INTERVIEW WITH THE WITCH FINDER - THE DISCOVERY OF LEONARD LOW
Leonard Low with the first and latest edition of his book, The Weem Witch
When a gentleman invites you to his house to view his witch prickers, you might think twice before embarking into the unknown. However, when that gentleman happens to be the well-known author and witch trial historian, Leonard Low, it’s an offer I can’t refuse. Leonard’s book, The Weem Witch, was my introduction into the story of the Pittenweem Witch Trials, an account which is fascinating and horrific in equal measure. That book was the inspiration for my own middle-grade children’s book, PJ and The Paranormal Pursuers – The Phantoms of Pittenweem, the second in the series about young paranormal investigators.
I find Leonard at his home in Leven which he shares with partner, Ruth, a TV costume designer, a beautiful Lurcher called Louie, and his beloved cat, Floki. He is surrounded by ancient artefacts and manuscripts relating to Scotland’s witch trials which he has lovingly curated for much of his life. His enthusiasm for the subject knows no bounds, his interest inspired by his late father’s collection of ancient manuscripts. Leonard tells me that when he passed away in the early 2000s, his dad left a vast library of ancient books, all first editions, which he kept in the large stately home of his childhood in the Fife village of Largo.
Leonard, reading the books, developed an interest in the day-to-day events that occurred in Scottish parishes, which, as he began reading, notably featured so-called ‘witches.’ The more he read, the more he wanted to discover, and he continued with the family bibliophilic tradition, amassing more books on every single witch of Scotland. He is now the proud owner of a rare collection of books and ephemera relating to the Scottish witch trials and has become a notable expert in the field. He has been able to add to the existing body of knowledge created by archivists, George Black, and Christina Larner, he tells me. Leonard’s next goal is to create the final and definitive book on witches, which he explains will be a huge tome; a coffee-table, dip-in, dip-out book.
Already the successful author of several books about Scottish Witches and Scottish history, Leonard loves to show his collection of manuscripts and macabre artefacts to visitors. He shows me an Edinburgh newspaper from 1682 for example, which reports the trial Of Major Thomas Weir, a Covenanter, who practised a strict Presbyterianism. He became known as the Bowhead Saint, derived from his religious disposition and the fact that he lived in West Bow, near Edinburgh’s Grassmarket.
Original Newspaper describing Major Weir's Witchcraft Trial
For one labelled saintly, the reason for his final demise could not have been more contradictory. He had an unblemished military career, became a Church Elder and attended the church daily. At the ripe old age of 72, Major Weir, Leonard explains, was compelled to make a devastating confession to the minister, on his sick bed in 1670. Major Weir confessed to dancing with the Devil, flying with beasts and an incestuous relationship with his sister, Jean, since the age of ten.
Although the authorities initially dismissed Weir’s claims, under interrogation at Edinburgh Tolbooth, he elaborated on the confession, and Jean, who may not have been of entirely sound mind, corroborated his story with tales of a fiery coach transporting him to Dalkeith, where he gained supernatural intelligence that the Scots would be defeated in battle on the same day. His power, she said emanated from his walking stick with the handle carved into a human head. Reports were later made that it had been seen walking down the street in front of him!
Weir was executed as a warlock, hanged and burned. Jean suffered the same fate. Leonard explains that the walking stick was thrown on Major Weir’s pyre and was witnessed to have curled up like a snake in the flames.
Leonard produces one of Edinburgh’s first tourist industry keepsakes dating back to around 1800, a replica of the carved handle of Major Weir’s walking stick that was mass produced for tourists to buy. It is one of the many items which is soon to be exhibited publicly as Leonard plans the opening of his Scottish Witch Trial Museum.
Replica of Major Weir's walking stick handle
‘Witches’ in the Family
Leonard Low is consulted from far and wide as an expert in his field and his research, he says, is a very personal quest. On his mother’s side, the Masons, there were two women accused of witchcraft, one who was executed by burning, the other who died while accused. However, Leonard has occasionally been unfairly criticised for allegedly stereotyping witches, as his Wizard of Oz style ‘Wicked Witch’ mannequin accompanies him to lectures and signings. Added to this, is his vociferous support for the ‘Rogue-one’ mural which the landlord of the Larachmhor Tavern, Pittenweem, commissioned for the gable end of his pub. The artwork has outraged local councillors who labelled it ‘gaudy and inaccurate,’ and not in keeping with the conservation area. Retrospective planning permission was refused and the appeal for it to remain has been lost, although Leonard is undeterred in his campaign for the mural to remain as an expression of artistic freedom.
