1652
Regarding a man accused of witchcraft, it is mentioned a few days later by
the same newspaper, that he first confessed a number of ridiculous things,
including frequent converse with the devil, but before the judges he
denied all, and said that he had only been in a dream. ‘The truth
is, he lived in so poor a condition, that he
confessed or rather said anything that was put into his head.
. . . By this you may guess upon
what grounds many hundreds have heretofore been burnt in this country for
witches.’ A most pregnant remark, truly.
Whitelocke intimates letters from
Scotland at this time, stating that sixty persons, men and women, had been
accused of witchcraft before the commissioners for the administration of
justice in Scotland at the last circuit; but ‘they found so much malice
and so little proof against them, that none were condemned."
The Scottish civil bench having not
long been free from an evil reputation for budds or bribes, and to
the last liable to the charge of partiality, it is alleged that the
English judges rather surprised the public by their equitable decisions.
It is added that some one, in a subsequent age, was lauding to the
Lord-president Gilmour, the remarkable impartiality of these judges and
the general equity of their proceedings, when the Scottish judge answered
in his rough way: ‘Deil thank them, they had neither kith nor kin !‘
1653, Feb 11
A person who was ‘both man and woman, a thing not ordinar in this
kingdom,’ was hanged at Edinburgh on account of some irregularities of
conduct. ‘His custom was always to go in a woman’s habit.’—Lam.
This person passed by the name of Margaret Rannie. ‘When opened by certain
doctors and apothecaries, [he] was found to be two every way, having two
hearts, two livers, two every inward thing ‘—C. P. H. The same day,
an old man was burnt for warlockry, ‘wha had come in and rendered himself
to prison, confessing his sin, and willing that justice be execute on him,
for safety of his saul.’—Nic.
June
Early in this month, a number of pellochs or
porpoises were thrown ashore dead on the coast of Fife; ‘whilk was taken
to be very ominous.’—Nic.
July 20
The humiliation of the ecclesiastical system of Scotland, lately so
triumphant, was this day completed by the breaking up of the General
Assembly at the order of Cromwell. The court had met in Edinburgh, and the
moderator, Mr David Dickson, had prayed and begun to call the roll, when
‘there comes in two lieutenant-colonels of the English forces, and desired
them to be silent, for they had something to speak to them. So one of the
lieutenant-colonels [Cotterell] began to ask them by what authority they
met—if by authority of the late parliament, or by authority of the
commander-in-chief, or if by the authority of their late king? [Mr David
Dickson, the moderator of the former assembly, ‘said to him: "Sir, you ask
by what authority we sit here; we sit, not as having authority from any
power on earth, but as having power and authority from Jesus Christ; and
by him, and for him, and for the good of his church, do we sit." Cotterell
answered: "You are to sit no more;" whereby he declared himself, and them
that employed him, enemies to Christ.’—C. P. H.].
. . .
He desired further, that all the names of the members
of the assembly might be given him. The moderator replied that they could
not give them, because they were not called; but if he would have a little
patience till they called the roll, he should have them. He answered, if
it were not longsome, he should do it. So the moderator began at the
presbytery of Argyle, to examine their commission. Here the English
officer replied that that would prove tedious, so that he could not wait
upon it, but desired them to remove and begone; and if they would not, he
had instructions what to do. [‘He would drag us out of the room.’—Bail.]
Upon this the moderator protested, in the name of the assembly, that
they were Christ’s court, and that any violence or injury done to them
might not hinder any meeting of theirs when convenient occasion should
offer itself. He desired they might pray a little before they dissolved.
The moderator began prayer; and after he had spoken five or six sentences,
the English officer desired them again to be gone. Notwithstanding, the
moderator went on in prayer, but was forced at length to break off. So
they arose and came forth. [‘When we had entered a protestation of this
unexampled violence, we did rise and follow him; he led us through the
streets a mile out of town, encompassing us with foot-companies of
musketeers and horsemen without; all the people gazing and mourning as at
the saddest spectacle they had ever seen.’—.Bail.] They were
guarded on both hands up the way to the Weigh-house, where they were
carried along to the Port, and thence to the Quarry Holes [Bruntsfield
Links], where they made them to stand. The English required again all
their names; they said they were most willing. So they told all their
names. So the moderator protested again at that place. After their names
were written, they discharged them to meet again, under the pain of being
breakers of the peace The English desired them to go back to Edinburgh and
lodge there all night, and be gone before eight o’clock next day; and
discharged that not above two of them should be seen together.’—Nic.
‘The day following, by sound of
trumpet, we were commanded off the town, under pain of present
imprisonment. Thus our General Assembly, the glory and strength of our
church, is crushed and trod under foot. Our hearts are sad, our eyes run
down with water, we sigh to God against whom we have sinned, and wait for
the help of his hand.’—Bail.
