Margaret Smith's Journal Part 5

HAMPTON, October 24, 1678.

I took leave of my good friends at Agamenticus, or York, as it is now called, on the morning after the last date in my journal, going in a boat with my uncle to Piscataqua and Strawberry Bank. It was a cloudy day, and I was chilled through before we got to the mouth of the river; but, as the high wind was much in our favor, we were enabled to make the voyage in a shorter time than is common. We stopped a little at the house of a Mr. Cutts, a man of some note in these parts; but he being from home, and one of the children sick with a quinsy, we went up the river to Strawberry Bank, where we tarried over night. The woman who entertained us had lost her husband in the war, and having to see to the ordering of matters out of doors in this busy season of harvest, it was no marvel that she did neglect those within. I made a comfortable supper of baked pumpkin and milk, and for lodgings I had a straw bed on the floor, in the dark loft, which was piled wellnigh full with corn- ears, pumpkins, and beans, besides a great deal of old household trumpery, wool, and flax, and the skins of animals. Although tired of my journey, it was some little time before I could get asleep; and it so fell out, that after the folks of the house were all abed, and still, it being, as I judge, nigh midnight, I chanced to touch with my foot a pumpkin lying near the bed, which set it a-rolling down the stairs, b.u.mping hard on every stair as it went. Thereupon I heard a great stir below, the woman and her three daughters crying out that the house was haunted. Presently she called to me from the foot of the stairs, and asked me if I did hear anything. I laughed so at all this, that it was some time before I could speak; when I told her I did hear a thumping on the stairs. "Did it seem to go up, or down?" inquired she, anxiously; and on my telling her that the sound went downward, she set up a sad cry, and they all came fleeing into the corn-loft, the girls bouncing upon my bed, and hiding under the blanket, and the old woman praying and groaning, and saying that she did believe it was the spirit of her poor husband. By this time my uncle, who was lying on the settle in the room below, hearing the noise, got up, and stumbling over the pumpkin, called to know what was the matter. Thereupon the woman bade him flee up stairs, for there was a ghost in the kitchen. "Pshaw!" said my uncle, "is that all? I thought to be sure the Indians had come." As soon as I could speak for laughing, I told the poor creature what it was that so frightened her; at which she was greatly vexed; and, after she went to bed again, I could hear her scolding me for playing tricks upon honest people.

We were up betimes in the morning, which was bright and pleasant. Uncle soon found a friend of his, a Mr. Weare, who, with his wife, was to go to his home, at Hampton, that day, and who did kindly engage to see me thus far on my way. At about eight of the clock we got upon our horses, the woman riding on a pillion behind her husband. Our way was for some miles through the woods,--getting at times a view of the sea, and pa.s.sing some good, thriving plantations. The woods in this country are by no means like those of England, where the ancient trees are kept clear of bushes and undergrowth, and the sward beneath them is shaven clean and close; whereas here they be much tangled with vines, and the dead boughs and logs which have fallen, from their great age or which the storms do beat off, or the winter snows and ices do break down.

Here, also, through the thick matting of dead leaves, all manner of shrubs and bushes, some of them very sweet and fair in their flowering, and others greatly prized for their healing virtues, do grow up plenteously. In the season of them, many wholesome fruits abound in the woods, such as blue and black berries. We pa.s.sed many trees, well loaded with walnuts and oilnuts, seeming all alive, as it were, with squirrels, striped, red, and gray, the last having a large, spreading tail, which Mr. Weare told me they do use as a sail, to catch the wind, that it may blow them over rivers and creeks, on pieces of bark, in some sort like that wonderful sh.e.l.l-fish which transformeth itself into a boat, and saileth on the waves of the sea. We also found grapes, both white and purple, hanging down in cl.u.s.ters from the trees, over which the vines did run, nigh upon as large as those which the Jews of old plucked at Eschol. The air was sweet and soft, and there was a clear, but not a hot sun, and the chirping of squirrels, and the noise of birds, and the sound of the waves breaking on the beach a little distance off, and the leaves, at every breath of the wind in the tree- tops, whirling and fluttering down about me, like so many yellow and scarlet-colored birds, made the ride wonderfully pleasant and entertaining.

