according to the tenets of Christianity. So many Christian
priests were also followers of the witch-religion that the Inquisitors of
the sixteenth century were greatly exercised in their minds as to how to
deal with the offenders. Antide Colas confessed that she attended the
midnight mass on Christmas Eve, then went to a witch meeting, and returned
to the church in time for the mass at dawn on Christmas morning.[144] At
Ipswich in 1645 'Mother Lakeland hath been a professour of Religion, a
constant hearer of the Word for these many years, and yet a witch (as she
confessed) for the space of near twenty years'.[145] The best-known case
of the kind is that of Major Weir in Edinburgh in 1670, whose outward
appearance tallies with the usual descriptions of the Devil, and whose
conduct is only explainable on the supposition that he actually was the
Chief of the witches: 'His garb was still a cloak, and somewhat dark, and
he never went without his staff. He was a tall black man, and ordinarily
looked down to the ground; a grim countenance, and a big nose.'[146] His
reputation for piety was so great that a woman, who had actually seen him
commit an offence against the criminal law, was flogged for mentioning the
fact and thus defaming a man of such extreme and well-established piety. He
was tried as a witch on his own unsolicited confession, and was burnt
together with his staff, dying 'impenitent' and renouncing all hope of a
Christian heaven. The most interesting case historically, however, is that
of the Devil of the North Berwick witches (1590). The number of people
involved was thirty-nine, i.e. three Covens; but though the names of all
were known, only four were tried. The records are given in considerable
detail, and the identification of the Chief is therefore possible.

The character of the accused in this case is of great importance when
considering the evidence. Nothing more unlike the conventional idea of
witches can well be imagined than the man and women who were arraigned on
that occasion. Agnes Sampson, the wise wife of Keith, was 'a woman not of
the base and ignorant sort of Witches, but matron-like, grave and settled
in her answers, which were all to some purpose'. John Fian, or Cunynghame,
was a schoolmaster, therefore a man of education; Effie McCalyan, the
daughter of Lord Cliftonhall, was a woman of family and position; Barbara
Napier was also of good family. These were clearly the moving spirits of
the ban