by Douglas Watt
DOUGLAS WATT is a historian, poet and novelist who lives in Linlithgow with his wife Julie and their three children. He won the Hume Brown Senior Prize in Scottish History in 2008 for The Price of Scotland: Darien, Union and the Wealth of Nations (2007). Testament of a Witch is the second in his series of ingenious murder mysteries set in seventeenth century Scotland featuring lawyers John MacKenzie and David Scougall.
By the same author:
Fiction:
Death of a Chief (2009)
History:
The Price of Scotland: Darien, Union and the Wealth of Nations (2007)
Poetry:
A History of Moments (2005)
Testament of a Witch
DOUGLAS WATT
Luath Press Limited
EDINBURGH
www.luath.co.uk
First published 2011
eBook published 2013
ISBN (print): 978-1-906817-79-4
ISBN (eBook): 978-1-909912-29-8
The author’s right to be identified as author of this book under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 has been asserted.
The publisher acknowledges the support of Creative Scotland towards the publication of this volume.
© Douglas Watt 2011
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
List of Main Characters
PRELUDE - A Sermon on Witchcraft
CHAPTER 1 - Lammer Law
CHAPTER 2 - A Round on Leith Links
CHAPTER 3 - The Devil’s Pool
CHAPTER 4 - A Letter in the Library
CHAPTER 5 - Death on the Castle Hill
CHAPTER 6 - A Portrait of Lady Girnington
CHAPTER 7 - Coffee in Edinburgh
CHAPTER 8 - An Evening by the Fireside
CHAPTER 9 - Spiritual Exercises
CHAPTER 10 - A Meal in Musselburgh
CHAPTER 11 - The Burial of a Gentlewoman
CHAPTER 12 - The Delation of Margaret Rammage
CHAPTER 13 - A Conversation with Janet Cornfoot
CHAPTER 14 - Lammersheugh House
CHAPTER 15 - A Cottage in the Woods
CHAPTER 16 - Sackcloth
CHAPTER 17 - A Stranger on the Road
CHAPTER 18 - The Latterwill of Lady Lammersheugh
CHAPTER 19 - The Pricking of Euphame Hay
CHAPTER 20 - The Devil’s Footprints
CHAPTER 21 - The Dreams of Euphame Hay
CHAPTER 22 - A Reception at Girnington House
CHAPTER 23 - A Meeting with the Colonel
CHAPTER 24 - The Wake of Janet Cornfoot
CHAPTER 25 - The Library of Lammersheugh
CHAPTER 26 - The Steeple
CHAPTER 27 - A Visit to the Manse
CHAPTER 28 - A Few Hours in Haddington
CHAPTER 29 - Redemption of a Debt
CHAPTER 30 - A Wax Painting
CHAPTER 31 - A Glass in the Bell
CHAPTER 32 - A Last Drink
CHAPTER 33 - A Conversation with Archibald Muschet
CHAPTER 34 - The Hovel of a Witch
CHAPTER 35 - Questions for Mr Cant
CHAPTER 36 - A Walk Through the Graveyard
CHAPTER 37 - Clachdean Castle
CHAPTER 38 - The Edinburgh Tolbooth
CHAPTER 39 - The Cellars of Clachdean
CHAPTER 40 - A Conversation with Theophilus Rankine
CHAPTER 41 - Clem Bell’s Midden
CHAPTER 42 - The Sleep of Euphame Hay
CHAPTER 43 - A Picture of Grissell Hay
CHAPTER 44 - An Uncomfortable Night
CHAPTER 45 - A Sister’s Love
CHAPTER 46 - Letters from Edinburgh
CHAPTER 47 - The Prayers of Theophilus Rankine
CHAPTER 48 - A Letter for Davie Scougall
CHAPTER 49 - An Interview with George Cockburn
CHAPTER 50 - The Confession of Euphame Hay
CHAPTER 51 - A Conversation at Woodlawheid
CHAPTER 52 - The Devil’s Machine
CHAPTER 53 - All Hallow’s Eve
CHAPTER 54 - A Warlock in the Steeple
CHAPTER 55 - A Discovery on the Road
CHAPTER 56 - The Genealogy of Girnington
CHAPTER 57 - Back in the Library
CHAPTER 58 - A Discovery in the Cottage
CHAPTER 59 - The Testament of Grissell Hay
CHAPTER 60 - A Final Thread
POSTSCRIPT - A Visit from Euphame Hay
HISTORICAL NOTE - The Scottish Witch-hunt
To Robbie
Nam, ut vere loquamur, superstitio fusa per gentis oppressit omnium fere animos atque hominum imbecillitatem occupavit.