The suppression of the supreme
church-court was followed (August 4) by a proclamation at Edinburgh,
‘discharging the ministry to pray for the king, or to preach anything
against the title of England to Scotland. Mr Robert Laws, in his prayer,
prayed for the king. When he came from the pulpit, he was carried to the
Castle, but stayed short while, because an Englishman would be caution
that he should answer whenever he should be called. Notwithstanding, the
ministry, finding it a duty lying on them by the Covenants, continued all
of them praying for the king, and gave their reasons for it to the English
commissioners.’—C. P. H.
Sep
The heat of the summer 1652, and the earliness of the harvest, had not
been attended with such plenty as to produce extraordinary cheapness.
During this summer of 1653, wheat was £1, 5s. sterling per boll, and the
inferior grains about 20s. An excellent crop having been secured, ‘the
prices fell strangely, so that from Michaelmas till the end of the year,
oats were at [6s. 8d.] per boll, and wheat [11s. 8d. and 13s. 4d.].’—Lam.
The Trembling Exies—that is,
ague—was this year ‘exceeding frequent through all parts of this nation,
in such condition as was never seen before . . . . the smallpox also,
whereof many people, both old and young, perished.’—Nic.
Dec
The gallant resistance made to the English by the loyal forces under Lord
Kenmure, in the north of Scotland, was heard of with much interest by
Charles II. and his little court at Paris. Amongst other adherents of
royalty assembled there, was a Welsh gentleman of about twenty-three years
of age, styled Captain Wogan, who, entering in mere boyhood into the
service of the parliament under General Ireton, had been converted by the
king’s death, and since distinguished himself in the loyal movements made
in Ireland under the Marquis of Ormond. Wogan was one of those ardent
spirits whom Montrose would have been delighted to associate in his
enterprises. He now planned an expedition of a most extraordinary nature.
He proposed nothing less than to march, with such as would join him,
through the length of England and Lowland Scotland, in order to take part
in the guerrilla war going on in the Highlands. Clarendon tells how
reluctant the young king was to sanction so mad an undertaking; but at
length he was induced to give it his countenance.
Captain Wogan accordingly landed
with a few companions at Dover, and, proceeding to London, there went
about engaging associates and making needful preparations, without
attracting the notice of the republican government. The men and horses
being rendezvoused at Barnet, Wogan commenced his march for the north with
an armed troop, which passed everywhere as if it were a part of the
regular army. By easy journeys, but keeping as much as possible out of
common roads, they reached Durham, and thence advanced into Scotland by
Peebles. It appears that one of their first adventures in Scotland was to
pass through a fair in open day. Monk, hearing on a Sunday of their having
been on the preceding night at Peebles, caused parties from Linlithgow,
Stirling, and Glasgow to keep a look-out; but the people of the country
did not help the English soldiery with intelligence, and this net was
spread in vain. Wogan succeeded in conducting his troop in perfect safety
into the Highlands.
This gallant little party met a
cordial reception, and immediately entered with the greatest activity into
the war of skirmishes and surprises which was then going on. The chief of
the Camerons, the gallant Evan Dhu, hailed in Wogan a kindred spirit, and
joined in some of his enterprises. No garrison within many miles of the
Highland frontier was secure from their inroads. Their united names became
a terror to the English. But one winter month of Highland campaigning
formed the entire career of Wogan. A lieutenant’s party of the veteran
regiment known as the Brazen Wall, left the garrison at Drummond
one day, to recover some sheep which had been carried away by the
Highlanders. It became enclosed unawares in a superior force of the enemy,
of which Wogan and his troop formed part. The Brazen Walls got off with a
severe loss; but Wogan had received a wound in the shoulder from a tuck.
It was such an affair as a good surgeon and a week of quiet might have
healed—the circumstances of the poor youth made it mortal in a few days,
to the great grief of all who knew him. He was buried with military
honours, and amidst the greatest demonstrations of Highland sorrow, in the
churchyard of Kenmore (about February 1, 1654). ‘Great indignation was
there,’ says Heath, ‘against Robinson, the surgeon that dressed him, for
his neglect of him, the Earl of Athole having threatened to kill him; so
dearly was this hero beloved by that nation.’ The hope of this English
author ‘that some grateful muse should sing his achievements,’ has not as
yet been realised; but the readers of Waverley will remember how
the author represents his hero as gloating over Flora M’Ivor’s verses
To an Oak-tree said to mark the Grave of
Captain Wogan:
‘Emblem of England’s ancient faith,
Full proudly may thy branches wave,
Where loyalty lies low in death,
And valour fills a timeless grave.
* * *
Thy death-hour heard no kindred wail,
No holy knell thy requiem rung,
Thy mourners were the plaided Gael,
Thy dirge the clamorous pibroch sung.
Yet who, in Fortune’s summer tide,
To waste life’s longest term away,
Would change that glorious dawn of thine,
Though darkened ere its noontide day?’
