A NIGHT WITH WITCHES.[A]
As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke
When plundering herds assail their byke,
As open pussies mortal foes,
When, pop! she starts before their nose,
As eager runs the market crowd,
When, "Catch the thief!" resounds aloud,
So Maggie runs, the witches follow,
Wi' monie an eldritch skreech and hollow.
--Burns.
[Footnote A: The incidents narrated in this chapter were gathered from
Cotton Mather's "Invisible World," and legends current at the time.
Strange as it may seem, these narratives were believed, and some are
from sworn testimony in court.]
Most people are superstitious. In fact, we might put it stronger and
say, all people are superstitious. Superstition is natural, and so long
as there are great mysteries unrevealed to man, there will be
superstition. So long as the great mysteries of life and death and a
future existence are shrouded in the unknown, there will be believers in
the supernatural. So long as there are powers and forces not understood,
they will be attributed to unknown or unnatural causes. Most people are
unwilling to admit, even to themselves, that they are superstitious, yet
somewhere in their nature will be found a belief in some odd and
ludicrous superstition. Many have a dread of the unlucky number; some
will not commence a journey on Friday; they feel better when they have
seen the new moon over their right shoulder, and when the matter is well
sifted, we find lurking about all a strange, inexplicable superstition.
Two hundred years ago, superstition was far more prevalent than at
present, and some of the wisest and best of that day possessed the
oddest and most unreasonable opinions.
A few evenings after the incidents narrated in the foregoing chapter,
Charles Stevens, who had been all day on a hunt, at night found himself
near an old deserted house, four or five miles from town. The house had
been built by some Puritans, years before, and the family which had
lived in it were murdered by Indians. The house was currently reported
at the village to be haunted; but Charles, who was not a believer in
ghosts, resolved to pass the night there, in preference to braving a
threatening thunderstorm.
His negro man Pete was with him, and when he told Pete to gather up some
dry wood, the darkey, with eyes protruding from his head, asked:
"Massa Charles, am ye gwine to stay heah all night?"
"Certainly, Pete, why not? A storm is coming, and we could not reach
home in such a tempest."
"But dis house am haunted."
"Oh, nonsense, Pete. Get the wood, and don't let such foolish notions as
ghosts enter your mind."
Pete reluctantly obeyed, and Charles went into the house where was an
old lamp which had been left there by hunters. It was nearly full of
oil, and he lighted it by aid of his flint and steel.
Some rude benches and three-legged stools constituted the furniture.
Pete, finding that nothing could induce his master to go on, gathered a
quantity of dry wood before the rain began to fall, and started a fire.
The single lamp, burning dimly on the mantel, gave a weird ghost-like
gleam, and Pete shuddered as he glanced into the dark corners and the
black attic above, from whence his fervid imagination conjured up lost
spirits, ghosts and goblins ready to seize him by the hair.
Just as the first great rain-drops began to fall on the old
weather-beaten roof of the deserted house, they heard the rapid tramp of
feet without. Pete uttered a horrified yell and sprang into the chimney,
where he was trying to start a fire. Charles told him to refrain from
his silly conduct and went to the door to see who their visitors were.
"Charles, Charles, is it you?" cried a voice which he recognized as John
Louder. "We saw the light within and determined to seek shelter."
Louder was accompanied by his neighbors Bly and Gray, all carrying guns
and some small game in their hands.
"You have been in the forest to-day?"
"Yes, with ill luck, too. Marry! I trow, neighbors, we will have a
tempest," cried Louder, as he and his companions entered the old house.
A burst of thunder shook the earth; the wild winds raged about the
house, making the rickety old structure creak and groan, while the air
about seemed on fire. For a moment all were awed to silence; then
Charles said:
"It will soon pass. The rain will soon drown it."
"Have you but just come?" asked Louder.
"Just arrived."
"I would not, under other circumstances, put up in such a place as this;
but it is better than the storm raging without."
