Chapter III: Part 3

After this, the minister and the gentlemen arose and went to the place whence the voice seemed to come, to try if they could see or find any thing. After diligent search, nothing being found, the gentlemen began to say, “We think this voice speaks out of the children, for some of them were in their beds.” The spirit answered, “You lie, God shall judge you for your lying, and I and my father will come and fetch you to hell with warlock thieves;” and so the devil discharged the gentlemen to speak any thing, saying, “Let him speak that hath a commission, (meaning the minister) for he is the servant of God.” The gentlemen returning back with the minister, sat down near the place where the voice seemed to come; and he opening his mouth, spake to them after this manner, “The Lord will rebuke this spirit in his own time, and cast him out.” The devil answering, said, “It is written in Mark, chap. ix. that the disciples could not cast him out.” The minister replied, “What the disciples could not do, yet the Lord having heightened the parent’s faith, for his own glory, did cast him out, and so shall he thee.” The devil replied, “It is written in Luke, chap. iv. that he departed and left him for a season.” The minister said, “The Lord in the days of his humiliation, not only got the victory over Satan in that assault in the wilderness, but when he came again, his success was no better: for it is written, John xiv. Behold, the prince of this world cometh and hath nothing in me, and being now in glory, he will fulfill his promise,—and God shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly,” Rom. xvi. The devil answered, “It is written, Math. xxv. There were ten virgins, five wise and five foolish, and when the bridegroom came, the foolish virgins had no oil in their lamps, and went to the wise to seek oil; and the wise said, go and buy for yourselves; and while they went the bridegroom came, and entered in, and the door was shut, and the foolish virgins were sent to hell’s fire.” The minister answered, “The Lord knows the sincerity of his servants, and though there be sin and folly in us here, yet there is a fountain opened to the house of David for sin and uncleanness; when he hath washen us from our sins for his name’s sake, he will cast the unclean spirit out of the land.” The devil answered and said, “Sir, you should have cited for that place of scripture, Zech. xiii. and he began at the first verse, and repeated several verses, and concluded with these words: “In that day I will cause the prophet and unclean spirit pass out of the land;” but afterwards it is written, “I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered.” The minister answered and said, “We know that our blessed shepherd was smitten, and thereby hath bruised thy head. And albeit in the hour of his sufferings, his disciples forsook him, Matth. xxvi. Yet now having ascended on high, he sits in glory, and is preserving, gathering in, and turning his hand upon his little ones, and will save his poor ones in this family from thy malice.” The minister returning back a little, and standing upon the floor, the devil said, “I knew not these scriptures till my father taught me them.” Then the minister conjured him to tell whence he was. The foul fiend replied, “That he was an evil spirit come from the bottomless pit of hell to vex this house, and that Satan was his father.” And presently there appeared a naked hand, and an arm from the elbow down, beating upon the floor till the house did shake again, and also he uttered a most fearful and loud cry, saying, “Come up, my father, come up; I will send my father among you; see there he is behind your backs.” Then the minister said, “I saw indeed a hand, and an arm, when the stroke was given and heard.” The devil said to him, “Saw you that? it was not my hand, it was my father’s; my hand is more black in the loof.” “O (said Gilbert Campbell) that I may see thee as well as I hear thee!” “Would you see me (says the foul thief) put out the candle, and I shall come butt the house among you like fireballs. I shall let you see me indeed.” Alexander Bailie of Dunragged says to the minister, Let us go then, and see if there be any hand to be seen. The devil answered, “No, let him come then alone; he is a good honest man, his single word may be believed.” About this time the devil abused Mr. Robert Hay, a very honest gentleman, very ill with his tongue, calling him witch and warlock. A little after, the devil cries (it seems out of purpose and in of purpose) “A witch, a witch, there is a witch sitting upon the ruist, take her away;” he meant a hen sitting upon the balk of the house.—These things being past, all went to prayer, during which time he was silent; prayer being ended, the devil answered and said, “If the goodman’s son’s prayers at the College of Glasgow did not prevail with God, my father and I had wrought a mischief here ere now.” To which Alexander Bailie of Dunragged replied, “Well, well, I see you confess there is a God, and that prayer prevails with him; and therefore we must pray to God, and commit the event to him.” To whom the devil replied, “Yea, Sir, you speak of prayer with your broad lipped hat, (for the gentleman had lately gotten a hat in the fashion with broad lips) I’ll bring a pair of sheers from my father which will clip the lips of it a little.” Whereupon he presently imagined that he heard and felt a pair of sheers going round about his hat, which caused him lift it to see if the foul thief had meddled with it.

During this time, several things, but of less moment, passed; as that he would have Tom a merchant, Rob a smith, John a minister, and Hugh a lawyer, all which in some measure came to pass. As to Janet the goodman’s daughter, he cries to her, “Janet Campbell, Janet Campbell, wilt thou cast me thy belt?” Quoth she, “What a widdy wilt thou do with my belt?” “I would fain (says he) fasten my loose bones close together with it.” A younger daughter sitting busking her poppies, as young girls use to do, being threatened by the fiend, that he would ding out her harns, that is brain her, She answered, without being concerned, “No, if God be to the fore;” and so fell to the work again. The goodwife of the house having brought out some bread, was breaking it to give every one of the company a piece. He cries, “Grisel Wyllie, Grisel Wyllie, give me a piece of that hard bread, (for so they call their oat-cakes) I have gotten nothing this day, but a bit from Marrit;” that is, as they spake in that country, Margaret. The minister said, “Beware of that; for it is a sacrificing to the devil.” The girl was called for, and asked, if she gave him any hard bread? “No,” says she; “but when I was eating my due-piece this morning, something came and clicked it out of my hand.”

The evening being now far spent, it was thought fit, that every one should withdraw to his own home. Then did the devil cry out fearfully, “Let not the minister go home, I shall burn the house if he go;” and many other ways did he threaten. After the minister had gone forth, Gilbert Campbell was very instant with him to tarry, whereupon he returned, all the rest going home. When he came into the house, the devil gave a great gaff of laughter. “You have now, Sir, done my bidding.” “Not thine,” answered the other, “but in obedience to God have I returned, to bear this man company, whom thou dost afflict.” Then did the minister call upon God. And when the prayer was ended, he discharged the weaver, and all the persons of the family, to speak a word to the devil; and when he spake, that they should only kneel down and pray to God. The devil then roared out mightily, and cried out, “What, will ye not speak to me? I shall strike the bairns, and do all manner of mischief.” But after that time no answer was made to him, and so for a long time no speech was heard. Several times he hath beat the children in their beds, and the claps of his loof upon their buttocks would have been heard, but without any trouble to them. While the minister and gentlemen were standing at the door, ready to go home, the minister’s wife and the goodwife were within; then cried Satan, “Grisel, put out the candle.” Says she to the minister’s wife, “Shall I do it?” “No; (says the other,) for then you shall obey the devil.” Upon this he cries again with a louder shout, “Put out the candle.” The candle still burns. The third time he cries, “Put out the candle;” and no obedience being given to him, he did so often reiterate these words, and magnify his voice, that it was astonishing to hear him, which made them stop their ears: they thinking the sound was just at their ears; at last the candle was put out. “Now, (says he) I’ll trouble you no more this night.” I must here insert what I heard from one of the ministers of the presbytery, who, with the rest, 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, considering 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 Nisbet, 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 till 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 the 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 Oct. 1655, namely Whether to forsake the house or not? The synod, by their committee, appointed to meet to Glenluce in Feb. 1656, thought it fit that a solemn humiliation should be kept through all the bounds of the synod; and, amongst other causes, to request God on 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 door-posts, and at other times hid it under the beds, and sometimes among the bed-clothes, and under the lines, and at last did carry it quite away, till nothing was left there save bread and water.—This minds me of a small pasage as a proof of what is 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 her, 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 want all. 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 them, 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 will 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.——Thus I have written a short and true account of all the material passages which occurred. To write every particular, especially of lesser moment, would fill a large volume. The goodman lived several years after this in the same house; and it seems, by some conjuration or other, the devil suffered himself to be put away, and gave the weaver a peaceable habitation. This weaver has been a very old man, that endured so long these marvellous disturbances.

XII.—_Anent Mother Jackson her Witchcraft._

This story hath as much certainty with it as any human story can have. The author that writes it is a famous minister of the gospel, and it is attested by famous witnesses. This woman was arraigned and condemned at Newgate, for bewitching one Mary Glover, a merchant’s daughter in Thames Street. One Dr. Boncraft did inform Judge Anderson, then lord chief justice, That the said Mother Jackson was wronged; and that the maid did counterfeit; whereupon the lord chief justice gave orders to Sir John Crook, then recorder of London, to make trial of them in his chamber at the Temple. The maid being sent for, came with her mother and divers of the neighbours; and about an hour after the witch was sent for, and was brought in disguised like a country-market woman, with a mufflet hiding her face, and an old hat, and a short cloak spattered with mire. When she entered the chamber, the maid suddenly fell down backward upon the floor, with her eyes drawn into her head, her tongue towards her throat, her mouth drawn up to her ear, her body be came stiff and senseless. Her lips being shut close, a plain and audible voice came out of her nostrils, saying, “Hang her, hang her.” Then did the recorder cry for a candle, and a sheet of paper, and held the paper flaming to her hand, till her hand did blister; the blister did break, and water came out which dropt down upon the floor, the maid lying still and senseless as a dead body, with the voice coming out of her nostrils, saying, “Hang her, hang her.” Then the recorder called for a long pin, which he held in the flame of the candle till it was very hot, and thrust the head of it into her nostrils, to see if that would make her sneeze, wink, or bend her brows, or stir her head, which she did not, but lay still as one dead and senseless. Then I told the recorder (said my author), that I had often prayed with the maid, and that when I did conclude with the Lord’s prayer, the maid, as soon as I said, “but deliver us from evil,” was tost up and shaken, as if a mastiff dog should take a little cur into his mouth and shake him. Then the recorder bade the witch say the Lord’s prayer, which she did, till she came to these words, “but deliver us from evil,” which she skipt over, and would by no means be brought to say them. Then they bade her rehearse the articles of the Christian faith, which she did till she came to these words, “our Lord,” that Jesus Christ was our Lord. I told the recorder also, that when the maid was in her senseless and dead fits, if the witch did but lay her hand upon her, she was tost and thrown towards her. Thereupon the recorder caused the maid to be taken up and laid upon a bed, and clothes to be laid upon her, especially her head, because she should not see nor hear. Then he made signs to the women to stand round about the bed, and that the witch should stand among them, and that every one should lay hands upon her softly, which they did; and the maid did not stir till the witch laid her hand upon her, then all the clothes were thrown off and the maid tost towards her. Whereupon the recorder, looking upon the witch, said, “Lord have mercy upon thee, woman!” and sent her to Newgate. Then as soon as she was gone, the voice that came out of the maid’s nostrils ceased, and she came to herself; and went home with her mother. About three weeks or a month after the witch was condemned, the maid continued every second day in most strange and fearful fits and torments. The recorder hearing of it, did blame me and all the ministers of London; and told me, That we might all be ashamed to see a child of God in the claws of the devil, without any hope of deliverance, but by such means as God hath appointed, viz. fasting and prayer. Within few days after, it pleased God to make me an instrument to draw five ministers, and other good Christians together, to set apart, and to join with me in that holy exercise, wherein we continued from morning till after candle lighting. Then on a sudden, after a fearful conflict, which did much amaze some, and caused them to cry with a confused noise, “Jesus save, Jesus help,” the maid did start out of a wand chair, where she sat, and with her strength did lift me up with her. I kneeling behind her, and holding her in my arms, she did throw white froth out of her throat and mouth round about the chamber, and on a sudden fell down into the chair as one truly dead, with her head hanging down into the chair, her neck and arms limber and souple, which before were stiff as a frozen thing; then suddenly life came into her whole body, and her eyes, which were drawn into her head, and her tongue, which was pulled into her throat, came into their right place. Then she looked up with a cheerful countenance round about the chamber, and with a loud voice spake, saying, “O he is come, he is come, the Comforter is come, the Comforter is come, I am delivered.” Her father hearing these words, wept for joy, and with a faultering voice, said, “O these were her grandfather’s words when he was at the stake, the fire crackling about him.” It seems he died a martyr in Queen Mary’s time. Then she kneeled down, and offered a sweet evening sacrifice of thanks and praise to God for her deliverance, till her voice grew weak. Then did the minister speak to her to forbear, and let one of them end the day with thanksgiving. And in regard that I (said the minister) had begun the day with prayer, the company desired me to make it end with thanksgiving. This being done, care was had of her to put her to some minister for a year, least Satan should assault her again; and, by common consent, she was put to me; and I took her home to my own house for being my servant for that time, and her mother and sister, and lodged them at my house in great Saint Helen’s, which then was my living. This relation was published in the year 1642, by the minister, whose name is Lewis Hughes, and is yet to be seen in print.

XIII.—_King Duff, the 78th King of Scotland, bewitched._

Though this be well known to all who read our Scots Histories, yet it will not be amiss to insert it here, as in its own place, for their sakes especially who have not heard of it. While the king was about the settling of the country, and punishing the troublers of the peace, he began to be sore afflicted in his body with a new and unheard of disease, no causes of his sickness appearing in the least. At length, after several remedies and cures were made use of to no purpose, a report was spread, the authors thereof being uncertain, that the king was brought to that sickness and trouble by witches. The suspicion arose from an unusual sweating he was under, his body pining and withering away by little and little, and his strength failing day by day; and since all his physicians had done their utmost, and yet no appearance of recovery, it was supposed his case was extraordinary. Therefore all men being vehemently intent upon the event, news came to the court, that night-meetings were kept at Forres, a town in Murray, for taking away the life of the king. This was presently received and believed for truth, because no other thing did occur for the present more probable. Whereupon trusty and faithful men are presently sent away to one Donald, governor of the castle there, in whom the king had the greatest trust and confidence. This man having gotten some knowledge of the business from a certain young wench, whose mother was under a bad report of being skilful in this black art, found out and discovered the whole matter. The young harlot is taken, because she had spoken some words rashly anent the king’s sickness, and that within a few days his life would be at an end. Some of the guard being sent, found the lass’s mother, with some haggs such as herself, roasting before a small moderate fire, the king’s picture made of wax. The design of this horrid act was, that as the wax by little and little did melt away, so the king’s body, by a continual sweating, might at last totally decay. The waxen image being found and broken, and those old haggs punished with death, the king did in that same moment recover. Compare this with the first relation, and you will find them jump and agree exactly.