1654, Mar
From October by-past to this date, the weather was dry and fair to such a
degree as to make the period like a second summer. Nicoll states that, in
all that time, there had not been above six showers of wet or snow, and
two of these fell on Sundays. [Wogan lay at Weem during his illness, and
might therefore have been expected to lie interred in the churchyard of
that parish; but Heath gives Kenmore as his last resting-place.]
May 4
General Monk coming down to Edinburgh to take command of the forces
against Glencairn and Kenmure, and to proclaim Oliver’s union of Scotland
and England, had a most honourable reception. ‘The provost and bailies in
their scarlet gowns met him at the Nether Bow Port, the haill council in
order going before them.’ After the proclamation, they ‘did convoy him to
a sumptuous dinner and feast, prepared by the town of Edinburgh for him
and his special crowners [colonels]. This feast was six days in preparing,
whereat the bailies of Edinburgh did stand and serve the haill time of
that dinner.’ ‘There was great preparation for firewarks, whilk was
actit at the Mercat Cross betwixt nine and twelve hours in the nicht, to
the admiration of many people.’—Nic.
Next day was proclaimed an act of
grace, forfaulting the heirs of the Duke of Hamilton and some score of
other nobles, and imposing huge fines upon sundry others; for example,
£15,000 on the heirs of the Earl of Buccleuch, £10,000 on the Earl of
Panmure, £6000 on the Earl of Roxburgh, £5000 on the Earl of Perth, and
the latter sum and other sums down to £1000 on upwards of fifty others,
noblemen and gentlemen [these sums being of sterling money].
If, as has been insinuated by
cavalier writers, the Scotch nobles were prompted in their joining the
religious movement of 1637 by a fear of the revocation of church-lands,
they were now suffering a severe punishment for their hypocrisy. Under the
late exhausting wars, in which they had incurred vast expenses, and the
penal fines imposed on them by Cromwell, they might well be described by a
contemporary writer as nearly all ‘wracked.’ Our authority sums them up in
the following terms:
‘Dukes Hamilton, the one execute,
the other slain; their [e]state forfault[ed]; one part gifted to English
sogers; the rest will not pay the debt. Huntly execute; his sons all dead
but the youngest; there is more debt on the house nor the land can pay.
Lennox is living, as a man buried, in his house of Cobham. Douglas and his
son Arran are quiet men of no respect. Argyle almost drowned in debt, in
friendship with the English, but in hatred with the country. Chancellor
Loudon lives like an outlaw about Athole, his lands comprised for debt,
under a general very great disgrace. Marischal, Rothes, Eglintoun and his
three sons, Crawford, Lauderdale, and others, prisoners in England, and
their lands all either sequestrat or forfault[ed], and gifted to English
sogers. Balmerino suddenly dead, and his son, for public debt, comprisings,
and captions, keeps not the causey [that is, cannot appear in public].'
Landed proprietors, merchants, and indeed the entire
community, were now in a state of prostration in consequence of the wars.
According to the diarist Nicoll—’The poverty of the land daily increased,
by reason of inlaik of trade and traffic, both by sea and land, the people
being poor and under cess, quarterings, and other burdens. Falsets and
dyvours [bankrupts] daily increased; sundry of good rank, nobles, gentry,
and burgesses, denuncit to the horn, their escheats taken, their persons
imprisoned, and deteinit therein till their death. Bankrupts and broken
men, through all parts of the nation, for fear of caption and warding,
were forced to the to Glencairn and Kenmure, who were now in arms against
the English.’
In April of this year, an additional
trouble and burden fell upon the people, in consequence of the royalist
insurrections, no person being now allowed to travel from home without a
pass, for which a shilling sterling was charged. Scotland must have then
been in much the same condition as Hungary and Lombardy were under the
Austrians after 1848.
The summer of this year was
exceedingly fine, producing ripe peas and cherries at the beginning of
June, and yielding an early and abundant harvest; so that the best oatmeal
was only fourpence sterling per peck. ‘The lambs and fowls were also at
ane exceeding cheap rate’ (Nic.), and it is also stated that, from
the abundance of herrings in the west seas, these fish were sold so low as
twopence a hundred. Cheese was, in the west country, at 2s. 6d. sterling
per stone. - Caldwell Papers. This bounty of Providence is
not spoken of by contemporary journalists as abating in any degree the
sufferings of the people—tbough these, we cannot doubt, would have been
much greater if there had been a dearth. Just at this time, Nicoll returns
to the subject of the general distresses of the country. ‘Much people,’ he
says, ‘were brought to misery,’ and the land ‘groaned under its calamities
and burdens.’
Owing to the drought of the summer,
the wells on which Edinburgh depended for water ran dry; ‘sae that the
inhabitants could not get sufficient for ordering their meat.’
Nevertheless, ‘all the west country had more than ordinar abundance
of rain and weet?—Nic. The same writer adds afterwards that the
people of Edinburgh were obliged to go a mile before they could get any
clean water, ‘either for brewing of ale, or for their pot
meat.’
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,
‘ofttirnes 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.’
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.’
Oct
In the course of this month, a number of hares came
into the city of Edinburgh, even into its central parts, the High Street
and Parliament Close, ‘to the great admiration of many.’ ‘The like was
never heard nor seen before.’—Nic. This singular circumstance was
probably in some way a consequence of the dry nature of the season.
Nov
At this time commenced the series of alleged incidents constituting the
once famous history of the DEVIL OF GLENLUCE.
A poor weaver, named Gilbert
Campbell, at Glenluce in Galloway, had given offence to a sturdy beggar,
named Agnew, ‘a most wicked and avowed atheist, for which he was hanged at
Dumfries.’ The wretch went away muttering that he would do the family a
mischief. Whether before or after Agnew’s death does not appear, the
weaver and his family began to be annoyed with whistling noises, and by
petty acts of mischief—as the mislaying and destroying of little articles,
and the throwing of stones and peats, all by unseen hands. Their clothes
were sometimes drawn from them as they lay in bed. At the suggestion of
some neighbours, Campbell sent away his children, and for the time peace
ensued. So it was, after all except Tom had been brought back, and not
so after Tom had returned likewise; but, to shew that this was a point
of indifference, when Tom had been again sent away in the keeping of the
minister of the parish, the annoyances recommenced. This lad, it may be
remarked, said he had heard a voice warning him not to go back to his
father’s house; and when he did return, he was ‘sore abused,’ and thus
once more driven away.
In February, the family began to
hear a voice speak to them, but could not tell whence it came. ‘They came
at length in familiar discourse with the foul thief, that they were no
more afraid to keep up the clash with him, than to speak with one another;
in this they pleased him well, for he desired no better than to have
sacrifices offered to him. The minister, hearing of this, went to the
house upon the Tuesday, being accompanied by some gentlemen; one James
Bailie of Carphin, Alexander Bailie of Dunragget, Mr Robert Hay, and a
gentlewoman called Mrs Douglas, with the minister’s wife, did accompany.
At their first coming in, the devil says: "Quam literarum is good
Latin." These are the first words of the, Latin Rudiments, which scholars
are taught when they go to the grammar-school He cries again: "A dog!" The
minister, thinking he had spoken it to him, said: "He took it not ill to
be reviled by Satan, since his Master had trodden that path before him."
Answered Satan: "It was not you, sir, I spoke be; I meant the dog there;"
for there was a dog standing behind backs. This passing, they all went to
prayer; which being ended, they heard a voice speaking out of the ground,
from under the bed, in the proper country dialect, which he did
counterfeit exactly, saying: "Would you know the witches of Glenluce? I
will tell you them;" and so related four or five persons’ names that went
under a bad report. The weaver informed the company that one of them was
dead long ago. The devil answered and said: "It is true she is dead long
ago, but her spirit is living with us in the world." The minister replied,
saying (though it was not convenient to speak to such an excommunicated
and intercommuned person): "The Lord rebuke thee, Satan, and put thee to
silence; we are not to receive information from thee, whatsoever name any
person goes under; thou art seeking but to seduce this family, for Satan’s
kingdom is not divided against itself." After which, all went to prayer
again, which being ended—for during the time of prayer no noise or trouble
was made, except once that a loud fearful yell was heard at a distance,
the devil threatening and, terrifying the lad Tom, who had come back that
day with the minister, "that if he did not depart out of the house, he
would set all on fire"—says the minister: "The Lord will preserve the
house, and the lad too, seeing he is one of the family, and had God’s
warrant to tarry in it." The fiend answered: "He shall not get liberty to
tarry; he was once put out already, and shall not abide here, though I
should pursue him to the end of the world." The minister replied: "The
Lord will stop thy malice against him." And then they all went to prayer
again; which being ended, the devil said: "Give me a spade and a shovel,
and depart from the house for seven days, and I will make a grave, and lie
down in it, and shall trouble you no more." The goodman answered: "Not so
much as a straw shall be given thee, through God’s assistance, even though
that would do it." The minister also added: "God shall remove thee in due
time." The spirit answered: "I will not remove for you; I have my
commission from Christ to tarry and vex this family." The minister
answered: "A permission thou hast indeed, but God will stop it in due
time." The devil replied: "I have, sir, a commission, which perhaps will
last longer than your own." [The minister died in the year 1655, in
December.] The devil had told them "that he had given his commission to
Tom to keep." The company inquired at the lad, who said: "There was
something put into his pocket, but it did not tarry."
