Searching the body of an accused person for an insensate spot, or ‘witch-pricking’, has long been accepted as one of the principal means by which individuals were found guilty of the crime in Scotland. Larner has summarized this position by noting that ‘the dominance of the witch’s mark, which provided an intellectual bridge between popular and educated belief, and the consequent role of the pricker, also appear strongly in Scotland’.35 W.N. Neill, in an article which appeared in the Scottish Historical Review in 1891 argued for the importance of the ‘Professional Pricker’.36 A distinction may need to be made between the searching of a woman, already arrested and suspected as a witch for the Devils mark and the proactive activity of the witch-pricker. The former could occur anytime after her arrest, and at random. In situations where a professional witch-finder was brought on the scene, a hunt could spread to include those normally not considered witches by the community. In these instances one would expect to find a concentration of cases. So, for example, references to John Kincaid appearing in areas of intense persecution in 1649 and an unknown witch-pricker appearing in Cupar Presbytery in 1662 come as no surprise.37 But, how prevalent was this kind of activity? When did these professional witch-finders operate?
The current evidence from throughout Scotland suggests that such activity was quite limited prior to 1630. Agnes Sampson was pricked for the witch’s mark during the 1590–1 hunt.38 Christina Larner also refers to the case of Margaret Atkin, ‘the great witch of Balweary’, who, in the period after 1597, acted as a witch-finder. Interestingly enough she did not search with a pin, but instead was noted for finding them by merely looking at them: ‘they had a secret mark all of that sort, in their eyes, whereby she could surely tell, how soon she looked upon any, whether they were witches or not’. She was eventually discovered as a fraud, but not before causing the execution of accused witches as far away as Glasgow and was brought back to Fife where she had originally been apprehended.39 It is interesting to speculate on whether this Margaret Atkin was also known as ‘Marion Kwyne, detector of witches’ who seems to have been at the heart of a major hunt involving thirteen women and two men in the neighbouring parish of Kirkcaldy.40 There is no clear indication of any witch finders at work in the other witchcraft cases which took place during this year.
The next indication of a professional witch-finder at work comes in 1632 when the activity of one John Balfour in Corhouse came to the attention of the Privy Council. The Privy Council interpreted his activity as fraudulent, as going about ‘the country abusing simple and ignorant people for his private gain’.41 All of the other cases cited by W. N. Neill took place between this date and 1677, when witch-prickers seem to have been active in Stirling and Haddington, a point after which he argues they began to decline.42 The most cryptic reference is a quotation attributed to the minister of Gladsmuir, Rev. John Bell:
I need not insist much in describing this mark, which is sometimes like a blewish spot; and I myself have seen it in the body of a confessing witch, like a little powder-mark of a blea colour, somewhat hard, and withall insensible, so as it did not bleed when I pricked it.43
Given the fact that the Gladsmuir-Haddington area witnessed some of the most intense witch-hunts anywhere in Scotland, and given the fact that Bell did not become minister there until 1701, a time when no known cases have been discovered, this is a fascinating, if puzzling, reference indeed.44 Most of the cases noted by Larner of the activity of witch-prickers, fall within the same period of roughly forty years. The last case she cites occurred in Thurso in 1718.45
The research on Fife has uncovered several instances where professional witch-prickers were active, all but Margaret Atkin within this period (1630 to 1670) which spans the greatest years of the hunt. During the intense investigation in 1637 of Alison Dick in Kirkcaldy, there is a reference to someone riding to Preston ‘for the man who tries the witches’.46 In Dunfermline in 1643 we have another curious reference. David Crystie and Margaret Crystie were fined as a result of a disturbance which occurred while Margaret was going into the church to visit her mother, who was being held in the church as a witch. The record speaks of the mother’s guilt being ‘sufficentilie provine be certane famous Witnesses’.47 Whether this refers to some individual witch-finder is an open question. What is beyond doubt is the presence of John Kincaid, the famous witch-pricker, in Dunfermline parish in 1649. The session minutes not only note the execution of Bessie Mortoun, one of the nine accused of witchcraft in the parish that year, but include the record of a payment of 20 merks to John Kincaid in Tranent who had come and ‘tried the witch mark on Bessie Mortoun’.48 There is a further notation of a payment to Andrew Thomson for lodging the witch ‘triers’ (plural).49 John Kincaid also made another £6 Scots that year for ‘brodding’ Margaret Dunhome outside of Fife in Burntcastle.50
