Of all the dark chapters in Scottish history, few are as chilling, complex, and culturally resonant as the period of the witchcraft trials. For over two centuries, Scotland was gripped by a fever of fear and religious fervour that led to the accusation, torture, and execution of thousands of people, predominantly women. This was not a mere sidebar to history; per capita, Scotland’s rate of execution for witchcraft was five times that of European averages, making it one of the most intense and brutal episodes of its kind. The history of Scottish witch hunts is a story of superstition meeting state power, of misogyny fuelled by theology, and a stark reminder of the dangers of mass hysteria.
The Perfect Storm: Why Scotland?
The flames of the witch trials were fanned by a unique convergence of factors in 16th and 17th century Scotland. Firstly, the Protestant Reformation, led by figures like John Knox, created a new, austere form of Calvinism that viewed the world through a lens of constant spiritual warfare. The Devil was not a distant concept but an active, present force seeking to corrupt and destroy. This worldview created a society primed to see Satan’s hand in misfortune, from a failed harvest to the death of a child.
Secondly, the passing of the Witchcraft Act of 1563 by the Parliament of Mary, Queen of Scots, made witchcraft a capital offence, punishable by death. This act provided the legal framework for the trials, but it was the unwavering support of the state, under King James VI, that truly unleashed the hunts. James, after a terrifying voyage home from Denmark where he encountered storms he believed were witch-sent, became personally obsessed with witchcraft. He wrote his own daemonological text, Daemonologie (1597), which provided a theoretical and theological justification for rooting out witches. His influence turned witch-hunting from a sporadic local event into a systematic national campaign.
The Mechanics of a Witch Hunt: From Suspicion to the Stake
The process typically began with a sudden calamity—an illness, a death in livestock, a storm that damaged crops. In a pre-scientific age, people sought explanations, and witchcraft provided a compelling answer. Accusations often stemmed from existing village tensions: a falling out between neighbours, the resentment towards a poor woman seeking alms, or the suspicion surrounding a solitary, unconventional figure.
Once accused, the suspect was imprisoned and interrogated. This is where the true horror unfolded. To extract a confession, which was required for a conviction, legalised torture was routinely employed. Methods included:
- Sleep Deprivation: The most common technique, known as ‘watching’. The accused was kept awake for days on end, prodded with pins, and constantly questioned until their resistance broke and hallucinations began.
- The Pricking: A ‘pricker’ would use a needle to search for the ‘Devil’s Mark’—a spot on the skin believed to be insensible to pain and a sure sign of a pact with Satan. These marks could be anything from a mole to a birthmark, and prickers were often paid per conviction, creating a gruesome incentive.
- Torture with Ropes and Boots: More extreme methods involved tightening ropes around the head or limbs or using the ‘boot’, a device that crushed the leg by driving wedges between the flesh and an iron frame.
Under such unimaginable pain, victims would not only confess to fantastical crimes—attending satanic sabbaths, consorting with the Devil, casting maleficent spells—but they were also forced to name accomplices. This created a terrifying domino effect, where one accusation could lead to dozens more, engulfing entire communities in panic.
The Face of the Accused: Gender, Poverty, and Power
The vast majority of those accused—over 84%—were women. This was not a coincidence but the result of deep-seated misogyny. Women were often viewed as the ‘weaker vessel’, more susceptible to the Devil’s temptation. Old, poor, and widowed women were particularly vulnerable. They lived on the margins of society, often dependent on community charity. If they were refused help and a misfortune subsequently befell the refuser, they could easily be blamed. The figure of the witch was a convenient scapegoat for societal anxieties, and the trials became a brutal method of policing female independence and non-conformity.
However, it is crucial to remember that not all victims were poor old women. Men, often related to accused women or practicing folk healers (‘white witches’), made up about 15% of the accused. People from all social strata could be caught in the net, though the poor and powerless had far fewer resources to defend themselves.
The Peak and the Fade: From North Berwick to the Last Witch
The hunt reached its terrifying peak in the years following the North Berwick witch trials (1590-92), which directly involved King James VI. Over 70 people were implicated in a conspiracy to sink the king’s ship using witchcraft. The confessions, extracted under torture, were elaborate and fantastic, detailing plots against the king and solidifying the national obsession.
The fervour waxed and waned over the decades, often flaring up during periods of political and religious instability, such as the Civil War and the Cromwellian occupation. One of the last major outbreaks occurred in Renfrewshire in 1697, a case that highlighted the enduring power of superstition. Here, seven people, including the renowned scholar Christian Caldwell, were accused. Caldwell and others were executed, but the trials caused growing public unease.
By the early 18th century, the age of Enlightenment was dawning. The Union of Parliaments in 1707 moved the legal seat to London, and a more sceptical, rationalist worldview began to take hold among the educated classes. The last execution for witchcraft in Scotland was likely Janet Horne in Dornoch in 1727, an elderly woman accused of turning her daughter into a pony and being shod by the Devil. The local sheriff was said to be deeply uncomfortable with the proceedings, a sign of the changing times. The laws themselves were finally repealed with the Witchcraft Act of 1735, which, while still prosecuting fraudulent magical practices, ended the legal notion of witchcraft as a pact with the Devil.
A Legacy Remembered: Pardons and Memorials
For centuries, the victims of Scotland’s witch trials were a forgotten stain on history. Today, that is changing. In 2022, the Scottish Parliament officially issued a posthumous apology and pardon for the thousands convicted and executed under the Witchcraft Act. First Minister Nicola Sturgeon acknowledged it was an “egregious historic injustice” driven primarily by misogyny.
Campaigns like the Witches of Scotland group were instrumental in driving this recognition and are now advocating for a national memorial to the victims. From the ‘Stones of Niding’ plaque in Forres to the cobblestone monument in Kirkcaldy, local communities are increasingly creating spaces to remember those lost to this dark frenzy.
The history of Scottish witchcraft trials is more than a tale of superstition. It is a profound lesson in how fear, when weaponised by authority and directed against the vulnerable, can lead to unimaginable cruelty. It reminds us of the fragility of justice and the human cost of mass panic. Remembering the names of these thousands of men and women is not just an act of historical reckoning; it is a vow to guard against the same forces of intolerance that, in different forms, still threaten society today.