The cottage near Cobo had a string of short-stay tenants before the quarryman took it. None of them gave a reason for leaving. When his own family began hearing things at night, he asked around and eventually found that the house was said to be bewitched, and that the cause was an old woman who lived close by. Earlier tenants said that on nights of south-westerly gales, when the family sat round the hearth praying for the fishermen at sea, they had seen her come down the chimney "in a cloud of smoke and soot", cross the room, and leave through the keyhole, slamming every door in the cottage and leaving a foul smell behind her.
The neighbours had other stories. A tidy woman who spoke badly of her found her clothes crawling with vermin. A man who had offended her could never drive his cattle past her house and had to take a long way round. Two strong horses could not move an empty cart belonging to someone she had quarrelled with. Her brothers, described as respectable men who were ashamed of her, tried to destroy her books of magic. They burned them on the hearth until nothing seemed left, then found them lying untouched in their usual place on the chest of drawers. They buried them at dead low water on a spring tide and watched the sea cover the spot. When they got home the books were back on the chest, "as dry as bones". Only one method was known to work: burying the books with their owner when she died.
Not far from her door lived an old man who could undo her spells and was glad to help anyone who asked. MacCulloch's closing remark was sharp: that one could hardly blame uneducated peasants for this when "learned men and educated women" were taking up spiritualism. The cottage is not identified, so the map point marks Cobo Bay only.
Comments