Hideous death of a spaewife – and three men in a boat...

If you are spending more time at home during the current emergency, we have dug out a few archive stories for your amusement. Some of these appeared in the e-book Monsters, Ministers and Mayhem by Chris Ferguson. Others are pencilled in for an expanded print version at some point in the future

On the night of Black Jean’s hideous death, dark forces intruded into the human realm in a grotesque tribute to this acolyte of demons. Perth’s natural order was overthrown and weather systems were interrupted as the veil between the living and the dead was briefly parted.

The memory of her howling exit from this world struck terror into people in the town for decades and was quoted by the press well into the mid1800s.

Black Jean was an interpreter of dreams. It is thought she came to Perth from Glen Coe. In the 1700s, the social connections between Argyllshire and Rannoch in Perthshire were stronger.

She lived in Meal Vennel, now the site of the St John’s Centre, close to where the old Central District School stood.

While her power may have had a dark origin, Jean took care to affirm the positive in her readings and sent no one away with a heavy heart. She followed the belief that morning dreams were signposts to fate.

As she advanced in years, some in the town began to doubt her power. One was a matron who scorned Black Jean for refusing to predict the date of her death.

It seems Jean had good reason for staying quiet. The matron was to die within a week.

However, the one event Black Jean did not predict was her own untimely death.

Despite her age she enjoyed rude health and seemed destined to push human existence to its limit.

A minor illness confined the spaewife to bed, but she refused medical help.

Her withdrawal coincided with a series of sinister events which many interpreted as portents of her death.

It began when a stray dog found its way to Jean’s door after dark and howled piteously for hours. Then an old visitor to Jean saw images of the dead in a bedside candle.

A little girl who sat by the dead was disturbed by the rustling and tapping of a strange bird at the garret window.

That same night a woman returned home in terror declaring she had seen the wraith of Black Jean at the gate of Greyfriars burial ground.

Perth people experienced a ringing in their ears. They took it to be death bells.

Black Jean at last consented to medical attention but the doctor could do nothing. A minister was called but his word of faith disturbed Jean who began chanting spells.

On her final night a furious storm of wind and rain broke. Between gusts, Jean emitted guttural roars. The window was opened to allow her soul to flee and a calm came over Jean.

Her attendants were huddled round a table when between gusts, a growl of distant thunder was heard. Then the near-lifeless Jean sat upright in her bed, eyeballs distended and waving her arms. She broke into a grotesque song predicting a rising from the grave.

As she breathed her last the house was shaken by an earthquake. Few in Perth forgot Black Jean’s passing.

Adventurers at sea

“Call me Ishmael….whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses…. then I account it is high time to get back to sea”.

Herman Melville’s introduction to Moby Dick gives literary form to the longing that has drawn the restless to the sea throughout history.

Low atmospheric pressure, invigorating spray, unfamiliar sounds and the adventure of another world are enough to lift even the most crushed spirit.

And so it was when three Arbroath office workers set off to sample the sea in autumn 1852.

James Smith, his son and brother-inlaw launched what was described as a “crazy” boat one Monday and intended to potter about close to shore.

But a fierce wind blew up and they took off like a rocket into the open sea.

When they did not return that night, relatives onshore feared the worst.

Late on Tuesday night, however, they received reports that Bell Rock Lighthouse keepers had seen the vessel dancing around Inchcape, all sheets to the wind.

A passing vessel reported three men with no knowledge of how to handle a boat wrestling with equipment.

Luck was on Smith’s side and late on Tuesday the wind catapulted the boat across the terrifying bar of the Tay where they took shelter in Dundee.

Next morning they were at it again. They tried to sail back to Arbroath and got as far as Elliot.

Nature intervened once more and the craft skimmed the waves back out to open sea.

They endured two nights of struggle before a storm hurtled them past Fife

Ness into the Forth. Again, luck was on their side and they made land on the Isle of May.

Residents fed the adventurers and next morning sailed them to Crail where they delivered them into the care of the Kirk.

The minister gave them six shillings if they promised to return home by land.

In Arbroath, loved ones saw their return from afar and welcomed them like prodigal sons. Music and feasting followed.

“As she breathed her last the house was shaken by an earthquake

● Monsters, Ministers and Mayhem is available to download at Amazon priced at £1.79. And very good it is if I say so myself.

A fierce storm at Abroath, right. Our adventurers took to see in calm conditions but were overtaken by the weather and landed up on the Isle of May, via the Bell Rock lightbouse. Below right is a photograph of Meal Vennel in Perth where Black Jean lived and died.