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The Fanatic
James Robertson
for Ange
In that same year 1670 was that monster of men and reproach of mankind (for otherwayes I cannot stile him), Major Weir, for most horrible witchcraft, Incest, Bestiality, and other enorme crymes, at first contest by himselfe (his conscience being awakned by the terrors of the Almightie), but afterwards faintly denied by him, brunt. So sad a spectacle he was of humane frailty that I think no history can parallell the like. We saw him the fornoon before he died, but he could be drawen to no sense of a mercifull God, so horribly was he lost to himselfe. The thing that aggravated his guilt most was the pretext and show of godlinesse wt which he had even to that tyme deceived the world. His sister also was but a very lamentable object … She was hanged.
—Journals of Sir John Lauder, Lord Fountainhall, with his observations on public affairs and other memoranda 1665–1676
This is the world’s old age; it is declining; albeit it seems a fine and beautiful thing in the eyes of them that know no better, and unto those who are of yesterday and know nothing it looks as if it had been created yesterday, yet the truth is, and a believer knows, it is near the grave.
—From a sermon by Hugh Binning (1627–53), minister of Govan
The wild heads of the tyme do dream,
There’s a world in the moon,
O, to deceive if I were trier,
For heir will trust me none.
—Lines from a satirical poem on Archbishop James Sharp, c.1667, Analecta Scotica
Contents
Prologue (Bass Rock, March 1677)
Edinburgh, April 1997/October 1987
Bass Rock, April 1677/Edinburgh, December 1666
Edinburgh, April 1997/July 1668
Bass Rock, April 1677/Kippen, November 1673
Bass Rock, June 1677/Edinburgh, April 1670
Edinburgh, 1 May 1997/January 1678
Edinburgh, 10, 11 January 1678
A Historical Note and Acknowledgements
James Mitchel was dreaming. The kind of dream that mocks, constantly slipping in doubts: this is real, this is not real.
In the dream he was awake and lying in bed. The room was heavy and warm with the smell of woman. A great sadness was welling