Witches of Fife

by Stuart MacDonald

  If elite conceptions of the witch such as the sabbat and demonic pact were not central to the ‘success’ of witch-hunting, elite solidarity was. While the clergy were the dominant force behind the hunts, they needed the assistance of the other members of the elite. When this solidarity was intact witch-hunting flourished. When it crumbled, no amount of pressure from the clergy seemed capable of altering this reality. The session at Pittenweem continued to believe in 1705 in both the existence of witches in their community and the necessity of putting them to a proper trial:

  The Session thought moot here to narrate that after the presbytery cited the woman arraign’d for witch-craft before them, these processes were never return’d back to the session; their confessions are particularly mention’d in the Presbytery-book; and tho’ application was made by the Presbytery, Session & Magistrates to those who were impowered by Law to give a commission for the judging of these witches, yet they could never obtain it; and so they escap’d punishment.63

  Yet it was not always the central government or the judiciary which put the brakes on a witch-hunt. The refusal of the bailies of Cupar to incarcerate Elspeth Seath in 1648 prevented a conviction in that case. In Crail, no one would seek a commission against Geillies Robertson. By the end of the hunts, these splits had become dominant. In many ways the change had little to do with a disbelief in the reality of witchcraft, but a change in the certainty with which people were convinced they could determine that a particular individual was a witch. The cautions and restriction on warding after 1662 may have been a significant contributing factor. Yet individuals were still being warded into the early eighteenth century. The difficulties of obtaining commissions to put the confessed witch to a trial was the key factor in the decline of witch-hunting in Fife, for without being able to move to a trial the entire costly process seemed a waste of time. The lack of success would also make the populace less likely to testify. Splits among the elite were thus central to the decline of witch-hunting in Fife. Therefore, the answer to that very puzzling question, ‘what caused the witch-hunt in Scotland to end?’, seems to lie in the breakdown in the solidarity of the elite towards witch-hunting. Belief in witches remained. What had changed was a distrust of the ways of identifying a particular individual as a witch. Witch-finders and witch-prickers had been discredited. Certain kinds of witnesses who had previously been believed now faced scepticism. This scepticism did not have to be widespread. For witch-hunting to result in prosecutions all of the various groups within the elite had to stand together. Once they ceased to, convictions were unlikely. The failure to successfully convict witches also meant that the populace was less likely to produce names when asked. The end of the witch-hunting was thus, as we’ve seen, not dramatic but gradual.

  Belief continued in witches long after formal processes and trials ceased. Yet the question still remains, why were the clergy and church so interested in hunting witches? Simplistic notions that they were merely following a text from the Bible or the spirit of the times are inadequate. What we need to do is see this aspect of church interest and concern within the context of the church’s larger interest in discipline and the creation of a godly society.64 Church courts prosecuted many offences other than witchcraft. For example, the kinds of cases which came before the presbytery of Kirkcaldy in the five year period from 1645 to 1649 can be seen in table 2.

  Table 2 – Kirkcaldy Presbytery, discipline cases, 1645–49

  (Source – Presbyterie Booke of Kirkcaldie)65

  The abundant concern for sexual behaviour is clearly evident. For example William Smith was brought before the session in January of 1646 ‘trelapse’ (third time) for fornication.66 The parade of those found ‘guilty’ of this offense in 1647 was noticeable. Sometimes as in the case of William Orrock and Elspeth Arnott, it was clearly spelled out who the various partners were,67 but the majority of those who appeared in this and other years were women. Obviously pregnancy was a major way in which the session discovered that a young woman had been sexually active. It also would have been one of the ways in which adultery was discovered. Yet, the ability of members of session to be aware of whatever scandalous behaviour was seemingly going on was truly remarkable. Even those who were members of the elite found themselves before the session on the grounds of sexual offences. In March 1646 the Laird of Balmuto was ordered to satisfy the discipline of the session of Auchterderran for fornication between he and Katherin Symson. The Laird resisted, but was forced to comply with the presbytery’s orders by late May. It should be remembered that these are the cases that made it to the presbytery: many such offences would have been dealt with simply at the level of the kirk session.

  The category ‘Other Sexual’ covers a variety of concerns on the part of the session. Infanticide was suspected in 1645 and 1649. William Bolton’s wife was suspected of giving Isobell Arnott a concoction of herbs to drink in order to induce an abortion in April of 1645.68 That same year the dead child of Marion Henrison was baptised, but Marion was forced to ‘find caution that if it sallbe proven heirafter to have been otherway in that caise she sall satisfie accordinglie’.69 In September 1649 the presbytery noted that Jean Weyms was thought to have murdered the child she bore and was a fugitive from the session of Wemyss in Holland. The presbytery approved of the diligence of the session in trying to have her brought back, and appealed for assistance from two of the local lairds.70 Janet Jolie was forced to do penance on the stool in Leslie for her ‘whorrishe behaviour’ while Helen Millar was forced to appear not once but twice for her scandalous behaviour with a soldier in 1648. In the last incident she was found naked in her bed, and as she had ‘relapse[d] in fornicatioun befoir’ she was ordered to do a six months of penance on the stool of repentance, the last three weeks in sackcloth.71 Even sexual behaviour that was suspected, yet not proven, was prosecuted. Alexander Wilson and Catherine Thomson were charged with ‘slanderous behaviour of adulterie’. They admitted to the ‘slander’ but denied any action.72

