Witches of Fife

by Stuart MacDonald

  What little direct evidence we have for misogyny in Fife can be deduced from protests surrounding a sermon preached by Mr. James Symsons of Kirkcaldy in 1650. While not directly related to witchcraft, the sermon was preached while witch-hunting was occurring. Mr Symsons’ text was Leviticus chapter 12. The complaint brought before the presbytery of Kirkcaldy was that while preaching on the text

  he did fall in these expressiones giveing a reason wherefoir the tyme and dayes of the uncleannes of women after a maid child is langer than thair separation after a man child and is twyse so long because the superfluitie of issue is twyse so much as after the other so Hippocrates. 2. Wherefoir women were subject to that infirmities and issue of blood, moir than beasts and other creatures: answer – because it is Gods judgement and punishment on them for thair sinne.

  When modest heirers wer blushing at this he said Hold up your heads and heir the good word of God it is not the word of Moses nor man.54

  Symsons’ seeming contravention of the rules of ‘modesty’ in this exposition and a further one dealing with Psalm 8, as well as other alleged shortcomings in his ministry, brought this matter to the presbytery’s attention. How representative Symsons was in seeing women as particularly sinful is uncertain. Yet in considering these ideas preached in a sermon, we are discussing educated views and elite, even if local elite, conceptions of women. It is important to remember that the communities themselves seem to have identified women as witches and if the populace were not responsible for initiating the hunts, they clearly had strong ideas as to who the witches in their community were. Those witches were primarily women.

  Another way of determining how strong the equation of woman was with witch is to briefly discuss those who were not – the thirty-two male witches of Fife. The charges against some of these individuals, for example Archbishop Sharp, were clearly political in nature. Others were essentially charmers or cunningmen who somehow found themselves facing more serious accusations as a witch or warlock. One, William Coke, was the male equivalent of his troublesome wife, suspected as a purveyor of misfortune and malefice. In other cases, we know far less, having only a name. Were males accused as witches more likely to be included in large scale hunts? Or were they solitary figures?

  On the whole, men tended to be named during witch-hunts which were already underway. Of the known male witches fifteen were swept up in not only years of hunting, but in the geographic areas where the hunts were taking place. One, Thomas Jamieson of Kirkcaldy, was the husband of one of the women accused that same year (1597) in Kirkcaldy. Unfortunately, the relationships of the other male suspects is uncertain. Many of those accused, both in panic years and in more normal circumstances, were accused as soothsayers or charmers. Of those named in normal years, these include Alexander Drummond who had been incarcerated in Edinburgh, William Hutchen, John Patowne, Patrick Stewart, and William Drysdale. Andro Carmichael’s name appears in 1677 when he and his wife charge another person before the session with slandering them with an accusation of witchcraft. Of those caught in the hunts, John Wastwater and Adam Donaldson of Culross, and the unnamed brewer from Dunfermline were all accused as soothsayers or charmers. Only three individuals begin to come close to our stereotypical female witch: William Coke, William Chrictoun and Robert Maxwell. All three were executed. William Chrictoun was a vagabond and in his confession did make mention of being in the Devil’s service. Robert Maxwell was originally brought before the session of Dalgety for his ignorance and something which looked suspicious. Maxwell was warded, confessed to being in pact with the Devil, then named another male John Murdoche, as also being the Devil’s servant. What is fascinating about these three cases is how unusual they were. Most of these men accused of witchcraft were swept up (as, incidentally, was Maxwell) in panic years. Males could be understood as charmers or cunningmen, could (if they were vagabonds) be summarily dealt with, but only in the panic years when the definition of ‘witch’ was expanded do they appear in any number and yet even here they remain few. Witches were overwhelmingly perceived to be female, with some confusion in that already discussed grey area between witch and charmer.