The hunters, thankful for even such poor shelter, skinned some
squirrels, and toasted them before the glowing fire, which Pete had
built. Supper over, they drew the benches close about the fire, and
while they listened to the raging storm without, conversed on the
mysteries of that invisible world, which has always formed an
interesting theme for the children of Adam.
"Charles Stevens, only a few years ago, you harbored at your house a
wizard," said Louder.
Charles Stevens was half amused and half indignant. He began to
expostulate with Louder, when the latter said:
"Nay, nay; I charge you not with bartering with the devil; but list to
me. On the selfsame day you found the stranger wounded at the road-side
near the spring, we three had been hunting among the hills for deer.
Some one had bewitched my gun. I know it, for when I fired, the bullet,
which never failed on other occasions to go straight to the mark, went
astray. All day long that mysterious stranger had followed us,
grievously tormenting us and leading astray our shots, until I loaded my
piece with a sixpence and fired at a large fat buck which strutted
temptingly before me. Had you probed his wound I trow you would have
found my sixpence buried in his side."
At this, the negro, who was crouched in a corner, groaned in agony,
while Charles was inclined to treat the matter lightly. Louder related
how, while at the lake in the wood, he had been visited by this
mysterious apparition, who offered him a book to sign, adding that he
knew at once that his tormentor was a wizard or the Devil, that his eyes
were in an instant changed to fire, and sulphurous smoke issued from his
nostrils.
"Can you ask me if I believe my own eyes and my own ears?" concluded
Louder. "Those are truths, and had I signed his book, I would have been
tormented by fiends and my soul forever lost."
"They do say the people are ready to cry out on Goody Nurse," put in
Bly.
"Goody Nurse! surely not," answered Charles. "She is one of the best
women I know. She is kind, good and gentle with all."
"Verily, so is Satan, until he has his clutches upon you. Goody Nurse is
a witch."
"Beware, John Louder, how you malign such as she," said Charles, growing
serious. "Have the proof before you assert."
"I know whereof I speak," declared John Louder. "About five or six
months ago, one morning about sunrise, I was in my chamber assaulted by
the shape of Goody Nurse, which looked on me, grinned at me, and very
much hurt me with a blow on the side of my head. That selfsame day,
about noon, the same shape walked in the room where I was, and an apple
strangely flew out of my hand, into the lap of my wife, six or eight
feet from me. Can you deny such evidences as this?"
"I have seen her," put in John Bly, "and once when her shape did assail
me, I struck at her with my cane, and she cried out that I had torn her
coat."
Samuel Gray stated that he had been tormented with spectres and spirits.
All this was agony to the horrified negro, who, crouching in one corner,
shivered with dread, while his eyes wildly rolled in agony.
"Once a shape appeared to me and did tempt me to sign a book which I
refused to do, and the shape whipped me with iron rods to compel me
thereunto."
"Did you know the witch?" asked Charles.
"Verily, I did."
"Who was it?"
"One Bridget Bishop. I afterward saw her at a general meeting of witches
in a field, where they all partook of a diabolical sacrament, not of
bread and wine, but of the flesh and blood of murdered people."
At this the negro groaned and crouched closer to the chimney jamb. The
storm roared without, and the rain fell with a steady pouring sound, as
the superstitious hunters filled their pipes and gathered closer about
the fire.
"There is no need to deny longer that witches exist," said John Louder.
"I have seen enough of them to convince me beyond question that there
are witches. Ann Durent one day left her infant, William Durent with Amy
Dunny, a woman who has since been known to be a witch. Though Dunny was
an old woman, she afterward confessed she had given suck to the child,
whereat Durent was displeased and Dunny went away with discontent and
menaces.
"The night after, the child fell into strange and sad fits, wherein it
continued for divers weeks. One doctor Jacob, who knew something of
witches, advised her to hang up the child's blanket in the chimney
corner all day, and at night, when she went to put the child into it, if
she found anything in it, then to throw it without fear into the fire.