  Such attempts to regulate sexual behaviour are difficult for twentieth century people to imagine, yet the power which church courts were able to wield in this period was truly remarkable. The presbytery of Kirkcaldy not only prosecuted what might be deemed as ‘moral offences’ but moved far beyond this to regulate peoples lives. This control extended down to the right to marriage. The minute of September 17, 1645:

  The Presbyterie grants [William Kay’s] desyre [for marriage] upon conditioun that after his mariage he shall return to his service [in Balcarres troopers] whilk he promeises to doe. Anent Helen Wood whose husband was killed at Tippermore the Presbyterie thinks that she may have the benefit of mariage.73

  Controlling whether or when a widow may remarry is powerful control, even more powerful when it is remembered that any sexual activity outside of marriage was likely to be prosecuted. Even a marriage breakdown was considered the presbytery’s responsibility. Andro Birrell and his wife Grissell Page were living apart in July 1647. Andro was willing to reconcile but Grissell did not wish to ‘goe home to him or byde with him’. The presbytery ordered her ‘to goe home and remain with hir husband betwixt this and the first meiting of the Presbyterie, or else they will proceid aganest hir with the censures of the kirk’.74 For failing to live together after three separate warnings they each were declared ‘contumacious’ or defiant.75

  The control church courts attempted to exercise extended beyond sexuality to a wide range of human behaviour and belief. The church was particularly adamant that Sunday remain a time in which no work or pleasurable activity was enjoyed. Henry Christie was charged with refusing to come to communion, while Margaret Bennet was accused of not coming to communion for two years because she was not reconciled to her neighbour.76 Robert Durie faced similar charges. His refusal to be reconciled had its origins in a lawsuit a
nd he requested extra time to solve the problem.77 John Paterson was ordered to abstain from selling alcohol on Sundays.78 James Dick was ordered to do public repentance for being drunk on the communion sabbath.79 The most serious complaint was against those who worked in the salt industry who were known to work on Sundays, and thus raised the ire of the church. On October 14, 1646 the presbytery stated that as the salters so frequently worked on the sabbath even after having done public repentance, the punishments would be doubled and they would be suspended from communion until proof was given of their ‘reall reformatiuon’. The presbytery believed this was necessary ‘for the terror and shame of such impudent and obstinate offenders’.80

  The presbytery’s understanding of how the sabbath should be marked was made clear in a statement made in January of 1647 which is worth quoting at length:

  The Presbyterie considering the great profanatioun of the Lords day notwithstanding the former acts maid aganest the profancer thairof doe thairfoir judge it necessarie to mak particular enumeratioun of such profanatiouns as were most cowmon within the bounds of the said Presbyterie, and not expressed in former acts such as goeing about any civill business, abroad in other congregatiouns or at home in thair owne upon the Lords day, the setting of horses for hyre or travelling homewards with these horses that have been sett the goeing to taverns or alehouses betwixt or after the sermons with the towns or places of people ordinarie residence, and for all others the drinking of that which is beyond necessairie refreshment or mis-pending time lairglie sitting and tippling beyond the time necessarie for the refreshment and this to strik aganest the sellers of the drink as weill as the buyers thairof in manner foirsaid, the vaiging abroad, sitting or walking idle upon the streets and fields whereby the sanctifying of the Sabbath in families is uttelie neglectit and the occassioun of idle and worldlie conference fostered.81

  Penalties were then outlined for breaking any of these conditions. The third offence brought suspension from communion.

  Beyond breaking the sabbath in all and sundry ways, offenders were charged with a multitude of offences. Fighting with the minister or elders, cursing one’s son, and misbehaviour on the stool of repentance by answering back were all dealt with.82 Margaret Adamson of Kirkcaldy was ordered to make repentance for the ‘mocking pietie under the new name of Puritanisme’.83 Political speech was also prosecuted. Henrie Vertie was ordered in 1645 to carry some ammunition from Burntisland to Falkland. He refused. He was called to appear before the presbytery for stating, after it had been told to him that this was God’s cause, that it ‘is the Devills caus’.84 Henrie Vertie was someone who attempted to defy the presbytery, refusing to come when called to appear, but eventually he did appear before that body.85 The victory over Montrose at Philliphaugh was celebrated as a day of thanksgiving.86 In 1649 the salter William Graham was forced to do penance for his ‘blasphemous speeches’. He had stated that ‘he knew not whidder the sojours wer fighting for God and the King, or for the Devill and the Ministers’.87 Such opinions were prosecuted. Graham had to do public penance.

