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Safeguards from
Witchcraft
As witchcraft is in itself by far
the greatest calamity the Highlander is subject to, so Providence, in its
wise economy, has afforded him the amplest means of guarding against its
effects. And if a radical remedy has not yet been discovered for the evil
in all its bearings, it is only because mankind have not been equally
solicitous for the discovery of it, Adverse to a murmuring discontented
spirit, the Highlander is satisfied with the removal of a share of his
grievances. Having obtained a knowledge of a certain remedy for those
practices of the craft which weigh most heavily on his temporal interests,
he is not so presumptuous as to suppose, that Providence is so partial in
its favours, as to grant him a remedy for those that affect his immortal
interests also. Satisfied with the benefit he enjoys, he is not clamorous
for an extension of them, leaving the concerns of another world for a
season of more convenience and leisure.
As a sovereign protection for goods and chattels of
every description from the machination of those despicable agents, the
rowan cross, of invaluable excellence, has never been known to
prove ineffectual. Its salutary influence on every species of supernatural
agents is well known and there are none to whom the smell of the rowan is
more obnoxious than the " Ban Buchichd." As a proof of its efficacy, we
can produce no better authority than the
following affecting story:
"There is, in the vicinity of Forres, an old decayed
edifice, called ‘Castle Boorgie,’ in which once lived a rich Laird,
who had a beautiful daughter. Seemingly possessed of every engaging
accomplishment, and apparently endowed with the most amiable disposition,
she was the darling of her aged father,
whose hopes and joys were wholly centered in her. One spring morning, as
her father and herself were surveying the delightful prospects which the
castle commanded, the immense number of ploughs at work within the compass
of their vision happened to attract their attention. ‘Father,’ says this
ill-fated, unconscious child, ‘do we not behold a vast number of ploughs
in the widely-extended district now in our view?‘—‘
Yes, my love, we do,’ replied the
father, ‘and it is a pleasant thing to look at them.’—’ What reward will
you give me,’ added she, ‘if, by a single word, I
shall cause them all stand as immoveable as if the cattle
were transformed into stones?‘—‘
On that condition,’ replied the astonished father, ‘the most superb
and costly gown in the town of Forres shall be yours.’~’ It is done,’ says
the daughter. Raising her hand, she muttered an unintelligible sound, and,
lo! all the ploughs in the district, with the exception of a single one,
stood stock still and immoveable.—’ Indeeed!‘ exclaims her father, ‘you
are a rare conjuror, my dear ;
but how is that plough in the adjacent park exempted from the magical
effect of your powerful charm?‘—‘The cause I can easily guess,’ says she;
‘there is, in one of the oxen’s bows, a pin of the rowan tree, the
virtue of which defeats all attempts at preternatural fascination.’. ’Aye,
aye,’ says he, ‘all those things are wonderfully pretty; pray who taught
them to you?’—’ My old nurse taught me those fine things, and am not I
greatly obliged to her, Sir ?‘-.--‘ You are, undoubtedly; he replies, ‘and
she shall soon have her reward. Oh! my dear, my only child—support and
comfort of my aged head, would to God you had never been born.’
"Summoning immediately a council of
his friends, the broken-hearted parent revealed to them the whole
circumstance; and craved their opinion as to the measures that should be
adopted in this deeply to be deplored case. After due consultation, the
council gave it as their decided opinion, that, concluding that she was
irrecoverably lost to all good in this world, the extension of her life
would be only productive of eternal disgrace and infamy to her friends,
while her spiritual interests would every day be destroyed by accumulating
guilt. Therefore, that her life should be instantly terminated by a
private death; and that the old hag, the author of her ruin, should be
publicly burned under every ignominious circumstance. To this hard
decision the agonised father was persuaded to assent; and a, doctor was
immediately dispatched for to Forres, to point out the easiest mode of
taking her life. Bleeding the temporal arteries was the mode of death
agreed on, and the poor innocent victim of the old hag’s depravity was
introduced into a private apartment, in order to undergo the awful
operation. On entering the apartment, her unhappy father burst out into a
flood of tears. Observing his distress, his affectionate little daughter
also fell a crying. ‘What is the matter with you, my dear father?’ says
she. ‘Have you received any bad news? Oh! tell me what is the matter with
you, that I may share your sorrows and dry your tears. Fearing that the
father’s courage might naturally fail him under so signal a trial, the
friends present instantly seized the astonished dear girl, bound her hand
and foot, and placed her in a vat, and the surgeon inflicted on her two
brows, fair and beautiful as those of an angel, the fatal wounds. As the
blood flowed, the poor aifrighted victim perpetually exclaimed, ‘Do not
kill me, do not kill me; what have I done to offend my dearest father? I
am sure I did no harm. For the sake of my dear mother, who is no more, and
for whose sake you loved me so well, do not let them kill me, my dear
father.’ The unhappy father sunk senseless on the floor, and his expiring
child soon closed her eye on this world, sighing, with her last breath, ‘
My dearest father, do not kill me.’
