Orkney Folk Tales Read online

  When people talked about Janet Forsyth a new word started to be used and that word was ‘witch’.

  ‘Well, she must be a witch. Why; didn’t she say that Benjamin Garrioch and his pals would be lost at sea? Sure enough, that’s what happened! And how could she survive taking out that small boat into a storm?’

  ‘She must raise the storms.’

  ‘Aye! She’s in league with the Devil and she communes with him during the storms that she raises.’

  So, poor Janet Forsyth was known as the Westray Storm Witch after that. She did know herbal remedies for sickness so when people were ill they would go to her for a cure. But, of course, when anything became ill it was Janet who got the blame. If a cow stopped milking or a horse went lame it was laid at the door of the Storm Witch.

  Things came to a head one day when a particularly terrible storm raged, whipping the sea up into a seething cauldron of foam. A ship had been caught by the strong currents that swirl around Westray and it was being driven towards the rocks. The people gathered on the shore to watch, expecting a rich harvest from the sea. Janet joined them and saw what was happening, but she knew that there was no point in asking anyone if they were going to try to help. She ran down to the noust and pulled the boat down to the raging sea. It was not easy for her to launch it against the breakers, but she managed to somehow. The people looked on in disbelief; surely there was no way that her frail little boat could survive in such seas as this. Slowly they saw the boat climb up a huge wave only to plunge down the other side and disappear from view. Well, surely she has gone this time, they thought, but there it was, climbing another huge wave before plunging into the watery depths once more.

  On the ship the captain and crew were frantic, trying to save their ship from being torn to pieces on the rocks. Janet managed to get alongside the ship and secure her boat before climbing on the deck. She started to shout orders to the crew, who were so amazed to see her that they sprang to action immediately. Janet was a fisherman’s daughter and she knew all the rocks and currents around the shore as well, if not better, than anyone else. She used the current to turn the ship, taking it away from the dangerous skerries31 that threatened to tear its hull open. Under Janet’s directions they managed to bring the ship safely to anchor in Pierowall Bay. The captain didn’t know what to say to her, but he offered her a small gift of a bag of money. Janet looked at him sadly and said, ‘Thank you, but I don’t want any money from you. You see, I once had a love who was a sailor and he disappeared. I would like to think that if he was in danger on the sea then someone would help him in his hour of peril.’

  With that she returned to her boat and sailed it back to the noust and went home to sit by her fireside and sing her sad songs once more.

  These days you would get a medal for such an act of bravery, but not in those days. Janet Forsyth was accused of witchcraft and arrested on the authority of the Church. She was brought to Kirkwall to stand trial in St Magnus Cathedral, where she was held in an unlit cell known as ‘Marwick’s Hole’. Who Marwick was we do not know but the entrance to the hole that was named after her is through a trapdoor in the floor. The bottom of the cell is dome shaped, like the bottom of a champagne bottle, with sharp, jagged stones set on edge. Here Janet was held for three weeks before her trial.

  At the trial her neighbours gave evidence against her; the usual catalogue of cows not milking and animals and people becoming sick. One man even accused her of bringing on an illness while he was at sea so that he felt terribly sick and had to return to the shore. Seeing her on the beach, he accused her of witchcraft, but she scooped up seawater in a bucket that she was carrying and threw it over him, after which he felt much better. It is laughable, but in 1629 it was enough to have you convicted of witchcraft and the only sentence for that was death.

  The judge found Janet guilty as charged of witchcraft. He asked her if there was any reason why he shouldn’t pass the death sentence on her, but she just looked at him and said, ‘I don’t care anymore. Death holds no fear for me for I have done nothing wrong. I have never raised a storm, but when I went to sea in those conditions it was because I had hoped that I’d find my Benjie, who could be in trouble on the sea. If anyone protected me at sea it wasn’t the Devil, but God that had his hands around me. But I’m tired of life and I welcome death. So, pass your sentence, for I don’t care.’