Mr. Weare, on the way, told me that there was a great talk of the bewitching of Goodman Morse's house at Newbury, and that the case of Caleb Powell was still before the Court, he being vehemently suspected of the mischief. I told him I thought the said Caleb was a vain, talking man, but nowise of a wizard. The thing most against him, Mr.

Weare said, was this: that he did deny at the first that the house was troubled by evil spirits, and even went so far as to doubt that such things could be at all. "Yet many wiser men than Caleb Powell do deny the same," I said. "True," answered he; "but, as good Mr. Richardson, of Newbury, well saith, there have never lacked Sadducees, who believe not in angel or spirit." I told the story of the disturbance at Strawberry Bank the night before, and how so silly a thing as a rolling pumpkin did greatly terrify a whole household; and said I did not doubt this Newbury trouble was something very like it. Hereupon the good woman took the matter up, saying she had been over to Newbury, and had seen with her own eyes, and heard with her own ears; and that she could say of it as the Queen of Sheba did of Solomon's glory, "The half had not been told her." She then went on to tell me of many marvellous and truly unaccountable things, so that I must needs think there is an invisible hand at work there.

We reached Hampton about one hour before noon; and riding up the road towards the meeting-house, to my great joy, Uncle Rawson, who had business with the Commissioners then sitting, came out to meet me, bidding me go on to Mr. Weare's house, whither he would follow me when the Court did adjourn. He came thither accordingly, to sup and lodge, bringing with him Mr. Pike the elder, one of the magistrates, a grave, venerable man, the father of mine old acquaintance, Robert. Went in the evening with Mistress Weare and her maiden sister to see a young girl in the neighborhood, said to be possessed, or bewitched; but for mine own part I did see nothing in her behavior beyond that of a vicious and spoiled child, delighting in mischief. Her grandmother, with whom she lives, lays the blame on an ill-disposed woman, named Susy Martin, living in Salisbury. Mr. Pike, who dwells near this Martin, saith she is no witch, although an arrant scold, as was her mother before her; and as for the girl, he saith that a birch twig, smartly laid on, would cure her sooner than the hanging of all the old women in the Colony.

Mistress Weare says this is not the first time the Evil Spirit hath been at work in Hampton; for they did all remember the case of Goody Marston's child, who was, from as fair and promising an infant as one would wish to see, changed into the likeness of an ape, to the great grief and sore shame of its parents; and, moreover, that when the child died, there was seen by more than one person a little old woman in a blue cloak, and petticoat of the same color, following on after the mourners, and looking very like old Eunice Cole, who was then locked fast in Ipswich jail, twenty miles off. Uncle Rawson says he has all the papers in his possession touching the trial of this Cole, and will let me see them when we get back to Newbury. There was much talk on this matter, which so disturbed my fancy that I slept but poorly. This afternoon we go over to Newbury, where, indeed, I do greatly long to be once more.

NEWBURY, October 26.

Cousin Rebecca gone to Boston, and not expected home until next week.

The house seems lonely without her. R. Pike looked in upon us this morning, telling us that there was a rumor in Boston, brought by way of the New York Colony, that a great Papist Plot had been discovered in England, and that it did cause much alarm in London and thereabout.

R. Pike saith he doubts not the Papists do plot, it being the custom of their Jesuits so to do; but that, nevertheless, it would be no strange thing if it should be found that the Bishops and the Government did set this rumor a-going, for the excuse and occasion of some new persecutions of Independents and G.o.dly people.

October 27.

Mr. Richardson preached yesterday, from Deuteronomy xviii. 10th, 11th, and 12th verses. An ingenious and solid discourse, in which he showed that, as among the heathen nations surrounding the Jews, there were sorcerers, charmers, wizards, and consulters with familiar spirits, who were an abomination to the Lord, so in our time the heathen nations of Indians had also their powahs and panisees and devilish wizards, against whom the warning of the text might well be raised by the watchmen on the walls of our Zion. He moreover said that the arts of the Adversary were now made manifest in this place in a most strange and terrible manner, and it did become the duty of all G.o.dly persons to pray and wrestle with the Lord, that they who have made a covenant with h.e.l.l may be speedily discovered in their wickedness, and cut off from the congregation. An awful discourse, which made many tremble and quake, and did quite overcome Goodwife Morse, she being a weakly woman, so that she had to be carried out of the meeting.