" The old hag was
then brought out to the lawn in front of the castle, and thrown into
a huge furnace of tar and other combustibles,
amidst the general execration of the assembled multitude. And it is said,
that while the witch was burning, every crack she gave was as loud as the
report of a war cannon."
When, by the neglect of the
prescribed safe guards, the seeds of iniquity have taken root, and a
person’s means are decaying in consequence, the only alternative, in this
case, is to resort to that grand remedy, the "
Tein Econuch" or"
Forlorn Fire," which seldom fails of being productive of the best
effects. The cure for witchcraft, called " Tein Econuch" ‘is
wrought in the following manner:
A consultation being held by the
unhappy sufferer and his friends as to the most advisable measures of
effecting a cure, if this process is adopted, notice is privately
communicated to all those householders who reside within the nearest two
running streams, to extinguish their lights and fires on some appointed
morning. On its being ascertained that this notice has been duly observed,
a spinning-wheel, or some other convenient instrument, calculated to
produce fire by friction, is set to work with the most furious earnestness
by the unfortunate sufferer, and all who wish well to his cause. Relieving
each other by turns, they drive on with such persevering diligence, that
at length the spindle of the wheel, ignited by excessive friction,
emits "Forlorn Fire" in
abundance, which, by the application of tow, or some other combustible
material, is widely extended over the whole neighbourhood. Communicating
the fire to the tow, the tow communicates it to a candle,
the candle to a fir-torch, the torch to a cartful of
peats, which the master of the ceremonies, with pious ejaculations for the
success of the experiment, distributes to messengers, who will proceed
with portions of it to the different houses within the said two running
streams, to kindle the different fires. By the influence of this
operation, the machinations and spells of witchcraft "are rendered null
and void," and, in the language of Scots law, "of no avail, force,
strength, or effect, with all that has followed, or may follow thereupon."
But should the evil prove so
obstinate and deep-rooted, as to triumph over this most comonly
efficacious remedy, the dernier resort is an application to that arch
enemy of Satan, Mr Grigor Willox Macgrigor, Emperor of all the Conjurors.
The name of this gentleman is well
known to the inhabitants of the northern counties of Scotland, as the
happy proprietor of that invaluable and wonderful relic, which the vulgar
are sometimes pleased to denominate "Clach
Ghrigair Willock," alias "aach Ban na
Buchuchd," but which, in our opinion, deserves a far more dignified,
if not a more appropriate appellation. We humbly submit it should be
called the Philosopher’s Stone, not so much out of compliment to
its learned and elegant proprietor, although, by the bye, he is
wonderfully philosophic, as out of pure justice to the stone
itself, for it certainly is the best substitute for the grand object of
the chemist’s research, that has hitherto been discovered. If the
philosopher’s stone will convert metal into gold, the "warlock’s stone"
will convert water into Silver by a process perhaps more
round-about, but equally certain.
The history of such a precious
curiosity as this would, no doubt, prove highly interesting to the
"curious reader ;" and the writer has
to blame the shortness of his memory for not gratifying
him to the utmost of his wish, Mr Willox having more than once personally
favoured him with a very eloquent account of it. Suffice it to say, that
this stone was originally extorted by a very ancient ancestor of Mr
Willox from an amorous slut of a mermaid, who,
unfortunately for her, happened to take a fancy to him, and no wonder,
too, if he possessed in anydegree the personal attractions of his lineal
posterity. It happened, then, that this silly fool, of mermaid once
thought it proper to throw herself in this gentleman’s way, expecting, no
doubt, very different treatment from that which she experienced,—when her
unnatural sweetheart, in. stead of offering her any endearments, most
ungraciously chained her to a post, until she redeemed her liberty by this
precious ransom. This was, no doubt, long, long ago, nobody knows how
long, and the stone has necessarily seen many
revolutions of times, and masters in the course of its day. It graced for
a long time the warlike standard of the brave clan Gregor, combining, as
the upholsterer says, "great
ornament with much utility;"
for, while it served to set off not a little those splendid
banners, it invariably secured their followers victory over their
contending foes. It afterwards returned to the Willox family, with whom it
has continued to the present day. It could not descend to a race of
gentlemen who could do greater justice to its excellent qualities, and
certainly the fault cannot be traced to the present proprietor, if, during
his liferent use of it, the stone has lost an iota of its former
celebrity.
