In the bustling streets of 17th-century Potterrow, where market stalls lined the roads and neighbours traded gossip as much as goods, Agnes Finnie was both feared and famous. A sharp-tongued shopkeeper and moneylender, she had a reputation for cursing those who crossed her. But in a time when curses were taken as seriously as swords, her words would seal her fate.
A Woman of Sharp Words and Sharper Suspicions
Agnes was no humble village wise woman. She was a businesswoman—a moneylender who did not suffer fools gladly. If a debtor failed to repay, they could expect more than just a demand for money. She would call misfortune upon them, warn of terrible fates, and curse their houses and families.
At first, these threats were dismissed as the rantings of an irritable old woman. But as neighbours fell ill, livestock died, and accidents occurred, whispers spread. Could Agnes Finnie really be a witch?
Over twenty of her neighbours thought so. They accused her of using the black arts to bring sickness and suffering. And in 1644, at the height of Scotland’s most fevered witch hunts, the authorities took notice.
Tried and Sentenced to Burn
Agnes was arrested and put on trial, accused of cursing at least 20 people. The evidence against her? The sickness of her enemies, her sharp tongue, and the sheer number of people who believed she was guilty.
In a time when the devil was thought to walk among the people, Agnes’s reputation was enough to condemn her. The court found her guilty, and she was sentenced to death.
On March 6, 1645, Agnes Finnie was taken to Castlehill, near Edinburgh Castle, where a crowd gathered to watch her fate unfold. Like so many before her, she was strangled and then burned at the stake.
The Echoes of Potterrow
Today, Potterrow is a busy student area near the University of Edinburgh, far removed from the dark days of the witch hunts. But if you walk through these streets, imagine the world of Agnes Finnie—a time when words could kill, curses carried weight, and justice was dealt with fire.
At The Witches’ Well on Castle Esplanade, a small memorial marks the spot where she and hundreds of others met their end. Some say the spirits of Edinburgh’s witches still linger in the city’s closes and wynds, whispering to those who listen.
💡 Next time you walk past Potterrow, remember Agnes Finnie—not as a monster, but as a woman whose words held power in a time when power could be deadly.
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