passed the water called the Scottish Sea, towards S. John’s town [Perth,] about
four miles from the country of the wild Scots, and there, in a convent of Black
Friars, outside the town, he held a great feast. In the course of the revel came
“the said woman of Ireland, who called herself a divineress,” and made several
vain attempts to gain access to the king. Meanwhile the conspirators matured
their plot, removed the king’s guards, attacked him, and slew him.[70]
All the predictions which come true are preserved; we hear nothing of those
which fail, for no one has an interest in recording or repeating them; hence an
undue importance is gradually attached to what are nothing more than
remarkable coincidences. Many others are prophecies “after the event.” Others
are based on a careful calculation of probabilities. As in the following example:
An Orkney warlock, full of displeasure with James Paplay, a proud and haughty
chief, with whose character, doubtless, she was well acquainted, broke forth into
a torrent of predictive utterances: “Thou art now the highest man that ever thou
shalt be! Thou art gone to shear thy corn, but it shall never do you good! Thou
art going to set house with thy wife,—ye shall have no joy of one another. Oil
shall not keep you and her; ye shall have such a meit-will [craving,] and shall
have nothing to eat, but be fain to eat grass under the stones and wair (sea-weed)
under the rocks.” It was seriously asserted that not only were these predictions—
or menaces—uttered, but that they were all fulfilled; and it is possible that the
prophet may have had something to do with their fulfilment.
A curious anecdote is related of a Scottish minister, who, on the day of the battle
of Killiecrankie, was preaching at Anworth, and in his preface before his prayer,
according to his usual mode of homely expression, began to this purpose: “Some
of you will say, What news, minister? What news about Clavers, who has done
so much mischief in this country? That man sets up to be a young Montrose, but
as the LORD liveth, he shall be cut short this day. Be not afraid,” added he, “I see
them scattered and flying: and as the LORD liveth, and sends this message by me,
Claverhouse shall no longer be a terror to GOD’S people. This day I see him
killed—lying a corpse.” And on that day, and at that hour, Claverhouse fell[71]
(July 27th, 1689.)
In their anxiety to obtain a glimpse of the dread writing in the Book of Fate, men
have resorted to divers strange expedients, applying to warlocks and witches, or
seeking to wring a response to their questionings from the creatures of the
Invisible World. The ceremony known as Taghairm, or “Echo,” seems to have
been peculiar to Scotland. The inquirer was wrapped in a cow’s hide, his head
being left free, and was carried by assistants to a solitary spot, or left under the