Written by In the spring of 1662, in the small parish of Auldearn on the Moray coast of Scotland, a woman named Isobel Gowdie began to speak.
Over six weeks, between April 13th and May 27th, she gave four separate confessions to a panel of ministers, landowners, and a public notary named John Innes, who wrote everything down. She was not, as far as the records indicate, subjected to the spectacular physical tortures that characterised some witch trials. She simply spoke. At length, in detail, with a richness and internal consistency that scholars have been returning to ever since.
What she described was a world saturated with magic. A coven of thirteen, each with a named spirit attendant. Meetings at Earlseat Hills and the Kirk of Nairn and Darnaway Palace. The Devil as a large, dark, cold man. The Queen of Faerie in white linens. A puddock-plough drawn by frogs, with traces of dog grass and a half-gelded ram’s horn for a coulter. Clay images made to destroy the heirs of local landowners. Elf-arrows, shaped by the Devil’s hands and trimmed by hunchbacked elf-boys with packing needles, shot from the thumb.
And charms. Twenty-seven of them in total – more than in any other recorded British witchcraft case. Three appear twice in the confessions, with significant variations, as if Isobel was either refining her recollection or the written record captured two slightly different versions of living oral material.
The charms are remarkable. They are not the formal Latin incantations of learned ceremonial magic. They are working folk charms. Rhythmic, practical, spoken in the first person, built on the kind of internal rhyme and repetition that makes things memorable, that makes them stick. Some of them invoke the Devil explicitly. Others carry the unmistakable flavor of pre-Christian magic overlaid with Catholic forms. The saints’ names, the Holy Trinity, the Lady and her Son. Which is exactly what you would expect from the older healing tradition of the Scottish Highlands, where Christian and pre-Christian elements merged seamlessly in popular practice for centuries.
Reading them now, what strikes most is their directness. This is not abstract theology. This is someone who knew exactly what they wanted and had words they trusted to get it.
What follows is every charm from Isobel Gowdie’s confessions, organised by purpose, with the context in which she described them. The language has been lightly modernised where Scots spellings make comprehension difficult, but the substance and structure of each charm is preserved exactly as recorded.
A Note on Reading These Charms
Isobel Gowdie was almost certainly executed, though no record of the execution survives. She named dozens of her neighbours in her confessions. The world she described – the coven, the devil, the murders by magic – was understood by her interrogators as literal truth, and the consequences for the people she named were real and serious.
The charms here are historical documents: windows into a specific time, place, and tradition of folk magical practice in seventeenth-century Scotland. They are also extraordinary poetry. The shape-shifting charms in particular have a rhythmic drive that suggests they were made to be spoken aloud, repeatedly, until the saying of them changed something in the speaker.
Emma Wilby, the scholar who has studied Gowdie most thoroughly, has suggested that Isobel may have been a genuine magical practitioner, a cunning woman or wise woman, whose real practices were translated, under the pressure of interrogation, into the framework of demonic witchcraft that her Calvinist questioners were looking for. The healing charms lend weight to this. They are not devil-worship dressed up as medicine. They are medicine, with the form and internal logic of the older healing tradition. Specific conditions named, specific remedies specified, specific words spoken in sequence.
Read them as what they are. One woman’s record of a living magical practice, preserved by accident in the most unlikely of archives.
The Charms
I. The Raising of the Wind
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
Isobel described this charm in detail. The method required a rag of cloth wetted in water, which was beaten against a stone with a laundry stick while the following words were spoken three times:
~ I knock this rag upon this stane
~ To raise the wind in the Devil’s name –
~ It shall not lie until I please again!
She was specific that the coven had power over wind but not rain. The wet cloth struck against stone is a charm found in various forms across Scottish and Irish folk tradition for weather-working.
II. The Laying of the Wind
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
When the wind needed to be calmed, the same rag was dried and the following spoken three times:
~ We lay the wind in the Devil’s name,
~ It shall not rise ’til we like to raise it again!
If the wind did not lie down immediately after this charm, Isobel said they would call upon their spirit with the words:
~ Thief! Thief! Conjure the wind, and cause it to lie.
III. The Elf-Arrow Shooting Charm
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
The elf-arrows – flint arrowheads shaped by the Devil and trimmed by elf-boys in the realm of Elfland, were shot not from a bow but flicked from the thumbnail. When shooting one at a person, the following was spoken:
~ I shoot that man in the Devil’s name,
~ He shall not whole win hame.
~ And this shall be also true,
~ Not a bit of him shall be on lieu.
On lieu means on life – alive. Isobel stated that if an arrow touched its target, even a coat of mail would not protect them. Sometimes they missed. But if they hit, beast or person, it killed.
The Devil’s instruction when he distributed the arrows was:
~ Shoot these in my name,
~ And they’ll not go whole hame.
IV. Into Hare-Shape
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
To transform into a hare, spoken three times:
~ I shall go into a hare,
~ With sorrow and sigh, and meikle care,
~ And I shall go in the Devil’s name,
~ Aye while I come home again.
Meikle means great. Aye while means and stay until.
V. Out of Hare-Shape
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
To return from hare-shape to human form:
~ Hare, hare, God send thee care!
~ I am in hare-shape just now –
~ But I’ll be in woman-shape right now.
VI. Into Cat-Shape
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
Spoken three times to transform into a cat:
~ I shall turn into a cat,
~ With sorrow and sigh, and a black shot!
~ And I shall turn in the Devil’s name,
~ Aye while I come home again.
VII. Out of Cat-Shape
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
To return to human form from cat-shape:
~ Cat, cat, God send thee black shot,
~ I was a cat just now,
~ But I’ll be in woman-shape right now.
~ Cat, cat, God send thee a black shot!
VIII. Into Crow-Shape
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
Spoken three times to transform into a crow:
~ I shall turn into a crow,
~ With sorrow and sigh – and a black throw!
~ And I’ll go in the Devil’s name,
~ Aye while I come again.
IX. Out of Crow-Shape
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
To return from crow to woman:
~ Crow, crow, God send thee black throw,
~ I was a crow just now,
~ But I’ll be in woman-shape right now.
~ Crow, crow, God send thee a black throw!
X. Charm to Draw Another Witch into Animal Form
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
If a witch encountered another witch whilst in animal form and wished them to join in whatever shape she herself had taken:
~ I conjure thee, go with me!
Isobel stated that on speaking this, the other witch would instantly take the same form and follow.
XI. The Flying Charm
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
To fly on straw or beanstalks, placing the stalk between the feet, spoken three times:
~ Horse and hattock, horse and go,
~ Horse and pellatis, ho! ho!
Hattock is a word whose meaning has been debated by scholars; it may be a fairy cry or simply a formulaic exclamation. An earlier version of the flying charm also appears in the First Confession:
~ Horse and hattock, in the Devil’s name!
Isobel described flight as being like straw flying about on the highway.
She added a warning. If anyone saw straw moving in a whirlwind and did not bless themselves, the witches could shoot them dead if they chose. Those so killed had their souls taken to Heaven, but their bodies remained with the witches and could be ridden like horses.
XII. The Besom Charm
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
To deceive a husband into thinking his wife lay beside him in bed while she was away on her night-flights, a besom (broom) or three-legged stool was placed in the bed in her absence. Spoken three times:
~ I lay down this besom, in the Devil’s name –
~ Let it not stir until I come home again!
Isobel stated that this made the besom appear, to the husband, as a woman beside him.
XIII. The Selling Charm
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
To ensure good prices when selling livestock, cloth, or any commodity, a swallow’s feather was placed in the beast’s hide or the goods. Spoken three times:
~ I send out this beef in the Devil’s name,
~ May much silver and good price come hame.
Isobel stated she used this charm whenever her husband went to sell cattle, and applied the same words to horses and webs of cloth.
XIV. A Fragment: The Lord to the Hunting
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
This charm survives only in fragment, the middle portion apparently not recorded or illegible in the manuscript. What was captured:
~ Our Lord to the hunting he is gone,
~ […] marble stone,
~ He sent word to Saint Knitt [………………]
The context Isobel gave for this charm is not fully preserved. The invocation of Christ going to the hunt is a motif found elsewhere in Scottish and Irish healing charms, and the fragment suggests this was a healing or protective formula.
XV. The Wound-Healing Charm
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
For healing wounds and broken bones. Spoken three times while stroking the wound:
~ He put the blood to the blood, till all upstood,
~ The lith to the lith, till all took with;
~ Our Lady charmed her dearly Son, with her teeth and her tongue,
~ And her ten fingers –
~ In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost!
Lith means joint or limb. This charm is structurally and verbally related to the ancient charm type known as the Second Merseburg Charm, a genre of wound-healing verse found across Germanic and Celtic traditions, always built on the image of a divine figure healing a divine wound, and the same being done now for the patient. The Marian imagery here places the charm firmly in the Catholic folk-healing tradition that survived in the Scottish Highlands long after the Reformation had nominally suppressed it.
XVI. The Boneshaw Charm
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
Boneshaw is sciatica, or pain in the haunch. This charm for it:
~ We are three maidens charming for the boneshaw,
~ By man of Middle-earth, blue beaver, land fever,
~ All manner of sickness –
~ The Lord scared the Fiend with his holy candles and yard foot stone!
~ There the pain is, there it’s gone!
~ Let her never come again!
The three maidens formula is ancient, appearing in Norse, Anglo-Saxon, and Gaelic charm traditions as a structure of multiplied healing power. Man of Middle-earth is a slightly obscure figure, possibly a reference to the earth as healer or to a specific spirit of the middle realm.
XVII. The Fever Charm
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
Spoken three times to drive out fevers:
~ I forbid the quaking fevers, the sea-fevers, the land-fevers,
~ And all the fevers that ever God ordained,
~ Out of the head, out of the heart, out of the back,
~ Out of the sides, out of the kidneys, out of the thighs,
~ From the points of the fingers to the nibs of the toes –
~ Out shall all the fevers go.
~ In Saint Peter’s name, Saint Paul’s name,
~ And all the saints of Heaven.
~ In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost!
This is a charm of expulsion. A common type in European folk medicine in which the illness is listed specifically and then driven out through the body in a single sweep from head to toe. The specificity of the listing (quaking fevers, sea-fevers, land-fevers) reflects the older folk understanding of fever as having distinct types and origins. The Apostles’ names and Trinitarian close are the Catholic overlay on a much older structure.
XVIII. The Fishermen’s Charm
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
To take the best of the fishermen’s catch, to receive the fruit of it, leaving the fishermen with only the lesser fish, spoken three times at the shoreside before the boat came in, along with receiving a fish from the catch (bought, stolen, or given):
~ The fishers are gone to sea,
~ And they’ll bring home fish to me.
~ They’ll bring them home inside the boat –
~ But they’ll only get the smaller sort!
XIX. The Corn-Stealing Charm
From the Third Confession, May 15th, 1662
To take the fruit of another’s cornfield, its productive virtue, by taking a small amount of the grain or kale and speaking:
(The specific words of this charm are not fully preserved in the surviving record, but the method is described: two sheaves or two stalks taken when ripe, the fruit of the entire field transferring to the taker. The stolen virtue was kept until Yule or Easter and then divided among the coven.)
A related verse is preserved from the Third Confession in the original Scots, describing the taking of the crop:
~ And thryfe ower;
~ And so we haw the fruit of that field.
XX. The Charm to Take Cow’s Milk
From the First Confession, April 13th, 1662
To steal a cow’s milk, its productive virtue, hairs were pulled from the cow’s tail, twisted and plaited widdershins (against the sun) in the Devil’s name, then drawn as a tether between the cow’s hind feet and out between its forefeet, while speaking in the Devil’s name. The milk then came to the taker. To return it, the tether was cut.
The specific words of this charm are not preserved in the record as a discrete verse, but the method is described in detail. The widdershins plaiting and the passing of the tether through the legs of the animal is a charm type found across Scotland and Ireland.
XXI. The Charm to Take Ale’s Strength
From the First Confession, April 13th, 1662
To take the strength and goodness from one person’s ale and transfer it to another’s. A drop was taken from each barrel, placed in a jug in the Devil’s name, then mixed into the intended recipient’s ale while speaking in the Devil’s name. The verbal formula is not separately preserved, but Isobel noted:
~ To prevent us getting the ale it should be well blessed – then we have no power over it.
XXII. Into Hare-Shape (Second Version)
From the Third Confession, May 15th, 1662
The hare-transformation charm appears a second time in the Third Confession with significant variation, suggesting either a different version of the charm or Isobel’s elaboration on an earlier account:
~ I shall go into a hare,
~ With sorrow and such and meikle care;
~ And I shall go in the Devil’s name,
~ Aye while I come home again.
The variation sorrow and such against the Second Confession’s sorrow and sigh is noted. Both versions were recorded in the manuscript.
XXIII. The Flying Charm (Second Version)
From the First Confession, April 13th, 1662
An earlier and simpler version of the flying charm, described in the First Confession before the more elaborate version of the Second:
~ Horse and hattock, in the Devil’s name!
The First Confession describes straw placed between the feet. The Second Confession expands this to windle straws or beanstalks and gives the fuller horse and pellatis version. Both forms were recorded.
XXIV. The Sickness-Curse on the Minister
From the Second Confession, May 3rd, 1662
When the coven wished to keep Harry Forbes, the minister of Auldearn, sick in his bed, a bag was made of toad gall, toad flesh, toad guts, barley, nail clippings, hare’s liver, and cloth scraps, all minced and steeped overnight in water. With Satan present, they learned the following words and spoke them three times while kneeling, hair unbound, hands raised and eyes fixed on the Devil:
~ He is lying in his bed – he is lying sick and sore,
~ Let him lie in his bed two months and three days more!
~ Let him lie in his bed – let him lie in it sick and sore,
~ Let him lie in his bed two months and three days more!
~ He shall lie in his bed, he’ll lie in it sick and sore,
~ He shall lie in his bed two months and three days more!
The triple repetition with its three-part structural variation – present, future imperative, future declarative – gives this charm a relentless rhythmic pressure, like a nail being driven.
XXV. The Charm to Identify a Bewitched Child
From the Third Confession, May 15th, 1662
If a child was bewitched, the cure involved the cradle being passed through a looped belt three times, then a dog passed through it. The belt was shaken above the fire and then cast down on the ground until a dog or cat walked over it, transferring the sickness into the animal. The verbal component is not preserved separately in the record but the method is detailed.
XXVI. The Milk-Stealing Charm for Sheep
From the First Confession, April 13th, 1662
Isobel noted that the same method used to take cow’s milk, the twisted hair tether drawn between the animal’s legs, was also used for sheep. The phrasing from the confession:
~ We take sheep’s milk too. The way to take or give the milk back again is to cut that tether.
XXVII. The Dye-Vat Charm
From the First Confession, April 13th, 1662
In Alexander Cumming’s dye-house in Auldearn, Isobel and three companions (transformed into a jackdaw, two cats, and a hare) took a thread of each colour from the vats, tied three knots on each strand in the Devil’s name, and stirred them widdershins through the dye while speaking. The effect was to destroy all the colours in the vats, leaving them capable only of dyeing black. The specific verbal formula is not preserved as a separate charm in the record, but the action – three knots, widdershins stirring, spoken invocation – follows the consistent pattern of the other charms.
What These Charms Tell Us
Read together, the twenty-seven charms of Isobel Gowdie describe a coherent and internally consistent magical practice. Several things stand out.
The healing and harming charms share the same structure. The wound-healing charm and the sickness-curse both work by naming the condition specifically, directing it through a sequence of words spoken three times, and closing with an authoritative formula. This is not coincidence. It is the same technology applied to different ends, which is exactly what you find in the older folk-magic tradition, where the same practitioner who could curse could also cure, and often the same charm could be run in either direction.
The transformation charms have a grammar of their own. Each animal has its own entry and exit verse. The entry verse uses sorrow and sigh (or sorrow and such), invoking difficulty as the threshold cost of transformation. The exit verse addresses the animal-self directly – Hare, hare – and dismisses it, reclaiming the human. This is not poetic fancy. It is a specific structural approach to the problem of identity under transformation: you must address what you are before you can become something else.
The Catholic forms sit inside older structures. The fever charm, the wound-healing charm, the boneshaw charm – all three carry saints’ names, Trinitarian closings, Marian imagery. But the underlying forms are older. The expulsion charm naming illness from head to toe, the three maidens, the divine wound healed as mirror of the human wound. This is what happened to folk magic under Christianity, and particularly in Scotland after the Reformation. The older forms survived, clothed in new names.
Many of the charms are about redistribution. Milk taken from one animal, strength from one person’s ale, the fruit of one cornfield, the best of a fisherman’s catch. The magical world Isobel described was partly about moving productive power from one place to another. This reflects the material anxieties of seventeenth-century rural Scotland, where the margin between sufficient and insufficient was narrow, and where someone’s abundance always seemed connected to someone else’s lack.
After the Confessions
Isobel Gowdie’s final fate is not recorded. The commission requested by the interrogators to try her locally was granted in July 1662. Given that ninety percent of Scottish witch trials resulted in conviction, and conviction almost always meant death, it is reasonable to assume she did not survive the summer.
She named over forty people in her confessions. What happened to most of them is also not recorded.
What remains is the record. The charms. The coven’s nicknames – Pickle Nearest the Wind, Through the Cornyard, Over the Dyke with It. The cold body of the Devil and the Queen of Faerie in white linens. The elf-boys in their hollow house, trimming arrowheads with something like a packing needle. The besom lying beside a husband who does not notice his wife is gone.
Composer James MacMillan wrote of his 1990 orchestral work, The Confession of Isobel Gowdie, that it was the Requiem that Isobel Gowdie never had. This is what she deserves: not rehabilitation, not appropriation, but attention. The kind of attention that takes what she said seriously as what it was. The record of a woman who lived inside a magical world, and who spoke about it, at the end, more fully than anyone before or since.
Primary source: The confessions of Isobel Gowdie, 1662. Transcribed by John Innes, Notary Public. Held in the National Archives of Scotland, Edinburgh. Academic reference: Emma Wilby, The Visions of Isobel Gowdie: Magic, Witchcraft and Dark Shamanism in Seventeenth-Century Scotland (2010).