Cicero, De Divinatione, Book 2, Chapter 72.
Speaking frankly, superstition, which is widespread among the nations, has taken advantage of human weakness to cast its spell over the mind of almost every man.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank my wife Julie for her continuing love and support. Her belief in the characters John MacKenzie and Davie Scougall has kept me writing about their journey through late seventeenth century Scotland. Thanks to my children, Jamie, Robbie and Katie, for keeping me firmly grounded in the twenty-first century. I apologise to them for spending too many hours in the seventeenth century. Thanks also to everyone at Luath and to Jennie Renton for editing the text.
List of Main Characters
John MacKenzie, advocate in Edinburgh, Clerk of the Court of Session
Davie Scougall, writer in Edinburgh
Elizabeth MacKenzie, daughter of John MacKenzie
Sir George MacKenzie of Rosehaugh, advocate, ex-Lord Advocate
Grissell Hay, Lady Lammersheugh
Andrew Cant, minister of Lammersheugh
Janet Cornfoot, servant of Lady Lammersheugh
Euphame Hay, daughter of Lady Lammersheugh
Rosina Hay, daughter of Lady Lammersheugh
Archibald Muschet, merchant in Lammersheugh
Theophilus Rankine, session clerk of Lammersheugh
Marion Rankine, sister of Theophilus Rankine
Adam Cockburn, Laird of Woodlawheid
Helen Cockburn, Lady Woodlawheid
George Cockburn, son of Adam Cockburn
Colonel Robert Dewar, Laird of Clachdean
Lillias Hay, Lady Girnington
Gideon Purse, lawyer in Haddington
George Sinclair, author on witchcraft
John Murdoch, servant of Lady Lammersheugh
Elizabeth Murdoch, wife of John Murdoch
Margaret Rammage, confessing witch
Helen Rammage, sister of Margaret Rammage
John Kincaid, pricker of witches
PRELUDE - A Sermon on Witchcraft
October 1687
‘THIS PARISH IS enthralled to the Devil,’ the minister began his sermon, carefully articulating each word. He was a young man in his thirties dressed in black gowns, standing in a large wooden pulpit elevated above the congregation. On the canopy above his head, a board was carved with the text: ‘Fear the Lord and honour his house.’ His eyes darted round the packed church, moving from face to face.
‘This parish is enthralled to the Devil,’ he repeated, before turning over an hourglass at the side of the lectern. ‘Satan walks amongst us.’ He waited through an intense silence.
‘We begin,’ he continued, ‘with Exodus Chapter 22, Verse 18.’ The people knew what was coming. They had heard the verse on countless Sabbaths. He raised the volume of his voice: ‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.’ Then shouting: ‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!’
His eyes came to rest on two penitents, a man and woman wearing sackcloth, sitting on stools at the front. Cards tied to their shoulders allowed those behin
d to read the words scrolled in capitals on their backs:
‘FORNICATOR, FILTHY WHORE’.
‘We have in this verse a precept of the Law of God, a precept of law given to the judges of the people of Israel, a precept given to those to whom the power of the sword is committed. They shall not suffer a witch to live.’ Again silence.
‘But what is a witch?’ He glared across the worshippers before looking down at his notes. Some gazed longingly back at him. Others were so terrified they could not raise their eyes lest he see into their black hearts.