  The judge passed the usual sentence for witchcraft on Janet Forsyth ruling that the following morning she was to have her hands bound behind her back and be taken to the Head of the Loan32 where she was to be worried at the stake33 until dead and her body burnt to ashes. The crowd in the cathedral shouted their approval and cheered the verdict. As Janet turned to look at them she suddenly screamed, ‘Benjie! Save me Benjie!’ and then fell to the ground in a faint.

  A man in a sailor’s uniform ran over to where she lay, scooped her up in his arms and kissed her. The judge was outraged, saying, ‘Young man; if it wasn’t for the fact that you are serving in His Majesty’s navy I would have you punished for contempt of court. Now, release the prisoner and have her locked up.’

  They dragged Janet away, still screaming, ‘Save me Benjie!’

  That night there was a great celebration in Kirkwall, for the fleet was in town. A squadron of Royal Navy ships had been driven north by strong winds and had anchored in Kirkwall Bay. The officers had been invited ashore by the local dignitaries for cake and wine. As the wine flowed (no doubt joined by smuggled gin and brandy) the town council felt generous and ordered that several barrels of ale should be opened at the Market Cross for the sailors and townspeople to enjoy. All were merry and without a care in the world; apart from poor Janet, of course.

  The next day, when Janet was due to be led from the cathedral to the place of execution, there was a large crowd gathered to witness the event. The cathedral bell tolled, the time came and went, but there was still no sign of the witch. The sheriff-depute and the provost went to the condemned cell to see what the delay was and came running out shouting that the witch had escaped. There was great confusion; the hangman and his guards were found to be in a deep sleep and the cell was empty. A search was made, but Janet Forsyth was never seen in Orkney again.

  A few years later Bailie Baikie was on his way to London on business when he stopped off in Manchester. As he walked down a street there he saw a shop sign that said ‘Benjamin Garrioch’. Thinking that this was an Orkney name he went inside to pay his respects when, to his amazement, he recognised Janet Forsyth, the Westray Storm Witch, behind the counter. He had seen her at her trial, but she was a lot younger and healthier looking now than the last time that he had seen her. On saying her name she called into the back shop and out came Benjie Garrioch, who told him the following story.

  That fateful day when Benjie left Westray the boat became lost in the fog. They sailed around for a while, not knowing where to go, when they saw a shape in the distance and headed towards it. On getting near they saw to their horror that it was a Royal Navy man-o’-war. They were seized and pressed into the navy and carried off to fight in the war against France, as was the fate of so many young Orkney men over the years. The ship he was on was driven north with the rest of the squadron and anchored in Kirkwall Bay. This was his first time back in Orkney since being pressed, so he went ashore and strolled through the narrow streets of Kirkwall before seeing people going into the cathedral. He and some of the sailors followed them and saw that there was a witch trial taking place, little knowing who it was that was on trial. He cheered at the verdict along with the rest of them, but then to his horror saw that the condemned woman was his Janet. He decided that he must save her; but how? He carried cogs of ale to the hangman and the two men who guarded Janet’s cell, knowing that they had a reputation for drunkenness, but he mixed a sleeping powder into the ale and soon they were dead to the world. He got Janet out and they hurried on the road to the east and over the brae to Inganess Bay where the ship that Janet had saved was lying at anchor. The
captain and crew wanted to help her, as they owed her their lives, and so she was soon safely on board. Benjamin returned to his ship, so as not to arouse suspicion, while the ship carrying Janet sailed south to Liverpool. She stayed there with the captain’s wife and family until Benjamin was able to desert his ship at Portsmouth and join up with her. With what money he had, plus a bit from the captain, they moved to Manchester where they started their own business. Bailie Baikie was amazed to hear this story and promised not to tell a soul; but I suppose he must have, otherwise I couldn’t tell it to you now. So, there are descendants of Janet Forsyth, the Westray Storm Witch, living in Manchester to this day.

  How much truth there is in that story is hard to say. Janet Forsyth did exist and she was sentenced to death for witchcraft in 1629, but as far as Benjamin Garrioch and the rescue are concerned it could just be a Victorian invention. However, there were a very high number of witches executed in Orkney in this dark period of our history. The possibility of erecting a memorial to them at the site of the gallows is currently being discussed.

  MAMMY SCOTT

  In 1814 Sir Walter Scott, while visiting Stromness with the Northern Lighthouse Board, met a notorious witch called Bessie Millie who had a small cottage on Brinkie’s Brae overlooking the town and who sold fair winds to sailors for sixpence a time. She was succeeded by another witch who could control the winds called Mammy Scott. Here are two short stories relating to her.

  A captain called at Mammy Scott’s house to secure a fair wind for his return voyage to Stornoway in Lewis. She took his money and gave him a piece of string that had three knots tied in it. He was told to untie the first knot if the wind was not strong enough and to untie the second knot if he required a bit more wind. But on no account was he to untie the third knot, or things would turn out bad for him. He thanked her and set sail on his ship. The wind was light so he untied the first knot and a strong breeze filled the sails meaning the ship made good speed through the Hoy Sound and along the coast of Sutherland. The captain was still not satisfied with the strength of the wind so he undid the second knot. The breeze picked up and started to blow briskly so that the ship made good speed around Cape Wrath and southwards towards the Hebrides. Before long the ship was approaching the entrance to Stornoway Harbour and the captain started to wonder what would happen if he was to untie the third knot. They were home already, so what could possibly go wrong? He untied the third knot and suddenly the wind swung around and blew straight at them, the sky turned black and a hurricane stated to blow. The ship, so close to home, was forced to turn around and run before the gale, all the way back north, through the Hoy Sound and back to Stromness.

  In the meantime Mammy Scott had fallen out with a man from Walls and held a grudge against him and his family. She had taken a passage over the Pentland Firth and went to a house in Caithness where she asked if she could rest for an hour or so. It seems that the dispute may have occurred during the voyage across to the Firth; something the Walls man did on a regular basis. Mammy Scott asked the woman of the house if she would fetch her a bucket of water and a ‘bummie’,34 which the woman did. Mammy Scott set the bummie floating on the surface of the water then started to stir the water with her finger until the water upset the bummie and it sank. Mammy Scott watched this with a cold look in her eyes and said, ‘Aye, there they go; but I’m sorry for the poor stranger laddie that’s with them.’

  That evening the Walls man and his two sons were drowned in the Pentland Firth, along with a passenger that they were ferrying over, when their boat suddenly capsized for no apparent reason.

  SCOTA BESS

  The following story was collected by Walter Traill Dennison as a ‘here-meed-rhyme’; an old ballad that was based on a folk tale, which went under the title of ‘Lady Sarah’s Voyage’.

  Lady Sarah was the daughter of a wealthy laird who lived in Dundee. Her mother had died when Sarah was only a small child and her father loved her dearly as she looked more and more like his lost love with every passing year. Many rich men’s sons tried in vain to win her as their bride, but they were sent away disappointed and crushed. Sarah did not want any of these men, or their love, for she already loved another. She had fallen in love with a brave knight, a soldier who was now fighting the king’s foes over the sea and she had promised him faithfully that she would wait for his return. But the time passed by and she was still alone in her father’s house until eventually her heart grew weary of waiting.

  A brave sea Rover heard of Lady Sarah’s beauty and he vowed that he would win her heart, no matter what it took. He courted her in secret, using sweet words that flowed from his lips like poisoned honey. He was bold and brave and had amassed a great fortune. He told her stories of all the places that he had been, all the wonders of the world that he had seen, and slowly, but surely, he started to win her over. He told her that her brave knight had forgotten about her and was spending his days in revelry, wine and song while she withered away in her father’s house. He said that her knight was courting other women and had forgotten about his childish vow to her. She should forget that false knight and come away on his ship where they would sail to the West Indies and live in paradise. And so it was arranged that on a certain night he would come for her and that they would run away together and be happy for the rest of their days.

