the torture of the iron bars laid upon
her bare shins, her feet being in the stocks, as in the case of Margaret
Barclay." She endured this torture "admirably," without any kind of din or
exclamation, suffering above thirty stone of iron to be laid on her legs,
never shrinking thereat in any sort, but remaining steady and constant.
But when they shifted the iron bars, and removed them to another part of
her legs, her constancy gave way, as Margaret's had done, and she too
broke out into horrible cries of "Tak off! tak off!" She then
confessed--anything--everything--and was sentenced: but on the way to her
execution she denied all that she had admitted, interrupted the minister
in his prayer, and refused to pardon the executioner, according to form.
Her brain had given way, and they fastened to the stake a bewildered,
raving maniac. God rest their weary souls!

MARGARET WALLACE AND HER DEAR BURD.[22]

Margaret Wallace (1622), spous to John Dynning, merchant and citizen of
Glasgow, hated Cuthbert Greg. She had sent Cristiane Grahame to him,
wanting his dog; but he would not give it, saying, "I rather ye and my
hussie (cummer, gossip) baith was brunt or ye get my dog." Margaret,
coming to the knowledge of this speech, went to him angrily, and said,
"Ffals land-loupper loun that thow art, sayis thow that Cristiane Grahame
and I sall be brunt for witches? I vow to God I sall doe ye ane evill
turne." So she did, by means of a cake of bread, casting on him the most
strange, unnatural, and unknown disease, such as none could mend or
understand. Suspecting that he was bewitched, his friends got her to come
and undo the mischief she had done: so she went into the house, took him
by the "schaikill bane" (shoulder-blade) with one hand, and laid the other
on his breast, but spoke no word, only moved her lips; then passed from
him on the instant. The next day she went again to his house, and took him
up out of bed, leading him to the kitchen and three or four times across
the floor, though he had been bedridden for fifteen days, unable to put
his foot to the ground. And if all that was not done by devilish art and
craft, how was it done? asked the judges and the jury. Another time she
went to the house of one Alexander Vallange, where she was taken with a
sudden "brasch" of sickness, and was so hardly holden that they thought
she would have "ryved" herself to fits. She cried out piteously for her
"dear burd," and the bystanders thou