The final evidence of witch-finders active in Fife comes again during a period of major persecution. The cases of Margaret Carvie and Barbara Horniman from Falkland appeared before the Privy Council in January, 1662. At least six weeks previously these two women had been imprisoned on direction of the parish minister and magistrates. During their six week imprisonment they had endured ‘a great deal of torture by one who takes upon him the trial of witches by pricking’. Despite their ordeal, Margaret Carvie and Barbara Horniman maintained their innocence and, as there was no evidence against them, the Council ordered them to be set free.51 It should be noted that these cases appear near the beginning of the significant panic that swept through Cupar Presbytery in 1662. Several months prior to this there is a similar reference in the parish of Aberdour in Dunfermline Presbytery. The minister, Mr. Bruce, informed his session that he had sent for a ‘man that tries the witches, for seeking out the devil’s mark’. William Ross, a local historian who has studied these records, argues this individual may even have been in the parish, for the agreement is made that the examination will take place the following day.52 One of the women who seemingly underwent this ordeal was Janet Bell.
While there clearly was a witch-finder present in Aberdour in this period, one should be cautious in attributing to him (or her?) the origin of this outbreak of persecution. In fact, the hunt began sometime earlier with Margaret Currie and Catherine Robertson being arrested and incarcerated in July as suspected witches, as was noted in the minutes of the parish session:
Seeing that there are severalls, in this toune, that long ago should have been apprehended for witchcraft, and never hands yet laid upon them, wherefore the Session desires the Bailzie to cause apprehend and incarcerate, presently, Margaret Currie and Catharine Robertson, or any of the two if the one be absent.53
The long standing nature of this quarrel seems evident based upon the known details. A ‘Margaret Currie’ had been accused in 1649 as a witch.54 It is unclear whether or not this was the same individual, yet the records do note that the Margaret Currie and Catharine Robertson arrested in 1661 had been accused by ‘dying witches’.55 The next woman to be arrested, Margaret Cant, had tried to clear her name in 1654, but failed.56 The evidence clearly suggests some long standing grudges. Also, this witch-hunt was well under way and building momentum before the appearance of the witch-pricker. Indeed Margaret Cant and Margaret Currie had already confessed their guilt, and in their confession implicated another individual, Janet Bell.
Janet Bell had some status within the community. She was ordered imprisoned in one of her homes (she was the owner of several houses in Aberdour). When news of her arrest reached Lord Morton, he ordered her to be released. The session, according to Ross, resisted this order sending the minister to ‘inquire on what grounds his Lordship had given this order’.57 The resolution of the dispute was that Lord Morton was forced to allow Janet Bell to be imprisoned, but made it clear that the session was responsible for the manner in which Bell and the other i
mprisoned women were treated. It was at this point in the proceedings that the witch-pricker arrived on the scene. Although we know neither the details of the pricking itself nor the fate of these women, there is a further note that Janet Bell had, in her confession, named another woman, Susanna Alexander, as a witch.58 Given these circumstances, it seems plausible to argue a connection between the social status of Bell and the need to acquire the services of a professional witch-finder. Put simply, because she was of some social standing it was essential that her guilt be confirmed. The witch-finders role was thus not to begin the hunt (which was already underway), but to maintain it at a critical juncture when a crack within the solidarity of the elite began to appear.