Accordingly at night when she took down the blanket, there fell out of
it a great toad, which hopped up and down the hearth, uttering strange
cries. A boy caught it, and held it in the fire with the tongs, where it
made a horrible noise, and flashed like gunpowder, with a report like
that of a pistol. Whereupon the toad was seen no more. The next day a
kinswoman of Dunny said she was grievously scorched with the fire, and
on going to the house it was found to be even so. After the burning of
the toad, the child recovered."
"I did not believe in witchcraft at first," remarked Samuel Gray, by way
of preface to some weird account of his own; "but I cannot doubt my
senses. I had been to Boston on business for the parson and, being
belated, was riding along the road homeward. I had just reached the old
Plaistowe field, when I suddenly discovered a long black something, like
a monster cat or panther, running along the fence at my side. I was
seized of some strange power and despite my will was forced to wink my
eyes. If I closed my eyes but for a second, the black object was back at
the point where it started from and ran along again, until I closed my
eyes, when it appeared where I had first seen it. My horse became
affrighted and ran away with me."
John Bly knocked the ashes from his pipe and began:
"I have an uncle in Virginia, who was sorely tried by witches. One witch
in the neighborhood, especially, did grievously torment him. He would go
to his door and see his field full of cattle; but on entering the field
itself, no cattle were to be seen. Knowing full well that he was
bewitched, he loaded his gun with a silver bullet, and one day fired at
a large white cow. Instantly every beast disappeared, and he saw an old
woman over the hill limping as if in pain. It was the suspected witch,
whom he had shot in the leg. She did not bother him any more; but
another witch used to come at night and ride him. She would shake a
witch bridle over his head, utter some incantation and my uncle would be
turned into a horse, and she would ride him hard until morning. Then she
would bring him home, remove the spell, and he would be asleep in bed at
dawn. One night he was thus ridden to a witch ball and tied to a tree.
He rubbed his head against the tree until he got the bridle off, the
spell was broken and he was once more a man. He took the enchanted
bridle and laid in wait for the witch. As she emerged from the door, he
seized her, shook the bridle over her head, repeated the words she had
used, and instantly she was changed into a fine gray mare. He mounted
her and rode her furiously, out of revenge, for many miles to a
blacksmith, where he alighted and, awaking the smith, had him shoe the
mare at once. Then he rode her nearly home, when he turned her loose.
"Next morning he went to the home of his neighbor, whose wife he
suspected of being the witch, and inquired after the health of the
family.
"'My wife is ill,' answered the head of the house.
"'What ails her?'
"'Alas, I know not.'
"My uncle went into the room where the woman lay in bed suffering
greatly.
"'Are you very ill?' my uncle asked.
"'I am sick almost unto death,' the woman answered.
"'Let me hold your hand and see if you have a fever.'
"'No, no, no!' and she sought to hide her hands under the cover; but my
uncle was a resolute man, and he seized her hand and drew it from
beneath the cover, and behold, a horseshoe was nailed unto it. On each
hand and each foot there was nailed a shoe which the smith at the trial
swore he had put on the gray mare the night before."
The negro groaned at the conclusion of the narrative, and his face was
so expressive of agony, that it formed a comical picture, exciting the
laughter of Charles Stevens, and Bly supposing that he was skeptical of
the story he had told said:
"Do you doubt the truth of my narrative, my merry fellow? Perchance you
may some day feel the clutches of a witch upon you, then, pray God,
beware."
"These are matters of too serious moment to excite one to laughter," put
in Mr. Gray, solemnly. "Since the devil is come down in great wrath upon
us, let us not in our great wrath against one another provide a lodging
for him."
Charles, the reckless, merry youth, treated the matter as it would be
treated at the present day.
"You need not deride the idea of witches changing people to horses,"
said John Louder, who, according to accounts given of him, by Cotton
Mather, was either an accomplished liar or a man possessing a vivid
imagination.
"Have you ever had any personal experience?" asked Charles.
"Indeed I have."
"What was it?"
"Goody Nurse does such things; but she has ever been too shrewd to be
caught as was the witch in Virginia."
"Goody Nurse! For shame on you, Mr. Louder, to accuse that good,
righteous woman with offences as heinous as having familiar spirits."