Whatever might have been the ornamental qualities of
this wonderful stone
in the days of yore, it has now no great ornaments to boast
of. It is a plain-looking article, strongly resembling the knob or bottom
of a crystal bottle; and were it not that Mr Willox solemnly assured us of
his having been told by the great Lord Henderland
himself, it must have at one time composed one of the Pleiades, we should
have had much difficulty in believing it to consist of any other
substance; but who could resist such respectable authority? Although Mr
Willox informed us that a single collision with the ground would instantly
divest it of all its wonderful virtues, the stone certainly bears
exfacie marks of rough usage, and even such inauspicious accidents as
coming into contact with the ground, or perhaps harder materials, in its
time. However, the stone itself
will tell no secrets, and on the subject of accidents of this sort, it is
the proprietor's interest to be equally mute.
But whatever may be the nature and qualities of this
stone, its virtues are sufficiently notorious. A single immersion of it
into a hogs head of water, instantaneously communicates to it such
inconceivable virtue, that one drop of it is sufficient to cure the most
desperate case of witchcraft in the land. Nor do the prevention and cure
of witchcraft alone constitute the stone’s sole line of business;—for a
valuable reward, there is no secret nor calamity natural to that or beast
in all this wide world, but it will reveal or prevent - Exernpli gratia,
Should some miserable vagabond of a thief, residing within the pale of
Mr Willox’s celebrity, be so fool-hardy as to lay his dishonest hands upon
the goods or chattels of a neighbour, recovery of the goods, or at least
an exposure of the thief, is the absolute consequence. The loser of the
goods looks about him for his purse, and immediately proceeds to consult
the GRAND ORACLE, Mr Grigor Willox, as to the person who had the
effrontery to steal his goods. Mr Willox, willing to afford every
information on reasonable terms, instantly produces the black stocking
containing the stone, a single dip of which clearly developes the whole
circumstance. After a long consultation, involving some inquiries as to
suspected characters, the lynx-eyed Mr Willox easily recognizes some
figures reflected on the vessel containing the water by the stone,
conveying an exact representation of, some old hag not very reputable for
her habits, residing in the complainant’s neighbourhood; and thus all
doubt is removed as to his suspicions being too well founded.
It is no subject for wonder, then, that this Great
Oracle should be so highly prized and suitably encouraged. With
commendable regard to the good of his beloved countrymen, Mr Willox is in
the habit of occasionally making a tour of pleasure through the countiea
of Inverness, Ross, and Caithness, whence, after some weeks absence, he
returns home, with the double satisfaction of thinking, that, while he
has, in the course of his rambles, conferred the greatest benefit on
suffering humanity, he has, at the same time, a good deal improved his own
pecuniary resources. Those occasional peregrinations of this gentleman are
now become absolutely necessary. Funds are not only very low in these bad
times, but Mr Willox is convinced more and more, every day he rises, of
the truth of that proverb, "A prophet has no honour in his own country;"
and he therefore finds it no less his interest, than his duty, to
take a trip, as occasion suggests, to see his friends in the Duigh Tua.
For the most part, however, he resides at his seat of Gaulrig in
Stratbavon, (usually called Strathdown,) where, like the late Doctor
Samuel Solomon, inventor and proprietor of that renovating cordial the
Balm of Gilead, he may be consulted, either personally or by letter post
paid, on payment of the usual compliment of a pound note. Accordingly,
there are pilgrimages made to Gaulrig as well as to Gilead House. It is no
rare matter for the inhabitants of both sides of the Avon to fall in with
unfortunate pilgrims, whose longitude of face and decrepitude of limbs
indicate the extent of their misfortunes and the length of their journey,
inquiring the way for Taigh Maishter Willack. |