We have already discussed another situation where a witch-finder served, not to trigger a witch-hunt, but to sustain one which was already underway. That hunt began in April of 1649 and had spread to five cases before the presence of the witch-finder is noted.59 Interestingly, the hunt began not with the arrival of a witch-pricker but with the accusations of a confessed warlock in Dalgety. This individual had been warded and watched in order to obtain his confession and receive information about his various accomplices.60 Thus while we have clear indicators of the presence of professional witch-finders in Fife, it seems evident that they were not the primary driving force behind the hunt itself. The key lies in that apparently subtle form of ‘torture’ which Larner and others have noted as important – sleep deprivation. To understand how important this method was, it is useful to return in some detail to the case with which we began this chapter, the story of what happened in Balmerino in 1649 and 1650.
To tell the rather complicated account of what occurred following the original accusations it is best to take each of the individual participants in turn. Helen Young, who had confessed she was a witch, died of sickness on January 18th, 1649, only nineteen days after the original incident was brought before the presbytery. Given her sudden end, we need to ask what caused her to confess to being a witch. Was she ill and hallucinating? Was it spite at the end of her life to name two women and call them witches? We can only guess as to her motives. What we do know is, despite the fact she seems not to have accused either Helen Small or Elspeth Seath of anything specific the presbytery conducted in-depth investigations.61
This was not surprising for each of these women had a dubious reputation within her own community. Helen Small of Monimail’s reputation was particularly striking. She had already appeared before the session of Monimail in 1644 because she was long suspected of various incidents of witchcraft. These stories, told again in 1650, told of a series of conflicts with neighbours which had taken place over the years. For example, once she sent a ‘stoupe of barme’ (a cup of some kind of broth, or soup) to Thomas Mackassie, to be given to him while he was sick. He later died. In another incident, Helen had a dispute with Alexander Arthur’s wife. She became ill. Alexander confronted Helen with this. His cow died, but immediately his wife became better. Another story was told of how when John Skirling had passed Helen on the road, she had cursed him and he had later died.62 Witnesses came before the presbytery who gave testimony which supported these claims. Other witnesses appeared accusing her of various acts of malefice or saying they had heard rumours that she was a witch.
Helen Small herself appeared, on more than one occasion, and denied the charges. Yet, it was clear that she had been aware of the rumours. Indeed, after ‘some shifting answeres’ under interrogation by the presbytery she admitted to knowing of them. When asked why she had not tried to have these rumours stopped, she answered that she ‘could not stope their mouthes, and God would reward them’. She denied all charges. The last we hear of the case is on February 1st, 1650, when the session of Monimail produced its process which was somewhat vague in its particulars. It was sent back to the session. Helen was to appear before the presbytery whenever cited. Her subsequent fate remains unclear.63
Elspeth Seath’s situation was more complicated and thus, because these complications were recorded, fascinating. Like Helen Small, she was brought before the presbytery of Cupar and questioned. On March 15th, Andrew Patrick gave testimony that at the beginning of autumn two years previously as he was coming home between 11:00 and 12:00 at night, he saw seven or eight women dancing ‘with a meckle man in the midst of them’. His story became confusing at this point but it seems that they saw him, then took him to the little lake by which they were dancing, and put him into it up to his shoulder blades. The only one of the women he recognised, he informed the presbytery, was Elpeth Seath. He claimed to have recognised her voice. It was she who told the others to let him go as he was only a ‘silly drunken larde’. He ran home wet.64