After a great deal of the like talk
with the unseen tormentor, ending with a declaration from him that he was
an evil spirit come from the bottomless pit to vex this house, and that
Satan was his father, ‘there appeared a naked hand, and an arm from the
elbow down, beating upon the floor till the house did shake again.’ This
the minister attested, and also that he heard the voice, saying: ‘Saw you
that? It was not my hand—it was my father’s; my hand is more black
in the loof [palm].’
Sinclair, who relates these things,
states that he received them from a son of Campbell who was at Glasgow
College with him. ‘I must here insert,’ he adds, ‘what I heard from one of
the ministers of that presbytery, who were appointed to, meet at the
weaver’s house for prayer and other exercises of that kind. When the day
came, five only met; but, before they went in, they stood a while in the
croft, which lies round about the house, consulting what to do. They
resolved upon two things: First, There should be no words of conjuration
used, as commanding him in the name of God to tell whence he was, or to
depart from the family, for which they thought they had no call from God.
Secondly, That when the devil spoke, none should answer him but hold on in
their worshipping of God, and the duties they were called to. When all of
them had prayed by turns, and three of them had spoken a word or two from
the Scripture, they prayed again, and then ended, without any disturbance.
When that brother who informed me had gone out, one Hugh Nisbit, one of
the company, came running after him, desiring him to come back, for he had
begun to whistle. "No," says the other, "I tarried as long as God called
me; but go in again I will not." After this, the said Gilbert suffered
much loss, and had many sad nights, not two nights in one week free; and
thus it continued until April. From April to July, he had some respite and
ease; but after, he was molested with new assaults. Even their victuals
were so abused, that the family was in hazard of starving; and that which
they ate gave them not their ordinary satisfaction they were wont to find.
‘In this sore and sad affliction,
Gilbert Campbell resolved to make his address to the synod of presbyters,
for advice and counsel what to do, which was appointed to convene in
October 1655—namely, Whether to forsake the house or not? The synod, by
their committee, appointed to meet at Glenluce in February 1656, thought
it fit that a solemn humiliation should be kept through all the bounds of
the synod; and, among other causes, to request God in behalf of that
afflicted family; which being done carefully, the event was, that his
trouble grew less till April, and from April to August he was altogether
free. About which time the devil began with new assaults; and taking the
ready meat which was in the house, did sometimes hide it in holes by the
doorposts, and at other times hid it under the beds, and sometimes among
the bed-clothes, and under the linens, and at last did carry it quite
away, till nothing was left there save bread and water. This minds me of a
small passage in proof of what it said. The goodwife one morning making
pottage for the children’s breakfast, had the tree-plate wherein the meal
lay snatched from her quickly. "Well," says she, "let me have my plate
again;" whereupon it came flying at he; without any skaith done. It is
like, if she had sought the meal too, she might have got it; such is his
civility when he is entreated; a small homage will please him, ere he
went. After this, he exercised his malice and cruelty against all persons
in the family, in wearying them in the night-time, by stirring and moving
through the house, so that they had no rest for noise, which continued all
the month of August after this manner. After which time the devil grew yet
worse, by roaring and terrifying, by casting of stones, by striking them
with staves on their bed in the night-time. And (September 18) about
midnight, he cried out with a loud voice, "I shall burn the house." And
about three or four nights after, he set one of the beds on fire, which
was soon put out, without any prejudice except the bed itself.’
Robert Baillie, writing to his
friend Mr Spang at Rotterdam in 1659, answers an inquiry of his
correspondent regarding ‘the apparition in Galloway,’ stating that it is
‘notourly known.’ He adds a short narrative of the chief particulars,
informing us that for a twelvemonth the apparition had been silent.
It is the first, but not the only
case of such spiritual visitations, which is reported as occurring in
Scotland during the seventeenth century: another, which happened at
Rerrick in the stewartry of Kirkcudbright in 1695, attracted great
attention. The Glenluce and Rerrick spirits belong to a class familiar in
Germany under the name of Poltergeist. In Beaumont’s Gleanings
of Antiquities, 1724, the author quotes from Aventinus’s Annals of
Bavaria a case of poltergeist resembling in many circumstances this
Glenluce one. ‘This pestilent and wicked genius, taking a human shape,
gave answers, discovered thefts, accused many of crimes, and set a mark of
infamy on them, stirred up discords and ill-will among them. By degrees,
he set fire to and burned down cottages, but was more troublesome to one
man than the rest,’ &c.
1655, Jan
Baillie, writing a little before this time, laments ‘the abolition of
almost all our church liberties.’ By the putting down of our General
Assemblies and Kirk Commission, licence had been given, he says, to ‘any
who will to profess grievous errors.’ This, where ‘we expected a full and
perfect reformation, does oft break our heart.’ It has already been seen
that, so soon as the incoming of the English sectaries had to some degree
checked the ‘church liberties,’ dissent had begun to appear in various
forms. We now hear of off-breakings of a kind more alarming than ever.
There arose at this time—to use the
language of a contemporary—‘great numbers of that damnable sect of the
Quakers, who, being deluded by Satan, drew away mony to their profession,
both men and women." ‘They, in a furious way, cry down both ministry and
magistracy. Some of them seem actually possessed by a devil; their fury,
their irrational passions, and convulsions are so great.' ‘Sundry of them
walking through the streets, all naked except their shirts, crying: "This
is the way, walk ye in it ;" others crying out: "The day of salvation is
at hand; draw near to the Lord, for the sword of the Lord is drawn, and
will not be put up till the enemies of the Lord be destroyed."
Under the same mania, several of the
English soldiers and certain of the native inhabitants created
disturbances in the churches of Edinburgh, calling on the people not to
believe the false doctrine which was preached to them. ‘The devil, working
strongly upon their imaginations, made them to believe that the Spirit
descendit upon them like ane dow; carried them from one place to another,
and made mony of them cry out: "I am the way, the truth, and the life,"’
and ‘make circles about them [selves] with their hands, with many like
actions.’ The devil also told them he was ‘putting aft the old man, that
the stones were taken out of their hearts, and they had now got hearts of
flesh.’ He threw stones among them, crying out: ‘Lo, here is my heart of
stone!’ made swallows come down from chimneys, and cry out: ‘My angels! my
angels!’ ‘They continuing in this motion, he made them to believe that
Christ pointed at them, and to leave wives and children, and to hear
voices, sometimes condemning, sometimes pardoning their sins....Some of
thir Quakers, being recalled [to sanity], began to question whether that
power by which they were so strongly act[uat]ed, were divine or
diabolical. Thereupon they were stricken with panic fears, and some hands
were carried to take up a knife lying upon a table, and their hands
carried to their throat, and a voice said: "Open a hole there, and I will
give thee the words of eternal life;" which made some of them to apprehend
that it was the devil, he being the prince of the powers of the air...
This evil spirit prevailed with much people, and charged them to deny all
ministerial teaching and ordinances, together with all notional knowledge
formerly gained by such means, to become as though they had never learned
anything savingly, and to lay ane new groundwork—namely, to be taught of
God within ourselves by waiting upon ane inward light . ... and much
more.’ —Nic.
It is remarked by Nicoll, under May
1656, that the Quakers were at that time increasing and becoming more
confident, and that their pretended
sermons and hortations on the Castle Hill of
Edinburgh were well attended. It was alleged that the continued divisions
among the clergy contributed much to the increase of this heresy.
Towards the end of 1656, the Quaker
doctrines had begun to appear among the people in the presbytery of
Lanark. The ministers of Douglas and of Lesmahago gave in the names of
certain of their parishioners who had been thus deluded. One named William
Mitchell compeared, and denied the Confession of Faith; and it appeared
soon after that he maintained that ‘there was no baptism with water in the
church—God gives every man saving grace—sprinkling of infants and marrying
of people with joining of hands was the mark of the beast—there is no
natural light in man—no man was fallen—and the preaching of the gospel as
it is in Scotland by the priests thereof was anti-Christian.’ Others
‘reset’ the Quakers, ‘saying they get as much good of them as of anybody
else.’ On the 30th of April 1657, the presbytery excommunicated eight
persons on account of their obstinate adherence to these doctrines.—R.
P. L.
Feb
In consequence of excessively stormy weather this month, many thousands of
dead eels were cast out upon the banks of the North Loch at Edinburgh, ‘to
the admiration of many.’—Nic.
A severe frost set in, and continued
till the middle of April, to the interruption of farmwork; and it was
deemed necessary to announce a fast for an early day. ‘No sooner was this
fast and humiliation intimate from the pulpits of Edinburgh, but it
seemed—and there was no doubt—the Lord was weel pleased; and it was his
pleasure to tryst the desire of the people with fair and seasonable
weather.’—Nic.
Heavy and continual rains in August
threatened the crop with destruction. A solemn fast and humiliation was
held on the 16th of August, in the hope of averting the threatened
calamity. But ‘the people were not rightly humbled; there was no fervent
prayer; the Lord’s face was not earnestly sought . . . . as was evident by
the Lord’s frowning countenance and augmentation of the rain, whilk daily
increased and sometimes three days and three nights together without
intermission, continuing sae... till the 15th day of September.’
For two years past, ‘victual of all
sorts was exceeding cheap, the best peck of meal in the mercat of
Edinburgh being sold for a groat, and sometimes for [3½d.], the boll of
wheat for [6s. 8d.]. But immediately after this extraordinary rain, the
mercats did rise, for this unseasonable weather put many in fear of dearth
and famine.’—Nic.
May
We incidentally learn the wages of a skilled artisan in Scotland at this
time from the account which Lamont gives of the expense of slating and
pointing the house of Lundie in Fife. The work was done by David
Brown, slater in Anstruther, and his son, and so well, he said, that it
would not need to be touched again for seven years. David and his son were
paid for this work—their diet in the house during the twenty-four
working-days they were engaged upon it, and twenty-four shillings Scots,
or two shillings sterling, per day, in money.
July
On a Sunday, at the close of this month, the communion was administered in
Edinburgh, the first time after an interval of six years, for so long had
the rite been discontinued in the capital and other parts of the kingdom,
by reason of the troubles and divisions which had prevailed. From one
disqualification and another, ‘much people was debarred.’—Nic.
Oct
The Council of State having forbidden the clergy to pray for the king on
pain of being silenced, they, ‘knowing that it lay upon them to preach,
and that, if only for naming a king they should occasion the closing of
their own mouth, therein they would greatly sin, generally desisted from
praying for him as king.’— C. P. H.
Owing to the dearth of victual, the
burdens of the people were felt as more than ever oppressive. Yet at this
crisis, the cess imposed by the English was augmented a fifth. In
Edinburgh, another cess was imposed, ‘for buying of home and carts, for
carrying away and transporting of the filth, muck, and fulzie out of the
closes and causey of Edinburgh; whilk [the tax] much grievit the people,
and so much the more because the people receivit no satisfaction for their
money, but the causey and closes continued more and more filthy, and no
pains taken for clenging the streets.’—Nic.
Rather oddly, the more the poverty
of the people increased, vanity the more abounded; ‘for at this time it
was daily seen that gentlewomen and burgesses’ wives had more gold and
silver about their gown and wyliecoat tails nor their husbands had in
their purses and coffers.’ ‘Therefore, great judgment was evidently seen
upon the land, and the Lord’s hand stretched out still.’—Nic.
The Edinburgh municipality, though
it had for some time had a plack on every pint of ale sold in the city,
was 1,100,000 merks [upwards of £61,000] in debt. ‘Oh, for the miseries of
kirk and state at this time!’ exclaims Nicoll. ‘The Lord’s anger hot
against both, and nane to stand up in the gap.’
Dec 10
After some weeks of severe and stormy weather, there befell this day a
tempest of the most terrible character, from the northeast, producing
fearful havoc among the ships on the east coast, and causing likewise the
loss of great numbers of people, bestial, and goods by land. ‘The like
storm was not seen by the space of many years before; no, not that great
storm that did arise at the death of King James the Sixth [in March 1625]
did equal this storm.’—Nic.
Dec 19
Died, in Westminster, Sir William Dick, of Braid, Baronet, once reputed
the richest man of his time in Scotland, but latterly in great misery and
want; aged seventy-five. In his earlier life, he conducted merchandise on
a great scale in Edinburgh. The government in those days pursued that mode
of collecting revenue which made farmers-general so much the objects of
popular wrath and hatred in France in the time of Voltaire. Dick farmed
the Scottish customs—also the revenues of Orkney—yet we do not hear that
he bore his faculties with marked ungentleness. He was rather a simple
man, accessible to the insinuations of vanity, and inspired with a full
share of the earnest religious feelings of his age. When the affair of the
Covenant came upon the tapis, it was thought well to secure the
co-operation of this rich merchant by getting him made provost of
Edinburgh. Thus he was easily persuaded to advance considerable sums in
order to enable his countrymen to resist the king. Sir Walter Scott
alludes in one of his novels to the tradition describing sacks of dollars
poured from a window in Provost Dick’s house into carts, that carried them
to the army at Dunse Law. When the Scottish Covenanters afterwards
prepared an army to assist in putting down the rebellion in Ireland, it
could not have marched without meal and money furnished by Provost Dick.
It appears from an authoritative document, that, on this occasion alone,
Sir William became a national creditor to the extent of £10,000. In all
the other movements of his countrymen at that time, for the protection and
advancement of their favourite church-polity, Dick shewed the same large
faith in the good cause, and probably, but for him, things might have
taken a different turn on many occasions from what they did. What finally
remained owing to him in Scotland amounted to £28,131. The English
parliament was at the same time his debtor to the amount of £36,803—sums
rarely heard of as belonging to an individual in that age. Sir William had
been assured by the leaders he dealt with, both of thankful repayment from
themselves, and of the blessing of the Almighty for the trust he had
reposed in the cause of truth and righteousness. But the actual result was
simply the utter wrack of his worldly affairs. Efforts were indeed made to
repay his advances, but wholly without effect. In 1652, he proceeded to
London, to urge the government to do him justice. By this time, his
affairs had got into confusion, his credit as a merchant was gone, and his
creditors were pressing upon him. It does not appear that he succeeded in
wringing more than a thousand pounds out of the hands of the Commonwealth
men. Finally, incurring fresh debts for his subsistence in the metropolis,
he was thrown into prison in Westminster—a memorable example of the
reverses of fortune incidental to a time of civil strife.