  Several scholars have pointed out that we are not only dealing with gender in these circumstances, but also with age, marital status and class.55 The traditional stereotype of a witch as an old, isolated, possibly ugly, and poor female has shown itself to be correct in many of the countries of Europe. For Fife, the data on marital status is inconclusive as the ‘unknowns’, which number 361, far outweigh the other categories of married (41), single (2), and widows (16).56

  There is simply not enough evidence of either ‘age’ or social class to make any quantitative comparisons. Some of the accused clearly were older women. Agnes Wallace of Crail confessed to having been in the Devil’s service for forty-three years, while Katherin Sands, arrested in Culross in 1675, was charged with being a witch for over thirty-four years. Interestingly, in other cases there is an indication that the accused was young. Issobell Adam of Pittenweem and Alison Balfour of Byre-hill were both noted as being young. In 1644 William Moresoune appealed his wife Margaret Young’s imprisonment noting ‘she is ane honest young woman of good reputation without anie scandall or blot’.57 Whether Margaret Young’s youth was considered as a significant proof, as important as her good reputation, that she was not a witch is unclear. Or, the fact that youth is mentioned may be an indication of how unusual it was to have a young woman accused of witchcraft. Many of those accused as witches in Fife were older women, but we do not know how old they were nor can we make any definitive statement about the role age played in accusations.

  The evidence for the social class of Fife witches is also sketchy. William Moresoune, the spouse of Margaret Young, was a merchant burgess in Dysart, a man of some stature.58 Janet Bell of Aberdour owned several houses.59 We also know that some of the wives of the Inverkeithing bailies were suspects in 1649. Still, both these situations involved an ongoing serial hunt, one that potentially had moved beyond the usual suspects to include others of more status in the community. One of the local histories of Inverkeithing notes the tradition that some wise suspects intentionally named the wives of the bailies and elders, in order to put a stop to the hunt.60 The hunt continued despite the fact that women of some status were being sought, still the idea that the hunt intentionally moved away from the usual suspects to include those of some wealth and high social status is a fascinating one. Interestingly, one of the women caught up in this hunt who one would assume to have been herself wealthy, Margaret Henderson, Lady Pittathro, was poor and lived on the fringe of the community.61 Those with some status might be named during the periods of intense hunts, but at other times, the scant information we have suggests that those sought as witches tended to be poor.

  Our evidence for the poverty of those accused in Fife is fragmentary and anecdotal. Elspeth Seath’s sitting down in front of the gate and blocking people’s passage may have been an attempt to extort charity. Whatever the intent, it clearly annoyed the community. Isabell Dairsie was without means. Dorothy Oliphant and William Crichton were both vagabonds. Isobell Kelloch lived on the estate of Lady Callender. When the latter refused to pay the costs of her incarceration, the money was taken from the poor box. There are other references to moneys disbursed to support ‘poor’ witches who had been held in ward. Of the three executed in Culross in 1675, Katherin Sand’s brother had cheated her out of her inheritance, Isobell Inglis’s fields were not as profitable as her neighbours, and Agnes Hendrie ‘had not wherewith to life’. These misfortunes were seen as the reasons why these women had entered the Devil’s service. While not conclusive, the poverty of many of those accused of witchcraft is noteworthy.62

  An exception may be Marion Grig who was tried before the presbytery of Kirkcaldy in August 1638. Marion Grig was owed money by some in the community. Her difficulties
came, as we noted briefly in the chapter six, when she attempted to collect these debts. A tale similar to the one recounted by William Marshall, was told by James Rodger and his spouse:

  they being aughtand to hir 4sh 6d she come to thair house and craved them veri harlie for it and stood up aht the fire long, and they bid hir goe away bod thse wold not leave, and that same nyt he took ane sickness and would not lye in the bedd bot becom madd ane the fit took him becours, and he could not byd it, and his speache whent from him and he thought his breathe was goeing away, and he said Yon theife hes done me evil and for Gods saik goe to hir and his wyff went to hir and sought his helth from hir, for Gods saik, thryse, and brought hir with hir, and the paine being aff him he besought hir, for Gods saik to help and ease his paine . . .

  After returning and striking him with a cloth, Rodger recovered.63 The small amounts owing, in each case 4s/6d, and the effort put into trying to have this money repaid is interesting. Had Marion’s status declined to the point where she was now poor enough to need this money? The village tensions are evident, as is the belief that the harsh words spoken could lead to an illness, an illness which the individual who had so spoken could remove.

  Despite the fact that we have had to construct a picture based upon fragmentary information, it still remains clear that the stereotypical image of the witch was dominant in Fife. The Fife witch was female, old and poor. This stereotype broke down somewhat during the major hunts, but remained remarkably steady. Communities knew who their ‘witches’ were. The most remarkable thing about the hunt which spread through Cupar Presbytery in 1662 was not how many individuals were involved, but how few. Even in the last witch hunt which occurred in 1704 in Pittenweem, the stereotype held. This also involved the only documented lynching of a witch in Fife.

  The events in Pittenweem were in many ways unique. They were known and publicized at the time through a series of pamphlets which took very different interpretations of the events described.64 These pamphlets, as well as the session records of the time, give us some indication of what occurred in this small burgh on the south-east coast of Fife within the presbytery of St. Andrews. The role of an adolescent accuser, reminiscent of a series of witchcraft allegations made in 1695 in Paisley, sets this case apart. The author of one of the pamphlets, writing under the name a Gentleman from Fife, stated his firm belief that the minister of Pittenweem had actually read the pamphlets concerning the Bargarran case to Patrick Morton, the adolescent affected in Pittenweem. The author of ‘True and Full Relation’ vehemently denied this charge. The unique nature of what occurred, however, suggests similarities not only with the events in Paisley, but also with the Salem, Massachusetts hunt of 1692 and the massive hunt in Sweden in 1677.65

  Events began when Patrick Morton, the sixteen year old son of a smith, became convinced that he had been bewitched by Beatrix Laing. He claimed that one day in March while working on some nails he was approached by Beatrix Laing who asked him to make some nails for her. When he refused, Beatrix left ‘muttering some threatening expressions’. Soon thereafter Patrick became ill, and when walking by Laing’s house he saw a ‘small vessel full of Water and therein a Coal of Fire Slockned in the Water’ and became convinced that he had been bewitched.66 As his health continued to decline, he made his suspicions known. Beatrix Laing, and several others were incarcerated. Beatrix soon confessed, and implicated others in the area as witches. Various accounts of what happened in order to bring Beatrix Laing, Isabell Adam, Nicolas Lawson and Janet Cornfoot to confess themselves as being witches are given. The accounts agree that no confessions were made before these individuals were arrested. The author of An Answer described drunken guards keeping these women awake ‘by pinching and Pricking some of them with Pins and Elsions’, the result of which was that they remained without sleep for several days.67 A Just Reproof, a reply to An Answer which claimed to set the record straight, admitted there was some ill-usage at the beginning, but this was quickly stopped by the minister and magistrates. Beatrix Laing’s own complaint issued a year later to the Privy Council gives her account of what she experienced:

  because she would not confess that she was a witch and in compact with the devill, was tortured by keeping her awake without sleep for fyve days and nights together, and by continually pricking her with instruments in the shoulders, back, and thighs, that the blood gushed out in great abundance, so that her lyfe was a burden to her; and they urging her continuallie to confess, the petitioner expressed several things as they directed her, to be rid of the present torture; and because afterwards avowed and publicly told that what she had said to them of her seeing the divell, &c., was lyes and untruths, they put her in the stocks for several dayes, and then carried her to the thief’s hole, and from that they transported her to a dark dungeon, wher she was allowed no maner of light, nor humane converse; and in this condition she lay for fyve months together . . .68

  Those who confessed named others, so that when the Privy Council was approached for a commission to try these witches on June 1,69 seven individuals were being held as suspected witches in Pittenweem.

  Prior to the appeal for a commission, the kirk session examined Isabell Adam, Beatrix Laing, Nicolas Lawson and Janet Cornfoot. All had by this point confessed ‘ther compact with the Devil, renouncing their baptism and being at meetings with the Devil’ and others. The decision of session was to take this matter to the presbytery, which dealt with it on June 14, 1704.70 At this meeting, Janet Horesburgh and Lillias Wallace each denied she was a witch, even though Janet Cornfoot and Nicholas Lawson claimed to have seen them both at one of the meetings. (Presbytery spent time making sure there was no malice between these various women.) Beatrix Laing was also examined. While acknowledging she had been responsible for the charm that Patrick Morton saw, she denied ever seeing the wax picture which allegedly had been made. Beatrix’s admission to a ‘pact’ with the Devil was also qualified by her claim that she had only seen the Devil once upon the moor when he appeared in the shape of a black Dog which she had stroked. Other than this once, she claimed never to have seen him. When asked about the incident on the moor when she saw the Devil in the shape of a Black Dog she stated she knew it was the Devil,

  Because he changed his shape. And she being asked if the Devil had caused her renounce her Baptism? She answered, yes, and that it was upon Coves Moor.71

  Janet Cornfoot and Isobell Adam admitted not only to entering into a pact but also to being at many meetings.

  A Privy Council warrant to hold a trial was issued on June 3, the day before this meeting of the presbytery. The details of the case were outlined in the warrant and permission was given to try the case. In late July, the decision of the Lord Advocate that the trial should be in Edinburgh is recorded.72 No record of this trial seemingly exists,73 yet both the author of An Answer and Cook claim that the sheriff of Fife, the Earl of Rothes, was not satisfied with the evidence presented and had all of the women released.74 This result seems to have been unsatisfactory to many in Pittenweem. On January 30, 1705 Janet Cornfoot was returned to the village from which she had apparently escaped. Here she was lynched by a mob. Janet Cornfoot was dragged from a house, taken to the harbour where the mob either tried to swim her or tied her to a rope stretched between a ship and the shore and pelted her with rocks (accounts and interpretations of these events vary), then dragged her back into the street where she was pressed under a door on which heavy stones were laid until she died.75

  The blame for these events was a topic of discussion at the time. The author of An Answer clearly blamed both ministers and magistrates, while the author of A Just Reproof not only argued the minister was uninvolved, but claimed that those responsible were not locals. On February 15, 1705 the Privy Council heard from a committee of enquiry into this murder. Those involved were named, including four held in prison, as well as some who had fled. A process was ordered into the failure of the
magistrates to keep the peace in the burgh.76 Yet no one was ever taken to trial for this lynching. Furthermore, the bailies of the town refused to take out a bond of peace in order to protect Beatrix Laing.77 The session remained firm in its conviction that these women should have been brought to trial.78 The only admission that there were problems related to these events in 1704 and 1705 came in October 28, 1710 when William Bell, one of the former bailies, stated ‘I am convinced of the rashness, illegality and unwarrantableness of our proceedings, having proceeded on idle stories’ and that Morton ‘was then labouring under a melancholy distemper’. The statement was made as a result of an action brought by Janet Horseburgh for her wrongful imprisonment.79

  As the last major outbreak of witch-hunting in Fife, the events of Pittenweem in 1704–05 demonstrated how strong the stereotype of ‘witch’ remained, even as some members of the elite moved away from the very concept that there might be witches. Witches were women. More than that, witches were older and generally outcast women. These women may have lived on the fringes of their village or town as a result of their poverty, their sharp-tongue, or some other idiosyncratic behaviour, but their communities knew them, sometimes even feared them, as witches. The definition of the crime of witchcraft was elastic, and generally far more concerned with acts of magic (good or evil) than with pacts with the Devil. Even those involved in acts of healing or charming ran the risk of being accused as witches. Consulting with charmers and witches was also considered an activity worthy of the kirk’s interest and discipline. It was generally only during those occasions when serial hunts occurred that the stereotype of the witch broadened to include women who did not fit the stereotype and men. Witch-hunting was, as Larner suggested, woman hunting. Debate will continue to rage as to what is the precise meaning of this reality. The society of sixteenth and seventeenth century Scotland was patriarchal. Keith Brown’s recent article ‘The Laird, his Daughter, her Husband and the Minister’ explored how a ballad interpreted the events surrounding the murder by a wife of her husband. The husband, an older man, was known to have beaten Jean Livingson. Yet in the ballad Jean was portrayed as sharp-tongued, and to an extent deserving of the ill-treatment she suffered at the hands of her husband: