpon Margret Brodie, in Aulderne. [The name of the saxt Spirit] is called Thieff of Hell wait upon hir selfe, and he waitis also on the said Bessie Wilson. The name of the sevinth [Sprit is called] The Read Reiver, and he is my owin Spirit, that waittis on my selfe, and is still clothed in blak. The aught Spirit [is called] Robert the Jackis, still clothed in dune, and seimes to be aiged. He is ane glaiked gowked Spirit! The woman’s [nikname] that he waitis on, is Able and Stowt! The nynth Spirit is called Laing, and the womans nikname that he vaitis wpon is Bessie Bauld. The Tenth Spirit is named Thomas a Fearie, &c.—Ther wil be many uther Divellis, waiting wpon [our] Maister Divell; bot he is bigger and mor awfull than the rest of the Divellis, and they all reverence him. I will ken them all, on by on, from utheris, quhan they appeir lyk a man.
‘Quhan we rease the wind, we tak a rag of cloth, and weitts70 it in water; and we take a beetle71 and knokis the rage on a stone, and we say thryse ower:
‘“I knok this ragg wpon this stane, To raise the wind, in the Divellis name; It sall not lye,72 untill I please againe!”
‘[Whan] we wold lay the wind, we dry the ragg, and say [thryse ower]:
‘“We lay the wind in the Divellis name, [It sall not] ryse quhill we lyk to rease it again!”
‘And if the wind will not lye instantlie [after we say this] we call wpon owr Spirit, and say to him:
‘“Thieffe! Thieffe! conjure the wind, and caws it to [lye ...]”
‘We haw no power of rain, bot ve will rease the wind quhan ve pleas.—He maid us beliew [...] that ther wes no God besyd him.
‘As for Elf-arrow-heidis, the Diuell shapes them with his awin hand, and syne deliueris thame to Elf-boyes, who whyttis and dightis73 them with a sharp thing lyk a paking neidle; bot [quhan I was in Elfland?] I saw them whytting and dighting them. Quhan I wes in the Elfes howssis, they will haw werie ... them whytting and dighting: and the Diwell giwes them to ws, each of ws so many, quhen.... Thes that dightis thaim ar litle ones, holow, and boss baked!74 They speak gowstie75 lyk. Quhen the Divell giwes them to ws, he sayes:
‘“Shoot thes in my name,
And they sall not goe heall hame!”
‘And quhan we shoot these arrowes we say:
‘“I shoot yon man in the Divellis name, He sall not win heall hame! And this sal be alswa trw; Thair sall not be an bit of him on lieiw.”76
‘We haw no bow to shoot with, but spang77 them from the naillis of our thowmbes. Som tymes we will misse, bot if thay twitch78 be it beast, or man, or woman, it will kill, tho’ they haid an jack79 wpon them. Qwhen we goe in the shape of an haire, we say thryse owr:
‘“I sall goe intill ane haire,
With sorrow, and sych, and meikle caire;
And I sall goe in the Divellis nam, Ay whill I com hom [againe]!”
‘And instantlie we start in an hair, And when we wold be owt of that shape, we vill say:
‘“Haire [haire, God send the caire!]
I am in an hairis liknes just now,
But I sal be in a womanis liknes ewin [now]!”
‘When we vold goe in the liknes of an Cat, we say thryse ower:
‘“I sall go [intill ane catt,]
[With sorrow, and sych, and a blak] shot!
And I sall goe in the Divellis nam, Ay quhill I com hom again!”
‘And if ve [wold goe in ane Craw,80 then] we say thryse ower:
‘“I sall goe intill a craw,
With sorrow and sych, and a blak [thraw!
And I sall goe in the Divellis nam,] Ay quhill I com hom again!”