  The strong support for the Covenanting army and cause which is clear in the presbytery minutes throughout this period, came to a head after the fall of the Engagement. Numerous members of the laity were called before the presbytery to answer for their support of the Engagement. (These ‘offences’ were not listed in Table 8.1. Indeed the presbytery’s concern for this matter may explain why there were fewer sexual offences brought forward in 1649.) On January 17 Robert Kirkcaldie of Grange was allowed to submit to the covenant and receive communion as nothing had been proven against him.88 On March 7, several officers in the former army appeared, asking ‘to be reconciled to the kirk and be admitted to the covenant and communion’. They were accepted.89 Not everyone was treated so leniently. Sir John Mackenzie also asked in March to be allowed to subscribe to the covenant. He admitted that he had raised a regiment for what the presbytery referred to as ‘the lait unlawfull engagement,’ an action which he now regretted. His case was forwarded to the General Assembly.90 Other engagers were accepted in August and the remainder of the year, many after having confessed their wrongdoing in supporting the previous regime: ‘Compeired George Low in Kirkcaldie declaired his sorrow for his accessione to the laite unlawfull engagement’.91 The adjective ‘sinful’ was often used to describe this government.

  It is within this context in which everything from political thought to sexual behaviour was under scrutiny and control, that allegations of witchcraft were heard. This context is vital. All forms of behaviour were considered the business of the church courts, and attempts were consciously made to transform behaviour. As well as the allegations of witchcraft from this presbytery already discussed in chapter 6, major concern was expressed for an incident of charming in 1646. On March 11 a sailor named David Wood appeared and confessed that he had ‘turned the key’ in Kirkcaldy. The charm was outlined: one placed a key in a Bible and read the eighteenth verse of Psalm 50 – ‘When thou savest a thief, then thou consentedst with him, and has partaken with adulterers’ (KJV) – then named all those who sailed in the ship. When the name of the individual suspected (apparently as a thief) was read, if that person was guilty the key would turn. David Wood taught the charm, however, as something that was done whenever one of the ships company was ‘wanting something’. The incident came to the presbytery’s attention because Andro Allan had apparently wanted some money and had sought out people who could help him obtain it. David Wood admitted to teaching the charm, but not taking part in the exercise in the house of Margaret Law.92 He eventually confessed to both teaching and practising the charm. Janet Dick was also found guilty of turning the key in order to get gold from James Kininmonth.93 While the line between such attempts at folk magic and witchcraft was often vague, both were prosecuted before the church courts and were a significant element in the church’s attempt to enforce discipline, both of action and thought.

  The concern for ‘discipline’ displayed by Kirkcaldy Presbytery in this period was not unique or atypical. On April 30, 1645 Thomas Bonar was brought before St. Andrews Presbytery for singing a song and drinking to the health of ‘Bobo Finla’ (a mysterious figure, but possibly King Charles). Bonar admitted to singing the song which he learned (he would not say where he had learned it) in Edinburgh, but denied knowing who ‘Bobo Finla’ was. The presbytery decided to refer the matter to the General Assembly, but in the meantime to have him incarcerated by the magistrates of St. Andrews or have them arrange sufficient cautioun (bail) so that Bonar would appear when called again.94 Johne Moreis was brought before the presbytery in 1643 for ‘takeing upon him to heale the Cruelles (scrofula) by touching them, as the seventh sonne of a woman’.95

  In the midst of their concern in the case of Elspeth Seath and Helen Small, the presbytery of Cupar dealt with the issue of those who had supported the Engagement.96 The years 1649 and 1650 saw some of the greatest interest in discipline, with the Synod of Fife ordering all presbyteries to seek out those who celebrated ‘the Yuile day’, or went to ‘wellis denominat from Saintis’, or took secret oathes or used ‘the Meason word’,97 but this was merely an intensification of concerns expressed throughout the entire period. The presbytery of Dunfermline had an act against all people feasting and celebrating Yule (Christmas) read from their pulpits in 1640.98 At the end of our period while concerns for witchcraft were ongoing, the session of Pittenweem continued to hear traditional discipline cases. Someone must have been counting months, for it was decided that Sophia Powtso’s child had been conceived before she and her husband had been married. After some initial denials, the husband confessed to ‘uncleanness before marriage’ and both were sentenced to be publicly rebuked.99 Cases of attempted rape and possible infanticide also appeared before the sessi
on in the early eighteenth century.100

  The prosecution of witchcraft has to be understood within this context of a broader attempt to shape the values and beliefs, the attitudes and behaviour of a society. The attempt was to create a ‘godly’ society, godly defined by the clergy and church courts. In this sense Larner is correct, witches were ‘enemies of God’; yet, only one of many enemies. And it was not only demonic theory or supposed alliance with Satan which made the witch the enemy. Cures and charms, the ability to heal, and all of these folk practices were deemed inappropriate, evil, and were to be eradicated. The intensity of the concern for witches might change over time, but its eradication was always part of a broader attempt to fundamentally change popular culture. John Di Folco has defended the role which church courts played in their exercise of discipline: