Prologue
TUESDAY, JUNE 25, 1591
EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND
MORNING
The woman with less than an hour to live does not accept her fate.
Dame Euphame MacCalzean prays silently in her dirty prison cell. She is the mother of two boys who died in infancy and three grown daughters. Not yet forty, a Catholic and woman of means, she kneels in a thin dress, the fabric offering no padding against the cold rock floor. Her hands are soon to be bound in tight thick rope for her ride to the burning stake. Jailers will parade her up Castle Hill, there to be executed.
Effie’s fervent prayers belie a simple truth: she is not guilty. She stands accused of possessing dark power and promoting the vilest evil—even casting a spell on twenty-five-year-old James VI himself, king of Scotland. The king will leave behind a great legacy, including the first royal postal service and commissioning a translation of the Bible that will be named in his honor. Yet he is terrified of witches, convinced they are trying to kill him and his young Danish bride. He has authorized the prosecution and torture of all such women.*
Justice plays no role.
Edinburgh is a center of manufacturing, known for its fine wool. The growing city is a filthy, hardscrabble town of twenty thousand. A great castle rises on a steep hill at the city center. Much of the Scottish capital is a chaotic mess, rife with typhus, cholera, and bubonic plague. Cattle walk the streets. Existence is hard. Death comes easily and too young. Streets are cobbles, cold mud, and trenches where residents dump chamber pots from high windows to the warning cry of “Gardyloo!” *
Entertainment is scant, though always a welcome diversion from the grind.
Such as today.
The Royal Mile is crowded with townspeople making their way up the southern slope of Castle Hill on foot and in carts. Most witch burnings are held on Wednesday, which is thought to fetch a larger crowd. But even on this Tuesday, there is no lack of spectators. Many want to be part of the show, clutching dry timbers to throw on the flames. It is a noisy, excited procession, forming a ring on the castle esplanade around the tall stake to which Effie will be tied, then set alight.
There are rumors His Majesty will be in attendance.
In fact, James is here in the Scottish capital on this bright summer morning. Wife, Anne, teenaged queen of Denmark, travels at his side. The paranoid ruler will not attend the execution and has the power to pardon his subject.
But James is determined to rid his kingdom of Satan’s spell.
So Effie MacCalzean must burn.
Sixteen days ago, Dame Effie was charged with twenty-eight counts of sorcery, including “bewitching two children to death, attempting to murder her husband, attending four conventions of witchcraft, and sitting next to the devil himself—while handling a wax image of King James.”
Dame Effie’s trial is the talk of the town. The prospect of a mother of three young women being tried for witchcraft is a salacious scenario—one that provides diversion and even amusement.
The man who has ruined Effie is David Seaton, a court magistrate living on the edge of financial catastrophe. He is also her brother-in-law. After Seaton’s brother, Patrick Moscrop, marries Effie in 1579, things go bad in a hurry. Effie is known to be unfaithful and not in love with her new spouse. Within twelve months of their nuptials, she allegedly attempts to kill her husband with poison—though succeeds only in making his face break out in spots.
Effie MacCalzean is never charged with attempted murder. Her hapless husband, fearing for his life, flees to France. Eventually, Seaton takes revenge. In 1590, the magistrate arranges for a young twentysomething maidservant named Geillis Duncan to be arrested on the charge of “acting strangely”—code for being a witch. This is an easy accusation for an officer of the court. Under questioning, Ms. Duncan denies having anything to do with witchcraft. Then the interrogation becomes more intense. According to court documents, she is stripped naked and shaved from foot to head, and her thumbs are crushed with screws known as pilliwinks. A rope is then wrapped tightly around her head and twisted until her neck almost snaps, a slow torture known as “wrenching.”
As this painful drama plays out, a birthmark, which authorities consider a “devil’s mark,” is found on Ms. Duncan’s naked torso. She finally confesses. Humiliated, hands mangled, her face a mask of rope burn, she capitulates and begins listing a variety of men and women she considers to be witches and warlocks conspiring against the king. At the top of the list is Effie MacCalzean. After her confession, Geillis is thrown into the dreaded Old Tolbooth Prison, where she will soon die of deprivation.
But Geillis Duncan will outlive Dame Euphame MacCalzean.
Effie is imprisoned in May 1591. Her trial begins on June 9. Scottish law demands Dame Effie be provided a defense. Six legal advocates represent the wealthy woman, yet each knows her fate is preordained. No member of the fifteen-man jury is mad enough to defy the king—particularly when it is well known that James has taken a special interest in Effie’s fate.
The accused is the illegitimate daughter of Thomas MacCalzean, an aristocrat possessing vast land holdings outside Edinburgh. He recognized her as his legal heir in 1558, when she was a young girl. Upon his death in 1581, Effie became owner of Thomas’s estate. If she is executed, her substantial inherited lands will, by law, go directly to the Crown. Effie’s own daughters have no legal standing. So, while King James VI is terrified of witches taking hold of his soul, he has no issue with gaining control of Effie’s lands, haunted as they may be.
Effie MacCalzean’s trial lasts four days.
The unanimous verdict is guilty.
James is delighted to hear it.
The time has come. Her jailer approaches. Effie stands. She is barefoot. Her eyes blaze with fear. The condemned woman is led to the cart that will take her the short, steep distance up Castle Hill. Effie does not resist. Her executioner says nothing. If he is afraid the Devil will make him pay for ending Effie’s life, he does not show it.
The journey to the stake begins.
The crowd is close, clamoring for the moment when smoke will rise, followed quickly by flames. Then the screaming. The audience can’t wait. Many have never witnessed something like this. In most Scottish witch executions, the victim is tied to the stake, then strangled to death. After which the fire is lighted. It is believed a witch’s dead body will continue to cast spells unless destroyed by flames.
But Effie MacCalzean will not receive that mercy. She will be burned alive.
So it is that Effie is now tied to the stake.
The executioner lights the pyre with a torch. The crowd is hushed, but not for long. They roar as one when Effie panics at the first puffs of flame and smoke. She is an agent of the Devil, after all, so the crowd has no problem cheering as she struggles against her binds. But then the sight of a human being burned alive becomes all too real. The smell of scorched flesh overwhelms the aroma of woodsmoke. Parents put protective hands on the shoulders of their children. Still, few turn away. Effie is an example: this is what happens when you associate with the Devil.
The flames rise.
Effie MacCalzean screams, a piercing shriek unlike any the spectators have ever heard. She begins suffocating from the smoke. Extreme pain sends her body into shock. Within five minutes, she will be dead.
Her tunic burns easily. So does her hair. Effie’s screaming diminishes, then stops.
The spectators remain transfixed. What was once a woman is now charred flesh. Her eyes have melted. Her face is no more. The audience is disappointed that King James has not attended. But as the crowd walks down the hill, the people are satisfied. Smoke continues rising into the air. Conversations are hushed. Justice has triumphed over evil in Scotland. The witch is dead.*
But the Devil is not.
And soon, he will be on the move.