  On the appointed day her father was in a sad mood. His life was never happy since the day that his dear wife passed away, for the pain had never left his heart. He called to his daughter to sing to him before he went to bed. Her song was as melancholy as his mood; a lament that tore at his heart. He thanked her, saying that he saw in her the sadness that was within him, but that he hoped that her knight would return safely from the wars soon and then her days would be filled with laughter and light. On hearing this Sarah went to her bedchamber and threw herself on the bed, weeping for her lost love and the father that she would never see again if she was to leave that night. Her old nurse tried to comfort her, but she sent her away. Then her maidservant came in; a girl whose loyalty had been bought by the Rover and who was to try to turn her mistress against her life there. She whispered lies into Lady Sarah’s ear, saying that she had heard it said that her father was planning to send her to a French convent to become a nun and to live alone for the rest of her life. She said too that she had heard that her brave knight was now married in London and had never intended to return to her. These lies found a home in Sarah’s heart and they grew there like a cancer in her soul.

  At the appointed hour she heard a knock on her window and her maidservant opened it to let the Rover in. They made ready and left; both Lady Sarah and her maidservant took horses and rode to the docks where their ship awaited them. They cast off at once and sailed south on the first leg of their journey to the West Indies. But as they reached the coast of Kent the wind veered around and freshened to gale force, blowing the Rover’s ship to the north. He ordered that they keep away from land when they drew near to Dundee, in case Lady Sarah should recognise it and want to return to her father. The wind raged on and the ship went further northwards until they reached the Pentland Firth. The pilot advised against trying to find a route through the Firth, as its reputation was fearsome as a graveyard of ships. The pilot also worried about the Orkney witches who raised storms and lured ships to their doom. But the Rover ordered them to sail through the Firth and so they tried their best. The ship pitched and tossed wildly as the currents flowed against them and they could not make any headway.

  Suddenly, a beautiful ship passed them by and tried to sail through the Firth. She was painted all over with bright colours and looked like a gem floating on the surface of the sea. This ship battled against the tide, but couldn’t get through either, so it turned about and started to sail to the north-east. The Rover admired that beautiful ship and ordered his men to follow her. The pilot said that it was certain death to try to steer a ship through the Orkney Isles, but the Rover said that the painted ship seemed to know the way, so they would fo
llow her. She sailed by Copinsay then north around the Mull Head of Deerness and towards Stronsay and the Rover followed her like a dog follows its master.

  In Stronsay lived Scota Bess, a witch who could control the elements, raising both storms and fog at will. She took her seat in the Maiden’s Chair that was cut into the rocks of Mill Bay and where, it was said, if a maiden sat she would be given the gift of prophesy. Scota Bess sat in the Maiden’s Chair and watched the ships as they sailed to the north and an evil laugh fell from her wrinkled mouth.

  ‘The Devil will sing and be merry tomorrow as he enjoys his sport with the souls of that ship’s crew.’

  The doomed vessel sailed around Papa Stronsay and into the Sanday Sound, still following the painted ship.

  Lady Sinclair sat in her hall at Warsetter in Sanday and watched the Rover’s ship pass by. She had the gift of second sight and tears filled her eyes as she said to her maids, ‘There is a man-sworn woman35 on that stately ship and she is doomed for the sin that she has committed.’

  The two ships carried on around Sanday as the sun set. The pilot came to the Rover and said, ‘Have you noticed that ship has carried full topgallant-sails throughout the gale but has never been further forward or nearer to us than it appears now? I say we shouldn’t follow it any longer, for if we were in the southern seas I’d swear that we were following Vander Dick36 himself!’

  But the Rover was headstrong and swore that he would carry on following that ship as it was their best chance of getting through the islands alive.

  ‘Breakers ahead!’ cried the lookout. ‘Breakers on the lee bow!’

  There before them they could see the broken water with the jagged rocks beneath it. Lady Sarah and her maidservant were on the poop deck with the Rover by this time.