With a solemnity so earnest that sincerity could scarcely be doubted,
John Louder remarked:
"Glad should I be, if I had never known the name of this woman, or never
had this occasion to mention so much as her name. Goody Nurse is the
most base of all God's creatures, for she takes unto herself a seeming
holiness."
"What hath she done?"
"Listen and I will tell you. She hath grievously afflicted my children.
At night her shape appears to them accompanied by a black man. She hath
power to change her own form into an animal, a bird or insect at will.
Once my little girl was attacked by a large black cat, which she
recognized as Goody Nurse.
"Not only does she afflict my children; but my cattle, my gun and myself
have been bewitched by her."
John Louder here paused and, refilling his pipe, lighted it, took a few
whiffs to get it going and resumed:
"If you will listen to what I say, I will tell you of a certain incident
which befell me last summer. One night I had retired early to rest, for,
having been in the fields all day, I was somewhat weary. I fell asleep
and was dreaming of pleasant forests, running brooks, green meadows,
thrift and plenty, when suddenly methought I heard a voice calling unto
me.
"'John Louder! John Louder!' it seemed to say.
"I started up from my pillow and sat on the side of my bed. The day had
been very hot, the night was still warm, and the window had been left
open, that the good south breeze might refresh my heated face. Suddenly
in through that window came a great black object. I could see the eyes
like blue flames, the face with a hideous grin, great sharp ears and
short horns on top. He had bat-like wings, a tail, and on one foot was a
cloven hoof.
"I was too much affrighted to speak; but the shape motioned me to rise.
I did so. An instant later, lo, a second shape appeared, and this was
Rebecca Nurse. They did not ask me to sign the book, this time, for I
had declined so often to do so, that they thought it little need.
"'Come!' said Goody Nurse. I rose and followed, I own, for I was under
some strange spell.
"We got out of the house, I know not how, and I saw a great many people
waiting. Some were on the ground, and some were in the air. All were on
broomsticks.
"'Come, John Louder, mount behind me,' said Rebecca Nurse, and I was
compelled to get behind her."
"What was she riding?" Charles asked.
"A broomstick."
Charles, by an effort, restrained the laughter, which the answer had so
nearly created, and John Louder resumed:
"She uttered a strange, terrible cry, and we all rose in the air on the
broomsticks and away we sped like birds. I was in constant fear lest I
should fall and be dashed to death on the ground. I clung to her, and
she, uttering strange screeches and cries, sped on like a bird through
the air. Her broomstick rose and fell at her command.
"At last we descended to a valley, and all the witches save Goody Nurse
disappeared. Here I soon learned that, instead of riding, I was to be
ridden. By a few magic words, my face became elongated, my body grew, my
hands and feet became hoofs, my body was covered with hair, I had a mane
and tail, and I was a horse, with a saddle on my back, and a bit in my
mouth. Mounting me, the old witch cried:
"'Be going, Johnnie, I will give you sore bones ere the cock crows.'
[Illustration: "We all rose in the air on broomsticks."]
"I was goaded to desperation. I ran, I leaped, I sprang from precipices
so high, that, had I not been held up by the spirits of the air, I must
have been dashed to death on the rocks below. I was agonized, and I
wanted to die.
"At last we came to a valley and a house, which I recognized as the old
Ames Meeting House. Here a number of poor wretches like myself who had
been changed to beasts and ridden almost to death, were tied up. Some of
them were horses, some were bulls, and one had been changed to a ram,
another to an ostrich. I was tied to a tree so near to the door of the
house, that I could see within.
"Verily, it was such a sight as I pray God I may never witness again.
There were the witches at their infernal feast. The liver and lungs,
torn warm and bleeding from some helpless wretch, lay on the table. They
partook of the food, also the diabolical sacrament, and then commenced
their dance. I saw them dancing with their feet up to the ceiling and
their heads hanging down.
"In my agony of spirit, I seized the tree nearest me in my mouth, and
bit it so hard that I broke out the tooth," and here the narrator
exhibited his teeth, one of the front ones being gone. "You see the
tooth is missing. A week later I went to the Ames Meeting House and
found the tooth sticking in the tree.
"After they had kept up their infernal dance for an hour, Goody Nurse
again appeared and, mounting on my back, did ride me most grievously
hard over the hills and plains, until we came to my home. Then she
suddenly slipped from my back and hurled me head first through the
window, where I fell in my own shape by the side of the bed."
Charles Stevens, feeling assured that he had a solution to the
marvellous story, said:
"It was no doubt a frightful dream, which to you seemed real."
"Dream, was it?" cried Louder. "I sprang to my feet, ran to the window,
and, sure as I am a white man, there was Goody Nurse soaring away
through the air on a broomstick."
When he had finished his story, the horrified group shuddered and
gathered closer about the fire which had burned low on the hearth. Pete
tried to lay on a stick with his trembling hand, but was not equal to
the task. The lamp-wick burned low in its socket, flickered and
threatened to go out, while the storm without howled with increasing
fury, the rain beat against the side of the house, and the thunder
crashed overhead.
A shuddering silence seemed to have seized upon the group, and they sat
watching the flickering lamp and smouldering fire, when suddenly all
were roused by a loud rapping at the door. The entire group started up
in alarm, the negro howled, and Bly gasped:
"God save us!"
"The whole armor of God shield us against the witches," groaned John
Louder.
"Heaven help us now!" whispered Gray.
Charles Stevens, though scarcely more than a youth, was the most
self-possessed of all. He rose and opened the door. A blinding flash
revealed a pair of horses with drooping heads in the rain and storm,
while a man and young girl, the late riders of the horses, stood at the
door holding the reins.
As soon as the door was opened, the man, holding the little maiden's
hand in his own, stepped into the house to be out of the gust of wind
and rain.
"We are belated travellers, kind sir, and seek shelter from the storm,"
the stranger began.
At sound of his voice, John Louder sprang to his feet, and, seizing the
lamp, held it close to the man's face. Starting back with a yell, he
cried:
"Away! wizard, devil, away! You are he who offered the book to me. Away!
away! or I will slay you!"
The startled stranger answered:
"I never saw you before."
John Louder insisted that he was the evil one who had met him at the
lake while he was stalking the deer, and had offered him the book to
sign.
"I never saw you before in my life," the stranger answered, his
theatrical tones making a strange impression on the superstitious
Louder. He read in his face the look of a demon, and continued to cry:
"You must, you shall go away! Prince of darkness, back into the storm
which your powers created!"
Charles Stevens was too much amazed to speak for some moments, for, by
the combined aid of the lamp and firelight, he saw before him the very
features of the man whom he had found wounded and almost dying at the
spring. The wanderer turned his sad and handsome face to the youth and
asked:
"Can you take us to shelter?"
"I did once, and will again."
"You did once? Truly you mistake, for I never saw you before. My child
will perish in this storm."
"It is five miles to my house; but if you will come with me I will show
you the way."
They tried to dissuade Charles from going out into the driving storm;
but he was not moved by their entreaties. He only saw the young maiden's
pale, sweet face and appealing blue eyes, and he set off with the two
through the storm, which beat about them so that they were quite wet to
the skin when the house of widow Stevens was reached. The man and the
maid were given beds and dry clothing.
Next morning, Charles asked the stranger:
"Are you not the man who came here in 1684, wounded?"
"I am not. I was never here before. What is your name?"
"Charles Stevens."
"Have you relatives in Boston?"
"Yes, my grandfather, Mathew Stevens, who was a Spaniard by birth and
called Mattheo Estevan, died in Boston twenty years ago, and I have
uncles, aunts and cousins living there."
"Have you relatives in Virginia?"
"I have cousins."
"Is one Robert Stevens?"
"He is."
"I know him, he befriended me and sent me here."
Then the stranger told how he had been an indented slave in Virginia,
and escaped from a cruel master through the aid of Robert Stevens.
The strangers were George Waters and his daughter Cora.