It being cold weather, and a damp easterly wind keeping me within doors, I have been looking over with uncle his papers about the Hampton witch, Eunice Cole, who was twice tried for her mischiefs; and I incline to copy some of them, as I know they will be looked upon as worthy of, record by my dear Cousin Oliver and mine other English friends. I find that as long ago as the year 1656, this same Eunice Cole was complained of, and many witnesses did testify to her wickedness. Here followeth some of the evidence on the first trial:--

"The deposition of Goody Marston and Goodwife Susanna Palmer, who, being sworn, sayeth, that Goodwife Cole saith that she was sure there was a witch in town, and that she knew where he dwelt, and who they are, and that thirteen years ago she knew one bewitched as Goodwife Marston's child was, and she was sure that party was bewitched, for it told her so, and it was changed from a man to an ape, as Goody Marston's child was, and she had prayed this thirteen year that G.o.d would discover that witch. And further the deponent saith not.

"Taken on oath before the Commissioners of Hampton, the 8th of the 2nd mo., 1656.

"WILLIAM FULLER.

"HENRY DOW.

"Vera copea: "THOS. BRADBURY, Recorder.

"Sworn before, the 4th of September, 1656,

"EDWARD RAWSON.

"Thomas Philbrick testifieth that Goody Cole told him that if any of his calves did eat of her gra.s.s, she hoped it would poison them; and it fell out that one never came home again, and the other coming home died soon after.

"Henry Morelton's wife and Goodwife Sleeper depose that, talking about Goody Cole and Marston's child, they did hear a great sc.r.a.ping against the boards of the window, which was not done by a cat or dog.

"Thomas Coleman's wife testifies that Goody Cole did repeat to another the very words which pa.s.sed between herself and her husband, in their own house, in private; and Thomas Ormsby, the constable of Salisbury, testifies, that when he did strip Eunice Cole of her s.h.i.+ft, to be whipped, by the judgment of the Court at Salisbury, he saw a witch's mark under her left breast. Moreover, one Abra. Drake doth depose and say, that this Goody Cole threatened that the hand of G.o.d would be against his cattle, and forthwith two of his cattle died, and before the end of summer a third also."

About five years ago, she was again presented by the Jury for the Ma.s.sachusetts jurisdiction, for having "entered into a covenant with the Devil, contrary to the peace of our Sovereign Lord the King, his crown and dignity, the laws of G.o.d and this jurisdiction"; and much testimony was brought against her, tending to show her to be an arrant witch. For it seems she did fix her evil eye upon a little maid named Ann Smith, to entice her to her house, appearing unto her in the shape of a little old woman, in a blue coat, a blue cap, and a blue ap.r.o.n, and a white neckcloth, and presently changing into a dog, and running up a tree, and then into an eagle flying in the air, and lastly into a gray cat, speaking to her, and troubling her in a grievous manner. Moreover, the constable of the town of Hampton testifies, that, having to supply Goody Cole with diet, by order of the town, she being poor, she complained much of him, and after that his wife could bake no bread in the oven which did not speedily rot and become loathsome to the smell, but the same meal baked at a neighbor's made good and sweet bread; and, further, that one night there did enter into their chamber a smell like that of the bewitched bread, only more loathsome, and plainly diabolical in its nature, so that, as the constable's wife saith, "she was fain to rise in the night and desire her husband to go to prayer to drive away the Devil; and he, rising, went to prayer, and after that, the smell was gone, so that they were not troubled with it." There is also the testimony of Goodwife Perkins, that she did see, on the Lord's day, while Mr. Dalton was preaching, an imp in the shape of a mouse, fall out the bosom of Eunice Cole down into her lap. For all which, the County Court, held at Salisbury, did order her to be sent to the Boston Jail, to await her trial at the Court of a.s.sistants. This last Court, I learn from mine uncle, did not condemn her, as some of the evidence was old, and not reliable. Uncle saith she was a wicked old woman, who had been often whipped and set in the ducking-stool, but whether she was a witch or no, he knows not for a certainty.

November 8.

Yesterday, to my great joy, came my beloved Cousin Rebecca from Boston.