XIV.—_The Apparition of Edward Avon to his Son-in-law, Thomas Goddard._

Thomas Goddard of Marleburgh, in the county of Wilts, weaver, on the 9th of November 1674, going to Ogburn, at a stile on the high-way, about nine in the morning, met the apparition of his father-in-law, one Edward Avon of this town, glover, having upon him, to appearance, the same clothes, hat, stockings, and shoes he did usually wear when he was living, standing by, and leaning over that stile; which when he came near, the apparition spake to him, with an audible voice, these words, “Are you afraid?” To which he answered, “I am thinking on one who is dead and buried, whom you are like.” To which the apparition replied with the like voice, “I am he you were thinking on; I am Edward Avon your father-in-law: come near to me, I will do you no harm.” To which Goddard answered, “I trust in him that bought my soul with his precious blood, you shall do me no harm.” Then the apparition said, “How stands cases at home?” Goddard asked, “What cases?” Then it asked him, “How do William and Mary?” Meaning, as he conceived, his son William Avon, a shoemaker here, and Mary his daughter, the said Goddard’s wife. Then it said, “What? Taylor is dead; meaning, as he thought, one Taylor of London, who married his daughter Sarah; which Taylor died at Michaelmas last. Then the apparition held out his hand, and in it, as Goddard conceived, 20s. or 30s. in silver, and then spake with a loud voice, “Take this money, and send it to Sarah; for I shut up my bowels of compassion toward her in my lifetime, and now there is somewhat for her.” And then said, “Mary (meaning the said Goddard’s wife, as he conceived,) is troubled for me: but tell her, God hath shewed mercy contrary to my deserts.” But the said Goddard answered, “In the name of Jesus I refuse all such money.” Then the apparition said, “I perceive you are afraid, I will meet you some other time.” And immediately it went up the lane to his appearance; so he went over the same stile, but saw it no more that day. He saith, the next night, about seven of the clock, it came and opened his shop windows, and stood in the like clothes, looking him in the face, but said nothing to him. And the next night after, as Goddard went forth into his back-shop, with a candle in his hand, it appeared to him again in the same shape; but he being in fear ran into his house, and saw it no more then. But he saith, that on Thursday the 12th instant, as he came from Chilton, riding down the hill between the manor-house and Axford-farm-field, he saw somewhat like a hare crossing his way, at which his horse was frighted, threw him into the dirt, and as soon as he could recover on his feet, the same apparition met him there again in the same habit: and there, standing about eight foot before him in the way, spake again to him with a loud voice, “Source (a word he commonly used when living) you have stayed long,” and said to him, “Thomas, bid William Avon take the sword he had of me, which is now in his house, and carry it into the wood, as we go to Aiton, to the upper end of the wood, by the way-side, for with that sword I did wrong thirty years ago, and he never prospered since he had that sword. And bid William Avon give his sister Sarah 20s. which he received of me; and do you talk with Edward Laurence, for I borrowed 20s. of him several years ago, and did say I had paid him, but I did not pay it him; and I would desire you to pay him 20s. out of the money which you had from James Elliot at two payments.” Which money the said Goddard now saith was £.5. which James Elliot, a baker here, owed the said Avon on bond; and which he, the said Goddard, had received from the said Elliot since Michaelmas, at two payments, viz. 35s. at one, and 3l. 5s. at another payment. And it further said to him, “Tell Margaret (meaning his own wife, as he conceived) that I would desire her to deliver up the little money which I gave to little Sarah Taylor the child, or any one she will trust for it; but if she will not speak to Edward Laurence, persuade her; but if she still will not, then tell her that I will see her very suddenly; and see that this be done within a twelvemonth and a day after my decease, and peace be with you” And so it went away over the rails into the wood there, in the like manner as any man would go over a stile, to his apprehension; and so he saw it no-more at that time. And he saith, that he paid the 20s. to Edward Laurence of this town; who being present now, doth remember he lent the said Avon 20s. about twenty years ago, which none knew but himself and his wife, and Avon and his wife, and was never paid it again before now by this Goddard. And this Goddard further says, that this very day, by Mr. Major’s order, he, with his brother-in-law, William, went with this sword, and about nine o’clock this morning, they laid down the sword in the copse, near the place the apparition had appointed Goddard to carry it; and then coming away thence, Goddard looking back, saw the same apparition again in the like habit as before; whereupon he called to his brother-in-law, and said, “Here is the apparition of our father;” who said, “I see nothing:” then Goddard fell on his knees, and said, “Lord open his eyes that he may see it, if it be thy blessed will.” And the apparition, to Goddard’s appearance, beckoned with his hand to come to it, and then Goddard said, “In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, what would you have me to do?” To which it answered, “Thomas, take up the sword and follow me;” and so he took up the sword and followed the apparition about ten poles in length further into the copse, and then turning back, he stood still about a pole and a half from it, his brother-in-law staying behind at the place where they first laid down the sword; then Goddard laying down the sword upon the ground, saw something stand by the apparition like a mastiff dog of a brown colour. Then the apparition coming towards Goddard, he stept back about two steps; and the apparition said to him, “I have a permission to you, and a commission not to touch you;” and then it took up the sword, and went back to the place at which before it stood, with a mastiff-dog by it as before, and pointed the top of the sword into the ground, and said, “In this place lies buried the body of him whom I murdered in the year 1635, which is now rotten and turned to dust.” Whereupon Goddard said, “I do adjure you in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, when did you commit this murder?” And it said, “I took money from the man, and he contended with me, and so I murdered him.” Then Goddard asked him, who was confederate with him in the said murder? and he said, “None but myself was accessory thereto.” Then Goddard said, “What would you have me to do in this thing?” and the apparition said, “That is, that the world may know that I murdered a man, and buried him in this place, in the year 1635.” Then the apparition laid down the sword on the bare ground there, whereon grew nothing, but seemed to Goddard as a grave sunk in; and the apparition running further into the copse, vanished, and he saw it no more; whereupon Goddard and his brother-in-law, Avon, went away together, leaving the sword there. Avon told Goddard he heard his voice, and understood what he said, and heard other words distinct from his, but could not understand a word of it, nor saw he any apparition at all, which he now, being present, affirmeth; and all which the said Goddard then attested under his hand; and affirmed he will depone to the same when he shall be thereto required.

XV.—_Some Passages of God’s Providence to a godly Minister, in giving him full clearness concerning Bessie Graham, suspected of witchcraft._

She was apprehended about the end of August 1649, upon some threatening words she had spoken in her drunkenness to John Ranken’s wife in Kilwinning, whereupon the poor woman, ten days after, took sickness and died. She was imprisoned in the steeple for thirteen weeks, all which time I, the minister, repaired to her, but found her still more and more obdured; in all her discourses she was so subtle, that not only I could get no advantage by her words, but sometimes she made me think that she was an innocent woman; so that I was grieved for her hard usage, if it could have been helped, and had my own secret wishes she had never been meddled with. Yea, if she could have made an escape, I being innocent of it, I could have been glad; for I feared much, that all that we could get proven on her, would not have been a sufficient ground for the civil magistrate to give a warrant for putting her to an assize. Or, if they had given a warrant, I feared the assize would not condemn her, unless I had advised them thereto, wherein I was not clear, so that she would have been set at liberty, and I blamed for it by reason of my not advising the assize to condemn her. At this nick of time, one Alexander Bogs, skilled in searching the mark, came, being often sent for, and finds the mark on the middle of her back, wherein he thrust a great brass pin, of which she was not sensible, neither did any blood follow when the pin was drawn out. I looked upon this but as a small evidence in respect of what I found afterwards; yet this somewhat inclined the judges to send the process to Edinburgh, though there were small hopes of obtaining a commission for putting her to an assize. My fears deceived me; for I was informed that a commission was granted, though with difficulty: But here my strait was augmented; for the chiefest man in the parish refused to meet, professing he thought all that was proven on her were but clatters; and I was informed that others of the judges did say little less; however, I myself could not think her guilty: Yet if the assize had put her to it, I was not so clear to advise them, by reason that the things were proven but by one witness. This put me to many thoughts and prayers, wherein I did engage myself to God, that if he would find me out a way for giving me and the assize full clearness, either by her own confession or otherwise, I should remark it as a singular favour, and a special mercy. This resolution I did often reiterate, “Lord make me mindful of it.” After a short time providence brought to light an unexpected presumption of her guiltiness, which did convince me more than any of the rest. Upon Wednesday the 28th of November, in the evening, I went to exhort her to a confession, with Alexander Simpson the kirk-officer, and my own servant with me. After labouring with her in vain, we left her; but when I came to the stair-head, I resolved to halt a little, to hear what she would say. Within a very short space, she begins to discourse as if it had been to somebody with her. Her voice was so low, that I could not understand what she said, except one sentence, whereby I perceived she was speaking of somewhat I had been challenging her of, and she had denied. After she had spoken this, after a little while, I heard another voice speaking and whispering, as it were conferring with her, which presently I apprehended to be the foul fiend’s voice: but being uncertain, if those that were with me had heard it, so as they could give testimony concerning it, and not daring to ask them, least she hearing our whispering, should have spoken no more, I resolved to stand a little longer, she having kept silence a time, upon occasion as I thought of some little din amongst us, at our hearing of an uncouth voice; she began to speak again, and before she had well ended, the other voice speaketh as it were a long sentence, which though I understood not what it was, yet it was so low and ghostly, that I was certainly persuaded that it was another voice than her’s. Besides, her accent and manner of speaking was as if she had been speaking to some other; and that other voice, to my best remembrance, did begin before she had ended, so that two voices were to be heard at once.—By this time fear took hold on Alexander Simpson, being hindmost in the stair, and thereby he cries out. I did exhort him with a loud voice not to fear; and we came all of us down the stair, blessing God that had given me such a clearness in the business. They both who were with me declared, they had heard the uncouth voice both the times. Within a quarter of an hour I went up again, with two or three able men with me, and brought her down to the school, having placed six men to watch, where she remains at the time of my writing hereof, November 30, obstinate and obdured, and I fear she shall be so to her death.

_Some special Providence I observed in all these._

First, That however we knew nothing at our first apprehending of her, but only that she was of a bad report, and had some boasting words to John Rankin’s wife, after which she died shortly; yet partly more and more light brake up, until so many presumptions were proven on her, as the civil magistrate did judge it equitable to put her to an assize. Secondly, That Alexander Bogs came and found the mark upon her, at the very nick of time when there was an inclination to let her go free, which, though it did not say much, yet it was a mean to keep her still in prison. Thirdly, That a commission was granted upon more slender grounds than any which had been granted before; and that the Lord keeped up the greatest evidence of her guilt, until the commission was obtained, and the day for the assize appointed. Fourthly, That the commission being granted, I was in a great strait what to do, no less being presented to me than her blood-guiltiness, if I should advise to condemn her, and the sparing of an enemy to God, if I should not advise; this made the mercy in giving me so full clearing the more acceptable. Fifthly, That God did make all other means misgive which I did use, until he should clear me by these whereby more of himself was seen. Sixthly, That before he gave me clearing, I was made to engage myself to a special observation of his most remarkable providences towards me. Seventhly, That I had often thoughts to use the means of trying her, by going to watch in the night, if I could hear the devil and her conferring together, but was always hindered until this time having no such resolution when I was coming out from her, but only a present purpose to stand a little, not thinking to hear any thing of this kind; and if she had not presently begun to speak, I would have gone away. Eighthly, That I myself was present at the hearing of their conference; if it had been in any other, I would neither have been so fully satisfied myself, nor yet others who should hear of it. Ninthly, That not only I, but two with me, did hear also, which will make a legal proof. Tenthly, That I was borne up with courage all the time, acting faith in God, that the foul spirit should not do us harm, though he was so near unto us. Eleventhly, That I heard as much as did give full clearing that it was another voice, though I could not get any of the words understood. The Lord thinking it sufficient to loose me out of the strait, though he would not satisfy my curiosity. Twelthly, though I could not get the words understood, yet there was as much evidence, as made it clearly appear it was another voice than hers.

As, 1st, That we heard twice. And, 2dly, Three of us did so think. 3dly, That I was in courage, and so my judgment not jumbled by any fearful apprehensions. 4thly, That the accent and way of her discourse, and in what we did understand of it, was not after the manner how one regrets a thing to himself, but of one conferring with another. 5thly, That the other voice was to my certain hearing of a different accent from her’s, so hollow and ghostly, that it was as easy for me to put a difference between them in the mean time, as between the voice of a man and the voice of a child. 6thly, That to my best remembrance the uncouth voice began before she ended, so that two voices were to be heard at once. Lastly, A. Simpson understood their language, and afterward did depone the words judicially.——It is good (1) For folk to hold on in doing of duty, though they forsee unsuperable difficulties before they come to the end of it. Let a man go on till he come to the difficulty, and ere he come that far on, God will remove it. (2) ’Tis good in asking mercies to engage the heart to some duties of thankfulness, upon the granting them. (3) How zealous is the devil to get souls damned, that though he be of an excellent substance, of great natural parts, long experience, deep understanding, yet he will so far enslave himself to poor miscreant bodies as to be ready at their call, to discourse and keep company with them, that at the last he may get them. How serviceable and trusty soever the devil seems to be unto witches, yet he cares not to ensnare them at the last; for he could not but know that we were waiting on to hear him and her; so that he had on purpose entered into discourse with her, that she might be taken in the grin.

I come to some other remarkable passages concerning Elizabeth Graham before her death, giving evidence that she was most guilty of witchcraft, though she died obstinate, and would not confess. Upon Saturday night, November 13, she seemed to incline to a confession, and promised to William Watt, to tell me to-morrow after sermon all that was in her heart. At which time, I had none with me but William Watt. When I spoke with her, she regretted her mispent time, but especially her malice towards myself, which she affirmed the devil tempted her to. All which time she spake with a very low voice, that although I desired her to speak out, we could scarce hear her. Whereupon I inquired the reason why she was not able to speak louder? She replied, “That when she set herself to speak any thing that was for her soul’s good, she dought not get spoken.” These were her words. “But if she would scold and flyte as she used to do, the devil would give her strength enough to speak as loud as ever she did.” Within a little I posed her if she was guilty of witchcraft: She stared with her eyes by me, first to the one side, and then to the other; at which time, I certainly think that she saw the devil; for immediately after, she began to rail upon me, although she had confessed her malice at me was partly the cause of her greatest grief, and still as she went on in railing, her voice became stronger and stronger, till at last she spoke as loud as ever she did.

