SALEM WITCHCRAFT. (continued 2)

The foregoing has all the air of an exaggerated narrative, and it is probable that Dr Mather, in his love for the marvellous and wonderful, recorded the circumstances without due examination, but merely from the uncertain rumor among the credulous neighbors. The same story is found on the records of the court at Salem, but with the following explanatory circumstances as I have received them. It so happened, that one Caleb Powell, an intelligent seaman, suspected that a boy, the grandson of Morse, who lived in the family, was the cause of all the mischief, and watched for an opportunity of detecting him. Going one morning to Morse’s house, he saw through the window, the said boy throw a shoe slyly at the old man’s head. Upon this, Powell told Morse that if he would let his boy come and live with him a short time, he guessed that with a little astrology and a little astronomy, he could unravel the mystery. Morse reluctantly consented, and his house was not molested during the boy’s absence. This, Morse acknowledged, but yet, unwilling to suspect the boy, he and his neighbors concluded that Powell had studied the black art, and had by that means been the cause of all the mischief about Morse’s house. Powell was accordingly apprehended and tried at Salem. The testimony against him was singular. One testified, that he had heard him say that by a little astrology and a little astronomy, he guessed he could find out the cause of Morse’s trouble. Another testified, that he heard it said that Powell had studied the black art with one Norwood, a famous magician beyond sea. The result of the trial was, that although they could find no positive evidence of his guilt, yet he had given so much ground for suspicion, that he deserved to bear his own shame and the costs of court. Morse’s wife was at another time tried for witchcraft, and condemned to be hung, but was afterwards reprieved, and died a pious woman.

The following is an amusing story, well told, but it is from newspaper authority, the Galaxy. About the year 1760, the fury of the inhabitants of New England had declined towards suspected old women, but their believing fear was not altogether quelled. At this time, a case of witchcraft occurred in Billerica, under the ministry of the Rev. Dr Cummings, who related the story with much satisfaction, as the last which came within his precincts.

An old woman, of very peaceable character, lived pretty much alone in a shell of a house near the meeting-house and the clergyman’s dwelling. She was suspected of witchcraft by a family who lived at two miles’ distance, in the west part of the town, and they brought accusation immediately to the parson; who in those early times, exercised not only the spiritual, but the temporal power of the parish; he was often counsel for both parties, and was judge and jury, without subjection to appeal. He was, moreover, a peace-maker. Mr C. accused Mrs D. of witchcraft. ‘How do you know she is a witch?’ ‘Because she has bewitched my mare.’ ‘How do you know that your mare is bewitched?’ ‘Because she won’t stand still to be saddled, and the minute I get on, she kicks up and throws me off.’ ‘But what makes you think that Mrs D. has bewitched her?’ No answer. ‘Have you had a quarrel with her?’ ‘Oh no! I have had no quarrel.’ ‘But what is the matter? surely she would not bewitch her for nothing.’ ‘Why I carried her some corn on the mare about a week ago, and I didn’t know but I might have made a mistake in the measure so that it fell short, and so’—‘And because your corn fell short, you suspect that she found it out, and is so angry as to bewitch your mare.’ ‘Yes, that’s it, and I want you to go and lay the devil.’ ‘Why, if you have raised the devil by cheating in the corn, you had better lay him yourself.’ ‘Yes, but I don’t know how.’ ‘Go then, directly, and carry the balance of the corn, and take good care never to commit such an act again: the devil is always busy with people who do not perform all their duties honestly.’ The man slunk away home at this unexpected rebuke, and failed not to carry corn enough to make full measure; which, however, he feared to carry into the house to the old woman, but emptied it down upon the door-stone. But the mare ceased to kick as usual; whereupon Mr C. came to the minister, told him what he had done, and begged for holy assistance. ‘Go home,’ said the parson, with all that energy for which he was so remarkable, ‘go home,—you need not trouble yourself about witches; I’ll not allow them to do any mischief, I assure you—do your duty, so as to escape a guilty conscience, and if your mare is refractory, whip her, as I do mine—go, and let me hear no more about witches.’ Mr C. obeyed, but he was far from convinced that Mrs D. was not a witch, and he determined to put it to the proof. For this purpose he boiled a large potato, which he put directly from the boiling water, under the bewitched mare’s saddle. The caperings and kickings of the poor beast were excusable this time, at least, for when after some hours the saddle was got off, it was found that a severe mark was left behind it. The proof of the matter was to be this; if the old woman had bewitched the mare, she would have the same mark of a burn on her back. Two old women were prevailed on to be of the examining committee. Dr Cummings was requested to be of the party, with his Bible at hand, to prevent any fatal explosion from Satan’s nostrils. This office he prudently declined. His place was supplied by another old woman, and Saturday night was appointed for this examination. This time was chosen, because the good people thought that Satan would not visit in holy hours. In the meantime, the good woman got an inkling of what was going on; and as they entered a long dark entry, they were saluted with a stupendous flash of powder and tow, and a glorious clatter of tin pans. The committee was scattered of course—and before church the next day, everybody in the town knew, that the devil came, all covered with blue brimstone, to save his disciple, the wicked Mrs D. This would have made a new era in witchcraft in the town, but for the pertinent remarks of the parson touching the matter; for he was enabled to dispense a word in season.

It is but a few years since, a farmer at Kennebunk, observing his cattle to be affected with some fatal disease, conceived the idea that they were bewitched, and fixed his suspicion on a poor widow who had become insane in consequence of the death of her husband at sea. He was so confident of her guilt, that he went to her lonely cottage, and with his ox goad, beat and abused her in a cruel manner. It is not under our salutary laws that a crime so atrocious can pass with impunity. The culprit was prosecuted and received the merited punishment.

The family of M’Farlain, of Pembroke, were remarkable for peculiarity of character and manners. About the year 1789, Seth M’Farlain attracted the notice of the neighborhood by being supposed to be under the influence of witchcraft. He became an object of wonder and commiseration to some, and of curiosity and ridicule to others. Hundreds of people thronged round his house from time to time, gazing with astonishment at his supposed personal sufferings; inflicted, as he pretended, by a certain old hag in the neighborhood. He was desired to visit the woman at her house, but before he could reach the door, his limbs would fail him, and he would fall to the ground. His body was occasionally distorted and convulsed, he would utter the bitterest complaints of pain and distress, which he ascribed to the presence of the hag, although she was invisible to all but himself. He consulted Judge T—r, to know whether he would be culpable in law if he should kill a witch. The Judge observing Seth on the bed with a club, swinging his arms to and fro, to keep off the witch, was willing to humor the whim, and procured a gun, and loading it with some pieces of silver, enjoined on Seth to take a sure aim when the witch again made her appearance. Accordingly, Seth pointed the gun to the door where she usually entered, and hung up her bonnet, and at the proper time he discharged his piece. The discharge shattered the door in pieces, but the cunning witch dodged her head at the moment he pulled the trigger!