CHAPTER 12 - The Delation of Margaret Rammage

‘PLEASE READ Margaret Rammage’s confession, Mr Rankine,’ said the minister from a wooden chair beneath the pulpit.

A thin man cleared his throat and began to read from a book lying on the small desk in front of him. Rankine had taken considerable care with the entries, which were based on a ream of notes written as Rammage was questioned over a number of occasions. She was now burned to dust, praise be to God. Satan was diminished. He had written a summary of what she had said, before copying it into the book in a neat hand. The work had given him great pleasure. He was serving God. He was assured of eternal bliss as one of the Elect. Satan had tempted him often. A vision of his sister as a sixteen-year-old girl came to him. He experienced a threatened hint of arousal. At least he was tempted less as the years passed. He had fought many battles with the Devil. Now he found her old body repulsive. His erection eased. A place was his in Heaven, despite his sinful life. He was assured of God’s grace.

In a slow serious voice, he began: ‘“The following is the free and voluntary confession of Margaret Rammage, servant of Janet Cranstoun in Aikenshiels, written by Theophilus Rankine, session clerk of Lammersheugh.”’

He waited for a moment to indicate that the words following were not his, but those of the witch:

‘“I declare that two years ago I was in bed in the house of my mistress, when she woke me and told me that I must speak to a gentleman. She brought me to the hall where I saw a man dressed in black. He was tall and handsome. He wore a hat with a black feather in it. He smiled when he saw me. He took me in his arms and kissed me. He had no breath. He was cold like stone. Nothing more happened that night.

‘“The next night when I was going to bed the Devil came to me again. My mistress was not there. He brought me to the fireplace in the hall, where he forced me to lie with him. He told me that I must be his servant.

‘“Two weeks later my mistress took me to the Blinkbonny Woods to a meeting with the Devil and other witches. We danced and sang and drank strong liquor. I renounced my baptism, putting one hand over the crown of my head and the other under the sole of my foot. I delivered all that was between my hands unto Satan. He gave me a new name, calling me Jenny. He lay with me in the woods, heavy as a horse on top of me, his penis cold within me like fresh well-water.

‘“My mistress Janet Cranstoun was present at this meeting. There was also Marion Campbell, Helen Laing, Katherine Russell, Hugh Black, Margaret Bannatyne, Isobel Dodds, Jean Maxwell, Elspeth Dargie, Catherine Cass, Andrew Love, Bessie MacHimson, Janet Hastie, Marjorie Durie, Margaret Gourlay, Agnes Pride, James Breadhead, Barbara Moncrieff, Helen Deans, John Sinclair, Beatrix Leslie and Bessie Melrose. There was a lady in a green velvet dress wearing a mask. From her voice, I knew she was Lady Lammersheugh. Her daughter Euphame Hay, a thin girl in a fine scarlet dress, was also present.”’

There was a sigh from an elder in the front pew. ‘Euphame Hay was not mentioned in the previous confession,’ said Cant, shocked to hear her name.

‘That is right, sir. Rammage told us that she had forgotten to give a full list of those in attendance the first time she was questioned. Katherine Russell, Margaret Bannatyne and Isobel Dodds were also missing from her first confession.’

‘Are you certain that the name of Euphame Hay was provided by her, Mr Rankine?’

‘I am, Mr Cant. I asked her the very same question. Did I not Mr Muschet?’

‘You did, Mr Rankine,’ replied another elder.

‘Please continue,’ said the minister.

‘“There were other meetings with the Devil in the woods, and also at the Lint Hauch and the Weird Haugh. When we went to them, we were sometimes in the shape of crows and sometimes in the shape of magpies. Sometimes we went in our own shape. Sometimes the Devil appeared to us as a great dog.

‘“I was with many witches at the contriving of the death of the child who was the daughter of Katherine Haliday and her husband William Hair. We made a painting of the bairn which we roasted over a fire. The next week the child fell ill and died.

‘“On the night of 12 August in the year of God 1681 we dug up the body of an unbaptised bairn and cut off its arms and legs. Andrew Watson made a pie from it, so that we might eat it and by this means never confess to our witchcraft.

‘“I went three times widdershins naked about Andrew Thomson’s house. We cut one of the legs off a mole, put it in a box and buried it outside the threshold of Agnes Pogavie’s home.

‘“We fashioned a clay figure of a child to kill the Laird of Wedderlaw’s eldest son. We stuck pins into it. The boy died a month later.

‘“I am guilty of divination, of looking into the years to come, which is contrary to the law of God.

‘“At our meetings the woman in the green dress sat next to the Devil, serving him as we ate. He was like a stallion after mares with us and sometimes like a man, very eager for carnal copulation at all times, and we desirous of him. We called him Black John.

‘“On one occasion he commanded us to open three graves in the kirkyard of Lammersheugh and cut the joints of fingers, toes and knees from the corpses. We divided them amongst us. He told us to keep the joints and to make a powder of them to do evil with.

‘“I confess to carnal relations with the Devil in many places throughout the parish. I did fly in the sky. I changed my form into that of a cat.”’

Rankine was briefly silent, allowing what he had read to sink in.

‘“The Devil turned towards us and we went unto him. We did worship him lasciviously, touching him with our hands as he bid us. We took his manhood within our mouths. His discharge was blood. Two women held back; one was dressed in a fine green gown with a mask over her eyes. She had authority over the rest of the witches and warlocks. The green gentlewoman was Lady Lammersheugh. The other was her daughter Euphame Hay. Vile words came from their lips, ordering us to do things to Satan. She told us that we should lie with him in the position of beasts...”’

One of the elders rose, eyes burning feverishly: ‘Shame on the witch. Shame on her!’

Rankine was exhilarated as he read the last extract from the minute book:

‘“We made a painting in the likeness of Lady Girnington at the bidding of Lady Lammersheugh and roasted it with brandy over a fire in the Blinkbonny Woods.”’

He indicated with a slight nod of his head that he was finished. The minister rose to his feet. ‘Thank you, Mr Rankine. Our parish is infected with much evil. As minister I am obliged to do all I can to root out such vile sin. There is clearly enough evidence to take Euphame Hay into custody for questioning.’

Trying to restrain his excitement, Rankine added, ‘I have heard that Kincaid is back from the West. His services can be secured for a small fee.’

The minister hesitated. He had not anticipated the use of such a man.

‘It may supply the final piece of evidence, Mr Cant. Provide a watertight case for the High Court. Kincaid is well known for his skills. He will seek out the Devil’s Mark.’

‘So be it, Mr Rankine. Let it be put in the minutes that a vote was taken on whether to employ Kincaid to prick Euphame Hay.’

‘All those in favour?’ The hands of Muschet and Rankine rose. The minister reluctantly followed suit. He had doubts about the use of such a man. They always appeared as a witch-hunt began, sniffing out the prospect of easy money. But what troubled him particularly was that Kincaid was beneath him. He was not a man of God.