The Rogue-one Larachmhor Tavern Mural
He greets the objections with a mix of disdain and disbelief, blaming it on ‘woke’ culture which refuses to accept that such depictions of accused witches are not intended to be disparaging but need to be caricatured to make them recognisable. They were, after all, he argues, ordinary people, and if depicted as such, there would be no understanding of what is being represented. He likens it to the McDonalds arches and Ronald McDonald – people recognise the logo before the burger bar.
In Pursuit of a Memorial
It has been a long-held concern to Leonard that Pittenweem has nothing that adequately documents or indeed commemorates the victims of five witch trials and 28 people accused of witchcraft from the East Neuk village. Some time ago, his suggestion to Fife Council to place a memorial on a nearby tourist trail stretching along a clifftop was rejected after a vote in the town, which, he understands resulted in a draw. He believes that the decision may have been negatively viewed by Church representatives whose predecessors were responsible for the persecution of innocent people. Successful convictions allowed the Church to confiscate and retain the money and property of those accused, vastly increasing its wealth. Most often this was at the expense of women whose personal and property ownership rights were limited.
The Scottish Witch Trial Museum
Far from being defeated in his battles, Leonard is a man on a mission. Over many years, he has acquired a large collection of macabre objects and artefacts relating to the witch trials of the 16th and 17th centuries, in addition to his ancient books and manuscripts. He is now curating, and about to open a permanent exhibition of his collection in his hometown of Leven.
Leaflet for the Scottish Witch Trials Museum
Leonard aims to display items relating to The Scottish Witch Trials from 940-1750. The starting date may surprise some, he explains, because most people believe that witch trials didn’t begin until 1563 and the commencement of the Scottish Witchcraft Act introduced under Mary Queen of Scots. However, he tells the story of a boulder in the town of Forres, which was one of three, originally. These, he says, represent the Forres Witches. In around 940, King Duffus (a.k.a. Duff) took ill while fighting the Vikings and blamed his predicament on witches.
The grim tale is that the accused were taken to Clooney Hill where they were incarcerated in fish barrels with 12-inch nails hammered into them. The barrels were sealed and rolled down the hill and then set alight. It takes little imagination to picture what the women suffered. However, for those lacking such insight, Leonard has reconstructed the barrel which is complete with a graphic and gruesome model of an unfortunate woman inside. The model, he tells me is intended for the wall of the new museum.
Model made by Leonard Low or the Forres Witch Barrel
Leonard is proud of his collection, and rightly so. He shows me other items destined for the display. He has the Papal Bull of Pope Innocent VIII (1484-92) who issued the lead seal against witchcraft. This is a very rare item from this Pope, who also played a crucial role in creating the Malleus Maleficarum, (The Hammer of Witches), the most authoritative book on the discovery and persecution of witches, written in 1486 by the two inquisitors Pope Innocent VIII sent to Germany to uncover witchcraft. His Papal Bull indirectly authorised the writing of this book by his representatives.
Leonard’s interest in witchcraft trials extends across the globe. He even has a piece of the elm tree used for hanging the Salem Witches in Massachusetts. He explains it is one of three carved books made from the branches of the tree, felled in 1876, the remainder of which was carved into a seat for the Boston Library.
Global Discovery of Witches
I ask Leonard how he manages to discover such rare items.
“Well, I have a procedure,” he tells me. “I get up at around 6.30 in the morning and walk Louie. When I get back, I make my coffee and feed the beasties. I sit with my coffee, checking my emails and scouring the internet for auctions.”
His searches are carried out all over America, Australia and Britain for any item relating to Scottish Witches and Witch Trials. Often manuscripts pop up, like one referring to the Shaw family from Paisley who were the proprietors of Bargarran House, site of a horrific witch trial in 1697. Further research revealed it to be authentic.