In her company also came the worthy minister and doctor of medicine, Mr.

Russ, formerly of Wells, but now settled at a plantation near Cocheco.

He is to make some little tarry in this town, where at this present time many complain of sickness. Rebecca saith he is one of the excellent of the earth, and, like his blessed Lord and Master, delighteth in going about doing good, and comforting both soul and body. He hath a cheerful, pleasant countenance, and is very active, albeit he is well stricken in years. He is to preach for Mr. Richardson next Sabhath, and in the mean time lodgeth at my uncle's house.

This morning the weather is raw and cold, the ground frozen, and some snow fell before sunrise. A little time ago, Dr. Russ, who was walking in the garden, came in a great haste to the window where Rebecca and I were sitting, bidding us come forth. So, we hurrying out, the good man bade us look whither he pointed, and to! a flock of wild geese, streaming across the sky, in two great files, sending down, as it were, from the clouds, their loud and sonorous trumpetings, "Cronk, cronk, cronk!" These birds, the Doctor saith, do go northward in March to hatch their broods in the great bogs and on the desolate islands, and fly back again when the cold season approacheth. Our worthy guest improved the occasion to speak of the care and goodness of G.o.d towards his creation, and how these poor birds are enabled, by their proper instincts, to partake of his bounty, and to shun the evils of adverse climates. He never looked, he said, upon the flight of these fowls, without calling to mind the query which was of old put to Job: "Doth the hawk fly by thy wisdom, and stretch her wings toward the south? Doth the eagle mount up at thy command, and make her nest on high?"

November 12, 1678.

Dr. Russ preached yesterday, having for his text 1 Corinthians, chap.

xiii. verse 5: "Charity seeketh not her own." He began by saying that mutual benevolence was a law of nature,--no one being a whole of himself, nor capable of happily subsisting by himself, but rather a member of the great body of mankind, which must dissolve and perish, unless held together and compacted in its various parts by the force of that common and blessed law. The wise Author of our being hath most manifestly framed and fitted us for one another, and ordained that mutual charity shall supply our mutual wants and weaknesses, inasmuch as no man liveth to himself, but is dependent upon others, as others be upon him. It hath been said by ingenious men, that in the outward world all things do mutually operate upon and affect each other; and that it is by the energy of this principle that our solid earth is supported, and the heavenly bodies are made to keep the rhythmic harmonies of their creation, and dispense upon us their benign favors; and it may be said, that a law akin to this hath been ordained for the moral world,--mutual benevolence being the cement and support of families, and churches, and states, and of the great community and brotherhood of mankind. It doth both make and preserve all the peace, and harmony, and beauty, which liken our world in some small degree to heaven, and without it all things would rush into confusion and discord, and the earth would become a place of horror and torment, and men become as ravening wolves, devouring and being devoured by one another.

Charity is the second great commandment, upon which hang all the Law and the Prophets; and it is like unto the first, and cannot be separated from it; for at the great day of recompense we shall be tried by these commandments, and our faithfulness unto the first will be seen and manifested by our faithfulness unto the last. Yea, by our love of one another the Lord will measure our love of himself. "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." The grace of benevolence is therefore no small part of our meetness for the inheritance of the saints in light; it is the temper of heaven; the air which the angels breathe; an immortal grace,--for when faith which supporteth us here, and hope which is as an anchor to the tossed soul, are no longer needed, charity remaineth forever, for it is native in heaven, and partaketh of the divine nature, for G.o.d himself is love.

"Oh, my hearers," said the preacher, his venerable face brightening as if with a light s.h.i.+ning from within, "Doth not the Apostle tell us that skill in tongues and gifts of prophecy, and mysteries of knowledge and faith, do avail nothing where charity is lacking? What avail great talents, if they be not devoted to goodness? On the other hand, where charity dwelleth, it maketh the weak strong and the uncomely beautiful; it sheddeth a glory about him who possesseth it, like that which did s.h.i.+ne on the face of Moses, or that which did sit upon the countenance of Stephen, when his face was as the face of an angel. Above all, it conformeth us to the Son of G.o.d; for through love he came among us, and went about doing good, adorning his life with miracles of mercy, and at last laid it down for the salvation of men. What heart can resist his melting entreaty: 'Even as I have loved you, love ye also one another.'