‘By a witch is understood to be a person that hath immediate converse with the Devil. So Leviticus Chapter 20, Verse 27 tells us: “A man also or woman that hath a familiar spirit, or that is a wizard, shall surely be put to death: they shall stone them with stones: their blood shall be upon them.” The spirit of God doth expressly mention either man or woman.’
His eyes shone with the ecstasy of power. ‘And Deuteronomy Chapter 18, Verses 10 to 13, says: “There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer. For all that do these things are an abomination unto the Lord.”’
He snatched a look at the hourglass. There was still plenty of time. He repeated with more vigour: ‘An abomination unto the Lord!’
Raising his eyes, he continued: ‘There are some sins so gross in nature that every single act of them deserves death by the law of God.’ He slowed his delivery to emphasise what followed: ‘Such sins are bestiality, incest and sodomy. And so I take an act of witchcraft to be such a gross sin. Every act deserves death by the law of God.’ The expression on his face was suffused with such earnestness, no one could have doubted that he believed what he said.
‘What constitutes a person to be a witch? I speak now of both men and women, as from scripture. It requires a real compact between Satan and that person. They receive the Devil’s Mark upon their flesh. Or the parent offers their child unto Satan.’
He addressed a line of older children in the second pew on the left side of the congregation: ‘The parent offers their child to him. They receive his mark just as the children of professing parents receiving baptism will be in covenant with God. A witch shall worship Satan as their God. They shall follow him as their guide. They are constituted to be worshippers of Satan. They sell themselves in body and soul to do wickedness. They follow the Devil who is the prince of the power of the air.’ He lowered his head, briefly pausing.
‘Why do God’s creatures turn from him? It flows from the blindness and perverseness that have fallen upon us by the fall of Man. It flows from people who undervalue, slight and condemn the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It flows from the prevalence of lust and corruption among the people in the visible church. It flows from covetousness, pride and malice.’ He raised his head: ‘Turn you away from Satan.’ Then, after another longer pause, lifting his voice: ‘Turn you away from Satan!’, then shouting: ‘Turn you away from Satan!’
He stared again at the penitents. The woman looked down at her bare feet in humiliation. The man gazed at the whitewashed wall behind the minister.
‘Men and women are led by Satan to carry out deeds of depravity and evil whether by ordinary means, such as using a cord or napkin to strangle with, or by putting pins in a picture or clay figure, roasting it on a fire and flaming it with vinegar and brandy. This is done to put an innocent person to torment. Witches are called to meetings by Satan where all manner of debauchery and perversity is manifest, such as dancing, drinking strong liquor and singing. All kinds of sin are indulged in, including,’ he paused to emphasise what was coming, ‘the gravest sin of all, the grossest sin imaginable – carnal dealings with Satan. It is so opposite to that natural moral honesty which dignifies the marriage of man and woman. It flows from that blindness and perverseness that have fallen upon us by the fall of Man.
‘Witches are the greatest hypocrites under the sun. Witchcraft is one of those evil deeds that the spirit of God enjoins death upon. There are today witches in our midst who pollute the parish of Lammersheugh, bringing discord and immorality. We desire that God will bring their works of darkness to light so that His enemies may be punished. Satan blinds the mind of those that despise the Gospel. Show us, oh God – show us who they are.’
The silence was unbearable. It was broken by a finely dressed middle-aged woman rising from her pew. With head bowed, she walked to a side door and left the kirk. She was followed by an old woman, shuffling behind.
The movement distracted the minister, breaking the dramatic momentum of his sermon. Although he was angered by the interruption, he quickly gathered his thoughts.
‘Satan blinds the mind of those who despise the Gospel. Let this humble us all. Let us bewail it as a great evil that such a place as Scotland, where the gospel of Christ has been purely preached, should have so many under suspicion of the crime of witchcraft. You that are free, bless God that hath kept you from the wicked one, and pray out of zeal to God and his Glory that he shall bring these works of darkness to light that mar our solemnities and are fearful spots in our feasts. I beseech you, be vigilant. Watch your neighbours. Watch your children. Watch your mother and your father. Watch your master and your servant. None are free from the stain that darkens the nation. Satan walks and smiles in our parish. He spreads evil amongst us. Let us pray…’
Placing a hand on the Bible in the lectern, he closed his eyes, raising the other above his head, palm outwards. At last he appeared to relax. A smile was on his face. It was the smile of a man communing with God, the smile of a man who knew God, a man who knew he was right in what he did, a man who knew that he was saved, chosen from the beginning of time to be one of God’s Elect. The congregation lowered their heads and followed the prayer.
