James Robertson - The Fanatic

‘I am scunnert o the hail] affair,’ said John Eleis. ‘Sir George grew no weill again, as ye mebbe ken, at the start o the year, and you or I would hae pit it doon tae the rheumatics, or creepin age or some such thing. But this Jonet Douglas lass – who, mark this by the way, aw this while canna speak a word but seems tae ken Scots, English, French, Latin and a wheen ither leids when they’re spoken tae her – discovers the auld wife’s son John tae hae made a second doll oot o clay, and when they gang tae the cottage they find it where she tellt them tae look, ablow the bolster in his bed, wi three preens intil it. Noo they had kept the lass back at the door, sae she couldna be said tae hae laid the effigy there hersel, though it seems tae me she could easy hae been there in secret afore, she’s that flittery and daunerin. Sae they cairry John and his wee sister Annabel tae Sir George’s hoose, and tell him whit has occurred. And Sir George begins tae mend again.’

‘Why the sister?’ Lauder asked. ‘Whit was her pairt in it?’

‘Och, the usual thing, ye ken, when ye mix young lassies wi witchcraft. She’s jist aboot ages wi Jonet Douglas, and had a fit o the hysterics, sae they thocht she was possessed. And eftir they had worked on her for a while, of coorse, they discovered that she was possessed.’

‘By Satan?’

‘By a muckle black man wi cloven feet cried Maister Jewel, if ye please. Satan by anither name. Her mither made her lie wi him for the promise o a new coat. And this Maister Jewel had been comin intae see John at nicht tae, throu the windae, wi a rabble o witches at his back, and John kent the witches for his mither and three neibour wifes. He confessed under examination and then aw the weemun were taen and examined and they confessed. Weill, except Jean Mathie, she said she was innocent tae the last. They were aw burnt at Paisley, John and the fower weemun, but the assize spared Annabel, in their mercy and wisdom.’

‘Is it finished then?’ Lauder asked. ‘Or is there mair tae come?’

‘Mair,’ said Eleis. ‘I’ll no deave ye wi the details, but if there’s a witch in aw the west country, it’s the lassie Jonet Douglas. Sir George is seik again, and she’s castin aboot for anither effigy tae find, and I doot she’ll be successfu, for there’s a tide amang the folk that’s cawin her on. Oh, and here’s a thing: she has her voice back. Suddenly she’s able tae speak, and awbody’s bumbazed. She disna ken how she gets the information aboot aw thae witches, she says it jist comes intae her. But no frae the Deil, mind – she has nae correspondence frae him. I wish the doctors would examine her insteid o the folk she accuses – the limmer’s a richt wee miracle o intuition.’

‘She’s a gift tae the folk that want tae hunt witchcraft tae extinction,’ said Lauder. ‘That’s the trouble wi it – ye canna cry the dugs aff yince their bluid’s up.’

‘Oor freen John Prestoun is slaverin at the bit tae be involved,’ said Eleis. ‘If it comes tae a commission, which I doot it must, Prestoun will be hankerin for a place on it.’

‘He aye hankers,’ said Lauder dryly. ‘There’s no an advocate like him for pleadin for himsel. He fell in fast enough wi the royal edict against appeals, and he has the same enthusiasm for findin lanely auld weemun and licht-heidit lassies tae be witches.’

‘I hate these trials,’ said Eleis. ‘I wish I could keep awa frae them. But if I didna plead for the puir craiturs, there’s gey few ithers would – no wi ony conviction, leastweys, for ye canna get a less popular panel than a witch – and the likes o Prestoun would hae a clear road tae drive them tae slauchter. There’s an unpleasant mochness in the air this spring, cousin. That thick feelin afore the thunder breaks. I fear there may be a storm o witchery aboot tae burst upon us.’

‘It may be a fierce summer then,’ said Lauder. ‘Ye’ll ken better than I, but I hear the west is awash wi fanatics forby witches, that they haud their conventicles weekly on the moors, wi thoosans in attendance. Lauderdale’s patience must be near whummelt. He claps the recusant ministers in the jyle, but there aye seems tae be mair tae rise and tak their places.’

‘Like hoodie-craws amang the corn,’ said Eleis. ‘It’s the Archbishop that’s forcin that issue, though. Lauderdale, in himsel, disna care a docken where folk gaither tae worship, if they dinna threaten the stability o the land – that’s ma opinion, though of coorse he could niver say as muckle. But St Andrews sees the field-preachins as a slight tae his ain authority, and has pushed and pushed Lauderdale tae act agin them. Sae the conventiclers cairry weapons tae their prayers noo, and there’s some o them jist ettlin for a chance tae defend their cause frae the dragoons. Noo that’s whit Lauderdale canna thole, for it threatens him, and sae ye’re richt, John, skailt bluid will follow.’

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