Upon Monday before noon, she was most bitter in her language. I posed her what grounds of confidence she had, if it would be well with her soul? She answered, “She had no grounds yet; for she had lived a wicked woman, and had not yet repented; but she hoped she would get heaven, and get repentance, and a change would be wrought in her; and though she was to live but a short while, she was sure of it, and that I would soon see it.” I thought in the mean time, she had spoken that in her rage. But after I perceived the devil and she had a further design in it, as appears by what follows. That same day afternoon, they came and told me, that she had fallen to pray, and had many gracious words, expressing her own vileness, and the sense she had of God’s mercy, and with tears: In which strain she continued till after supper. I came then to see her, at which time she was continuing still as before, aggravating her sin and guilt, and shewing her hopes of salvation, and desire to die. And all along, she had such pithy expressions, and Scripture so often, and plentifully cited, that I was put to wonder, considering that I ever had found her altogether ignorant of the grounds of religion, both before, and after she was put into prison.

After I had wondered at it a while, without speaking to her, considering what she had foretold so confidently before noon, I concluded in my mind, that it was a draught between the devil and her, to feign repentance in such an odd way, that we might be deceived; being made to think that she was not a witch, else she would confess it, seeing God had given her repentance.—Whereupon, seriously considering the matter, I posed her of guiltiness; she confessed all the particulars of the process, which did not certainly conclude her to be a witch; but the rest of the particulars she denied, as also the crime of witchcraft itself. However, she said, “She knew she would die, and desired not to live; and she thought we would be free before God of her blood, because that, however she was free, yet there were so many things deponed against her, that though it was hard for us to think otherwise of her than we did, yet she knew well enough her own innocence.” Thus I have written all those particulars, as I found them in the authentic record, written by the minister’s own hand. She was soon after executed, and died without any acknowledgment of witchcraft.

XVI.—_Anent the Apparition of Sir George Villiers._

Some few days before the Duke of Buckingham went to Portsmouth, where he was stabbed by Felton, the ghost of his father Sir George Villiers appeared to one Parker, a religious and sober man, who had been a servant to the said Sir George, but now to the Duke his son. He appeared to him, I say, in his morning chamber-gown, and charged him to tell his son, that he should decline that employment and design he was going upon, or else he would certainly be murdered. Parker promised to the apparition to do it. The Duke making preparation for his expedition, the apparition came again to Parker, taxing him very severely for his breach of promise, and required him not to delay the acquainting his son of the danger he was in. Then Parker the next day tells the Duke, “That his father’s ghost had twice appeared to him, and had commanded him, without any farther delay, to give him that warning.” The Duke slighted it, and told him, “That he was an old doting fool.” That night the apparition came to Parker a third time saying, “Parker thou hast done well in warning my son of his danger, but though he will not believe thee, go to him once more, however, and tell him from me by such a token, (naming a private token) which nobody knows but only he and I, that if he will not decline this voyage, such a knife as this is, (pulling a long knife out from under his gown) will be his death.” This message Parker also delivered the next day to the Duke, who, when he heard the private token, believed he had it from his father’s ghost. Yet, said he, that his honour was now at stake, and he could not go come back from what he had undertaken, come life come death. This message Parker, after the Duke’s murder, communicated to his fellow-servant Henry Celey, who told it to a reverend divine a neighbour of mine, (says my author) from whose mouth I have it. This Henry Celey has not been dead above twenty years; and his habitation for several years before his death, was at North Currie, but three miles from this place. My friend, the divine aforesaid, was an intimate acquaintance of this Henry Celey’s, and assures me he was a person of known truth and integrity.

XVII.—_Anent Hattaraick, an old Warlock._