A curious and very rare pamphlet in
folio, entitled The Lamentable Estate and Distressed Case of the
Deceased Sir William Dick in Scotland and his Numerous Family and
Creditors for the Commonwealth, contains two prints, the first
representing Sir William at the crisis when he was so serviceable to the
cause of the Covenant, mounted on a handsome dress, and with a goodly
retinue, his horse trampling on money and money-bags scattered along the
ground. On one hand is seen Hamilton’s fleet in the Firth of Forth, with
the significant date 1639 inscribed on one of the vessels; on the other,
Edinburgh Castle undergoing siege, with the date 1640, evidently referring
to the leaguer which the Castle underwent when the Covenanters were
endeavouring to wrest it from the officer who held it for the king. Below
this print is inscribed:
‘See here a Merchant who for’s
country’s good,
Leaves off his trade to spend both wealth and blood,
Tramples on profit to redeem the fate
Of his decaying church, and prince, and state.
Such traffic sure none can too highly prize,
When gain itself is made a sacrifice.
But oh, how ill will such examples move,
If Loss be made the recompense to Love.’
Sir William’s favourite mottoes are
inscribed above—PUBLICA SALUS NUNC MEA MERCES, and PRO FOEDERE, REGE, ET
GREGE. The second print, of which the original painting is still preserved
at Prestonfield House, near Edinburgh, represents the unfortunate merchant
in his prison-cell, seated on a bulk in a mean dress, manacled and
fettered, with his family weeping around him, and four officers of the law
at his back, scourges and fetters being scattered about the floor. Below
are inscribed the motto, PUBLICA FIDES NUNC MEA SERVITUS, and these lines:
‘He whom you see thus by vile
sergeants torn,
Was once his country’s pattern, now their scorn;
Whilst into prison dragged, he there complains,
Who least deserves doth soonest suffer chains.
And who for public doth his faith engage,
Changes his palace for an iron cage.
Then add, to shew his unbecoming fate,
He had been free had he not served the state.’
The preface to the pamphlet speaks
of him as once ‘renowned at home and abroad as a famous merchant. When all
men have sought their own, he, contrary to the principles of his outward
calling, in the time of public calamity, did cheerfully embark himself,
his estate, which was very considerable, and his credit, which was
greater, known by his fame abroad that his bills were never protested, but
accepted through all Christendom, yea even in the dominions of the
Turks—and this not out of any private end, but for the public good cause,
which had so many prayers laid out for it then, which he believed would be
answered in due time.’ In the ‘Case’ as addressed to parliament, after a
recital, of his loans and the many acknowledgments and efforts to pay
previously made, it is said: ‘Notwithstanding all this, and of the
aforesaid Sir William Dick his expense and painful satisfaction by agents
and friends the space of sixteen years, and of his own personal attendance
upon three parliaments and his highness’s council from November 1652 until
November 1655, in his great old age of seventy and five years, and gray
hairs full of sorrow and heaviness of heart, for such deplorable
sufferings in credit and estate, by so good service performed in England,
and with his cries to heaven for justice and mercy to his so deep
afflictions for well-doing; yet, nevertheless, little or nothing was
recovered all his time here, but one small sum of one thousand pounds in
August 1653; insomuch that, by reason of this delay, floods of desolation
and distress have overwhelmed him and his children with their numerous
families and little ones; their lands and houses being extended and
possessed by the creditors in the cruel execution of the law; their
chattels and goods, too, yea their ornaments, the covering of their
nakedness, and the coverlet in which they should sleep, being publicly
distrained and seized upon for these debts and disbursements engaged in by
them to promote the public service. Neither is this all; one woe is past,
and behold two woes come after this. Ah! the old man himself was once and
again disgracefully cast into prison for small debts contracted for
necessary livelihood, during his attendance for satisfaction.’ ‘In the
end, through heart-break by so long disappointment,’ he died, ‘in great
misery and want, and without the benefit of a decent funeral, after six
months’ petitioning for some little money towards the same. And to
complete the third woe and perfection of sorrowful afflictions, his
children are cast at this day, and lying in prisons these twenty months
past for public debts, in great sufferings of their persons, credit, and
calling, and weariness of life, longing for death more than for treasures,
and where they and their numerous families had already perished for want
of bread, if some little supply by his highness’s goodness had not been
lately appointed them.’
It appears that after the
Restoration the parliament, as might have been expected, declined to
acknowledge the debts contracted by the irregular governments of the
preceding twenty years; so Sir William’s large loans were never refunded.
An advance (100,274 merks) on the Orkney revenues was ignored in 1669,
still further wrecking the property of the family. The only compensation
which Sir Andrew Dick, son of Sir William, could obtain, was a pension of
£132 sterling, which lasted for a few years only. |