Andrew Patrick did have to try to explain to the presbytery what exactly he was doing out that late at night. He stated that he had gone out to the tailors, and while there, he had sent out for a quart of ale, which he had then consumed. Yet the controversy that raged was not over this, but over who he had in fact claimed to have seen at this loch-side soiree. In his appearances before the presbytery, Andrew Patrick claimed to have only recognised Elspeth. Others heard him state that he also saw Helen Swyn and Isobel Troylus. Great effort was expended to determine who, in fact, Andrew Patrick had claimed to have seen at the loch that night. (Particularly great effort was expended by Helen Swyn and Isobel Troylus, both of whom seemed to have had some status in the community, to make sure their names were not drawn into this matter.) In the end and despite credible testimony that Patrick had indeed mentioned other names, only Elspeth Seath’s name was accepted.65
In the midst of their investigation into Andrew Patrick’s claims the presbytery ran into a major obstacle to their further enquiries. By June 14th the presbytery had received back a response from the Justice in Edinburgh66 that they did have enough evidence against Elspeth Seath to incarcerate and question her. Further, they were given a warrant. But, the Magistrates in Cupar would not put Elspeth in prison. They were not convinced, despite assurances, that the parish of Balmerino was going to pay the costs. Instead, they offered to incarcerate Elspeth Seath in the thieves hole. This was not acceptable to the presbytery. They wanted her kept in close confinement, with no one able to harm her or see her but the presbytery.67
While this dispute dragged on, Elspeth appeared before the presbytery and was accused of being a witch. She was accused of cursing one of Jean Bruice’s cows, which would not eat for four days. Jean had then gone, found Elspeth, and had her place her hands on the cows sides. Elspeth had done this and said the words ‘lamby, lamby, yee wil be well enough’. The cow recovered. Jean Bruice was also the first person to accuse Elspeth of something else, something very odd: she stated that Elspeth ‘used to sitt down in the way when she mett any body’. The next witness, Isobell Oliphant, claimed that one of her cows ate some thatch from Elspeth’s house. In the dispute that followed, Elspeth had struck the cow and then cast a spell on it. The cow had died. Isobell claimed she did not say anything about this. Instead, she charged that it was Elspeth herself who had spread the story. The strange comment about Elspeth sitting down at the gate was again repeated.68
Several other witnesses were called, each of whom had similar stories to tell. The entire testimony of the last witness, Isobel Black, consisted of the charge that Elspeth used ‘ordinarily to hurch down in the gate lyk a hare’. All of these charges Elspeth denied. At this point the case stalled. Testimony had been given. The evidence had been denied.69 The presbytery continued to try to get the officials in Cupar to incarcerate Elspeth. The presbytery promised that they would appoint some people to watch her at their own expense. Again, they were offered the thieves hole. The presbytery tried to get the central government to force the officials in Cupar to give way, but they failed. On December 6th, Elspeth appears for the last time before the presbytery. Because the town of Cupar ‘wold not assist in warding and watc
hing the said Elspet,’ she could not be tried. She was told to appear again, if called.70 As a footnote, the case does not seem to have ended here. In April of the next year, 1650, there is a brief mention of Elspeth in the records of the Synod of Fife. It stated that there would be an appeal from all of the pulpits of the presbytery of Cupar for more evidence against Elspeth Seath. What, if anything, happened next we do not know.71
Neither Helen Small nor Elspeth Seath confessed to being a witch and, despite the quantity of evidence of malefice and bad reputation that each had, neither was convicted as a witch. Why? The lack of confession seems to have been vital. And it was the inability of the clergy and magistrates in Balmerino, a small parish on the Tay Coast, to force the magistrates in the nearest major centre, Cupar, to incarcerate Elspeth Seath in circumstances acceptable to them, that made the difference. Why did the presbytery continually refuse the offer of the thieves hole? Why was the town of Cupar so concerned about the expenses of incarcerating Elspeth Seath in the manner demanded by the presbytery? It seems what the presbytery was attempting to do was ‘ward and watch’ Elspeth. For this, as they themselves stated, particular conditions were required, not only in terms of space, but the necessity of keeping her in close confinement: ‘. . . and put hir in a close prison, wheir none might have accesse to hir, and that they wold appoint some to watch hir upon hir [their?] own expense’.72 Without this ability to confine Elspeth under these conditions, no confession was possible: no confession, no confirmation that she was a witch.
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