"We do all," he continued, "seek after happiness, but too often blindly and foolishly. The selfish man, striving to live for himself, shutteth himself up to partake of his single portion, and marvelleth that he cannot enjoy it. The good things he hath laid up for himself fail to comfort him; and although he hath riches, and wanteth nothing for his soul of all that he desireth, yet hath he not power to partake thereof.

They be as delicates poured upon a mouth shut up, or as meats set upon a grave. But he that hath found charity to be the temper of happiness, which doth put the soul in a natural and easy condition, and openeth it to the solaces of that pure and sublime entertainment which the angels do spread for such as obey the will of their Creator, hath discovered a more subtle alchemy than any of which the philosophers did dream,--for he trans.m.u.teth the enjoyments of others into his own, and his large and open heart partaketh of the satisfaction of all around him. Are there any here who, in the midst of outward abundance, are sorrowful of heart,--who go mourning on their way from some inward discomfort,---Who long for serenity of spirit, and cheerful happiness, as the servant earnestly desireth the shadow? Let such seek out the poor and forsaken, they who have no homes nor estates, who are the servants of sin and evil habits, who lack food for both the body and the mind. Thus shall they, in rememering others, forget themselves; the pleasure they afford to their fellow-creatures shall come back larger and fuller unto their own bosoms, and they shall know of a truth how much the more blessed it is to give than to receive. In love and compa.s.sion, G.o.d hath made us dependent upon each other, to the end that by the use of our affections we may find true happiness and rest to our souls. He hath united us so closely with our fellows, that they do make, as it were, a part of our being, and in comforting them we do most a.s.suredly comfort ourselves.

Therein doth happiness come to us unawares, and without seeking, as the servant who goeth on his master's errand findeth pleasant fruits and sweet flowers overhanging him, and cool fountains, which he knew not of, gus.h.i.+ng up by the wayside, for his solace and refres.h.i.+ng."

The minister then spake of the duty of charity towards even the sinful and froward, and of winning them by love and good will, and making even their correction and punishment a means of awakening them to repentance, and the calling forth of the fruits meet for it. He also spake of self- styled prophets and enthusiastic people, who went about to cry against the Church and the State, and to teach new doctrines, saying that oftentimes such were sent as a judgment upon the professors of the truth, who had the form of G.o.dliness only, while lacking the power thereof; and that he did believe that the zeal which had been manifested against such had not always been enough seasoned with charity. It did argue a lack of faith in the truth, to fly into a panic and a great rage when it was called in question; and to undertake to become G.o.d's avengers, and to torture and burn heretics, was an error of the Papists, which ill became those who had gone out from among them. Moreover, he did believe that many of these people, who had so troubled the Colony of late, were at heart simple and honest men and women, whose heads might indeed be unsound, but who at heart sought to do the will of G.o.d; and, of a truth, all could testify to the sobriety and strictness of their lives, and the justice of their dealings in outward things. He spake also somewhat of the Indians, who, he said, were our brethren, and concerning whom we would have an account to give at the Great Day. The hand of these heathen people had been heavy upon the Colonies, and many had suffered from their cruel slaughterings, and the captivity of themselves and their families. Here the aged minister wept, for he doubtless thought of his son, who was slain in the war; and for a time the words did seem to die in his throat, so greatly was he moved. But he went on to say, that since G.o.d, in his great and undeserved mercy, had put an end to the war, all present unkindness and hard dealing towards he poor benighted heathen was an offence in the eyes of Him who respecteth not the persons of men, but who regardeth with an equal eye the white and the red men, both being the workmans.h.i.+p of His hands. It is our blessed privilege to labor to bring them to a knowledge of the true G.o.d, whom, like the Athenians, some of them do ignorantly wors.h.i.+p; while the greater part, as was said of the heathen formerly, do not, out of the good pings that are seen, know Him that is; neither by considering the works do they acknowledge the workmaster, but deem the fire or wind, or the swift air, or the circle of the stars, or the violent water, or the lights of heaven, to be the G.o.ds who govern the world.

He counselled against mischief-makers and stirrers up of strife, and such as do desire occasion against their brethren. He said that it did seem as if many thought to atone for their own sins by their great heat and zeal to discover wickedness in others; and that he feared such might be the case now, when there was much talk of the outward and visible doings of Satan in this place; whereas, the enemy was most to be feared who did work privily in the heart; it being a small thing for him to bewitch a dwelling made of wood and stone, who did so easily possess and enchant the precious souls of men.

Finally, he did exhort all to keep watch over their own spirits, and to remember that what measure they do mete to others shall be measured to them again; to lay aside all wrath, and malice, and evil-speaking; to bear one another's burdens, and so make this Church in the wilderness beautiful and comely, an example to the world of that peace and good will to men, which the angels sang of at the birth of the blessed Redeemer.

I have been the more careful to give the substance of Mr. Russ's sermon, as nearly as I can remember it, forasmuch as it hath given offence to some who did listen to it. Deacon Dole saith it was such a discourse as a Socinian or a Papist might have preached, for the great stress it laid upon works; and Goodwife Matson, a noisy, talking woman,--such an one, no doubt, as those busybodies whom Saint Paul did rebuke for forwardness, and command to keep silence in the church,--says the preacher did go out of his way to favor Quakers, Indians, and witches; and that the Devil in Goody Morse's house was no doubt well pleased with the discourse. R. Pike saith he does no wise marvel at her complaints; for when she formerly dwelt at the Marblehead fis.h.i.+ng-haven, she was one of the unruly women who did break into Thompson's garrison-house, and barbarously put to death two Saugus Indians, who had given themselves up for safe keeping, and who had never harmed any, which thing was a great grief and scandal to all well-disposed people. And yet this woman, who scrupled not to say that she would as lief stick an Indian as a hog, and who walked all the way from Marblehead to Boston to see the Quaker woman hung, and did foully jest over her dead body, was allowed to have her way in the church, Mr. Richardson being plainly in fear of her ill tongue and wicked temper.

November 13.

The Quaker maid, Margaret Brewster, came this morning, inquiring for the Doctor, and desiring him to visit a sick man at her father's house, a little way up the river; whereupon he took his staff and went with her.

On his coming back, he said he must do the Quakers the justice to say, that, with all their heresies and pestilent errors of doctrine, they were a kind people; for here was Goodman Brewster, whose small estate had been wellnigh taken from him in fines, and whose wife was a weak, ailing woman, who was at this time kindly lodging and nursing a poor, broken-down soldier, by no means likely to repay him, in any sort. As for the sick man, he had been hardly treated in the matter of his wages, while in the war, and fined, moreover, on the ground that he did profane the holy Sabhath; and though he had sent a pet.i.tion to the Honorable Governor and Council, for the remission of the same, it had been to no purpose. Mr. Russ said he had taken a copy of this pet.i.tion, with the answer thereto, intending to make another application himself to the authorities; for although the pet.i.tioner might have been blamable, yet his necessity did go far to excuse it. He gave me the papers to copy, which are as followeth:--

"To the Hon. the Governor and Council, now sitting in Boston, July 30, 1676. The Pet.i.tion of Jonathan Atherton humbly showeth:

"That your Pet.i.tioner, being a soldier under Captain Henchman, during their abode at Concord, Captain H., under pretence of your pet.i.tioner's profanation of the Sabhath, had sentenced your pet.i.tioner to lose a fortnight's pay. Now, the thing that was alleged against your pet.i.tioner was, that he cut a piece of an old hat to put in his shoes, and emptied three or four cartridges. Now, there was great occasion and necessity for his so doing, for his shoes were grown so big, by walking and riding in the wet and dew, that they galled his feet so that he was not able to go without pain; and his cartridges, being in a bag,--were worn with continual travel, so that they lost the powder out, so that it was dangerous to carry them; besides, he did not know how soon he should be forced to make use of them, therefore he did account it lawful to do the same; yet, if it be deemed a breach of the Sabhath, he desires to be humbled before the Lord, and begs the pardon of his people for any offence done to them thereby. And doth humbly request the favor of your Honors to consider the premises, and to remit the fine imposed upon him, and to give order to the committee for the war for the payment of his wages. So shall he forever pray. . . . "

11 Aug. 1676.--The Council sees no cause to grant the pet.i.tioner any relief."