Leonard produces the manuscript for me to look at. It is a very long, (14’) rolled up scroll, which he handles gingerly as unrolling it could cause damage. The story, he reveals, concerns a child of eleven years old — Christian Shaw — and the manuscript reveals that Bargarran House comprised a lot of land and family-owned boats.
Scroll relating to Bargarran House
Christian Shaw, Leonard tells me, caught one of the servants, Catherine Campbell, taking milk. Campbell, caught red handed was far from contrite and uttered words to the effect of ‘The devil take your tongue, if you tell.’ The young Christian was terrified hearing the curse and subsequently took to her bed where she thrashed around convulsively, pulling out feathers, nails, and all sorts of filth from her mouth. The family doctor, Dr Brisbane and the parish ministers declared Christian bewitched and subsequently a trial ensued from which seven of the household servants were burnt to death from twenty accused in total.
As if this wasn’t punishment enough, Leonard tells me he also owns a letter demonstrating further ignominy for Catherine Campbell’s family. The missive declares that after her belongings were sold off, the proceeds didn’t meet the ‘burning price’. The letter, dating back to 1703 is from the parish council who are harassing Campbell’s parents for the balance. The Rules of the Malleus Maleficarum state that a witch’s belongings fall to the Church. Leonard observes that this is why the church is the biggest landowner in Britain.
Seven Years’ Bad Luck
To illustrate the lowly wages of a servant girl in those days, Leonard explains that the old superstition about there being seven years bad luck for breaking a mirror came about from the length of time it would take to repay the cost if a servant broke such an item during their employment.
Leonard produces a shoe shaped snuff box belonging to Maggie Laing (aka Margaret Lang), one of the so-called Bargarran Witches, a midwife, whose profession was commonly regarded with suspicion in those days. He tells me it was owned by Joseph Noel Paton, a Dunfermline artist and collector of curiosities, who was a favourite of Queen Victoria. The snuff box had been donated to his museum by Paton’s ancestors for which Leonard is very grateful.
I ask Leonard about the similarities between the behaviour of both Christian Shaw’s and Patrick Morton’s (accuser of the Pittenweem Witches) convulsive conditions leading to the accusation of witchcraft and whether he believed they had genuine illness. He is quite certain that both faked their conditions, encouraged, aided, and abetted by doctors and ministers. In the case of Patrick Morton, Pittenweem was in utter poverty at the time after most of the men in the town had been lost to war. In 1704, The Reverend Patrick Couper exploited, mostly women, with accusations of witchcraft in order to claim property, boats and land from them for the parish coffers.
An interesting postscript about Christian Shaw is that not only was she blamed for the fate of accused witches, but she also became a leading industrialist, credited with rejuvenating Paisley with the thread industry. Dr Brisbane’s great grandson later ran a prison colony in Australia, which is how the city got its name.
Ghosts in the Tolbooth
Probably Leonard’s most successful book is ‘The Weem Witch’ recounting the story of the Pittenweem Witches. I ask him about his investigations which included access to the Tolbooth Tower in Pittenweem for around seventeen years. It may come as no surprise that Leonard, as well as being a historian and author, also has an interest in paranormal investigations. During the time he had unfettered access to the Tolbooth, where the accused were incarcerated and tortured, he kept motion sensor cameras in the building running 24/7. He tells me that although months would go by with no activity detected there, crazy weeks would follow with sightings of strange phenomena. Some of his pictures reached the national newspapers. His investigations came to an abrupt halt when the roof was declared unsafe and about to collapse following damage to the weather cock. Leonard told me that he has spoken to tradesmen who worked in the tower who had been terrified by activity inside. One described witnessing the bell rope stretch out and become taut as though someone was holding it.
Ghosts in the Pittenweem Tolbooth - Photos Courtesy of Leonard Low
Given his collection of artefacts, most with gruesome histories, I ask Leonard whether he feels there are any spiritual attachments to them. He is almost surprised to acknowledge that he hasn’t experienced any paranormal activity related to his collection. He introduces me to ‘Little Ned,’ a grotesque 18” wooden effigy which is full of nails front and back, used in a modern witch trial in Congo. Little Ned came up in an auction and he bought him as a modern example of witchcraft. The effigy isn’t quite Chucky, he says, but it does make people uncomfortable.
