The Succubus

By E. Lynn Linton

William Barton, a loose-lived man of notoriously strong passions, was apprehended for witchcraft. His confession included the not very frequent Scottish element of a Succubusa demon under the form of a beautiful woman who beguiled him, and to whom he made himself over for love and gold. She baptized him under the name of John Baptist, gave him her mark, and fifteen pounds Scots in good gold as Tocher-money; and then they parted. When he had gone but a little way she called him back and gave him a mark to spend at the Ferry, desiring him to keep the fifteen pounds safe and unbroken. At this point in his confession the poor wretch was weary, and asked leave to go to sleep; which, for a wonderful stretch of humanity, the judges granted. Suddenly he awakened with a loud laugh. The magistrates asked why he laughed?and he said that during his sleep the devil had come to him, very angry at his confession, and bidding him deny all when he awoke, for he should be his Warrand. After this he became obdured, and would never confess anything again; the devil persuading him that no man should take his life. And even when they told him that the stake was set up and the fire built round, he only answered, he cared not for all that, for, said he, I shal not die this day. How should he if no man was to kill him? Upon this the executioner came into the prison, but fell stone dead as he crossed the threshold. Hastily the magistrates offered a reward to the executioners wife if she would undertake her husbands office, and strangle the poor mad fellow before he was burnt; which she agreed to do, for all that she was in great pain and grief; clapping her hands and crying, Dool for this parting my dear burd Andrew Martin! When the warlock heard that a woman was to put him to death, he fell into a passion of crying, saying that the devil had deceived him, and let no man ever trust his promises again! Bartons wife was imprisoned with him. On her side she declared that she had never known her husband to be a warlock; he on his that he had never known her to be a witch: but presently the mask fell off, and she confessed. She said that malice against one of her neighbours had driven her to give herself over to the devil, that he had baptized her by the name of Margaratus, and taken her to be very near to him; a great deal too near for even a virtuous womans thoughts. When asked if she had found pleasure in his society, she answered, Never much. But one night, going to a witches dance upon Pentland Hills, he went before them all in the likeness of a rough fanny dog, playing on a pair of pipes. The spring he played, said she, was The silly bit chicken, gar cast it a pickle, and it will grow mickle; and coming down the hill they had the best sport of all: the devil carried the candle and his tail went, ey wig wag, wig wag! Margaratus was burnt with her husband.