ntgomerie. She did not
attempt to deny that the neighbour who saw her leg falling off spoke
the truth. She delated four women of evil repute, two of whom were
Margaret Olson and Helen Andrew, the latter being the witch cut with a
sword when appearing like a cat to Montgomerie. Poor Helen's injuries
proved fatal; for she died, when thrown out, like a lifeless
quadruped; and Nin-Gilbert soon followed her companion in sin to the
grave, her broken gangrened leg having brought about her demise.
Several years afterwards (1722), as seen in page 491, or, as Sheriff
Barclay says, in 1727, the law was for the last time put into
execution against a reputed witch in Great Britain, viz. in the county
of Sutherland, a northern shire of Scotland.

Dunrossness had a witch in the middle of the seventeenth century that
plagued the Shetlanders. A boat's crew having given her offence, she
determined to procure their untimely end. To accomplish her diabolical
purpose, she put a wooden cap into a tub of water, and then began to
sing (presumably to the devil), in order that a storm might be raised,
and the fishermen at sea drowned. As she sang, the water in the tub
became greatly troubled, and ultimately it was so exceedingly agitated
that the cap turned upside down. As the cap toppled over she
exclaimed, "The turn's done." A few hours afterwards, word reached
Dunrossness that the fishermen against whom she entertained the grudge
were drowned.

In the beginning of the seventeenth century a cunning woman in
Shetland succeeded, through diabolical art, in transferring a sore
disease, which afflicted her husband, to the body of a neighbour.

An old Orkney lady removed diseases by pulling mill-foil in a
particular way, repeating a few Latin words--sometimes benedictions,
but more frequently maledictions--and performing certain mysterious
operations at the marches of two estates.

Mary Lamont, eighteen years of age, residing at Innerkip in the year
1662, had power, like the girl mentioned in page 535, to control the
elements. She could raise storms, and, if a tempest was desired in the
Clyde or at sea, she only required to throw small charmed stones into
the flowing tide. Then there were plenty of ships lost and men
drowned. She and her diabolical companions not unfrequently made their
power felt at Campbeltown, now famous for its whisky, and at the Mull
of Kintyre, where many a sailor has perished on its dangerous shore,
amidst the raging of