Little Ned
The Outlandish Mr Low
Sam Haughan, Leonard Low and Graeme McTavish - Men in Kilts (courtesy Leonard Low)
Leonard Low’s claim to fame also extends to his consultancy role on witches for the television series, Outlander, and his subsequent appearance in Men in Kilts along with Sam Heughan and Graeme McTavish, two of Outlander’s stars. He met the pair at Wormistoune Castle in Crail where he terrified them with implements of torture. While waiting to film the show, he was excited to have had dinner with Sam and Graeme when he discovered that Sam Heughan had gone for the role of the new James Bond, but that fate had intervened when Covid had hit, which led to him turning it down, opting instead to return to Outlander.
I wonder how Leonard came to his career as Scotland’s authority on witch trials. A builder to trade, he tells me that his love of history came first, sparked by the books his father had owned. A quirk of fate with a back injury meant that his writing took over. The success of The Weem Witch led to an invitation to meet the then Baron of Pittenweem, William Ronald Crawford Miller WS, an eccentric gentleman in his 90s who wore a smoking jacket to show Leonard around his house, which he says, was more like a museum. This meeting led to one of Leonards most prized acquisitions, when the Baron produced a witch pricker (used to identify the Devil’s mark on the accused) and a pair of shears used to remove the accused’s hair.
The Unearthing of a Battlefield
Leonard is proud of his books, which include, Largo’s Untold Stories, St Andrew’s Untold Stories and The Battle of St Monan’s, the latter of which is about a relatively unknown and obscure battle in 1548 which Leonard explored for his book. He discovered it took place on the beach between 5,000 English and the Scots under the Earl of Wemyss on behalf of James Stewart. After researching it from information gathered in England and France, and diaries of the time, Leonard gave the information to Canmore, the organisation which catalogues matters and sites of historical interest. The site of the battle is now a registered battlefield because of his findings.
The two former books relate quirky tales about Leonard’s birth town of Largo and St Andrew’s where his ancestors met their fate as accused witches. He says however, that he feels his personal best book is Scotland’s Untold Stories containing 30 tales of Scottish history, guaranteed to make the reader’s jaw drop. Topics include Jack the Ripper’s visit to Pittenweem in 1888 and a near-miss of a young Largo lad who unwittingly accepted the offer of a drink of water and entered the van of a Manchester couple visiting the area. Had it not been for the suspicion of his sister, trained not to talk to strangers, he may have ended up as victim to none other than Myra Hindley and Ian Brady, The Moors Murderers.
Leonard’s last book, The Lowdown on Witches is what he’s become famous for, however. It contains 30 stories of Scottish witchcraft, replete with every detail the reader could wish for.
So, does Leonard Low believe in ghosts? I ask him.
“Yes, absolutely. I’m not psychic but I have seen ghosts. It started with my sister when she died. She appeared to me in my family house the day before her funeral. My reaction was to scream into my cushion. I just couldn’t take it. I had watched her die of kidney failure for two weeks, you see. I turned around again, and she was sitting on my bed. I could see her in the mirror, and she just slowly disappeared. I felt ashamed of my reaction – I mean, it’s my sister. I got a bottle of whisky and climbed to the top of Largo Law where I sat watching the sunset and the sunrise. But I was a new person after that, I tell you. I was 27 and that’s when I got really interested in hauntings and ghosts. Now, I’ve investigated many things.
Communications with the Dead
I’ve investigated a poltergeist in Kennoway which was utterly violent. My pal and I were interviewing the couple, and things were happening right around us. Afterwards, sitting in the car, we couldn’t speak; couldn’t fathom what we just witnessed. We even questioned whether it had actually happened. It was incredible. We were sitting there and suddenly these glass cases moved out six inches but there’s nothing there to do it.
Things like that entice you to know more. I’m never fearful of it, though. I’m there for a reason, not to be scared of it. I was scared to see my sister and I’m thoroughly embarrassed about it.
Another time, a woman approached me to ask if I’d ever investigated Largo Cemetery. I hadn’t, but she told me that she had been there one summer in 2010 putting flowers on a grave when a guy came out of the grave next to her. She described a full figure of a man who came out of the grave and just stood there. He had string around his trousers and looked like a labourer with a black cap and arm braces on the sleeves of his white shirt. She told me he just walked right through a wall and carried on the field across the road. They call it the ‘Coffin Walk,’ an ancient walk leading to the Laird’s castle. After I started looking into it, another person reported seeing the same man when out with his family. So, my friend and I went to Largo Cemetery and took photographs around the grave and sat with our tape recorders. It was a pitch-dark summer’s night. Anyway, when we played it back, we got a voice speaking in a foreign language and we didn’t know what it was saying. It sounded like Polish. I sent the recording to a Polish friend in London, and he told me it was saying, ‘Hello Baldy!’ This was incredible because the Polish Airforce was stationed in Largo House during the war.
I asked my Polish friend, Marta to come to the cemetery. I didn’t tell her what we were doing, only that I would ask questions in English and that I’d like her to repeat them in Polish for the recordings. She thought it was a bit of a laugh but when we played back the recordings, she stood up and announced she was leaving right then! The voice on the tape said in Polish, Who’s the pretty girl sitting next to you? Marta totally freaked. It came up with a Polish name, something like Rudinski.
We went through the cemetery records, and we found the name, Rudinski, who was buried somewhere in the cemetery. He died in 1972. We went back to the cemetery and sat down but we didn’t have to go far. I turned around and saw it two graves away – Rudinski! We had audio and photographic proof from a heat seeking camera. It’s amazing.”
Leonard’s time investigating the Pittenweem Tolbooth also yielded some strange moments.
“I was in the tower with several people. I was walking down, leading the group, when suddenly, this tall woman appeared in front of me in a white shroud. She was staring at me, like angry, really angry. She was six inches taller than me, and I just walked into her coming down the stairs – and then it was gone! I have about five photographs from inside and outside the tower of whole figures.”
Leonard Low takes his investigations very seriously and is scathing of fraudulent ‘ghost hunters’ such as those making TV shows, who have even asked him to join in with set-up activity.
“There are always people around who just want to be seen and heard as having experienced stuff. I was meeting a lot of mediums when I was in the papers for Pittenweem. A lot of them are just very able ‘cold readers’ who notice everyday things around you, photographs, or jewellery you have around, and make educated guesses. There was one occasion, though, with a well-known medium who worked for the Sun. She died recently of cancer. Anyway, about a month or two ago, my phone beeped with a message. It came up with medium’s name and it said Hiya Kid! That’s what she used to say to me. I got in touch with her best pal and asked who was fooling about with her phone. She went to check the medium’s phone and when she came back, she said it was sitting at the back of a drawer, the battery was flat, and it wasn’t working. I’ve had two messages now, both saying Hiya Kid. That’s creepy (although I didn’t believe in her mediumship abilities).”
Leonard Low at home with his collection of artefacts
Whatever you might think of paranormal investigations and the existence of ghosts, Leonard Low has an undisputed encyclopaedic knowledge of Scottish history and the witch trials. He is a convincing witness, a person who can speak with authority on many subjects, and one you can listen to for hours – as I did in this interview. One thing is for certain, not only is he a learned authority on his subjects, but he is also a passionate advocate for justice and remembrance of those who were so horrifically treated. Some might criticise him for his graphic interest in what happened in those dark days of Scottish history but his aim in opening the Scottish Witch Trial Museum is to show the truth without presenting a sugar-coated version of events. It will definitely be an experience to visit – but perhaps not for the faint hearted.
A 'brodder' or 'witchpricker' and shears from Pittenweem
The Scottish Witch Trial Museum is now open 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. daily
2 Mitchell Street, Leven, Fife, KY8 4HJ - Entry price £10 per person.
Jacqui Dempster is the author of PJ and the Paranormal Pursuers – The Phantoms of Pittenweem – The Book Guild Ltd, 28 April 2024. Price £8.99 and PJ and the Paranormal Pursuers – The Mackenzie Poltergeist (Both suitable for middle grade readers aged 9-14).
