University of Virginia Library

THE WITCH.

It is a very common observation, but not the less true
on that account, that no advantage is fully prized except
by the want of it. Our fair countrywomen, who are
now instructed in every branch of education, can with
difficulty realize the ignorance of their female ancestors,
with whom to read and write was considered learning
enough to have made a modern blue-stocking. It must
be confessed, that, even now, a woman gifted with any
uncommon literary acquirements, falls under the displeasure
of the well dressed illiterate dandies of the
day; but their jurisdiction is a harmless one, and seldom
extends beyond a shrug or the opprobrious epithet of
blue. But this was not the case in 1669. Then, female
literature excited serious suspicion, and was taken under
the cognizance of that memorable and never to be forgotten
synod of pious, enlightened worthies, who would
fain have condemned all the ugly old women and all
the intelligent young ones, to be hanged or drowned
as witches.

It was the misfortune of Ann Jones to be born at this
period. She lived at New Haven, and, when a child,
discovered a remarkable faculty of learning. She could
string rhymes together, as children of quick and playful
imaginations are wont to do. Ann's father died before
her genius had developed itself beyond any other indication
of great powers than imitating the language of
every animal she heard. This early habit gave her, no
doubt, a flexibility of organs. In the present day a
young lady may have the gift of half a dozen tongues,

and a more accurate knowledge of all than her own,
without exciting wonder; but it must be remembered
that Ann flourished nearly two centuries ago. Her
mother was a good hearted, honest, respectable woman,
and early discovered that she had brought a prodigy
into the world. This discovery mothers are daily making
now, and prodigies have so much multiplied, that nobody
is surprised to find the youngest or the oldest child a
complete wonder. The mother was constantly relating
instances of the extraordinary talents of her child, and,
among other things, affirmed, before a number of people
who were afterwards summoned as witnesses against the
girl, that she could say her letters before she could speak;
which, if the woman had not explained her meaning by
stating that she could pick them out of the alphabet before
she could articulate, was certainly enough to have
hung her for a witch in any court of justice.

A Dutch family removed from New Amsterdam to
New Haven. Formerly the people of New Amsterdam
had designated the inhabitants of New Haven as
`squatters,' and now the term was thrown back on the
respectable and ancient family of Von Poffenburghs,
who, though they purchased every inch of land they
occupied, were, most unjustly, by way of contempt,
called squatters. Some say that nothing serious was
meant by this appellation, and that it was only in derision
of the superabundance of petticoats that were worn
by vrowe Von Poffenburgh, which, when she seated
herself, gave her an appearance to which the above
injurious term might be applied. They built a low
house with slanting roof and gable ends, and though it
might show meanly by the side of our city houses, was
then considered one of `exceeding costliness.'

It must be confessed that the goede vrowe discovered
a little more pride in dress than was congenial to the

simplicity of the times. It was said she never walked
out with less than ten petticoats, and as confidently
asserted she could bring ten more to cover them. And
then her jewelry was of the most extravagant kind.
She wore her pin-ball and scissors dangling at her side
by a massy silver chain, and her square buckles contained
more silver than any other lady's in the colony.
The shortness of her petticoats excited much indignation
among the New England dames. They said there
would have been some excuse had economy been the
object, but it was evident what was taken from the
length was put on to the breadth. They therefore very
candidly concluded that their brevity was contrived to
show off a pair of red stockings with gold clocks, well
fitted to ankles that did not discredit the epithet of
Dutch built.

Unfortunately for poor Ann, the vrowe took a great
fancy to her, and said she was the very image of her
little Dirk Von Poffenburgh, who died when he was a
baby. Nothing would do but Ann must have a set of
petticoats, and she actually rigged out the poor girl
with buckles as big as her own. Some said they were
silver, and others that they were only pewter, and
scoured every week with the plates and porringers.
At any rate she did enough to draw the hatred and envy
of the whole village upon her.