‘Let all the congregation say Amen. Let all the saints in heaven and earth praise him. Let all the congregation say Amen. Let sun and moon praise him. Let fire, hailstorms, winds and vapours praise him. Let all the congregation say Amen. Let men and women praise him. Let all the congregation say Amen.’
CHAPTER 1 - Lammer Law
THE WOMAN WAS a streak of black against the browns and greens of the broad rounded hilltop. She stood under a heavy sky beside a small copse of birch. Staring northwards, she listened to the wind in the leaves. It was their last song before autumn cast them into the universe.
When she removed her bonnet, dark auburn hair flecked with grey fell down onto her shoulders. She let the breeze enliven her pallid face as she watched a small boat miles away on the Firth, far beneath her to the north. It was bound for Leith, having crossed the German Sea with a cargo from Amsterdam, she supposed. In her mind she saw a sailor on board thinking of his sweetheart in the Indies, a world away. She felt his loneliness as he stared on the grey sky and brown hills of Scotland. Her own daughters had always loved her stories. Their two faces came to her as they were when young girls. They had lived inside her body once, also. She had been able to protect them, then.
She looked over to the Bass Rock, a dark tooth protruding from the sea. It was where the conventiclers were imprisoned; rigid, self-righteous men. Her eyes moved to the cone-shaped Berwick Law where they burned witches long ago. In the far distance to the west was the sleeping lion of Arthur’s Seat and the town of Edinburgh. She had not been there for years, not since before Alexander’s death. Her eyes focused on a castle in the foreground, perhaps two miles to the north-east of where she stood, but a thousand feet beneath her. It was a fine structure, perhaps more of a great house than a fortified dwelling, for it had been substantially altered by the Earl during her lifetime. Tweeddale was the head of her husband’s family, the Hays. But she did not think that he would be able to help her.
A few miles from the castle were the lineaments of her own world. How still and peaceful it appeared from here – the spire of a kirk, a few dwelling
houses between the trees, the gables of Lammersheugh House where she had lived since her marriage, all those years before. The House was surrounded by gardens which they had planted together. It seemed like another world, or someone else’s life. She saw him as she always did when she thought of him, or when someone spoke of him, walking in the garden in summer. The image of his body sent a wave of excitement through her. The girls are playing at his feet. He takes one of them by the arms, Euphame, and lifts her off the ground. There are screams of delight. Then the image fades. His arm is round her waist in the lengthening shadows. The memory of the feel of him returns, the memory of happiness – real love, not just desire. They had known each other since they were children, although he was two years older. There had always been something between them. She had watched him standing beside his tall sister in the kirk. But she had not expected that he would choose her. She was the daughter of a decaying house. When he had gone to college in Edinburgh the heart was ripped from her life. The two long years he was in Europe were empty ones when she imagined he had found a rich foreign heiress. But he came back to her, as he had said he would.
She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the bliss of bygone years. It was as if they had lived in a storybook which was not real, a dream maybe. This was real life. She opened her eyes. Pain engulfed her like the tide on a lonely shore.
The vision of the garden was gone. She saw him lying in his winding sheet; pale, cold, but still beautiful. Now he would never return from across the water. And would she ever see him again? In her heart she believed that the minister and elders were wrong. There was still a chance that they might be reunited. She must believe that.
‘Grissell.’
For a moment she thought that he was calling her name, that he had come back to her. But in an instant despair returned. The voice was familiar. But it was not his. She did not turn in the direction it came from. The realisation of the present cut deep. She did not hate the voice, only the thought that it was not his. She imagined the small red heart beating inside her.