Michael Scot & the Witch of Falsehope
"The Witch of Falsehope"
Sir Walter Scott
It is said, that, when residing at the Tower of Aikwood, upon the Ettrick, about three miles above Selkirk, the wizard Michael Scot heard of the fame of a sorceress, called the Witch of Falsehope, who lived on the opposite side of the river. Michael went one morning to put her skill to the test, but was disappointed by her denying positively any knowledge of the necromantic art.
In his discourse with her, he laid his wand inadvertently on the table, which the hag observing, suddenly snatched it up, and struck him with it. Feeling the force of the charm, he rushed out of the house; but as it had conferred upon him the external appearance of a hare, his servant, who waited without, haloo’d upon the discomfited wizard his own greyhounds, and pursued him so close, that in order to obtain a moment’s breathing to reverse the charm, Michael, after a very fatiguing course, was fain to take refuge in his own jawhole (Anglice, common sewer.)
In order to revenge himself of the witch of Falsehope, Michael, one morning in the ensuing harvest, went to the hill above the house with his dogs, and sent down his servant to ask a bit of bread from the goodwife for his greyhounds, with instructions what to do if he met with a denial. Accordingly, when the witch had refused the boon with contumely, the servant, as his master had directed, laid above the door a paper which he had given him, containing amongst many cabalistical words, the well known rhyme —
“Maister Michael Scot’s man
Sought meat, and gat nane.”
Immediately the good old woman, instead of pursuing her domestic occupation, which was baking bread for the reapers, began to dance round the fire, repeating the rhyme, and continued this exercise till her husband sent the reapers to the house, one after another, to see what had delayed their provision; but the charm caught each as they entered, and, loosing all idea of returning, they joined in the dance and chorus.
At length the old man himself went to the house; but as his wife’s frolic with Mr. Michael, whom he had seen on the hill, made him a little cautious, he contented himself with looking in at the window, and saw the reapers at their involuntary exercise, dragging his wife, now completely exhausted, sometimes round, and sometimes through, the fire, which was, as usual in the midst of the house.
Instead of entering, he saddled a horse, and rode up the hill, to humble himself before Michael, and beg a cessation of the spell; which the good-natured warlock immediately granted, directing him to enter the house backwards, and with his left hand, take the spell from above the door; which accordingly ended the supernatural dance. — This tale was told less particularly in former editions, and I have been censured for inaccuracy in doing so. — A similar charm occurs in Huon de Bourdeaux, and in the ingenious Oriental tale, called the Caliph Vathek.
Notwithstanding his victory over the witch of Falsehope, Michael Scott, like his predecessor Merlin, fell at last a victim to female art. His wife, or concubine, elicited from him the secret that his art could ward off any danger except the poisonous qualities of broth, made of the flesh of a breme sow. Such a mess she accordingly administered to the wizard, who died in consequent of eating it; surviving, however, long enough to put to death his treacherous confidant.
- Sir Walter Scott (1805)