It is no wonder that Ann, who could imitate the language
of dumb beasts, should catch the vrowe's. It
was surely pleasanter to make human sounds than to
baa-a like sheep, or moo-o like cows. In a very short
time she could speak Dutch as well as mynheer himself.
All this at first had no other consequence than exciting
envy and ill will; but, not content with two tongues,
Ann contrived to exercise a third. She spoke strange,
unknown words, that even the Dutch people confessed

they could not understand themselves. About this time
the witches began their gambols in New England, and
one of the strongest evidences against them was speaking
in an unknown tongue. Ann began to be looked
upon with an evil eye. It was not, however, till a
young man by the name of Hall became strangely
affected, that the whole village grew alarmed. It was
said that she had so bewitched him by her arts and
infernal charms that he could do nothing but follow her
about like a Jack-o'lantern. It was generally agreed
that he used to be a steady, business-like young man,
but since he had known her he had neglected all work,
and would saunter whole nights under her window.
This was bad enough, but when other young men began
to show symptoms of the same kind, it was time to look
into the matter. There were some strong arguments
used by the more intelligent and candid against her
being an actual witch. It was said by every one who
had deeply studied the subject, that the `abominable
and damnable sin' of witchcraft was wholly confined to
ugly old women, whose faces were wrinkled by time,
whose joints were distorted by rheumatism, and whose
steps were tottering from debility. Now it could not be
denied that Ann was fair to look upon, her complexion
as smooth as marble, and her step as firm and elastic
as that of a mountain deer. Possibly these favorable
circumstances might have acquitted her in the eyes of
the venerable magistrates and divines of Salem; but
they did not at all meliorate the feelings of the mothers
and daughters at New Haven, who sat in judgment
upon poor Ann. They unanimously pronounced that
she was a sorceress, and that her beauty was nothing
but a mask, and if it were stripped off, she would be
ugly and old enough to excite the indignation of any
magistrate in New England, or even Cotton Mather
himself. At any rate the effect she produced began to
excite serious alarm.

At this time there lived at New Haven a very excellent,
good hearted woman, by the name of Eyers.
She had heard all these stories of Ann, and not being a
full believer in witches, had a laudable curiosity to behold
one. Accordingly she sent for her to come and
see her; when, strange to say, after a few hours conversation,
she became apparently under the influence
of her spells, and used to invite her to make long visits
at her house.

It could not be expected that things would be suffered
to go on in this way, and, accordingly, a warrant was
issued for apprehending Ann Jones accused of the
`abominable and damnable sin of witchcraft.' She was
arrested and thrown into prison. But as the judges
were not so expert and so much practised in finding out
witches as in Salem, and as nobody appeared against
her but a few girls of her own age, and half a dozen
children who said she had come to them under the shape
of a black cat, the magistrates were unwise enough to
dismiss her. This acquittal, however, did not release
Ann from suspicion. It grew stronger than ever. She
had always from her childhood loved to wander over
hills and valleys. She was healthy and robust, and
never hesitated to take her walks because the wind blew,
or the sky lowered. With her little red cloak wrapped
round her, and her gay and happy face peeping from
the hood, she braved every element. As she grew older
she still preserved her taste for rambling, and, as she
could now go nowhere without observation, her favorite
haunts were soon discovered. It was said she was often
seen vibrating on a broomstick in the air between East
and West Rocks, and alighting alternately on each; and
that, though the latter was a perpendicular cliff, rising

three hundred feet, she would run up that, or the side
of a house with the greatest ease. It was also said that
she was once seen standing on the top of this tremendous
rock, and that somebody fired at her and she sunk
down into the earth. It was supposed she was laid for
one while, when, to their horror, they saw her a few
hours afterwards looking as bright and as happy as ever.
Wherever she walked she found her path impeded by
broomsticks and horseshoes, and, though she skipped
over them good humoredly, it was confidently asserted
that she was always stopped by their infallible power.

About this time, new accounts arrived of the `wonder
working providence of God in detecting the witches
in various parts of New England.' It was thought by
many people a disgrace to New Haven that it had not
signalized itself in this business, and Ann was more
closely inspected than ever. At length it was actually
discovered, that she was often met by a mysterious
looking personage, who shuffled along as if he had a
cloven foot, and some averred that they had positively
seen it. It was easy now to account for her strange languages.
There could be no doubt but this mysterious
being was Beelzebub himself, and there were various
conjectures upon the nature of their connexion. Some
supposed she had made a league with him and signed
the bond with her blood; that he had supplied her with
her buckles, and was finally to be rewarded with her
immortal soul. Others supposed she was his wife and
coadjutor with him. It was not however till some months
after she had been seen with this mysterious personage
that the worst suspicions were realized. Mrs Eyers'
kitchen was situated on the street. The windows were
low and it was an edifying sight to look into them. The
dressers and shelves were garnished with bright pewter
plates, standing on their edges, and peeping through

rows of tin sauce pans, dippers, and skimmers, that hung
suspended from the shelves, while a shining brass warming
pan and chaffing dish garnished the wainscot. A
woman happening to pass by, cast her eye with a little
maidenly curiosity into the kitchen, and beheld Ann
Jones sitting there and conversing with her demon!
The alarm was immediately given, and Mrs Eyers, who
happened to be visiting in the neighbourhood, was one of
the first to hear the horrible story. It may well be supposed
that she was in great agitation and immediately
hastened home, but, before she arrived, people had collected
and surrounded the house. Mrs Eyers immediately
proposed that all the outside shutters should be
closed, the door fastened and the key holes stopped, lest
Ann and her familiar should escape. This was done
with the greatest expedition by some, while others went
for a warrant to apprehend the girl. It was said that
some were absurd enough to suppose that even Beelzebub
might be laid fast hold of and brought to trial,
Strict watch was kept upon the roof and the chimnies
for it was thought an easy thing for them to escape in
this clandestine manner. At length the warrant arrived.
Expectation and curiosity were wound up to their highest
pitch, the door was carefully opened, when, to the
horror and astonishment of everybody present, not a
living soul was to be seen! The strictest investigation
was made; they searched in every corner and every
closet; up chimney and down cellar; no traces could
be found, and, it was clear, Beelzebub had claimed
his wife!

Months and years passed away, and nothing was
heard of Ann Jones. Her mother could not endure the
disgrace of having such a son-in-law, and very soon
after this discovery disappeared from New Haven.
Mrs Eyers never could be prevailed on to mention her

name, and young Hall, who had been Ann's fast friend,
removed to a distant part of the country.

It was not till many years after, that a worthy clergyman
was travelling in Vermont, and made inquiries for
a Mrs Hall, for whom he had a letter. When he was
introduced to her he was struck by former recollections.

`You do n't know me?' said she, smiling.

`Not exactly,' he replied, `and yet I think I have
seen you before.'

`You do n't remember the little witch, Ann Jones?'
said she.

`Indeed I do,' he exclaimed, starting up and taking
her hand, `and I have now a letter for you from our
worthy friend Mrs Eyers.'

`I had a hard time of it,' replied Ann, `at New
Haven. You know how long I was accused as a sorceress,
because my husband there chose to fall in love
with me and conduct himself as if he was bewitched,
and then, too, because an excellent friend taught me
Latin, and I had the wit to catch a little smattering of
Dutch, I was supposed to be possessed of an evil spirit.
But the good people were not so much to blame as they
might appear,' continued she, `and I freely forgive
them their persecution; for it must be confessed there
were some suspicious appearances.'

`So I have understood,' said the clergyman, gravely.

`You did not know, then,' said she, `that I was
employed as an agent by Mrs Eyers, and our good
minister, Mr Davenport, to carry food to a poor man
who lived in a cave on West Rock?'

`No,' replied the gentleman, `nor how you escaped
from your persecutors.'

`It is a simple story,' said she,' marvellous as it
seems. Mrs Eyers had a closet made behind one of the
pannels of her kitchen, so exactly fitted and covered with

kitchen utensils that no one ever suspected it was there.
With this secure retreat in case of danger, the poor
gentleman could sometimes quit his cave and live like
a Christian, and, in return for my services, he taught
me many useful branches of knowledge. When the
alarm was given and the shutters closed, we retreated
to the closet and escaped discovery. But my friends
began to think it was best for me to quit New Haven
before I was hung or drowned, and so,' added she,
`I came to this spot with my husband. My mother
joined me, and here we have lived for fifteen years.
I have a healthy family of children, and keep up a constant
correspondence with Mrs Eyers, who has never
ceased to show me kindness for the little service I did
her friend.'

`May I ask,' said the clergyman, `who was the gentleman
you so essentially served?'

`You may,' said she, `for he has now gone to his
account. He is beyond the reach of friends or enemies.
He sleeps under the clod of the valley. It was Goffe,
the regicide judge.'